by K D Brand
As he’d seen the start of separation between the two with his friends, Ty wondered if all of the NPCs in the game were capable of becoming self-aware to a degree. Would they eventually shake off the programming and become real people in their entirety?
Unsure of how he felt about that prospect, Ty waved goodbye to Semul and let him get back to the book. Then Ty left and headed back toward the tavern, realizing how familiar the trip felt.
“It’s like every bad D&D campaign I’ve ever played,” he griped. “We always end up in the damn bar.”
And trouble ensues!
Thirteen
E-I-E-I-Oh Crap!
TY STOOD AT the window of the Shady Orchid, peering inside, his nose scrunched at what he saw.
Defiler of Souls! was there. He and his buddies, Primmus, Vile One, and Zurber were camped out alongside him. They were all crowded around their chosen table, their voices rising up in inane babble that made Ty’s ears tingle. The number of empty mugs on the table and littering the floor around them told Ty they’d been drinking…a lot.
“Just my luck,” he muttered.
While he felt more confident taking them on now that he had a couple levels beneath his belt, Ty had learned long ago, on the brutal streets of Chicago, that it was never a good idea to rattle the cage of people who traveled in groups. They were always more than willing to use that numerical advantage to curb stomp a guy, no matter how much smaller or weaker he was.
In fact, the more of them there were, the more likely it would happen.
It was a pride thing when it was one on one; it became a pack thing when there were more.
So, rather than go inside and risk riling the fools up and spending more time in Savan’s cots, Ty hid behind the window sill and angled himself so that Defiler’s crew couldn’t see him, but he could still see, and be seen, by Char and the others.
He tapped on the glass as gently as he could to keep from drawing Defiler’s attention, but it was hardly loud enough for even the people sitting closest to the window to hear him.
“I’m seriously going to have to rig this window somehow so I can open it without breaking the glass,” he muttered. “Of course, system resets will probably fix it after a day or two. If not, it’ll happen when the horde hits.”
Maybe I can convince these guys to camp out somewhere else less…Defiley.
An NPC seated a nearby table glanced over at him when he tapped again. Her tag read Gema, and she stared at him with wide, uncertain eyes. It was clear by the WTF expression crossing her face that she could see him, but she clearly had no idea as how to respond.
She tapped the shoulder of another NPC seated at the table and pointed him out. A moment later, Ty had two saucer-eyed non-players eyeballing him.
Fortunately, Char noticed the commotion before anyone else did and waved him off after a furtive glance at Defiler and his buddies. She signaled she would be right out, and Ty nodded, moving away from the window so no one else accidentally noticed him.
Deeper in the shadows of the tavern building, he wondered if more of the NPCs were becoming aware or if Gema seeing him had just been a fluke.
He really wasn’t sure which he preferred right then.
While having NPCs cognizant of what was really going on in the world of Emerhant could be a good thing. It would help Ty if someone actually understood what he was going through, and maybe they’d know what to do to get him home.
On the other side of that, though, there was no telling what full-scale awareness by the NPCs would do to the game. The system was based around the NPCs being in their place, doing their jobs, even if those jobs were being monstrous buttheads and killing PCs like him. Were everyone to start going on and doing whatever the heck they wanted to, the whole system would collapse.
He wondered if that exact thing hadn’t already begun.
His three friends hadn’t set foot in their places of business since they went about summoning Ty, and even before that. How nobody had noticed that the butcher shop, the general store, and the…uh, the whatever it was that Amon did for a living shop, had essentially shut down, those supplies they carried no longer working into the local game economy.
Fortunately, Altunn being a starter town, their disappearances likely had less of an impact than if it had happened in Turun or Valern, both major gaming hubs for PCs. Ty could only imagine what kind of chaos would break out were Eunice, the barkeeper, to suddenly figure things out and go on walkabout.
Before he actually did imagine it, Char and the others came around the corner and pulled him from his thoughts. The trio pulled up short a few feet away from him.
“Did you get…taller?” Amon asked, staring him down.
“I don’t think so…” Ty started to reply before letting his denial fade away as he realized something.
He actually had grown.
“Well, I’ll be,” he mumbled. “I have gotten taller.”
The last time he’d spoken with Amon, the man practically towered over him. He remembered staring right around Amon’s ribcage, examining the split ends of his salty beard. Now, he looked to be staring straight at Amon’s collarbones.
It was a subtle difference of perspective, but now that it had been pointed out, Ty couldn’t help but notice it.
“You’ve only been gone a few hours,” Deven argued. “How’s a kid get a growth spurt that quickly? What have you been eating, boy?”
“You look broader, too,” Char commented. She came over and inspected him closer, placing her hands on each of his shoulders, which only made Ty nervous.
He eased back a step not to be quite so close to the woman looming over him. He glanced down at himself and noticed that his jerkin did fit a little snugger, the rope straining a little against the slight expanse of his torso. His pants fit better, too.
He smiled, realizing then that his training in-game affected a physical transformation on him the same way working out would in real life, only at a vastly-accelerated pace. If he were to continue his leveling and training, he might actually be able to increase his size to that of AzzKicker one day, and the thought thrilled him.
“Remember that training thing I mentioned earlier?”
“That’s what’s done this?” Deven asked, eyebrows raised. “I might just have to storm my own castles if that’s what you get out of it.”
Once more, Ty’s cheeks blushed, feeling worse than when Semul threw the fake fireball at him.
“Ah, come on, man. Really? I’d totally forgotten all about that. Thanks for reminding me, you rotten Kumquat,” he grunted, snarling at the butcher.
The three broke into raucous laughter, eyes bright and faces flushing until they nearly matched his.
“What’s so funny?” he asked.
After a moment of Char gasping and trying to catch her breath after laughing so hard, she finally reined herself in enough to talk. “We couldn’t help but notice you have a very…strange way of cursing,” she told him. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard someone be so…interesting while doing it.”
Ty sighed. Thoughts of his mother flashed through his mind. It seemed as if he’d been gone forever. Had it only been a couple of days game-time?
“Yeah, well…if you knew my mom,” he started, gagging a little. “There was a time when I cussed like a sailor—”
“As in…nautical themes?” Amon asked. “You filthy bilge water?”
“Son of a rusty anchor!” Deven jumped in.
“Your mother is a figurehead!” Char shouted, grinning broadly.
“No, not like that,” Ty groaned, waving them to silence. “Just forget the sailor part.”
“But you just said—”
“Forget what I said!” Ty growled at Deven, and the butcher backed up a step, covering his mouth to stem his laughter. “You guys seriously need to stop taking everything I say so literally.”
It took Ty a moment to calm his breathing and get back to the explanation.
“I just…I just used to curse a
lot, okay,” he clarified. “It was one thing when my dad was around. Mom kinda had her hands full keeping track of him and all his bad habits. She was too busy to pay much attention to what me or J, my brother, were doing,” he clarified. “Anyway, it wasn’t until she chased Dad off that she realized I sounded just like him. She didn’t like that one bit.”
Ty swallowed hard, bile rising up in his throat.
“So, uh, yeah, she was none too pleased, let me tell you. I was online…er, I was playing a game, chatting with my friends, and she heard me say something I wasn’t supposed to. She snatched me up by my ear and dragged me to the kitchen sink. There, she…uh, she grabbed a bottle of Tabasco sauce out of the fridge and dish soap and squirted a bunch of both into my mouth at once and made me gargle them.” He shuddered, closing his eyes to chase away the memory. “I burped up spicy bubbles for days.”
The three NPCs stood there in absolute silence, staring at Ty.
Then they exploded into laughter again.
Deven nearly fell over, stumbling backward and almost missing the support of the wall as he clutched at his belly. Amon stood rigid, turning a brilliant shade of purple under his fur, gasping for breath as he laughed, and Char plopped onto her butt, hyena-chuckles spilling uncontrollably from her covered mouth.
“Oh, I see…my suffering is funny to you? This is all just a joke to you all, huh?” Ty growled, spinning on his heel, marching off down the alley, feet slapping the ground.
“Wait!” Char shouted, still trying to choke back her laugh, barely able to get the word out.
Ty heard her scramble to her feet, kicking up dirt, and race after him. Deven and Amon followed, both still biting back their amusement.
They caught up to Ty a moment later, and Char placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him from marching on. She gave a gentle squeezed and turned him around to face her. He moped, bottom lip sucked into his mouth, mouth trembling.
“I’m sorry,” she said, admirably placing her laughter in check in order to apologize to him. “We didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. We—”
Ty burst into laughter and pointed a finger at them, unable to contain himself any longer. “Hah! I’m only kidding about being upset. That crap was funny. I’d have busted out laughing if someone told me that, too,” he said, grinning broadly.
Char’s eyes widened, surprise obvious in their bright depths. Deven and Amon went silent and glared at Ty.
“Well, it wasn’t so funny then, mind you,” Ty went on. “My butt hurt as much as my throat did the next day, but I pretended I was a dragon, spewing fire. I chased my brother around the house for hours that night, burping in his face and listening to him scream because the soap and Tabasco got in his eyes.”
“This…really happened?” Char asked.
Ty nodded. “Heck yeah it did. As much fun as it was to torture my brother afterward, every time I even think of saying a cuss word, I can taste lemon dish soap and hot sauce, and I don’t want no more of that. Ever.”
The three of them stood around without saying a word until Ty turned and waved them on.
“Enough story time,” he called out. “I ain’t ready to face down the horde just yet, but I remembered another quest I can do that won’t get me clawed up by a gnoll or have Halgor threatening to pick his nasty teeth with my bones.”
Char stiffened, stumbling, and nearly tripping. “Wait! You went against the troll king? You didn’t tell us that.”
“More like ran for my life from him,” he admitted, over his shoulder, forcing them to keep up. “There wasn’t much in the way of combat, unless you count me fighting not to soil my drawers. Now, that was a battle, let me tell you.”
“But it’s not yet the full moon. Not for days,” Char argued. “He should not have crossed the wall yet, especially not in daylight. And we would have heard something if he had.”
“Oh, he didn’t,” Ty assured her. “I went out to the horde.”
Char raced up behind him and grabbed his arm, yanking him to a stop and twirling him around. “Why would you do such a foolish thing?”
Ty shrugged. “I admit it was pretty stupid, hindsight being 20/20 and all, but remember when I told you I knew everything about your world?”
She nodded.
“Well, it seems I really don’t,” he said. “Not anymore, at least. Things are changing, and I think I might be part of that.”
“What do you mean?” Amon asked, one hand absentmindedly stroking his beard.
“The summoning. I think it fundamentally altered something in Emerhant,” he explained. “I don’t know what exactly, and I won’t even pretend to guess, but just the fact that I’m here—a scrawny kid from Chicago, doing things I’m not supposed to, hanging out with you guys—tells me that something weird is going on in your world.”
Ty turned and started off again. The three NPCs followed, only Char matching his pace and walking alongside him.
“How does this affect us?” she asked.
Ty shrugged. “I really don’t know,” he admitted. “But I did figure out that I can better myself here, become stronger, more powerful. I might never be the great warrior you guys attempted to summon, but I still think I can help. We’re just going to have to be more careful now, though, because what I thought I understood about this place might not be true anymore. And in Emerhant, I’m learning, ignorance can be deadly.”
Char nodded her agreement. She and Deven and Amon, of all people, had clearly learned that lesson, their burgeoning awareness opening their lives to all sorts of dangers they’d never before had to consider except in passing.
Their thoughts heavy with uncertainty, the NPCs remained quiet for most of the trip through town. It was only when they neared their destination that Amon spoke up.
“What are we doing here at the farms?” he asked, glancing about. “You know, I don’t believe I’ve ever been out here before.”
“Nor have I,” Deven admitted. Char nodded her agreement.
None of that was much of a surprise to Ty. He didn’t imagine the three had been anywhere but the tavern since the wizard had provided them with the spell to summon him into the game.
Speaking of the wizard, Ty would eventually have to talk to the guy and see if he knew what was going on in the realm, and if he could help Ty get home but, so far, the old drunk hadn’t returned to Altunn.
If he’s not coming here, then I need to go to him, Ty thought. That means two more levels before I can leave legitimately and not climb over the wall to avoid Cord. Oh, plus I’ll need an army if I’m going to take out Halgor so I can get past the woods.
None of that made Ty feel any better about things, so he decided to focus on the task at hand: grinding. It was something he could control.
As they approached the first of the farms, those at the westernmost side of Altunn, Ty spotted the farmer who owned the property. He stood near the gate to his land, a great metal arch above proclaiming it to be the Crescent Valley Fields.
Ty glanced out over the sprawling land beyond the fence. The dark mountains to the west butted up right against the furthest field, its arms cradling the farm as though it sat in a half-circle. Meanwhile, the setting sun cast a shimmering glow over the rocks, illuminating valley with a silvery sheen, explaining where the farm’s name had come from.
But not all was as majestic as it appeared.
Ty spied a number of dark shapes, slunk low to the ground, lurking among the crops, darting back and forth while the farmer shouted at them, waving his hoe in the air in hopes of scaring the vermin off.
He wasn’t having any success.
Ty grinned despite the farmer’s unfortunate circumstances. The quest he remembered from way back when was still active, and that was a good thing. For Ty, not the farmer.
“What’s wrong, Tolon?” Deven called out to the farmer.
The old man snapped his head about, wild eyebrows rising at seeing Ty and the three NPCs standing there, realizing they’d been watching him shriek at the small,
furry animals tearing through his crops.
Tolon lowered his hoe and came over to stand before them. “Pesky varmints, that’s what’s wrong,” he complained. “I spend day and night out here, shooing the little bastards away, but no matter how many of them I kill or chase off, more show up to take their place. I swear, they breed faster than rabbits.”
“Is there anything we can do for you?” Char asked.
Tolon shook his head, beads of sweat rolling down his temples and riding the swell of his puffy jowls. “No, can’t no one do nothing, I’m afraid. There’s simply too many of these critters tearing through my crops. By the time harvest rolls around, there won’t be nothing left for me to collect.”
Char went to say something, but Ty set a hand on her shoulder and squeezed, cutting her off before she could even begin.
“I’ve got this,” he told her. He turned to the farmer. “Excuse me, Tolon, perhaps I can help you with your problem.”
“He just said that no one could do anything, so why—” Deven began, but the farmer interrupted.
“I’d be grateful for your help, traveler,” Tolon said, his entire demeanor going from surly and hopeless to grateful in a flash.
Deven stiffened, slamming his arms across his meaty chest. “But you just…” He let the rest of his complaint go, glaring over at Ty. “How do you do that?”
“It’s magic,” Ty laughed, then looked to the farmer again. “So, you were saying, Tolon?”
“Yes, yes,” the farmer went on. “I could most certainly use someone capable of rooting these pests out without damaging my crops. I’d hate to have to fire my fields. There’s no way we’d survive the winter if we were forced to do that, let alone who knows how much harm it would do to the town folk of Altunn. They depend on us for their all their grains and vegetables.” He paused for a moment, breathing slow and steadying himself before he continued. “So, yes, I’d appreciate a hand ridding my field of these vermin. Can I count on you?”