Chapter 25: Lives at stake

“Heal!” For crying out loud! Why would John make me come to this senile old man’s shop? Who the hell beats the crap out of their clients like it’s nothing?

“A priest?” He squints and examines me from head to toes. “I’m afraid my works are not suitable for your kind. You’ll find better luck at a tailor.” With a grin and a tongue click, he dispatches me.

“While I don’t think leather wouldn’t necessarily work for me,” I quickly point out, “that is not why I came.”

“Ooh?” His squint stretches and one eyebrow raises, clearly indicating I have his attention. “Could it be... you came for those two things you carry around?”

“Indeed. The tusks of a Field Boss Ogre.” I proudly say while raising them up.

“Now, now. Let me take a look at them.”

Handing them over to the very same person that just a few seconds ago was hitting me proves to be a difficult task. What if he treats them the same as me? Still, somewhat reluctant to part with them, I do it.

He takes a meticulous look at them. Rotating. Spinning. Touching its vein-like marks. Weighting it. It isn’t until a minute later, during which I restrained myself from interrupting his thoughts, that he speaks. “What is it that you want to do with them?”

“I initially thought of a collar, but I don’t think my neck would hold its weight for long.”

“No, it certainly wouldn’t. You should be more worried about their impact on your mobility, though.” He points out, clearly exhibiting the thought process of someone who has worked with soldiers and adventurers for a long time.

“That’s... true. Then, my other idea, which was making them hang from my belt, might not be the best either.”

“It is not. In fact, it’s stupid. How would you even move with those things constantly hitting your legs?”

“Yeah, yeah. I get it. Ah…” I let out a sigh, disappointed in my own wishful thinking.

“Give me that staff,” he walks closer to me while extending his hand, “and come back in an hour. I’ll have something for you.”

Not waiting for an answer, not even bothering to look at my face, he takes the staff from my hands, turns around, and enters his workshop. Do I even have a saying in this? Fuck it. Let’s see what this geezer can do.

Not having anything better to do, I log out. Maybe I can go for a short walk, eat som-

You have 1000+ pending notifications.

The machine’s voice interrupts me. Notifications? What of? I quickly bring the forums and check them. I’d like to carefully consider each, but barely after skipping through the first hundred, an overwhelming heat starts growing inside me. Tears threaten to fall, and my heart races as it has ever done. My hands are shaking. I never dreamed of having such support from the users.

Count with me! Of course I’m in, let’s save them! No town should face such destiny! +1 Where! Say the word and I’ll be there! Irisgarth will not fall! Let’s save Draka!

And many, many more like these ones. Oh my god. I never expected this kind of reaction. To think so many people would join in this crusade. I have to answer, even if it’s only just one message!

Everyone! I did not expect such an overwhelming response. I’m truly without words.

First of all, thank you. From the bottom of my heart, thank you. Even knowing ours is an impossible mission, you have decided to join.

We will be at the North Gate at 9pm EST+0 and then follow the West’s road. Everyone willing to help is welcome! If you cannot make it, don’t worry, your words of support already made a difference. I, you, we, are not alone!

I’m crying. It’s a game, but knowing there are lives at stake, I can’t turn a blind eye. I spend the next 20 minutes reading over the grand majority of the messages. Tomorrow will be a hard day. But, I have to admit, I look forward to Lillia’s face when she sees so many people wanting to come with us. It’s a miracle.

I use the remaining 40 minutes to go buy a kebab and eat it while walking. It’s been a long time since I did either of these two things. I should plan my days better and make time for some exercise. That’s a problem for the Mark of tomorrow, tho.

Let’s see what that tanner… uh? I don’t even know his name? Whatever, let’s see what he’s done! I decidedly log back and appear right inside the shop. What do NPCs think we do whenever we log out? Do they even question it?

He’s not here? He must still be working inside. “I’m back!”

“Who told you to come so early! Give me five minutes.”

It was… you. I don’t dare to say it out loud, just in case his last screw gives in and starts hitting me again. Well, five minutes isn’t mu-

“Here you go!” His body follows his voice and exits the workshop. What five minutes? That wasn’t even half a mi- My thoughts quickly change to a subconscious effort to catch the thing being thrown at me.

“Damn! Why do you throw it at me! What if I didn’t catch it?”

“Nothing. It won’t break so easily, you know.” He’s half-offended, half-proud face inquisitively looks at me. “So, what do you think?”

What is it? Flying in the air, I couldn’t get a clear image. I open my arms, currently pressed against my chest, to reveal the former staff.

What the fuck has he done? The staff is missing its former lower half. In its place, the two tusks have been cleverly inserted. Their pointy ends are placed facing the ground, while their bases have been somehow joined with the remaining half of the staff. That, however, is far from the most intriguing work. The tusks have been molded into thinner and spiraling shapes, carefully intertwined, dancing one around the other. It no longer looks like a staff but like an intricate artwork. Dangerous, ferocious. Wood and tusks blend into the perfect weapon.

“This is a hell of a work. I didn’t know you were so good with wood too. Truly, thank you!”

“What thank you! You’ll have to pay for this!!” His arms quickly cross below his chest.

“Yes, of course… I was just showing appreciation for this masterwork.”

“Ah, in that case, you might want to praise Hilda.”

“Hilda? Who would that be?”

“That is me, honey!” A sweet voice makes its presence announced from my back. “Forgive Alan. He has been scammed a few times. And these are bad times; he isn’t always so aggressive.”

“Oi! Oi! Who are you calling aggressive!”

“Oh, don’t worry, I didn’t take any offense.” I smile at the young lady. She’s dressed in sturdy-looking clothes, with an apron full of sawdust everywhere. She’s beautiful. Not the kind of beautiful where only her body matters, but rather one created by her womanly demeanor combined with her worker outlook. “Pleased to meet you, Hilda. I’m Mark.”

“Ah, such a good youngster… I’m the woodworker from the shop next to this. Alan here,” she points her head in his direction, “had this idea and called me for help.”

“This is truly amazing. Once again, I can’t stop admiring its beauty and details.”

“My, my. You know how to win a girl.” She winks at me while I question myself, do I? “I am curious, very. Why would you need it in such haste?”

“Oh well… I didn’t really intend to turn them into my staff. It’s just… tomorrow we are facing the enemies at Draka. Our fate might be already sealed, but every bit counts. I…” I pause, somewhat ashamed of my original motives, “I was hoping to intimidate the enemies with them. Boost my confidence or that of my friends. Whatever worked.”

“I see…” Did I say something wrong? Her face has gone all dark, and her sight seems lost. “See, Alan. Not everyone’s the same.”

“Ha…” He lets out a deep sigh, as if he had been holding his breath for a whole minute. “Maybe you were right, after all?” He pauses, looks at me, at the staff, and then back to me. “Boy! Get that staff and get the hell out of here. And tell John I’ll remember this one.”

“Huh? I, ah…” What the hell is going on? “How much is it then?”

“Nothing. Just go.”

“But, I sa-”

“NOW!” His face, posture, hand, body, everything is screaming at me to go. Unsure of what went wrong, I do as he says and exit the shop.

“You’ll have to forgive him…” Hilda, who followed me outside, says.

“Have I said something wrong? Offended him somehow?”

“No… that’s not it. He wouldn’t like to appear weak and be seen crying. That’s why he chased you out.”

“Crying?”

“You see… his little sister lives there… he had lost all hope in this city, its higher-ups, and its adventurers. That’s why… gifting you the staff is his way of helping in this upcoming war.”

“I’m sorry… I didn’t know th-”

“It’s ok. He knows there is nothing anyone can do. Yet seeing that some are still willing to try... I bet it broke him.” Her head shakes a little, and I see as water begins to accumulate in her eyes.

“Do you also have someone there?”

“No, I don’t. But I have been working next to him for as long as I remember. We are more than neighbors, and I count him and his family as mine.”

“I see. I’m sorry we can’t do anything more.”

“It’s more than anyone else is doing. Take care, and come to see us if we exit victoriously of this war.”

“I will, thank you!”

There are lives at stake. I repeat to myself. Of course, I’ve always known it, but each time it sinks more. Each time it gets more personal. Fuck. Without any more mental strength to do anything else, I decide to log out.

Let’s meet at 8pm, our stall. We will meet everyone at 9pm at the East gate

.

I send the message to my friends and try to catch some real sleep.