Equinox walked out into a corridor lit up with an abundance of natural light after leaving the room he shared with Wyntir.
Unlike the night before, every torch mounted on the walls were extinguished, most likely in an effort to preserve combustible fuel.
Besides the subdued sound of chatter coming from the floor below, the second floor of the Leafy Delights was peaceful and quiet; closed doors lining the hallway a testament to those within still being fast asleep or logged out.
The noise levels markedly rose as the pair descended down the stairs, the smells of baking bread and frying meats intensifying in concert. Before Equinox could wonder about their source, his stomach gurgled then growled, causing his thoughts to scatter to the winds even as Wyntir stopped, one foot firmly placed on the lower step as she twisted around slightly and looked at him with an amused sparkle in her eyes.
“Someone sounds hungry.” She teased, turning away to continue walking downstairs.
“Shut it.” He retorted, following her lead. “I didn’t think hunger would be a thing in NAoC, too.”
Stepping off the last step and walking parallel to the wooden counter, she shot back, “Did you not feel hungry while we were fighting the creatures just now?”
Now that the partial silverette brought it up,, the brunet realised he actually had not; something he immediately told her about.
“That… is odd.” She commented, head turning a tad to level him with a thoughtful look. Before she could continue, however, the rotund proprietress bustled out from a door in the back wall, announcing herself with a loud bang of wood on wood.
“Good mornin’, lass, lad. I hope tha room treated ye two kindly?”
“Good morning to you as well, madam.” Wyntir greeted politely. “The room was fine, thank you. Also, could we get something to eat?”
The middle-aged woman grunted affirmatively. “O’ course ye can. Anything specific both o’ ye have in mind?”
“Something basic,” he offered, head briefly dipping in greeting as he stepped forward, “Or something to eat on the move works fine, too.”
Looking at Wyntir and getting a confirmatory nod, the proprietress grunted agreeably then left, disappearing through the walnut-brown door she had just come out from; momentarily revealing a large scale kitchen through the gap.
Equinox took a seat at the counter, patiently waiting for the rotund woman to reappear. Instead of joining him, Wyntir rested against the bar countertop’s edge, arms loosely crossed under her bust as she surveyed the room.
He rested his elbows on the wooden surface and supported his chin on his hands after interlacing his fingers, sinking deep in thought.
Oddly enough, feeling hunger in VRMMORPGs wasn’t as common as one might expect. Though it added a touch of realism to a myriad of game-like settings, properly coding it into the game—or so developers claimed—was usually more trouble than it was worth by a long shot.
That’s why he hadn’t actually been expecting to feel hunger in-game – especially since no such pangs had been felt yesterday, when he should have felt something by all rights as a result of combat and being under the merciless gaze of the blazing Sun.
Unlacing his fingers and straightening up, Equinox slipped his right hand into his pocket and brought up the moderate-sized inventory, instantly zeroing in on one specific item.
Water Canteen | Grade: G
With this little beauty, dehydration will never become a problem ever again – assuming it is refilled on the regular.
Reassuming his previous position, he sunk back into thought after digesting the blurb he just re-read.
Part of him, even if a small part, lambasted himself for failing to extrapolate that hunger would be a concern. Another, more realistic part, admitted that with other things drawing his attention at the time, such a slip wasn’t all that surprising.
On the bright side, all he had to do now was fill up the water canteen and then his food and water needs would be handled – at least, in the short term.
A slight weight on his shoulder pulled Equinox out of his thoughts. Glancing at Wyntir’s slender limb and tracing it up to her shoulder then neck then face, he realised she wasn’t looking at him; merely using his shoulder as a makeshift armrest while scanning the slowly filling up, ground floor.
Sparing a glance at the area but finding nothing of interest, he shrugged internally and sunk back into his thoughts…
Only for a loud bang to put a stop to that; the middle-aged proprietress bustling out through the thrown open back door, large serving tray laden with various sandwiches and two steaming mugs in hand.
Placing it on the countertop with a surprisingly gentle thump, she exclaimed boisterously, “Orders up!”
Eyeing it with an assessing gaze, he tuned out Wyntir as she conversed with the woman, seeing what he could identify amongst the foodstuffs.
Grilled cheese. Ham and scrambled eggs. And… diced tomatoes and some sort of meat paste? That last one momentarily threw him for a loop, not having expected it at all. Picking up the mug, he took a small sniff of the liquid and realised it was a tea of some sort.
Cautiously taking a sip, he smacked his lips together as a metallic, floral note slid over his tastebuds. While the flavour was… different, to put it mildly, he thought it was surprisingly pleasant; no matter how odd.
Taking a larger, less cautious sip, he swirled the liquid around in his mouth and savoured its warmth before swallowing the mouthful. Just as he set the mug back down, Wyntir snatched it up and took an experimental whiff, before taking a small, delicate sip of the unknown tea; slender, smooth throat bobbing as she swallowed.
He looked at her, brow arched pointedly. “You realise you have your own mug right?”
“Mmhmm.” She hummed agreeably, before impishly winking and deliberately taking another sip then placing the mug back down where he had left it. “Sharing is caring, ne?”
He rolled his eyes, but didn’t continue on, used to her random flights of fancy by now. Seeing that the middle-aged woman had disappeared at some point, he asked. “Whatever you say. Anyway, what were you talking to the proprietress about? I wasn’t paying attention.”
Taking a seat next to him, she picked up her—thankfully—own mug and took a sip, before delicately nibbling on a charred square of ham and eggs. “Martha was telling me about the tea. Apparently, it is steeped using leaves from the Pyrite Trees.”
Following her example, he picked up a tomato and paste sandwich and took a large bite. As the fishiness of tuna coated his tastebuds, he hurriedly chewed and swallowed before cleansing his palette with a large swig of pyrite leaf tea; proper name pending.
“interesting.” He commented, then took another hesitant bite of tuna and tomato. “Martha?”
She hummed in confirmation. “That is her name, evidently. The Leafy Delights is an inn run by herself and her husband.”
“Husband?”
“Yes, husband.” Pausing for a moment, she took another dainty bite of ham and eggs, swallowed, and chased it down with another sip. “He serves as the head chef for the Leafy Delights.”
“My thanks to the chef, then.” He intoned, before polishing off a ham and egg sandwich. “Is Martha’s husband the one responsible for the tea, as well?”
“Nope~.” She rejected, popping the ‘p’ then popping the last morsels of ham and eggs in her mouth with ingrained grace. “Wallace, her husband, is only responsible for the food. All the beverages were allegedly ideated and concocted by Martha.”
Taking a sip of said beverage, Equinox nodded in understanding and remained silent, curiosity sated for now. Following his example, Wyntir didn’t add anything more; the pair focusing on polishing off the assorted sandwiches and pyrite leaf tea.
As they were doing so, more and more people—a large majority recognisable as otherworldly foreigners—descended the staircase, making the ground floor even noisier than before.
By the time the space was almost full to the bursting and the racket was a hair’s breadth from being overwhelming, the pair were forced to speak at a volume just under a shout to be heard even as their speed of consumption increased.
Soon enough, all the food laid out between the two was consumed to the last crumb. Chasing down the last bit of grilled cheese with the metallic dregs of pyrite leaf tea, Equinox dusted off his hands and got up to his feet, quickly finding Martha waitressing between tables after a look around.
Glancing down at Wyntir and seeing that she was almost done as well, he gained Martha’s attention with an intentional wave; having no qualms in doing so, considering he had seen others do likewise at earlier points.
“Glad to see tha two o’ you enjoyed.” She cheerily stated, once close enough to be heard over the increasing din. “Can I get ye two anythin’ else?”
Raising an inquiring brow at Wyntir and getting a gentle shake of the head in response, he answered with a smile. “We’re good, and my compliments to the chef. Should we just leave the tray here or…?”
She returned his smile with one filled with pride, something that made it look like years had just sluffed off her weathered frame. “I’ll let my Wally know you said tha’. Don’t ye worry ‘bout it, leave it ere and git; my girls will handle everythin’.”
As if to prove her point, Martha looked over her shoulder and shouted for someone named Dorothy, causing a younger, rather petite waitress to hurriedly scurry over; impish curl to her lips, making her look all the younger.
After the impish waitress cleared away the empty tray and disappeared into the back, Equinox pushed away from the bar counter, offered Martha a word of farewell, and wound his way through the fully occupied tables; avoiding other patrons all the while.
He was hit by a blast of unpleasantly dry air the moment he pushed through the doors, intersecting canopies of the surrounding Pyrite Trees offering an oasis of shade to combat the merciless rays from the rising Sun. The natural din of denizens going about early morning tasks filled the air, substantially livening up the atmosphere and casting Golden Trees Village in a charmingly quaint light.
Walking off to the side, he made sure he wasn’t blocking the way out before glancing at his minimap’s panel, managing to chart out the fastest route from the Leafy Delights to the militia’s training grounds after some quick scrutiny.
“Shall we head to the training grounds now?” Wyntir asked, joining him to the side after she left the establishment. Making sure he had the route properly memorised, he sent her an approving thumbs up and walked off.
With the Leafy Delights being located in the Southeast and the militia’s training grounds in the Southwest, the trek over didn’t take too long.
As they approached, the discordant clash of steel against steel grew louder and louder, replacing the din created by villagers and otherworldly foreigners alike.
Much like the day prior—or perhaps, hours ago in real time, more accurately—a large crowd of men and women were engaged in one-on-one sparring bouts atop the rushes and straw; causing dried plant life to scatter about and be carried with the winds as people fell and got up then fell again, all under the supervising eye of leather-garbed militia.
Scanning the area as he walked onto the grounds proper, Equinox looked around, trying to find a familiar face amongst the sweaty crowd. Just as he spotted a familiar shade of lovely brown hair, a muscly, rather unwelcome, bald brute of a man blocked his view.
“Well well. Look who came back!” Spittle liberally flew from Maximillion’s lips like bullets as he folded his arms over his chest, vein throbbing prominently on his bald pate. “Colour me fuckin’ surprised!”
Before he could give the combative lieutenant his two creds, Wyntir stepped forward, icy mask firmly in place and clearly raring for a fight. “What does us being here have anything to do with you, you belligerent cre—”
The loud smack of flesh on flesh cut Wyntir off mid-insult; Annie bounding out of seemingly nowhere to land a painful-looking strike upside the lieutenant’s hairless head, causing Equinox to smother an amused laugh.
“Stop harassing the kiddos and get back to your actual job, Lieutenant!” Annie barked, immediately circling around to interpose herself between Equinox and Wyntir and face the far more imposing man, mano a mano.
Maximillion glared down at Annie, their difference in height made glaringly obvious, but the latter didn’t budge. After a tense moment of silence, the brutish lieutenant grunted and turned away – although, not before leaving behind a parting, condescending shot, one that caused Equinox’s amusement to die an abrupt death.
“As you say, Captain. And, black-haired boy, if you want to get some real trainin’ done, come look for me – but don’ bloody brin’ that prissy bint with ya!”
