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“Dude, Mos Eisley has nothing on the Copper Crown,” Kirby told Glenn and Stephi. The two were sitting on her bed when he’d entered the room just ahead of Ron and Derek.
“I believe we have discovered a hive containing more scum and villainy,” Ron added, a goofy grin crossing his face.
With nothing better to do that evening, Ron, Derek and Kirby went to the Copper Crown in search of information. Glenn and Stephi got to hang out at the Glade House, and Glenn decided to stay in the room. People were starting to ask about Marigold and he didn’t want to lie. The cover story was that she’d left on a caravan to meet an elven friend in Shorn Spearhead.
Derek groaned and shut the door behind him. “No nerd-festing.”
“Dude,” Kirby said, plopping down on Stephi’s bunk. That placed Stephi between him and Glenn. “You don’t like Star Wars?”
“Star Wars is okay,” Derek said. “Kylo Ren’s a pathetic villain.” He slapped Ron on the back before plopping down on his bunk across from Kirby. “You do realize Lysine is a complete Star Trek geek.”
Ron took a seat next to Derek and stretched his legs out. “That is an accurate statement,” he said. “I find structural aspects of the Star Trek Universe far more interesting in comparison to the Star Wars Universe.”
Glenn watched every episode of the Next Generation when it’d been available on Netflix, and scattered episodes from all the other Star Trek series, and all the old movies that featured the Next Generation crew. Star Wars, he’d seen all the movies to date, either on Blu-ray or at the theater, but wasn’t well versed in their contents or “lore.”
Stephi spoke up, asking Ron, “You don’t find Princess Leia or Rey interesting?”
An hour-long discussion ensued. For a short time Glenn forgot that he was a gnome trapped on an aberrant concurrent world. It appeared the same for everyone else. When the discussion stalled while discussing why Spock was a better sidekick—Ron referred to sidekicks as “right-hand men”—than Chewbacca. Everyone fell silent, looking from each other, to the room around them.
Ron broke the silence. He explained how Spock’s death saving the crew paralleled Kim dying while saving the party. Everyone realized Spock got a second lease on life. Kim didn’t.
It was depressing.
After an awkward thirty seconds of silence, Derek released an extra-loud sigh. Fumbling, he pulled a small bundle from a sack. He reached across the span between the beds and proffered something wrapped in a white cloth to Stephi.
“It ain’t exactly Rey’s lightsaber.”
Stephi took the gift and quickly unwrapped it to find a rapier and scabbard scaled down to her size.
“It’s bronze,” Derek said, “except the Silversmith, Timz Simman, insisted on coating the blade with some sort of hardened silver.”
Stephi flew over and hugged Derek’s arm. She stretched up and planted a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you, Kalgore.”
Derek grinned wide, his missing tooth making him look a little goofy. He flicked his left hand, pointing at Ron with his thumb. “It was his idea. I just did the leg work. I also commissioned him to make a dagger with silver in the blade. Might come in handy dealing with leprechauns or something.”
Sometimes Derek surprised Glenn. Most of the time he was a major jerk. But, after his Bimbo Barbie crack, he’d been pretty decent.
Stephi shot over to Ron. She hugged and kissed him as well. Her wings’ shimmering couldn’t hold a candle to her broad smile.
“Marigold,” Ron said, “I suggest that tomorrow, at the earliest opportunity, you commence practice with it. Wielding a rapier in flight may prove challenging.”
Then she frowned and her wings slowed in their flapping. “What good will it be? It’s so small.” Her shoulders sagged. “I’m so small.”
“Come on, Marigold,” Kirby said. “It’ll do one to two points of damage per hit. Everything adds up in a fight.”
“Gurk is correct,” Ron said. “Additionally, do not discount the fact that you retain the ability to cast Mystic Missile and Slumber Spells, in addition to your fairy-based magical abilities.”
Derek made mock rapier thrusts and cuts with his big hand. “Musketeer Mariposa Barbie.”
“I got it,” Stephi said, failing to suppress a smile.
Kirby patted Glenn on the shoulder. “Me and Jax’ll make you a practice dummy.”
Derek glared at Kirby. “It better not look like me.”
Ron was the first to laugh, followed by Kirby, then Stephi. Glenn was the last to catch Derek’s self-deprecating joke.
When everyone stopped laughing Ron broke the returning awkward silence. “We were unable to ascertain if the dwarf at the Copper Crown was Benxcob.”
“If anyone knew,” Kirby said, “they weren’t sharing. It’s not exactly a sharing, Kum Ba Yah sort of place.”
“The big guy, though,” Derek said, “is named Rex. A lot of people know him. A warrior-type who henched for a party of adventurers for a few years.”
“Henched?” Stephi asked.
“Was their henchman,” Kirby said. “Like Blizz is for us, except instead of handling the animals, he was more like Jurome. Fought alongside the party.”
Glenn hadn’t thought of the man-at-arms in a while. He’d died helping the party defeat some mercenaries trying to kill White Birch, the daughter of an elven baronet they’d rescued.
It reminded Glenn, once again, how dangerous the Monsters, Maces and Magic world was, and that taking the gold coin away from Benxcob would probably end in violence.
“The hour is late,” Ron said. “It would behoove us to secure as much sleep as possible. None of us knows what the morrow might bring.”
“In other words,” Kirby said, “Dad Lysine’s saying, ‘Go to bed because we all got to get up early, work all day, and ain’t nobody getting a nap.’”