The Glass Unicorn: Part 1 by Yasmine Galenorn

Author:Yasmine Galenorn [Galenorn, Yasmine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Nightqueen Enterprises LLC
Published: 2025-09-21T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 5: ONWARD TO ADVENTURE!

“Apples—can we get more apples?” Brynn asked.

“And cheese!” Thornhold added. “Bread, as well.”

It was morning, and we had eaten breakfast at the inn, and now, we were standing in the Market Square, stocking up for our venture into the forest. Everybody wanted something different, so I finally put my foot down.

“I am not your personal shopper. I was happy to pay for the room, and everybody has their own money. Buy what you want, but remember, we might not come across any treasure troves on the way. With luck, we will, but the spare coins we got off the Trogger and the ogres might just be all the supplemental coinage we end up with. So think before you shop,” I added. “And stick close. We really don’t want to get split up around here.” I glanced around.

The market was bustling with housewives bargaining prices for food, vendors hawking their wares, children looking to steal an apple or a cookie. A few shops—more permanent than the vendor stalls—offered more permanent goods than food and cloth. Weapons makers, armorers, farriers, carpenters, and more, all lined the side of the market square.

The stench was overpowering—a combination of cooked meats, smoke, perfumes, B.O., burned vegetables and underlying everything, the ever present smell of raw sewage.

“I don’t care what anybody says,” I said. “Things were definitely not better in the olden days. Even the 70s, 80s, and 90s were problematic. Give me modern technology any day—at least on a day-to-day basis.” I caught sight of a weapons shop. “I want a better dagger. Anybody want to go with me?”

The fact that we got to keep our armor and weapons when our time in the game was over made it even more appealing to find some gorgeous blade to have as a souvenir.

Warning the others not to go far, although we could communicate with each other through our watches if we wanted to pay extra—and by extra, I meant twenty-five dollars per single text—Thornhold and I headed into the shop.

Behind the counter was a gorgeous Amazon of a woman. I’d thought Brynn was statuesque, but this chick made her look like a peasant.

She eyed us up and down. She was an Abarria Game-Guides employee. If we hurt her or tried to steal from her, it was automatically off to jail. Do not pass go, do not collect loot.

“Merry meet, and prithee, how might I give thee aid?” The words flowed off her tongue, but sounded so stilted that I snorted.

“You can speak normally to us,” I said. I knew the in-game employees were trained to speak like gamers thought they should, whether historically accurate or not. A lot of people felt it gave an authentic feel to the game, but there really wasn’t much historical accuracy to most RPGs.

She let out a sigh. “Thanks. I get so tired of remembering the script.” Then, as if she was afraid she might be overheard—and she very well might be—she blushed and added, “What can

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