The blacksmith pointed at the first coin, and named it, some harsh guttural word and Joe quickly took a stick and wrote the word beneath the first coin. The blacksmith blinked in surprise and looked up at him. He seemed confused, but said nothing of Joe’s strange practice. The blacksmith pointed at each one and named them in turn until the last. There were a total of sixteen denominations of coins. That seems a lot? That’s a lot, right? Really? That must be a lot! It’s gotta be!
Joe’s attention quickly snapped back to the blacksmith as he pointed at the first coin, then stopped with some suspense, listening intently. The blacksmith stopped and quickly grabbed the silver and gold coins and shoved them back into his pocket before drawing two more circles to replace the lost coins. He shrugged again then pointed once again at the first coin, then at the second coin. He held up his hands and counted out ten fingers. Joe nodded and the blacksmith then flashed his ten fingers ten times.
“Right, one hundred. So a hundred of these triangle coins makes one of these triangle-with-one-hole coins?”
Joe pantomimed his response back but the blacksmith was already shaking his head no as Joe looked back up at the blacksmith. The blacksmith pointed at the first triangle coin again, flashing a hundred fingers, then seeming to encompass the hundred his hands had displayed with a large circle drawn with the index finger of his right hand and pointed it to the pinky of his left hand.
“Riiiight… ok.. So your pinky is now a hundred.”
The blacksmith said nothing and flashed out another hundred, then circled it and pointed to the ring finger on his left hand. He repeated the action again, then pointed to his middle finger. He repeated again and pointed it to his index finger of his left hand. He continued, but now shrunk the forming of one hundred with a quick flash before he indicated it equaled a finger. When each finger represented a hundred, he held up all ten and pointed to the next coin: the triangle-with-a-hole coin.
“Are you serious? The triangle-with-a-hole represents a thousand triangle coins? Really?”
Joe interrupted the blacksmith and quickly took up his scrap of metal and began scratching in the ground. He started off drawing circles, then decided the blacksmith might confuse that with the coins, so he changed to just drawing stick lines. Drawing ten lines, he combined them into a bundle of stick things, then drew ten bundles and combined them into an X. Then he drew ten X’s and combined them into square, then stopped when he saw the square shaped coin, erased it, and replaced it with a star. Then he pointed to the triangle coin, then the star, then the triangle-with-a-hole coin. The blacksmith looked at the drawing for a bit, face furrowed in confusing for a bit as he tried to understand. The confusion only lasted for a few moments before he beamed a huge smile and responded with positive affirmation. He nodded his head, pointing at the triangle coin, then the star, then the triangle-with-a-hole coin, then looked at Joe to see if he understood.
Joe offered a thumbs up and nodded in agreement. The blacksmith smiled again then pointed at the triangle-with-a-hole coin, then at the star, and then at the square coin: the next one in line.
“So, the kuathorlaniar… coin… you know what? Screw that name. It’s going to be called triangle hole coin, or triangle hole for short! Ha! So… right. The triangle hole coin is worth a thousand square coins. Seems a bit much, but I get it,” Joe replied with laughing acknowledgment.
The blacksmith nodded back, a smile on his face as he continued the demonstration. By the end, Joe had learned that each coin was worth a thousand of the previous coin, and the order went triangle, triangle hole, square, square hole, square two holes, square four holes, circle square hole, silver circle, gold circle, circle hole, circle two holes, hex, hex one hole, hex two holes, hex four holes, and finally octagon eight holes. Once Joe understood, he pointed to the copper coin, which was the square hole coin, and then pointed at the spoon then held up four fingers while pointing to the square hole coin. The blacksmith smiled and nodded eagerly.
“So, we got that. Giant spoon spear of slime death is four copper square hole coins,” Joe smiled and offered a thumbs up, “So then what’s this thing worth?” Joe asked while pointing at the slime gem then down at the coins. The blacksmiths smile faded before he nodded then pointed at the square four hole coin, then pointed at the X symbol he had drawn representing one hundred, then counted out four fingers, then a shake of his hand and head, then counted out six, then wiggled the seventh finger up and down.
“OK. So four to six or seven hundred square four holes. Got it… I can see how that would be a bit overpriced. I’m trying to pay for a four square hole coin product by giving him about five or six hundred million square hole coins. That’s gotta be .. unfun.”
Joe sighed and looked around, then shrugged and pointed at the gem, trying to show that was all he had.
“Sorry man, it’s all I can offer.”
The blacksmith looked around, then back down at the gem. Joe quickly offered it forward saying that it was OK. He then looked at spear, swords, dagger, and shield, then pointed at then mimed sharpening the spear and generally cleaning his weapons. The blacksmith narrowed his eyes for a few moments then began to smile and nod his head in agreement. Joe smiled then looked at the coins below, then back to the blacksmith. Might as well see if I can get some local currency? Joe then pointed at the triangle and triangle hole coins then mimed putting it in his hand. He asked for a couple hundred triangle coins, a hundred triangle hole coins, and ten square coins. The blacksmith nodded eagerly, and then began digging through his coin pouch. He only took out about a hundred fifty triangle coins and thirty triangle hole coins, but took out fifteen square four hole coins to make up the difference. Although… that’s still not near enough, but… eh… I got plenty slime cores… I need money. Joe smiled and held up both hands in a thumbs up while nodding and smiling happily at the blacksmith. He gave the gem to the blacksmith and then he mimed sleeping then pointing to the smithy and then the spoon.
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
The blacksmith shook his head, responding by holding up two fingers. Right. It’ll be ready in two days. That’ll be fine. Joe smiled and nodded OK before waving goodbye and heading to the stream but then returned to the blacksmith. He seems nice enough, I’ll see if I can get some advice about a night’s stay at the inn. Joe pointed to his coins, then pointed towards the inn. He mimed eating while holding up three fingers, then mimed sleeping, then pointed at his new coinage in his hands.
The blacksmith smiled picked up a triangle and then counted out eight hundred on the markings Joe had made, then wobbled his hands a bit before dropping his hand down low to the ground. He then picked up a triangle hole, pointed out ten on Joe’s markings before wobbling his hand, then raising it high above his head. Joe squinted his eyes a bit in consideration as he tried to understand the man’s meaning. It took several moments before recognition flashed.
“So, if I’m guessing right, a low quality inn will give you three meals and a room for eight hundred triangles per night and a high quality inn is ten triangle holes a night. Or… maybe? It’s a low quality room vs a high quality room? Uh… how am I going to ask about the room.. Bah. I’ve got it close enough for the moment.”
Joe thanked the blacksmith once again, and returned to his grand quest to clean himself. Once he reached the stream, he turned up stream and continued until he was at where the lake emptied into the stream. There he stripped his weaponry and shirt off, before checking under his pants and found that he was wearing a boxer like briefs and decided to take off his pants as well. The sun had long set by this time after his rather lengthy detour at the blacksmith and he figured the shorts offered enough decency. He began cleaning his weaponry thoroughly before beginning to wash off his body and legs by splashing the water on him and rubbing vigorously with his hands. I need to buy some soap, huh? He then wet his hands again and shoved them into his boxers and rubbed around in there sharply as well, but not too long. No need to start strange rumors! He then air dried, spurring it along by trying to jump and wave his arms and legs around to air dry them a bit quicker. Well, another thing I’m going to need. A towel. Maybe Douglas Adams was right. Towels really are vitally important! Joe sighed forlornly, his smiling slipping after the moment of humor had passed.
“Man, I’m really going to miss good entertainment!”
He was dry in another ten or so minutes and he began dressing again. When he got to the harness, the thought for a few seconds before he decided to just sling it over his shoulder and head back to the inn. He made it back and weaved his way through the now empty dining room and waved at the innkeeper on the way by. Stumping up the stairs as quietly as he could, he slipped into his room, out of his clothes, and into the bed quite quickly. He squirmed a bit on the very hard and firm bed, not finding it the most pleasant of sleeping surfaces, but darkness and the lack of entertainment or the internet left him few options. Sitting on a log for long hours didn't help either. Despite the poor bed, he was asleep almost as soon as his head slid across the pillow.
* * *
Joe woke early the next morning, emptying his satchel of all the slime gems he had collected. He placed them in a small pocket in his backpack and headed down for a breakfast. He finished his morning preparations and was quickly away.
Joe stumped down the road as frustration welled within him over the effort to try to get his stats up to the level of where he was currently at. If his other stats took a hit, even to half, Joe figured he would be ok if he could find a simpler or easier monster to fight. The one that would be terrifying and overwhelming would be his intelligence. He wasn’t sure how it would affect him, seeing as how most of the people here seemed well off enough, if only a bit slow in their responses. If the intelligence stat only affected the speed of their thought, then it might be OK, but if it was more in line with Earths IQ, things would get very, very dicey if he hit an IQ below the 60s or 70s. But even if it was only the speed of his thought, then the reaction time alone would kill him. A several second delay would kill him if he had to fight the slimes like that.
He came to the portion in the road where he had fought the slimes before, his stake embedded in the ground where he had left it. He retrieved it and noticed that there was significant etching on it. He retrieved his spear and checked it carefully, but found nothing on it. He seemed to have cleaned it well enough the night before. Hmm… I think I’ll see if I can get something funky made for me back in the village. I don’t want to ruin the spear. But... I’ll use it for today. Got nothing else.
He pulled out another half a dozen twigs from off the tree branches and furred their ends before sticking them in his harness across his chest. Stake and spear in hand, both bucking against being used, he stiffened his grip and walked further down the road before he found another slime. Engaging and killing it quickly, he looked around for another, but didn’t find any in the direction he had gone yesterday. Looking back around, he found one coming out of the forest on the other side of the road, in the opposite direction from yesterday. He dropped the current gem he had into his small waist satchel hah… it’s a fanny bag! Why am I wearing a fanny bag… and quickly wiped off the slime. There was no change to his tactics, only slightly smoother and more practiced.
As yesterday, he found a ragged trail of slimes to follow in the woods, and he cleared them out quickly and with prejudice while marking trees to guide his way. Several hours passed and right around noon he felt that strange status update similar to the one he had had last night right as he was ending his day of killing. Cocking his head, he opened his status to check what it was. Can’t be level 3. Took me a whole day yesterday!
<continued - 2/3>