In Ganurg’s Golden Jug bar, Greg sat alone at the counter, draining his mug’s contents sip by sip all the while maintaining a tense expression as he focused on the sheets below.
Now and then, he’d rub his great brown bread, as though to draw out any wisdom that nestled in its midst.
‘If I go there, then he’ll go here, then do this and that, and then I’ll get him with that and that, then he’ll be helpl-’
“Oh, you’re here.”
His complex mental calculations were shattered as a familiar voice echoed in his ears. Glancing up, he found Joan, the owner of this establishment and long-time lover. On her face, was her ever cheeky smile.
“If it isn’t mister Larky. Still depressed about yesterday, I heard you almost had it.”
Greg sighed at the words. “Joan…that wound is still fresh. Do you enjoy seeing my pained face?" he asked while putting on a clearly faked pained expression.
Joan chuckled at his antics “So? Should I fill your cup to wash away the sadness?" she asked as she tapped his almost empty mug.
Greg didn’t answer immediately. Shutting his eyes, he considered her question. His expression flickered erratically as he endured an intense inner conflict. Seconds later, a decision was made. Eyes open, he answered, “No, I’m good. I plan to avenge my defeat. I will need to be in top form.”
Another chuckle left Joan as she shook her head. “Even if you drank a hundred more mugs, it wouldn’t really matter. Besides to a Natural, I can’t see that geezer losing in that game. It's been what, twelve years already, and no one has managed to claim that prize. At this point, you’re just stuffing his pockets.”
Greg merely shook his head at these words. Downing the last of his liquor, he stood up, donning a subtle smile. Without a word, he moved to the exit. Striding away with the confidence and determination of a dauntless warrior ready to meet any challenge, he stopped at the doorway, and with his back turned spoke in his gruff voice.
“If you don’t try, you’ll never succeed. A battlefield stands before me. No matter how many times it takes…until I see him defeated, I’ll continue to march. My steps will never pause nor retreat. Farewell.”
*Step*
Leaving these words behind, he exited the bar.
‘How cool,’ Joan naturally thought as she stared at the entranceway. ‘At least it should have been…if I’d not heard you say it every day for the last twenty-seven days.’
Joan’s face curled up into a smile. “Good luck.”
***
[[What do you think?]]
Moving through the Ganurg streets, Ralf asked.
[[We’ll keep looking. They didn’t look too well off and the last one would definitely try to scam us, hundred percent.]]
[[Hmm, if they’re not shady, they’re too poor. Should we consider selling the ideas to multiple parties?]]
[[We could, but that could get messy. Oh, Ralf, focus on the fountain, it looks neat.]]
[[On it.]]
Saying this, Ralf honed in on the circular fountain at the centre of the tiled square.
It had been thirty minutes since they began exploring Ganurg. Five minutes in, Rei had the idea to use the helmet to record everything they experienced, in hopes of recreating the town in the Mental Space. Creating virtual spaces from scratch was hard work, so by doing this, they saved a lot of time and effort. The duo also had thoughts of doing the same thing with Lagner when they had the time.
‘Hmm? Is that?’
Ralf’s steps hastened as he caught the shiny glints in the waters. Arriving at the edge, he peered down through the clear waters. The duo’s eyes widened as they made the discovery.
Coins, hundreds of them, and they all lay at the bottom.
Ralf and Rei were left momentarily dazed. In their daze, a person managed to saddle up behind them.
*Swoosh*
Suddenly, a coin flew past their vision. The water splashed up slightly as the coin joined its brethren below.
Awoken, Ralf turned around and captured the coin tosser.
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Visually, Ralf thought that the man wouldn’t be out of a place on a pirate ship. However, capturing the smile that hid amidst his great beard, Ralf could sense a friendly aura exuding from him.
“Must be surprised, everyone is when they first come here and see this,” Greg said while naturally moving to Ralf’s side.
“My reaction gave me away?”
“Even without it, I’d know. I pretty much know everyone in this town, and can spot a fresh face like yours easily.”
Ralf's eyes lit up at these words.
“This is the Fountain of Luck,” Greg started unprompted. “You toss in a coin, and your luck increases in proportion to the value you give…at least that’s the idea. This place is a hub for Adventurers. Before heading out to the forest, they usually drop a coin in here. Most of these coins come from their pockets.”
“And no one steals them,” Ralf asked as his eyes lingered on the coins.
“People have tried in the past, many times. The end is always the same though. This fountain plays a special role in Ganurg. Every month, it is emptied out and the money is used to improve the town in some way. This custom is popular here. Anyone who is caught violating this custom meets a gruesome end. I trust you weren’t having such thoughts. You strike me as a good lad.”
“Of course, I would never dream of it,” Ralf said with a shrug.
“That’s good to know.”
“Mister, if you came here, does that mean you’re going on an adventure?”
Greg shook his head, then steeled his expression and said, “No, but where I’m heading is fraught with trials and tribulations as well.”
“Oh,” Ralf’s attention spiked at the words.
Seeing him hooked, Greg smirked. “A battlefield, that’s where I’m headed to.”
“Oh, really? You’re battling someone, who?”
“An incredible foe.”
“An incredible foe,” Ralf repeated with sparkling eyes.
He and Rei had a back and forth as they sized up Greg. While he couldn’t be considered fat, he certainly wasn’t missing any meals.
[[Physical attributes are really only substantial in the lower ranks, he might be a strong psionic,]] Rei reasoned as he took in Greg's pudgy form.
“Oh, I know, why don’t you come with me?”
Ralf was brought back to reality at the question.
“Come with you?” he repeated blankly.
“Yes, you can be my lucky charm. You, appearing by this fountain must be a sign from Raiken. How about it?”
Ralf didn’t answer immediately. He consulted his other self’s opinion, who ended up saying, [[Go with him. He seems connected. We might find the right person or people through him. Also, I’m interested in this battlefield he’s talking about. Let's have a look-see.]]
Hearing Rei out, Ralf quickly agreed to Greg’s offer.
“Fantastic. With you by my side, I’m sure today is the day. By the way, my name’s Greg Larky, but you can call me Greg. What’s yours?”
“My name’s Ralf, Ralf…Fawkes.”
Greg's eyes flickered as he caught the surname. “Ralf, that’s a good name. Fawkes, as in a descendant of the Fire Spirit?”
“Yep, that's right. Fire burns through these veins,” Ralf said as he showed a proud smile.
“Oh, amazing. You must be something special then. With you by my side, I’m sure I’ll ascend like fire itself. Now, let's make haste, there’s a battle to be won.”
Ralf smiled, amused by the middle-aged man’s antics. Playing along, he did a salute and followed after him.