Interlude

Dear Readers,

First thank you for reading. This marks the end of part one. Other news is I'm changing the name, The new new name is AntruA. I am going through part one now, to update the name and to fix and edit. So you may want to go back and catch up on the chapters you've missed and reread your favorites,

Thanks again
Love you all
Sam Schlang  

Seventeenth Chapter

Ragnar

When his shift at the bank ended Ragnar went across the street to the building with all the crafting stations.The material he had gathered on his trip to the forest with MoMony had been burning a hole in his imagination through his whole shift. He could't stop thinking about the jewel he had found and he was really struggling to avoid expectations, but power of Zeus could only be good; he hoped.

When he entered the shop he was surprised to find it empty. It wasn’t too surprising that the noobs hadn’t found it. He had interacted with a many characters in the bank who seemed to with it enough to figure this out, at the very least Ragnar had expected to find MoMony here. After the hours Ragnar had spent behind the desk in the bank it seemed unlikely MoMony would still be out in the woods, maybe he was out trying to sell whatever he had made. Upon approaching the table for crafting melee weapons all thoughts of MoMony fled.

The table was a thick slab of wood polished smooth by age and use. It was unadorned of anything. When he looked at it directly,the table lit up. Like using a giant touch screen Ragnar was quickly able to navigate to the Upgrade. He was now faced with three options, metal bands on the handle for an increased defense, a spike added to the butt of the handle for a new attack and finally adding a socket which allowed a jewel or rune to enhance the weapon. The choice was obvious.

Ragnar’s finger pressed the image for enhancement. The grain of the wood began to move, shift. What had seemed chaos started to take shape. Growing into a complicated system of gears,bowls, tools from every school of engineering. He let out a breath when things stopped moving, an arrow lit up pointing to two small bowls each labeled Metal. He then watched as the bowls started an amazing journey through this contraption.

Seemingly started by the weight of the metal the whole system was self driven. Each step created the momentum which powered the next, each making its own noise. He was so engrossed it took a few moment to realize that these reactions had cause a belt to start, indicating five strips of leather. With both the metal and leather moving, it became sensory overload there was so much going on, the noise rose to an absolute cacophony.It was only by luck that Ragnar was looking right at a clip as it sprung open. Axe could be seen with the cip open, So he placed his axe in the clip which then snapped close. Now things really started to happen. The axe flipped over and everything stopped. The noise stopped. Slowly the structure came down, retreating back into the table’s grain.

Soon only an axe lay on the now empty table. This axe was totally different then the weapon he’d fed into the machine. The two blades were now rectangular like cleavers. They connected to the heft via a large band of metal. This band also held the socket, which Ragnar wasted no time in filling with his jewel. As the jewel clicked into place a bolt of lightning struck it. The bolt welded the jewel into the weapon, the blades were now both ingrained with lightning bolts. Ragnar pick up the axe and felt a slight vibration, as if the weapon itself moved with anticipation. He gave it a few practice swings, pleased to find that though the axe looked different it handled the same. Placing into its holster on his back he turned his back on the empty room and left the building.

He paused before stepping into the rush of the main street. With the new axe all he wanted was to see how the “power of Zeus” would work. It was the thought of his last few trips into the wild that stopped him. Other than when he had been working as a bodyguard, the trips had been boring and unsatisfactory. The wilds were just too empty. Based on the constant flow by the porch, everybody must be staying in town. He figured there must be something keeping people here, some form of social networking going on. The only way to find out was to talk with people, investigate the town.

The building to Ragnar’s left seemed as good a place to start as any. It had a lively crowd in front, working themselves into a frenzy over a fighting circle. After observing for a few moments he noticed a few characters seeming to be taking bets. From where he stood he could see four of them. It was easy to pick them out of the crowd because they all wore as much red as they could fit onto their outfits. Looking beyond the fights and its crowd he started to notice just how much red was being worn. It all seemed to center around the building to the left, not just because the betting and the fight. Characters dressed all in red came and went from the building with an incredible frequency. Wanting to understand more he made his way into the darkness of the doorway.

The room was bigger than looked possible from outside. The room was dim but  dark. A variety of lamps were scattered through the room on tables. lights were also ensconced, in a random assortment of shades on the walls. The lights were set so that the circles of illuminations never overlapped. While they never overlapped they also left no space unlit. So the room was dim but well let, with no darkness, but many shadows.

About half the seats at the tables were filled, most with characters in red. In one corner of the room there were two doors, kitty corner to each other one open the other not. Most of the full tables were clustered around this corner. The wall with the closed door had a long bar. Unlike other bars this one had no drinks or art lining the wall behind it. Next to the closed door at the very end of the bar was a chair. The chair was actually not visible as it was completely obscured by it occupant. This was a big man, with broad shoulders and chest, barely contained in a dirty red shirt the sleeves rolled up to just above his elbows. He was slumped against the wall asleep.

Ragnar sat at an empty table near a wall, close enough to eavesdrop but also far enough to not get noticed doing it, hopefully. He looked back at the sleeping man seeing that his name was ChefBobOne65. A large cleaver was literally stuck in the bar within easy reach, not that it seemed to be any danger with its owner seemingly passed out. Ragnar subtilly turned his attention to the table next to him. Three people were sitting there, two of them, were listening raptly to the third.

“You ask of the benefits? Ohh the benefits, those are good. I mean real good.” The speaker was a silver fox with great posture. His outfit took all its influence from Robin Hood, replacing the sherwood green with soviet red. A rapier and dagger completed the look. His tail, free and constantly was as expressive as his words, and the name $1lvert0ngdf0x seemed adpt.  

“You are rewarded 50 ng for signing up. Right? How great is that? The Blue Army doesn’t give you anything. Nothing what kind of deal is that? There are more; we help you train, you get protection and a discount at any Red Army store.”

“What do you mean protection?” Asked one of the listeners, a tall thin very white skinned elf.

“Simple,” said the fox, “As a member of the Red Army every Red Soldier has your back. We own this town. No one will mess with you here. If you want to explore there’s a Red Army quartermaster, who will help you join a squad, that way you always have people to go exploring with you.” His canine grin was totally friendly, the twinkle in his eyes spoke to a darker amusement.

It was clear to Ragnar that the fox had his audience completely, whatever he was selling they were sold. Then the tall white elf spoke again. “That all sounds great.”

“But?” The fox asked.

“But what about being tokened? Can the Red Army protect us against that, you can’t really guarantee that we won’t be tokened.”

“I can if you stay a level one forever.” The fox grinned then continued. “You’re right though, tokening is a real problem. I have talked with at least ten people who said that they had been tokened as soon as they levelled up. That was why they wanted to join an army, they wanted to join the Red Army ‘cause it’s the best Army. We will help you get strong, put money in your pocket. If you do lose a battle, unlikely with allies, if it happens your body won’t be alone. You get a community, really what more could there be? What do you say? Come on join me, join the Red “

The two listeners quickly agreed and all three went through the door next to the bar. When the door closed Ragnar saw a cart loaded with barrels. This seemed out of place, then he saw the huge ape pushing who was pushing the cart. Before he could get to investigate further his view was blocked by a green goblin. The goblin walked directly to Chef Bob, who responded very quickly for someone who had appeared completely passed out. Ragnar thought that they might fight. Instead they spoke, too low for him to eavesdrop on, A piece of paper was passed, read, then they turned and went out the door.

Ragnar was going to follow, until someone sat at his table and called his name. Reluctantly he turned, A willowy golden skinned elf sat with a very straight back looking at him expectantly. The elf had red hair but it was the eyes. The eyes were so intense with very black pupils. Those black dots seemed to burn into Ragnar.

The elf who’s name was MoProbs spoke, “What do you know about tokening?”

“Not much, well really nothing, I have just heard the word a few times.”

“You got a Token when you reached level 2, remember you were told to protect it?” Ragnar nodded. “Well they weren’t joking. If someone takes your Token, your character is deleted.”

“Deleted?! What do you mean?”

“Gone, erased, no more.” Those black pupils caught his eyes, “Ragnar you would be no more.”

“Why would anyone do that, it just seems mean?”

“People are cruel, You should never underestimate humanity's ability to be mean for no good reason, even in this world. I do think there’s more to it, but so far that’s only based on rumor. The real problem is no one knows anything. The people doing the tokening seem to be in hiding. That's why I wanted to talk to you.”

“I don’t get it, what do you mean?”

“You once hired out as a bodyguard.”

“How did you know? Wait, MoMony?”

“MoMony got tokened, he is no more.”

“I guess I’m not much of a bodyguard.”

“It wasn't your fault. MoMony got cocky, and he was upset about that box you found. Really not your fault. The whole experience gave me an idea, a business proposal if you will.”

“MoMony, I see it now. Ok let’s hear this proposal of yours.”

MoProbs laughed, “the idea is simple, I want you to become a bounty hunter.”

Ragnar raised his eyebrows.

“A really awesome bounty hunter. You will get commissions from people who have been tokened, you will help them get revenge. You token the ‘tokener.’ I’m going to get stronger and be a bounty hunter too. Until then I’ll help you in the hunting. Are you in?”

“What will you do if I say no?”

“I guess I would try and get stranger then start the business without you, It would be much easier with a strong figurehead. Why would you say no? Do you have something better to do?” He gestured with disdain to the red soldiers hanging around the room. “Do you want to join these mopes. Look I even have a name for us.”

“What is the name?” Ragnar was interested, there really was no reason to not do it.

“Uh, The Band of the Golden Hand.” MoProbs looked down at his hands, “of course if you don’t like it, we can use something else.”

“No it’s a good name. I’ll do it.”

MoProbs head snapped up, his eyes shining. “Really?! you’ll do it?”

Ragnar smiled and put his hand out.