This second version of Eyes of the Forest was more measured. Tighter. Not that it lacked for twists and turns, but they weren’t telegraphed. The sober version also made a hell of a lot more sense than Derrick’s stream-of-conscious version. The new chapters were hidden in short stacks under the treadmill.

There were two of everything now. Two Jancys, two Rowans, two Prince Orwens. They overlapped and intertwined of course. But he was damned if he was going to give this kid his best stuff. Derrick seemed perfectly happy with the pages Bob just dashed off without too much thought.

And letting all that crazy stuff loose was making something flower in Bob. He was doing the best writing he ever had.

Twice over.

DERRICK

Keep It in Character

Saturday night, and the Jolly Pirate tavern in Cascadia was packed. Guilds were holding meetings, elves were celebrating a name day, and adventuring groups were rehashing that day’s battles.

Rickard pulled the door closed behind him. The room was lit with candle holders and lanterns—both powered by LED bulbs. Period authenticity took a back seat to the fire marshal.

Crowding the long benches along the tables were lords and ladies, commoners and craftsmen, spies and soldiers, and the occasional elf or ogre. They were dicing, playing cards, or exchanging in-game gold for treats like bread or pie that been prepared OOG and then brought here. Some wore handmade costumes that looked it while others’ garb featured real ermine or hand-forged chain mail. The young man standing just inside the door felt his point of view begin to shift from Rickard’s to Derrick’s. In real life the players were college students, Uber drivers, exterminators, and architects. They worked at banks and call centers. More than one was a veteran with PTSD who said LARPing helped them deal.

It was time to spread the word about the once-in-a-lifetime chance to read R. M. Haldon’s new book. Since Derrick had started streaming the Haldon Cam, the first chapter alone had already sold over a hundred copies, and most buyers had come back for chapters two and three. The feedback on Reddit had completely turned around.

Derrick had already ordered custom-made armor from Austria for a price that would have bought a good used car, but it wouldn’t be ready for another month. Tonight the only evidence of his newfound wealth was the new scarlet-lined black cloak he’d bought on Etsy.

Everyone was drinking. Some players were tavern jockeys who would spend most of their weekend here. But just like the candles had been replaced with their LED counterparts, the spirits were actually juice. As the night wore on, a few players would still pretend to be drunk. Sometimes hookups were blamed on too much mead.