Hota walked around the luxurious cabin. She had doubted her friends' taste when they first showed up, but it was more like a railroad car than a wagon inside. She'd been expecting something like a gypsy's wagon, perhaps on steroids.
Instead, the interior of the wagon was broken into six large seats in sets of two to either side. There was a capacious aisle to walk down between them and the back of the wagon contained a discreet pair of restrooms, separated by sex. There was even a bathing chamber at the very back, though thankfully empty. She had been startled by the spacious areas until she remembered that not everyone played elf or human. There were some races that needed more space to maneuver. It also explained the wide seats. She could sit there side by side with at least one friend and probably two before lunch.
"Okay, you're forgiven—slightly," she said as she descended from the wagon and stood before Virtuous Moon and Mockingbird.
Mockingbird gave a relieved sigh before beaming at her.
"I'm trying to turn over a new leaf here," she solemnly said, smile still in place. "I know I act a bit silly at times."
"A bit?" Virtuous Moon gave her an incredulous gaze even as he gave his head a tiny shake. "You? The girl who challenged an entire guild to a duel because someone insulted your armor?"
"It was good armor!" Mockingbird retorted. "Besides, it's not like I lost…"
"You? Who camp killed the girl who dared to take your username for an entire week, and then camp killed her friends as well when they tried to help?" Virtuous Moon looked as though his eyebrows wanted to crawl into his hairline.
"She shouldn't have stolen my name. Everyone knows me!" Mockingbird flicked the ends of a ponytail over her shoulder.
Hota walked away from the incipient argument, once again rubbing her forehead. She still had to inspect the other wagons, but if they were as impressive as this one, then they would only have to worry about money for the trip.
She had been relieved to note that instead of twelve cargo wagons as she'd thought, half of them were for caravan purposes instead. There was a dining wagon, a kitchen / office wagon, and four wagons that held varying amounts of bedding options; if they got enough passengers to fill the seats, they now had sleeping quarters for them as well.
It was good that they would be able to offer sleeping accommodations for their passengers; most of the other caravans she'd investigated hadn't had that option.
She'd thought it was shortsighted of them, but the industry was literally just days old, if not weeks. Most of the successful caravans had only done six or seven runs and hadn't worked out most of their kinks. Even the bandits had been slow to attack; she hadn't heard of one instance where a caravan had been wiped out.
Hota thought that perhaps the NPC caravans had been providing unknowing cover. The bandits equated caravans with them, and the NPC caravans were a hard nut to crack in the current player areas. After all, most players hadn't hit the 80s while the NPC caravan guards were mostly in the 300s. She still didn't think it would last much longer; bandits weren't dumb, after all.
The other six wagons were simply for hauling goods. One of them even had a secure area for more expensive items.
She looked up at a hesitant knock on the doorframe of their caravan slot. A girl stood there, a simple sack at her feet. Hota concentrated a bit. The name 'Cora' popped into view along with 'Lvl 9' and no title. That gave her pause. Even she who'd just started concentrating on the game was level 20, and her partners were high in the 40s and 50s. Earning experience wasn't that hard.
"I heard you're going to Farthenham Hills?" Cora asked.
"That is the plan," Hota agreed. She mustered up a smile and stuck out a hand. "HottoTrot21, but you can call me Hota."
"Nice to meet you, Hota. My name's Cora, but you probably already knew that," Cora said with an answering smile. "I need to go to Farthenham Hills, and a caravan would be easier than walking."
"Oh, got a quest?" Hota said.
She turned towards her desk and scooped up the notebook. Virtuous Moon had already gone to the caravanserai offices and they'd been more than happy to supply suggested prices for a trip to Farthenham Hills. They were so high that it would easy to cover the 'vig' as Mockingbird had said with just half the wagons filled. Even then, Virtuous Moon said that the caravanserai said that this was just for a first-time trip and that further loops should have a higher price tag once established.
She'd wondered at that until Mockingbird had shown her where Farthenham Hills was on the map. Then the name made sense. She wasn't sure anyone had actually gone there in the player base before. It was pretty far out towards the edge of civilization. Still, there were those who thought exploration was the greatest thing since sliced bread; Hota wasn't one of them, despite being in charge of the caravan.
"These are our maiden prices. After this trip, it's going to increase depending on how it goes." Hota passed the notebook to Cora and turned back to the desk, searching for the manifest.
As usual, Mockingbird had disappeared at the first hint of actual work. She could only hope her friend was searching out merchants who needed something shipped to somewhere on the way to Farthenham Hills but had missed the regular caravans.
There was a reason Hota had registered the caravan as leaving a week after the usual ones. Then again, even those weren't going as far out as hers was. She was scrambling to get everything in place before her vacation was up. Once she went back to work, she'd only be able to play a few hours a day.
Her capsule only limited the time you could play to a few hours with an hour cooldown period. The game company said it was to prevent burnout. In theory (and some practice), you could play for days on end with the higher end capsules that came with medical monitoring and sanitary facilities, simply napping or checking the internet during those short breaks. Those even had nutrient solutions to reduce the chance of starvation and sanitation facilities to fulfill more mundane needs.
"You should name it," Cora said as Hota scrabbled for a stylus, manifest finally located and in hand.
"Name what?" Hota asked, turning back around to see Cora's amused smile. There was no malice in it, just humor.
"Your caravan. It'll be easier for people to remember it if you have a proper name. It doesn't have to be anything complicated or grand. Doesn't even have to mention Farthenham Hills. Probably better if it doesn't since the usual caravan only goes every six to seven months or so," Cora elaborated. She traded the notebook for the manifest and nodded after a quick glance. "That one is always crowded, I've heard, and you have to book as soon as possible to secure space.
"At least yours have enough space for me and mine," Cora added with a shrug. "The booking is for me, my friend and about four hundred pounds of stone shards and pig iron ingots. The cargo will be delivered tomorrow. Is that okay?"
"More than okay," Hota said with a nod. The manifest thought for a second before providing a price based on weight and item. Clearly, it wasn't going to be Cora paying for it. Most likely the mysterious friend was the one with the money. "That will cost you about three hundred eighty-six gold all in."
"That's fine," Cora said, pulling out four platinum coins. She looked at them for a second before sighing. "Here you go."
"We will be more than happy to secure your cargo tomorrow and the caravan will be departing in three days. See you tomorrow then." Hota took back the manifest and accepted the coins.
She quickly inscribed the paid tickets and cargo onto the manifest and paused. Hota shook her head in minor annoyance when she looked up. The girl was gone, and she'd forgotten the contract.
No matter. Cora could sign it when she showed up tomorrow.
*****
Cora walked to the docks, smiling happily. She hadn't thought that she'd find a decent caravan to take her most of the way back to Wilderven. According to her rough map, Farthenham Hills was the closest bit of civilization to her little ruined town.
She grimaced at the thought. Wilderven wasn't little except when compared to the massive capital cities in the real world. Even she was surprised at all the amenities, admittedly partially destroyed, she'd discovered in her last exploration.
That it had ended with her being chased by carnivorous rabbits was something she preferred to not think about. Blue had put a happy stop to that. It had been a bit freaky to see meat and fur fall from what looked to be an intact corpse before it had roused itself a few minutes later and darted away with a vicious look in its eye.
Cora walked into the shipping depot, checking the status of the ship with her iron and shards. It had been surprisingly easy to buy the shards. She'd just set up a stall outside a beginner's village and offered to buy them.
She'd been nearly drowned in would-be miners and sculptors. They'd been happy to give her shards since the only other way was to simply discard them and possibly get a fine from the guards— village, town, city or wilderness. They patrolled everywhere, keeping the peace, and part of the peace was preventing people from being litterbugs in 'civilized' areas.
Of course, you could always throw them away in the woods, but the woods were populated by aggressive animals and humanoids.
One miner had given her fifty pounds of the shards alone. That had been shocking. The shards themselves ranged in weight from a tenth of an ounce to nearly half, and that half was considered a rare occurrence.
She'd combined the bulk of the shards she'd bought for mere coppers with a couple hundred pounds of pig iron that she needed in order to fix the chairs in the decorative garden outside City Hall.
It was easier to buy the iron than to mine it. Her mine kept popping out 'rare' and 'expensive' ores and gems. It rather scared her to think of the news of it getting out. She could see herself being deluged by players once they were powerful enough to breach the Wildlands.
"Looking for a specific ship, lass?" One of the clerks asked, looking up from a ledger open on the counter in front of him.
"Yes, the Seahawk," Cora replied.
"Due in in the morning," the clerk replied with a quick glance. He scanned the shipping office, causing a few others to resume their duties. "Looking for sailors, lass?"
"Not at the moment. Maybe some fishermen who want to relocate?" Cora asked hopefully.
The clerk grinned at her. He wasn't unattractive with straight brown hair carefully oiled and combed back. He was wearing a long sleeved shirt under a simple leather vest, and two tight twists of leather secured his shirtsleeves to his biceps.
Cora smiled back. The whole setup of the office, both this and the caravanserai reminded her of something out of a Dickens book. It made her wonder about the programmers and their preferences a little.
"Sorry to say that there aren't any fisherfolk hereabouts. We ship most of our fish from the smaller villages around here," the clerk responded with a shake of his head. "Sorry again, little Miss Mayor."
"That's quite alright. It's a long slog where I'm going back to anyways," Cora said absently as she left the office.
She could feel someone staring at her, but when she looked back, everyone in the office seemed preoccupied with their own duties.