“Let’s go, folks. Time to finish up with the tavern so everything can be opened up,” I said as we headed for the last door we hadn't tried. The TAVERN door.

  At least it didn’t have those old west double swinging doors, just an ordinary heavy wood castle-style door with black iron rivets like the other outside doors. It vanished when we touched it, leaving the MANA blue field the same as the others.

  Inside, everything was wood, darkened by time, smoke, and spilled drinks. It smelled of woodsmoke, roasting meat, and fresh bread hiding under the sharper tang of old beer. I could almost taste the hops in the air, like stepping into a fantasy tavern that had somehow become real. It was the classic adventurer’s tavern if I’d ever read one, and I’ve read dozens or more over the years.

  To our left, on the far wall, a long bar stretched across most of it. There were two ORCs behind the bar. One wiped a mug with a rag, his green muscles shifting under a stained apron.

  Near the middle of the left wall was a low stage next to a broad fireplace stacked with unlit logs.

  The stage looked big enough for a small band. Four to six people at the most, I guessed. It’s front lined with a worn wooden step. Three rows of sturdy tables and benches filled most of the room. It looked like each side of a table could hold four to five people. More if they were small, or less if one was Bhaarrt or Gar-Kosh.

  On the far wall, a massive fireplace burned with the same MANA blue flames we’d seen elsewhere in the STORE, licking at a log that looked like it was once half a tall tree. The heat pulsed out, warm and oddly comforting, fighting back the lingering chill of the early May morning.

  “I need to remember when I write this up to convert to metric measurements. That’s what’s being mostly used online.” I thought, a bit annoyed by the need for conversion.

  To the left side of the hearth, a kettle hung on a black iron crane, bubbling with something that smelled like stew and spices, mainly pepper. It cut through the stale beer smell. Swinging doors on either side of the fireplace led into what I think had to be a kitchen.

  Between the kitchen and the bar, a heavy dark green Orc sat behind a small table under a ROOMS sign, a mini pirate chest in front of him, a one-handed ax on his right and a mace on his left, like a bouncer from a low-budget fantasy flick.

  Handwritten parchment signs showing what was available were nailed to the walls, their edges curled. One next to the bar listed drink prices in sloppy ink, with pictures of mugs foaming over and crossed axes under a line that read:

  Water - 2 Shields/Mug

  Clean Water - 4 Shields/Mug

  Beer - 10 Shields/Mug

  Better Beer - 15 Shields/Mug

  Good Beer - 25 Shields/Mug

  Wine - 35 Shields/Mug

  Better Wine - 50 Shields/Mug

  Good Wine - 1 Moon/Mug

  Da Good Stuff - 2 Moons/Mug

  Milk? Youze gets axed to leave

  The sign had pictures of the number of coins, copper shields, or silver moons, and a wooden tankard after each line. There were crossed double-bladed ax symbols at both ends of the milk line.

  Moving closer to the far side or kitchen wall, I saw two matching scrolls nailed to the wood listing food prices. One on each side of the fireplace.

  It started with a picture of a bowl with what might be a wooden spoon handle sticking out of it. Next to it was a wooden platter with things vaguely resembling food on it and a knife stuck in the middle of the meat or roast bird. It sort of looked like a Thanksgiving turkey.

  Soup 20 Shields/bowl

  Soup With Meat 30 Shields/bowl

  Meat 30 shields

  Meat With Bread 50 Shields

  Meat With Ground Stuff and Bread 75 Shields

  Bird 25 Shields

  Bird With Bread 40 Shields

  Bird With Ground Stuff and Bread 60 Shields

  It also had pictures of the appropriate coins after the number, plus a platter after each line.

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  The last sign was above and behind the seated Orc on our far left.

  It had a picture of a rectangle with two rows of five smaller rectangles in it, followed by a picture of a bed.

  Floor

  Shared Floor Bring Own Stuff 10 Shields/night - 50 Shields/Week

  Shared Floor With Mat 12 Shields/night - 60 Shields/Week

  Shared Floor With Bed 20 Shields/night - 1 Moon/Week

  Rooms

  1 Bed 50 Shields/night - 3 Moons/Week

  1 Bed w/bedding 75 Shields/night - 5 Moons/Week

  2 Beds 75 Shields/night - 5 Moons/Week

  2 beds w/bedding 1 Moon/night - 6 Moons/Week

  Chamber pot 5 Shields/night - 25 Shields/week

  Empty full Chamber pot - 2 Shields

  Once more, there was a picture of coins and hash marks. I thought that meant one night after the first single mark and seven marks probably meant a week. They used four slightly slanted and one opposite direction line diagonally crossing them to show the number five. The line for the chamber pot pictured a round, light brown pot with a lid. That also told me what the rooms didn’t have.

  It looked like someone’s idea of a fantasy tavern, that was meant to hold at least 50 people, maybe a few more. I wasn’t sure why there were rooms. Eventually, we should find out what they do, if anything.

  It all felt too real, too deliberate. Probably the SYSTEM’s way of normalizing this world while draining every coin we made.

  The strangest thing was the window on the outside wall. It didn’t look out into the parking lot.

  It had four leaded glass sections, diamond panes, clearer than they should have been. Through it I saw a medieval street bustled with people and creatures. It looked late medieval, mixed with early Tudor.

  I saw goblins driving wagons pulled by shaggy yaks. Humans, some in cloaks, some with weapons, a few had both. One with a black cloak with a hood concealing half his face. A dwarf led a mule stacked with barrels. Cobblestone streets and half-timbered buildings stretched into the distance. It was like looking through a portal into a living fantasy painting.

  Bhaarrt interrupted my staring. “Grab a table. I’m buyin’ the first round. Didn’t spend anything in the STORE, and I sold enough swords and junk, so I’ve got plenty.”

  We found a table near the bar. Bhaarrt and Ingrid sat across from me. Blaze then Shadow sat on my right, so my sword hung down on my left at the open end of the bench.

  A female Orc waitress approached, wearing a rough brown dress and a darker leather apron, her tusks visible when she grinned. “What kin I do ye for, strangers?”

  “Beer all around. A Good Beer. I’m buyin’!” Bhaarrt announced, smacking a hand on the table.

  “Gotcha. A good one all around. That’ll be a Moon twenty-five,” she said, holding out her hand.

  Bhaarrt slapped two Moons into her palm. She nodded, turned, and headed to the bar.

  We watched as the ORCs filled tankards from barrels jutting out of the wall, foam dripping down the sides. When the waitress returned, she balanced all five tankards easily, setting them in front of us before dropping Bhaarrt’s change in front of him.

  Nudging Blaze, I asked, “Hey, you’ve got your FBI gear on. Should you be drinking on duty?” I asked her, grinning.

  She took a sip first, licking foam from her upper lip. “Yep. I’m calling it part of my undercover investigation of the anomaly in the Game. Matt agreed. Also testing whether it’s safe for humans to consume Game food and drink.” Another sip. “So far, so good. It has quite a head on it, but tastes like a light ale, actually. My favorite beer.”

  Shadow raised hers. “Tastes like that beer I had at Andrew’s. Good stuff.”

  Bhaarrt shook his head. “Nah, it’s a good dark stout. Lots of body and hops.”

  While I was taking my first sip, Ingrid took a slow drink, her eyes closing briefly. “Reminds me of a homebrew I had at a Faire once. Light, but good.”

  “It’s a Good Beer alright,” I said. “Tastes like what each of us thinks a good beer tastes like. Mine’s Black Squire Dark, same as at Sir Andrew’s.” I wondered aloud, “I wonder if it will taste like this when Andy tries it?”

  I raised my tankard. “Here’s to the magic of the Game.”

  They all clinked theirs against mine, and we drank together under the flicker of blue flame and the scent of woodsmoke.

  ***

  After finishing our beers, we stepped back outside. We met Chief Jackson and Matt Bledsoe in the parking lot.

  “Chief, we all agree the place is safe, or as safe as it’s going to get unless someone does something stupid. We didn’t try the food, but it’s probably safe too,” I told him.

  Blaze added, “Think of the STORE like an embassy. Their rules apply in there. I wouldn’t want to be around if someone tries to collect taxes inside.” Chief Brown nodded grimly. “Also, the researchers need to look out that tavern window.”

  Matt blinked. “What window? It’s a blank wall.”

  Blaze crossed her arms. “Well, the tavern has one from the inside. I wouldn’t try breaking it. If it shatters, whoever goes through might not come back. I’ll file a report and copy you.”

  “I’ll make sure you and Eddington get copies,” Matt told Chief Jackson. “I haven’t known Hanna long, but I’ve read all the reports she’s filed from here since this happened and a few before that. They’re clear and detailed.”

  Matt glanced at Blaze, then the rest of us. “But this window that isn’t there? I’ve got to see this myself.”

  Blaze tilted her head. “Matt. How much Game money do you have?”

  He looked blank for a moment. “Just the one copper from my one time fighting. Why?”

  “You can’t afford anything with that. Not even bad Water. Forget about beer. It comes in Beer, Better Beer, and Good Beer. The Good Beer’s worth every copper. We were afraid to try the rest.”

  Matt’s eyes narrowed, then he nodded, catching on as we all laughed. “I get the message. It looks like I have to go back into fieldwork again.”

  “You can come with us,” Bhaarrt said, clapping him on the shoulder. “We’ll take good care of you. You’ll earn your coin.”

  “Thank you. If you’re free this afternoon, I’ll make time,” Matt said.

  Blaze added, “If you don’t want to wear your vest, we’ve got gear you can wear so Ingrid doesn’t have to heal you as much. I’ve got a leather poncho and a sword in my INVENTORY.”

  “I can enchant them now,” I said, raising a hand.

  Blaze nodded and pulled the items out, holding them up one by one. I laid a +1 DEFENSE on the armor, a +1 DAMAGE on the sword.

  “I’m not sure if it will add to the damage your claws do, but we’ll find out.” I warned him.

  He thanks me and I told him, “Matt, put those in your INVENTORY until you need them,” I said. “They look silly, but it’s what all the DPS influencers are wearing these days.”

  Everyone around us, except for Shadow, laughed at that line.

  “Nope,” Shadow said, lifting her jacket to show a bright silvery glint of mail. “Andrew gave me his son’s shirt. I got better than that monster junk, ‘cept for the cap. I usin’ that,” She tapped her head wrap.

  “Want them enchanted too?” I asked.

  “Damn right I do.”

  She held out her jacket, and I touched the mail, adding +2 DEFENSE. Her cap got the same treatment after she pulled up an area of her head wrap to reveal the leather.

  “Anyone else want something enchanted before I start charging?” I asked, half-joking. We moved to the Ley Lines so I could refill my MANA, the energy crackling in the air as I drew it in until I felt the energy deep in my body. It took about half an hour to finish enchanting for everyone around including some watchers who wanted it too.

  Matt took Blaze to check on her local office setup, introduce her to the new agents learning the Game. Ingrid, Bhaarrt, and Shadow headed off to grind spawns for more coin.

  I did the same, alone. I needed to know if I could still take down today’s higher-level spawns solo. And I needed more coin for what the STORE probably had waiting.

  Seamus Kennedy - The Beer Song

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