by K D Brand
“The wizard, Varus, had given all that he had, telling us that the ingredients were hard to come by, that they were spread out in various locations across Emerhant. Some were said to be in the cloud city of Anar, others in the deepest, darkest dungeons, and some just growing wild out there in the wilderness. But now…” Amon’s voice trailed off, and Ty understood he was trying to avoid hurting his feelings.
Ty grunted. Whatever had happened with the spell, why it had brought him, plain old Ty, to UO rather than his avatar, he didn’t know, but he realized that he’d unintentionally ruined their only chance at fending off the horde.
“I know I’m not what you expected, but I still think I can help you. I might not be AzzKickerofTheGodz420 here,” and he thumped his chest, implying his body, “but I’m still him in here.” He tapped his index finger against his temple. “I know dang near everything there is to know about this ga…world,” he corrected at the last moment.
He figured it might be just a bit too much for them to realize they didn’t really exist, and that they were just zeros and ones plugged into a program somewhere on another plane of existence.
Heck, it was dang near too much for Ty to process.
And, honestly, he wasn’t entirely sure they didn’t exist now that he’d sat down and talked with them. Smart as Ty thought himself to be, he wasn’t exactly Stephen Hawkings or Neil deGrasse Tyson smart. For that matter, he really wasn’t even Mike Tyson smart.
Now, that’s depressing.
“So, yeah, I might not be able to stand toe-to-toe with Halgor and kick his gray, pimply troll butt like you wanted, but I think I can help save your village.”
Ty didn’t add the part where he thought it might take two or three more invasions before he succeeded, but what they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them…too much.
I mean, they do regen every time they die, right? He sighed, annoyed with himself for his callousness. What would Mom think?
The thought of his mother settled over him like a funeral drape. Would he ever see her again, or J?
His stomach gurgled, and he put a hand to his mouth as the taste of bile stung the back of his throat. He didn’t want to imagine being stuck in-game forever, never seeing his family again.
But maybe there’s a way out after all, he thought.
“But…if I do this, I’m going to need something from you,” he told them.
He hated that he’d turned mercenary so easily, falling into old game habits, but if there was any chance of him going home, he felt it lay in the same process that had brought him there in the first place: the summoning.
“Anything,” the three agreed in unison.
“You sure about that,” he pressed and glanced at each as they nodded in turn, confirming their decision.
Ty returned the nod, their pact sealed.
“All right, I guess we’re doing this then,” he said, sorting his thoughts before continuing. “First, I need to speak with that old wizard you said gave you the spell. Varus, right?”
Char sighed. “That might be difficult.”
“Why’s that?”
“Well, he doesn’t live here in Altunn,” she explained.
“He only passes through now and again,” Amon said, taking over for Char. “He’s kind of the realm’s wandering drunk. He meanders from town to town, seeking out anyone who will buy him drinks to listen to the strange and wild tales of his travels.”
“Most of which begin with, ‘I was drinking that day,’ and end with, ‘I’m not really sure what happened to the—insert epic monster of your choice—because I’d had a few drinks that day.’”
“He sounds delightful,” Ty muttered. His hopes of the man being any help to him at all were quickly diminishing.
“When he wears out his welcome at the nearby towns, he’ll pass back through,” Char said. “Though, no one can say for sure when that’ll be, but he seems to pop up about once every few moons.”
Ty went to ask whether she meant real moons or in-games moons, then realized how stupid the question was.
She only knew of one moon. That meant Varus circled back around about every two to three weeks, which didn’t help Ty at all.
If he was going to do this, he was essentially going to be doing it on his own.
He sighed, and then gestured to himself. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not much to look at.”
Deven shrugged. “Why’d you have to go calling attention to it, boy? We wouldn’t have said anything if you hadn’t. Now, it’s the mastodon in the room.”
“Uh…the elephant in the room,” Ty corrected.
Deven stiffened and glanced about. “Where?”
“No, that’s just how—” Ty sucked in a deep breath and caught himself. “Never mind. Back to my point. I’m thinking I need to level up before we try and do anything else. I need to earn some experience.”
“Level…” Amon started.
“Up?” Charice finished.
Deven just motioned to the others, pretty much asking the same question without saying anything at all. His eyes swiveled about, likely still looking for the elephant.
“Yeah…uh… You know what? I’ll tell you about all that stuff later,” Ty redirected, the prospect of having to explain the concept of leveling all too daunting for him to comprehend right then, especially after having suffered through the rest of their conversation. “For right now, just follow me.”
It was time to find a quest and get some experience under his belt.
He hopped up and headed for the door, the three NPCs trailing behind.
“We’re off to see the wizard!” he called out, marching ahead, chuckling.
“I thought he was looking for a job,” Amon muttered. “Now we’re trying to find a wizard? Is he talking about Varus? I thought we’d made it clear the old drunk doesn’t want to help us anymore than he already has.”
“This kid makes no sense,” Deven stated.
“Maybe he’s looking for a different wizard,” Charice offered with a shrug.
Together, the three of them followed, shaking their heads and wondering what Ty was up to.
He just let them chatter on and sighed.
All my best references are wasted on these guys.
Eight
To Wrest a Quest
OUT ON THE street, Ty tried to think back and remember what NPCs offered what quests, but his mind was a muddled mess. It’d been way too long since he’d visited Altunn, and even longer since he’d had to worry about working his way through the array of noob quests in order to level or get gear.
Even if he had remembered what was available, they would have all changed by now. Fortunately, though, it was a pretty good guess that he could approach just about any NPC in a stationary position and find some kind of offer to work or do something for them. And, as was pretty consistent with MMORPGs, the type of work or quest would most likely be tied into the job the NPC held in-game.
So, as he walked along, he checked out each NPC he passed, trying to determine what kind of quest they might offer and whether he wanted to bother approaching them or not.
He immediately blew off the half-orc sitting outside of the rogues’ den near the Shadow Walk, continuing on with barely a glance. While any quest the NPC might offer would be interesting and exciting, Ty didn’t feel as though he was built for sneaking around and doing dirty work for the guild just yet.
Besides, he really couldn’t picture himself as a successful thief, regardless of the Muffin Incident. So, he continued on.
He drifted toward the center of town, passing a general store that seemed abandoned. He glanced through the windows and didn’t see anyone inside.
“Good thing I don’t need to buy anything,” he muttered. “The fripping shopkeeper is AWOL, and the place looks locked up tight.
Ty heard a set of keys rattle.
“If you need something, I can open up and let you peruse my stock,” Charice told him.
Ty stumbled to a halt. “Wait! Th
is is your shop?” An eyebrow rose.
Charice nodded. “The store opens daily, just after dawn until dusk, and I offer the best prices on basic adventuring equipment and tools.”
After a quick glance at the sky, noting the position of the sun creeping overhead, Ty asked, “Then…uh, if you open in the morning, why isn’t the shop open now?”
Charice peeled her gaze from the keyring in her hand and let it drift to the locked door of her shop. Uncertainty washed over her features. After a quiet moment, she offered up a halfhearted shrug. “I’ve been…busy…with the summoning,” she answered, glancing at the dust building up on the doorknob. “Perhaps I should—”
Ty realized she was about to slip back into her programmed routine, so he headed it off. He grabbed her arm and laughed, gently guiding her away from her shop.
“It’s probably best to take a few days off, anyway,” he told her. “We’ve got to get ready for the horde, remember?”
She resisted his pull for a moment, indecision causing her feet to drag, then she relented, letting him steer her out to the street. “Yes, we need to get ready, you’re right,” she agreed and turned her gaze on him. “And what is it we are doing to prepare exactly?”
“I’m looking for a quest.”
“A quest?” Amon asked. “I don’t understand. How will that help us defeat the horde?”
“Well, it’s kinda hard to explain, but it will help me become more like the AzzKickerofTheGodz420 you tried to summon,” he replied.
“So far, all you’ve done is walk down the road and look at people,” Deven stated. “I don’t see how that helps accomplish anything.”
“I know this all seems weird to you, but there are things I suspect you don’t know about in your world,” he answered.
“Then, perhaps you should enlighten us,” Charice said.
Ty sighed. He didn’t want to spend all day trying to explain everything to them, and he wasn’t even sure it was a good idea. Still, he figured it might make things easier if they were more aware of what was going on than they currently were.
“Okay, I’ll try,” he said. “You see, the people of Altunn—well, select ones—offer assistance to adventurers in the way of tasks or short assignments, where a person can earn money or items in return for their services.”
“They’re called jobs, genius,” Charice remarked. Amon and Deven shook their heads and chuckled. “We all have them.”
Ty grinned. “Well, yeah…sort of, but it’s different for players…er, adventurers.” He corrected. “We earn something called experience for taking on and completing these tasks. In turn, we get better, stronger, and more capable of doing things. Earn enough experience doing these quests and a person might even stand against the horde.”
None of the NPCs looked as if they believed that at all.
“How does one doing a job prepare them to take on an army of vicious creatures?” Amon wondered. “If that were the case, then all of us would be capable of killing the troll king for we’ve each worked our entire lives.”
“It’s not quite the same for NPCs as it is for…” Ty snarled, cutting his statement short as he realized what he’d said.
“NPCs?” Charice questioned.
Ty waved the question off. How the heck did you tell someone their sole purpose in life was to cater to the whims of player characters?
“My point is, adventurers earn experience differently and can become great warriors like AzzKickerofTheGodz420 because of it.”
All three stared at him with blank expressions. There was no way to get them to understand without revealing the fundamental differences between PCs and NPCs, and that was a conversation he wasn’t interested in having.
“It’s confusing, I know,” he went on, “but you’re just going to have to trust me. It’s how it works.”
“Idiotic logic aside,” Charice said, “how can you tell who has a…quest just by looking at them?”
“Pretty much everyone here in Altunn has one,” Ty answered. “Heck, I bet all three of you have one, too.”
“I most assuredly do not,” Deven growled. “I pride myself on running my shop myself, and I have never once asked anyone to help me with it, having never needed anyone’s assistance before. Certainly not from some tiny whelp.”
“You sure about that?” Ty asked with a laugh.
“Absolutely!” the butcher stated matter-of-factly. He placed his hands defiantly on his hips, his barrel-chest jutted out.
Ty grinned.
Challenge accepted.
“Greetings, sir,” Ty said, addressing Deven, “might you have some work or a task to complete to help a lowly adventurer make ends meet?”
Deven stiffened, eyes glazed. “To tell the truth, business has been trying of late. Arn Gale, the shepherd who provides mutton for my shop, has had his flock beset by a pack of wolves. They are foul, vicious creatures that swoop down from the Draken Mountains to the west in the dark of night and tear into the sheep, leaving behind only stained grass and tufts of bloody wool.
“These beasts are ruining my business, the lack of mutton for sale to my customers biting deeply into my profits. If they are not stopped soon, I might well lose my livelihood, not to mention what might happen to Arn. Perhaps you can visit the shepherd and see if there is something you can do to turn these wolves aside and help save my shop. What say you? Will you help?”
You have been offered the quest, Bark at the Moon, by the butcher, Deven. Do you accept? Yes or no?
Deven’s eyes flew wide, and he looked ready to faint, wavering in place. “I-I have no…idea where that…where that came from,” he sputtered, barely able to get the words out.
Charice and Amon stared at him, mouths hanging agape.
Ty chuckled and patted Deven on the shoulder. “I hate to say I told you so… Nah, I really don’t hate it at all. I told you so!”
Deven just stood there, staring, and Ty resisted doing a victory dance.
Well, he resisted for all of three seconds.
Then he dabbed, laughing all the while.
When he was done, he looked back to Deven. “By the way, I’m going to have to say no to your generous quest offer. Sorry. I’m not ready for wolves. Or for sheep.”
You have refused Deven’s quest. The poor people of Altunn will have to do without mutton thanks to you. I hope you’re happy eating cow.
Ty grinned. He’d always liked the snark of the AI engine that ran Umbra Online and, if nothing else good came of being there in-game, at least he had that to look forward to.
“How did you know he would offer you a task when even he didn’t?” Charice asked, finally able to speak coherently. “He’s never once spoken of Arn before, or of any troubles at the shop.” She turned a suspicious eye on the butcher. “We knew none of this; not the wolves, nothing.”
Deven shrugged, pulling a guilty face. “Can’t say I knew it either,” he admitted. “I can’t remember ever even speaking to Arn, let alone seeing the man or knowing of his troubles.”
Ty chuckled. “Don’t take it too seriously,” he told them. “I can’t explain it without confusing the heck out of you, but your shop’s fine, and Arn will keep sending you mutton no matter how many wolves show up.”
“You can’t possibly know that,” Charice argued.
“But I do, actually,” he countered. “It’s just how things are here.” Ty locked gazes with her. “Were I to ask you for a quest, you’d spit one out, the same as Deven did. It’d be some sob story about the horde blocking your suppliers from entering town and your stock running low, or something like that. Then you’d ask me to find another way in for them or to take out a small group of goblins to help your people get through, or bring the supplies in myself.”
Charice scoffed. “I’d never ask you to do that. I don’t even have suppliers. I don’t need anyone to bring me…” her voice trailed off as the failed logic of her statement hit her.
“No suppliers? Then how do you restock?” Ty pushed. “
Where do you get your supplies from?”
“I-I… They just…”
“They just show up, right? You never run out of anything, you never need to spend money to restock or buy new merchandise, right? The same way Deven’s meat arrives.”
Charice went quiet, cheeks paling. Deven and Amon stared, eyes narrow.
“Like I told you all earlier, you might not have summoned the big bad bruiser you wanted to save you from the horde, but you got the brains behind him,” Ty told her. “I know more about you and your world than you do, and I can help you, but you have to trust me.”
It was a lot to ask of them, Ty knew. As far as they understood, they’d summoned the wrong guy entirely, and Ty’s scrawny butt wasn’t remotely anything they pictured as being useful to them against a monster horde.
Heck, Ty wasn’t even sure he would be all that useful, but he’d promised to try, and he would. He wanted to go home as badly as they wanted theirs to be safe from the troll king. And the only way to achieve the former was to accomplish the latter.
“Can you at least give me the benefit of the doubt…for now?” he asked.
There was a quiet pause as the three looked to each other, silently making their decision. Finally, they nodded their reluctant agreement.
Ty grinned. “Then let’s do this.”
He started off again, marching down the street and examining the various NPCs again. As he assessed each in turn, the sound of a soft whimper caught his attention. He snapped his head around and spotted a bedraggled woman, sobbing into her sleeve. Big brown eyes, glistening with tears, peered out over the material, and she paced back and forth outside a small cluster of homes.
Her gaze locked on Ty the moment he drew closer, and she darted toward him, breathless, tears leaking down her pale cheeks like tiny silver rivers.
“My child…” she howled. Her voice was raw, the cry coming out in a raspy huff. “I can’t find my child!”
She clasped Ty’s shoulders, burying her face in his chest—though, admittedly, she had to duck really low to do it. Feeling self-conscious, Ty eased her away so she didn’t look like a begging Hunchback of Notre Dame.