Libriohexer (Wolfman Warlock Book 2) - Chapter Fourteen

The eastern city gates rose up like towering sentinels, standing guard over the shining jewel of humanity, Ardania. The gates were enormous things, easily large enough to accommodate a swarm of T-rexes, and the connecting walls loomed forty-feet tall with wide ramparts. Guards in conically helmets, carrying hooked halberds and oversized long bows, patrolled the upper walks. It was an intimidating display and a reminder of exactly how much work the Wolfman had to do if they were going to win the war against humanity.

Sam was glad he’d abandoned the Mage’s College and joined with the People instead, but there was no question they were the weaker force. And sometimes Sam begrudgingly admitted he missed the splendor and convenience of the city. No walls to scale. No threats from the wild constantly breathing down his neck. Regular, indoor plumbing.

The city guards manning the gates themselves watched the ebb and flow of traffic as players trickled back into the city after a long day of grinding and adventuring. It was an hour to night fall, the sun already falling low against the horizon, so the majority of the traffic was headed in, not out. For most players—other than those aligned with the Wolfman—a night spent outside the walls was the next best thing to a death sentence. Sam and Finn didn’t talk as they watched the lead sentry, a heavy-set man with thinning hair and bags under his eyes, wave people through with a flick of his wrist. He didn’t bother to ask any questions or even look too closely at who was passing through.

Still, Sam held his breath, hoping the sweat running down his forehead wouldn’t give him away.

<Can you please stop trying to look so guilty?> Bill hissed in his head. The book was hanging from his side, motionless. Books were a rarity around these parts, and a magical, floating, talking book would’ve been a dead giveaway. <Your face might as well be screaming I did something wrong, arrest me now.Just play it cool.>

Turned out, Bill was right. The guard’s sleepy eyes rested a moment longer on Sam and Finn then they had on some of the others, but then he sniffed, yawned, and motioned them through anyway.

“See, I told you,” Finn whispered as the passed beneath the portcullis, “the heat has cooled down significantly. It’s still best we mind out Ps and Qs—don’t want to attract any undue suspicion if we can avoid it—but as long as we keep our noses clean, we should be golden.”

Sam felt an invisible weight lift from his shoulders as they effortlessly slipped into the crowd, quickly lost in a sea of faces. They stuck to the warren of side streets and back alleyways, where guards were less likely to patrol and where Mages from the College would never be caught dead. Not that this was the bad part of town. The cobblestones underfoot were worn from the passing of countless feet, true, but the quaint wooden shops were well-maintained, their wooden shutters thrown wide in welcome, the peaked roofs covered with thick thatch or wood-slated tiles.

The whole place was alive with the hustle and bustle of folk moving about their daily routines, picking up bolts of cloth from the tailor or visiting the local butcher or blacksmith. The air was fragrant with the smell of humanity and the air buzzed with the noise of business. A hammer fell on metal in the distance, *clang-clang-clang*, while street hawkers lingered in open alleyways, crying their wares at passerbys.

“Refurbished weapons for sale!” Called a grizzled vet with a few wisps of silver hair and tanned skin like old shoe leather. “Guaranteed to keep you safe against even the deadliest opponents.” That seemed like a rather dubious clam since he was missing one eye and more than one limb. The poor fellow looked like he’d lost a fight with a woodchipper. “Limited warranties available with a purchase of five items or more!”

Sam smiled politely at the vendor but kept right on moving.

“Get yer meat skewer, here. Genuine Bunny meat—no rat at all,” bellowed another industrious seller, this one a whip-thin man wearing a tunic heavily stained with grease and dirt.

“That vendor doth protest too much, me thinks,” Finn offered, giving the ratty little man a wide berth.

<Yep,> Bill said, <there is definitely rat meat in those skewers. Heck, if I was a betting book, I’d say it’s mostly rat meat.>

Sam had to agree, but that reminded him of the ulterior motive behind his quest. He needed to pick up ingredients for his soon-to-be hatched Chicken Matriarch. Long term, she was going to be his proverbial golden goose, but he needed magical alchemic ingredients first. That could be a wee bit of a problem since his operational funds were running thin around the edges. He’d started off the game with fifty-thousand dollars sitting in the bank, but thanks to the ridiculous price gouging at the College, he’d burned through nearly all of that by the time he finally cut ties with the greedy Mages.

His Coreless Spell Infusion ability allowed him to mass produce spell scrolls, which could be sold for a pretty penny, but even that was an iffy proposition. The College tightly regulated magic and selling scrolls as a Warlock was an easy way to get flagged by the College. So, they’d had to dole the spells out at little bit at a time in order to stay under the radar. As a result, Sam had just under five hundred gold to his name, the real-world equivalent of five thousand dollars. He figured he’d have to spend most of that to get the ingredients he needed, but if his dad had taught him anything, it was that in business you had to spend money to make it.

“Speaking of food,” Sam said, “before we head over to the library, I was hoping we could swing by an alchemist.” He stole a sidelong glance at Finn. “Know anyone who has reasonable prices on bulk items and will deal with us?”

Finn stroked his chin for a moment. “Most of the alchemists worth their salt are sanctioned and licensed by the Mages College—especially the ones who deal with bulk item orders. Given our status, we likely only have two options. One”—he thrust a finger into the air—“we can go with an unlicensed alchemist. But if we do that, the chances of getting fleeced are incredibly high, plus there’s no guarantee you’ll even get what you pay for. There’s a reason unlicensed Alchemists are unlicensed. Option number two”—he stuck another finger into the air—“is the better bet. Deal with the Upright Men. You’ll get what you want, but the tradeoff is that it’ll cost you double what it would to get from a legitimate supplier.”

Sam frowned. He didn’t like the sound of either of those options.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Finn said, “what exactly are you hoping to concoct, hmm? If it’s some sort of potion, there might be off brand bulk ingredients we could substitute. The Wolfmen may not be quite as sophisticated in some of their alchemic sciences, but they have some wonderful naturalistic alternatives.”

“No, nothing like that,” Sam said, edging around a portly woman wearing an enormous puffy skirt. “I want enhanced ingredients to feed my new chickens.” Sam winced as he said the words, waiting for Finn to mock him just like everyone else had.

Instead, the boy visibly brightened. “Feedstock, is it? Well, that simplifies things considerably! But ingredients aren’t the way to go.” He frowned and shook his head. “Oh no. Aside from being absurdly hard to get, pure ingredients will cost so much more, because they can be used in a thousand different ways. If this is about diet, we should just focus on magically infused foods.”

“Wait, what?” Sam asked, stopping abruptly. Magically infused foods? He’d never heard of such a thing. “I don’t understand. Are they like potions or something?”

“Sort of like potions,” Finn nodded vigorously, “and also, no not at all like potions. Frankly, I’m not surprised you haven’t heard of them. They are cheaper than bushelsful of pure alchemic ingredients, but they aren’t cheap. Cheaper, maybe, but it’s a sliding scale. Besides, the types of establishments that serve the kind of food that you’re looking for only cater to the very upper crust of human society.” He grabbed Sam by the sleeve and pulled him into a connecting side street. “You’ll see. I know just the place.”

Finn guided them like a bloodhound with a scent in his nose toward North Waterside, one of the wealthiest districts in Ardania.

They quickly left behind the less desirable part of the cityscape, trading simple two and three story shops of wood and plaster for hulking buildings of stone and granite and marble. The rough cobblestone, likewise, gave way for wide boulevards of fine stone slabs and gas-lit lamp posts dotting the sidewalks. There were no hawkers here, no dirt-smudged faces or common folk in rough tunics or linen pants. The inhabitants wore stylish doublets, spell enchanted armor, or velvety robes. The ladies were equally well dressed in their petticoats, parasols clutched over one shoulder.

Bill whistled softly. “Swanky. This is the kind of place I think I could get used to,” he whispered. “I don’t even have a nose and I can still smell the air is cleaner here. Tell me again why we opted to live in a hole in the ground?”

“Freedom,” Sam said under his breath. “I’d rather be free with the wolfmen then beholden to a system that puts a golden collar around my neck.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Finn added darkly. “This is the pretty face of the nobility. The fine parties and clean streets. But scratch the paint and you’ll see rot all the way through.” He smiled at a passing noblewoman who sniffed dismissively and crossed the street without a word. “See that? It’s all a façade. Posturing and peacocking. Maneuvering for some minor advantage over peers while the rest of humanity barely ekes by. And the Mages College, which is thoroughly corrupt, props up the whole ugly system.”

“I’m not saying you’re wrong,” Bill replied. “I’ve been around a long time and I’ve witnessed that ugliness firsthand, but man do I miss the parties and the splendor. Might be fake, but boy is it fun.”

“I’ll give you that,” Finn agreed, spreading his hands in concession. “Ah, here we are.”

Finn nodded toward a three-story building with wide arches and colorful awnings, tables sprawled out beneath. Magical torches, shedding warmth but no flames, adorned the outdoor patio, heating the guests from the brisk bite in the early evening air. A sign dangled above the entryway, the Peacock Parlor. Sam had eaten at enough snobbish gourmet restaurants IRL to recognize one when he saw it. The clatter of silverware on porcelain plates and the heady aroma drifting out of the archways helped too. Finn, donned the confidence of a noble, marched up to the hostess, and put on his most winning smile.

He might’ve been from a poor house, but a noble was a noble and this was his world.

“Good evening,” Finn said, “my friend and I would like to look at a menu.”

The hostesses eyed them for a long bit, her lips pursed into a thin line of disapproval.

“I’m sorry, sir,” she said, surveying the less-than-immaculate state of Finn’s robes, “but this establishment only caters to those of a certain… caliber. I’m sure you understand.”

It was one of the most insulting and patronizing things Sam had ever heard.

Finn drew himself up, puffing out his chest, face red and indignant.

“How dare you,” he scolded in his most petulant tone. “I am the heir of House Luastsen and my esteemed colleague here is a sorcerer in good standing with the Mage’s College.” Her face paled by the word. “We have spent the day hunting wild game and decided to sup at your humble establishment, yet you would deny us? And just who exactly are you anyway, to speak so to us, hmm?”

“I… Well… I certainly didn’t mean to cause offensive, m’Lord.”

“And yet offense you have caused offense.” Finn folded his arm and started tapping his foot. “If I don’t have a menu in my hands in less than thirty seconds, I shall be forced to escalate this matter to someone of greater stature. I will call your manager.”

Her eyes flared wide with a glint of hope. “Of course,” she squawked, frantically scrambling away.

“That was a total lie,” Sam whispered.

“Phft,” Finn replied, rolling his eyes. “Obviously. You’re a mage in good standing in the same way I’m the heir to House Luastsen, but she’s not going to question that. This whole city breeds absolute deference to mages and nobles. Besides, no one would claim such an outlandish thing unless it was true.” His grin stretched wider. “Lying about things like that is a good way to end up on a wanted list. Fortunately for us, we are already as wanted as you can get.”

The hostess scampered back into view a second later with a pair of menus clasped to her chest as though they were life preservers. She bowed deeply and handed them over, muttering apologies and thanks. Honestly, the whole thing made Sam feel a little sick to his stomach. Finn was right, this place might’ve had a veneer of glamour and sophistication, but really it was no different than his superficial life in California. This was the very same entitlement and elitism he’d come to this game to escape from.

Sam accepted the menu with a grimace as she backed away, nearly doubled over in contrition. He tried to put the hostesses from his mind and turned to the menu itself.

Hors d'oeuvre

Shucked Black Pholiota

Red Wine Goldhorn Vinaigrette, Tarragon Sweet Marula, Pan-Sear Black Pholiota.  – 8 gold

Benefits: DAKOTA. Common Benefits/Buffs here.

Sautéed Mammoth Trout

Harmony Herb Butter, Roc Whip Lemon, Seasonal Mammoth Trout – 7 gold

Benefits: DAKOTA. Common Benefits/Buffs here.

Saffron Infused Russula Tartare

Saffron, Uni Butter, and Lemon basted Russula – 6 gold

Benefits: DAKOTA. Common Benefits/Buffs here.

Dwarven-Style Deep-Fried Whey Cakes

Sweet Mint Glaze, Spicy Eiphrac Peppers, Bean Sprout Whey Cakes, Roc Lobster Cream Sauce –10 gold

Benefits: DAKOTA. Common Benefits/Buffs here. Thoughts, Strength or Constitution Boosts or Resistance against blunt weapon damage?

Soup of the Day

Cup 5 gold / bowl 8 gold

Tomato Bisque and Shaved Basil

Avgolemono with Flame-Infused Chicken

Crème of Hemling

Entrées

Lake Otter Au Poivre

Iopafnos and Herb Crust, Bindweed Puree, Sweet and Sour Pearl Figs, Coarse Cracked Peppercorn, Jus – 13 Gold

Benefits: DAKOTA. Common Benefits/Buffs here.

Blackened Roast Chicken

Arugula, Heirloom Webcap Vinaigrette, Black Garlic with Fennel – 11 Gold

Benefits: DAKOTA. Common Benefits/Buffs here.

Braised Filet Medallions

Château Gratin, Strained Naga Scale & Red Wine Demi-Glace – 12 Gold

Benefits: DAKOTA. Common Benefits/Buffs here.

Cheapside Lamb Rack

Grilled Apples, Glazed Walnut Drizzle, Brined Parmesan Crust – 12 Gold

Benefits: DAKOTA. Common Benefits/Buffs here.

45 Day Dry-Aged Bear Steak

16 oz. Shaved Shiarrot, Almond Herb Sauce, Pink Cavern Salt – 17 Gold

Benefits: DAKOTA. Common Benefits/Buffs here.

Dessert

Rambutan and Cream

Mana-Infused Selection of Ripe Rambutan and Whipped Cream – 5

Benefits: DAKOTA. Common Benefits/Buffs here.

Banana Bread Pudding

Classic Bread Pudding, Hint of Banana, Drizzled with Caramel Sauce – 5 Gold

Benefits: DAKOTA. Common Benefits/Buffs here.

Peacock’s Delight

Decadent Cocao Mousse, White Walnut Fudge, Crème de Mint Liqueur, Topped with Vanilla Ice Cream – 8 Gold

Benefits: DAKOTA. Common Benefits/Buffs here.

Sam’s eyebrows climb as he read over the items.

The meals themselves sounded delicious and the buffs they offered were impressive, but he could only shake his head at the prices. Maybe Finn was right, and this place really was cheaper than going to an alchemist, but it was still outrageouslyexpensive. The cheapest thing on the menu was a small bowl of soup, and even that cost five gold—or fifty bucks. The most expensive entrée was one-hundred and fifty dollars a plate. A full meal here wound probably run close to three-hundred dollars per person. Sure, he could hypothetically afford to eat here, but it would burn through his money in days instead of months, and he would never get enough to feed an entire brood of chickens.

Finn, seeming to catch Sam’s mood, leaned over and slung an arm around his shoulders.

“Don’t worry, old boy. Remember, I’m a poor noble, I know exactly how much of a sticker shock it is. Just follow my lead.” He raised his voice. “I agree, it is outrageous. I too think I’ve lost my appetite.” He beckoned the rude hostess from behind her counter and pushed the menus toward her. “We’ve decided not to patronize your establishment tonight. Perhaps we will try the Painted Stranger instead. I’m sure they will accommodate us according to our station.” He humped, turned on a heel and stalked off, dragging Sam along with him.

“What was that all about?” Sam asked, resisting the urge to steal a look backward. “Why check out the menu at all if we weren’t going to order?”

“So that you could see what the food does, obviously,” Finn replied rolling his eyes. “Figuring out the buffs can be tricky. But ordering there will break the bank as surely as paying a visit to the local alchemist. But unlike the alchemist, there’s another way to get what you need.”

They took a right, walked up a block, and hung another right, doubling back until the restaurant was in view. This time, however, Finn didn’t lead Sam to the entrance, but rather guided him to a narrow alley that ran behind the building proper. Tucked just out of view was a large wooden waste bin, heaped up with spoiling food and old leftovers.

Finn smiled like a loon and waved a hand at the bin as though it were the grandest loot box of all.

“Behold!” he crowed. “You see, unlike pure alchemic ingredients that are good more or less indefinitely, mana and elementally infused food has a half-life, which is why it’s so expensive. Here’s the catch. They can’t serve food that has started to degrade. It would ruin their reputation as surely as a rodent outbreak, so they wind up disposing pounds and pounds of perfectly good food.”

“But if it’s perfectly good why don’t they just sell it at a discount?” Sam asked.

Bill snorted. “Are you kidding me? Places like these are about the exclusivity as much as they are about the food. If plebs like you and me could get ahold of this stuff, snooty rich nobles wouldn’t want to eat it anymore.”

“Wait, so you’re saying they would literally rather throw it away then give it to people who would benefit from it?” Sam asked.

“Of course,” Finn said with a shrug, as though that should have been the most self-evident thing in the whole world. “But that’s good news for us.” He reached over and pulled out a huge hunk of meat that looked delicious despite being dumpster fair. “Your chickens won’t care where we got it, and this isn’t the only restaurant that serves magically infused food. So long as you’re willing to get your hands dirty, we can get more than enough to feed your brood and it won’t cost you a dime.”