Chapter 74 King's Landing
Before closing the points mall, Ian remembered his previous attempt to access the second-level shop had failed because his total points were too low. Curious, he tried again.
This time, a preview of the new inventory loaded successfully.
[Second-Level Mall]
Medium Purse of Gold (100 Gold Dragons): 5 Points
Large Purse of Gold (500 Gold Dragons): 10 Points
"What the hell?" Ian muttered, shocked. "The first-level mall only gives you twenty gold dragons for five points." The hundred dragons weren't a fortune to him anymore, but the stark price difference was baffling.
"The more advanced the system mall, the greater the currency discount," Annie's voice explained in his mind.
"That's good news," Ian nodded. A price of ten points for five hundred gold dragons was still too steep for his liking, but what about the third-level mall? Or the fourth? If ten points could eventually buy five thousand gold dragons, he might actually consider purchasing currency from the shop.
His eyes scanned the rest of the items.
One Self-Selected A-Level NPC (local to your area): 10 Points
Goldenheart Double-Recurve Longbow (with quiver): 5 Points (Exceeds backpack capacity, purchase unavailable)
Blessing of the Supreme Shepherd: 20 Points
(An esoteric potion created by the high priests of the Great Shepherd's temple. Imbued with powerful life force, it can rapidly heal a mortal wound. Single-use only.)
"The Supreme Shepherd?" Ian covered his face with his hand. "Isn't that the god of a bunch of quacks?"
He had a sudden vision of using the potion and dropping dead on the spot.
He remembered the story from the books. After King Robert heard Daenerys was pregnant, he'd sent a wine merchant to assassinate her in Vaes Dothrak. The attempt failed, thanks to Jorah Mormont, but it enraged Khal Drogo, who finally committed to conquering Westeros. To fund the invasion, he led his khalasar to raid the lands of the Lhazareen, the Lamb Men.
When Drogo was wounded in a fight, Daenerys had asked Mirri Maz Duur, a Lhazareen godswife she had just "rescued," to heal him.
Mirri had killed him instead.
Then again, Ian mused, Mirri's goal was always revenge for her ravaged city. It's not fair to blame her treachery on the Supreme Shepherd's magic.
So, what was this potion? A trap laid for unsuspecting players?
If the description was accurate, it was a mythical item—a second life in a bottle. But if it was some kind of twisted Easter egg, born from a developer's malicious sense of humor, then it was the most dangerous trap in the game.
He decided against buying anything for now and tried to open the third-level mall.
Two prompt boxes appeared.
[Third-level mall access denied. Prerequisite: Unlock second-level mall and possess 100+ points.]
[Second-level mall unlock conditions: Spend 10+ points in the first-level mall OR pay 10 points directly.]
"Right," Ian sighed, rubbing his temples. "I almost forgot the system is designed to make it nearly impossible to get anything useful from it."
To open the second-level mall, he had to waste ten points in the first. Did that mean he'd have to waste a hundred points in the second-level mall to open the third? Given the abysmal cost-to-benefit ratio of the items, it was highway robbery.
Exiting the system interface, Ian found a spot under a large tree and settled in for the night. For the first time, he truly felt like a hedge knight, sleeping under the stars with nothing but a cloak for a blanket. Summer still lingered, thankfully. He couldn't imagine trying to sleep outdoors in the dead of winter.
With his plans changed, Ian returned to the Crossroads Inn. He formally canceled his contract for the hunting mission and hired two small mercenary companies that frequented the inn: Grantham's "Sellsword Fives" and Denzel's "Dornishmen."
His party now significantly larger, he began the journey to King's Landing. Halfway there, he sent Denzel, his new de facto squire, ahead to Duskendale. Denzel would take over as Ser Daeron Grafson's attendant, freeing up Rohr to return to Ian's side.
They traveled at a steady pace, and after six days on the Kingsroad, they saw the capital rising before them. On the evening of the seventh day, they passed through the Gate of the Gods and entered the heart of the Seven Kingdoms.
This land, once nothing more than a patch of forest overlooking the Blackwater Rush, had its fate rewritten three hundred years ago when Aegon the Conqueror made landfall. He built his first crude fort of earth and timber on the highest of the three hills, Aegon's High Hill. After uniting the Seven Kingdoms, he commanded that his capital be built here, naming it King's Landing.
Over the centuries, his descendants had expanded the city into the sprawling, chaotic metropolis Ian now saw.
After entering the gates, they rode through a bustling cityscape, a jumble of noble manors, brick warehouses, timber-framed inns, market stalls, taverns, graveyards, and brothels. They navigated wide boulevards and crowded commercial squares, soon passing Cobbler's Square.
Ahead, on Visenya's Hill, Ian saw the marble walls and seven crystal towers of the Great Sept of Baelor. On the opposite hill, Rhaenys's Hill, stood the colossal, collapsed dome of the Dragonpit's remains.
He knew Flea Bottom lay east of their position, down the Street of the Sisters, but he had no intention of going there directly. He needed to prepare first. A young nobleman and a knight in polished armor wandering the slums would be an open invitation for trouble, and it would be an insult to the intelligence of any other players in the city.
He ordered Grantham to take the bulk of their men and find lodging at a tavern on River Row. Then, with only Case, Rohr, and a handful of his most trusted men, Ian turned west and headed for the Street of Steel, where most of the city's blacksmiths kept their forges.
The man he sought had a shop at the very top of the hill. His name was Tobho Mott, and by his own account, he was the finest smith in King's Landing—perhaps in all of Westeros.
Ian's purpose was specific: he needed to commission a set of armor that would serve as a disguise. He wanted a coat of plates.
The coat of plates was a type of torso armor made from metal plates riveted to the inside of a fabric or leather garment. The name was something of a misnomer; its construction was more akin to brigandine than the full plate armor its name suggested.
His choice was based on two key factors.
First, its appearance was deceiving. Unlike the sculpted, rigid form of plate armor, a coat of plates could be tailored into a more common, wasp-waisted style. With the metal plates hidden inside the cloth, an opponent would have no way to judge its quality. They would assume it was the cheap, standard-issue armor of a common sellsword.
Second, its defense was more than adequate. A high-quality coat of plates offered protection nearly on par with full plate, at least against the kind of threats he expected to face. And at this early stage, the strength of other players was, in his estimation, "not that strong."
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