Asassin

It's 4050 and the world has had to revert back to basics. Kacela is possibly the best huntress and hired asassin in the entire of Escocia. The country is alive with thieves, killers, and hunters. A new sickness known as the Mal Plague is striking Escocia, and the people are dropping like flies. The only way to stay immune is to stay away......

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10. Currency

Kacela hurried through the gate, pulling Ignis along. She breathed deeply. She was free! She was immune! There was no Mal Plague to worry about here in Angliae.

Mounting again, Kacela rode Ignis further into Angliae. After an exhausting six miles, they came across a small town named Angor. Trotting through the streets, Kacela counted the shops until she spotted a free house called the Remedy Inn. Dismounting, Kacela tossed a few Lamna to the stable boy.

'Tie him up, give him a bed and feed him,' she instructed. The boy hurried over to Ignis.

Striding into the main room, Kacela surveyed the ruckus. Drunken men were sitting and scrubbed wooden tables, singing loud, rude songs and slopping beer everywhere. Someone had started a brawl in the corner. The asassin walked quietly up to the bar and asked the middle-aged woman in the shawl serving drinks, 'I'd like to rent your smallest room please for one night. Oh, and some weak beer.'

'You have an Escocian accent,' murmured the barwoman, narrowing her eyes. She scrutinised her new customer. Kacela stared steadily back. 'You from Escocia?'

'What do you mean?' Kacela said quietly. 'I've never even seen the Clostrum Barrier, let alone Crossed.'

The barwoman stared for a few more moments.

'Hello? Room and some weak beer?' prompted Kacela.

'Right then. Forty-two Pecunia, then,' muttered the barwoman, fiddling with the weak beer jug. She poured it into a large tankard.

'Pecunia?'

'Pecunia is the currency of Angliae.' The barwoman narrowed her eyes again, smiling. 'You are from Escocia, aren't you? Were you expecting to pay in Lamna?'

'Would you take forty-two Lamna?' muttered Kacela, flushing with shame. The stable boy must have been confused.

'Sorry, darling,' said the barwoman, shaking her head. 'But you can talk to old Tobius. He's always exchanging currencies with people from Escocia and Wallia the same. He's over there.'

She pointed into the corner. A hunched old man was sitting on a wobbly stool, muttering to himself.

Kacela thanked the barwoman and walked over to Tobius.

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