First things first, though. I need to find a town and see what this game really has to offer. Looking at the map, the closest town is on the outskirts of the forest to the west. That’s where I’ll go and maybe find out a little more about what makes this world tick. If I’m lucky, I might even run into another player.
On the way, I can farm and test out my abilities.
The first animal I come across is a tiny bunny. One smash of my club kills the poor creature. It drops a rabbit pelt, and my XP goes up by five. I tuck the rabbit pelt into the strap of my loincloth. I need to find some better monsters. At the current rate, it’ll take sixty rabbits for me to get to level two.
Remembering my Camouflage passive, I stop moving. When the twenty seconds is up, I don’t notice any difference in my appearance, but nature explodes to life around me. Birds tweet from the trees above, insects rattle and buzz in a violent cacophony. It’s like I completely vanished from the forest. Then I notice an icon flashing next to my avatar. It’s a small picture of a more animated version of me hiding between two large bushes. It pulses slowly. I move and the icon disappears. The forest goes quiet once again.
That’ll be useful.
I freeze my movements again. When the timer is up and the icon appears, the forest roars back to life. I sit and wait, letting the animals grow comfortable. Several more bunnies appear around me, hopping and frolicking as if all is good in the world. They’re not even worth my time at this point. I’m way too strong to be wasting my time killing bunnies and rats. I need bigger game.
So I sit. Patience is a virtue for a reason. Five minutes later, my patience is rewarded by several fox-looking creatures walking in my direction.
Jackal. Level 2. Ranging in size from as small as foxes to as large as wolves, jackals are known for being sly and for their high perception.
They are about ten feet away when one of them senses something isn’t right. It lifts its nose in the air, smelling my scent.
Not wanting the creatures to run away, I end Camouflage and leap towards the small pack of canines. I smash one with my club, dropping its health by a third and claw at another. The three jackals turn to face me, teeth bared and ready to fight.
With my ten rage, I use Bite and attack the first jackal again. The bonus damage is enough to kill the creature in one attack. The biggest of the remaining two lunges at me, taking a bite out of my leg. A dull pain runs up my leg, and I smack the jackal to the side. I kick the other before it has a chance to attack. Using the newly acquired rage, I activate Intimidation and let out a roar that freezes both jackals in fear, unable to attack for two seconds.
By the time the effect wears off, I’ve killed another jackal and use Bite to finish off the third.
Congratulations! You have reached level 2. +1 stat point to distribute. +1 Strength and Constitution racial bonus.
Not bad at all. I elect to save my stat point until I have more and can decide the best way to allocate them. Without an in-depth tutorial, I’m kind of learning this as I go and don’t want to do anything I might regret so early in the game.
I gather the jackal pelts and tuck them in my loincloth, setting off toward the town marked on the map. I really need to find a satchel of some sort to carry my items in. My little loincloth is only going to be able to carry so much.
For a moment, I contemplate going in search of the ogre. To prove to him and myself that I’m not really as big of a chump as I was in that first fight. I think better of it and realize that maybe that’s why I raged so much online. Because as long as I’ve been playing, I’ve had a chip on my shoulder. Something to prove. Deep down, I wanted to be a professional gamer. If I could somehow show the world what I’m capable of, then maybe my parents might actually notice me. The fact that the mistakes of other people kept that from happening was the trigger that set me off each time.
I flip a calloused green middle finger into the air and wonder if Valery and her team are watching me as I contemplate my life’s work while walking as a monster through a lush forest in a video game.
Along the way, I cross paths with a wild boar, which gets me almost to level three. Not wanting to let a good opportunity go to waste, I kill a few more bunnies and go the distance. I use my new ability point to unlock Iron Will.
Between the tusks from the boar and all the pelts, I’ve run out of places to store items unless I want to carry everything in my hands. That just won’t do.
The boar hide is the largest, so I lay it flat on the ground and then fold it in half. Using my razor-sharp claws, I poke several holes along each side of the hide and a couple along the top. I search a nearby tree and find exactly what I’m looking for: thin, green vines. I pull several down and strip the leaves from them. Next, I run the vines through the holes on each side of the boar hide, creating a makeshift satchel. It’s not the best work, but it should last me until I make it to town and can either buy some string or purchase an actual bag.
Now that I have the bag made, I loop the remaining vines through the holes I poked in the top to make a strap. I intertwine the vines together to make it sturdier and then tie off the loose ends on the other side.
I stuff the remaining pelts and the two boar tusks in the satchel and admire my work. Not bad. Not bad at all.
Congratulations! You have unlocked the skill ‘Leatherworking.’ You are now a level 1 Leatherworker (Novice). Increase your skill and learn advanced techniques for working leather by finding an advanced leatherworker (Apprentice or above). Crafting Ranks: Novice, Apprentice, Journeyman, Expert, Artisan, Master, Grandmaster.
Sweet! That means I’ll be able to learn to make leather armor and as my skill goes up, the quality should increase. Since none of the animals have dropped gold, I’m guessing this is the type of game where you make gold from completing quests and selling the items you make. That’s good. It means I won’t spend all of my time fighting monsters. Not that that isn’t fun, but it’s nice to spice things up. I wonder what other types of crafting I can learn?
I toss the satchel over my shoulder and set off towards town. It’s peaceful walking through the forest. New York City was never this calm. Walking down the street, even at three in the morning, car horns blared, lights flashed, and a thousand voices blended together in a raucous buzz as people talked on cell phones and ignored everyone else around them. Even at Central Park, it was hard to find a moment’s quiet.
I take in a deep breath and just enjoy the sound of nature around me. Sure, I’m here because I screwed up, but this is a once in a lifetime experience. I’m going to make the most of it.
CLINK.
My communing with nature is interrupted by a sound I know all too well.
A swordfight.
6. Ranger Danger
I follow the sound of clashing swords. As quietly as my troll body will allow, I do my best to find the source of the noise without being detected. There is something about the ringing of metal on metal that makes my blood pump. Probably the thousands of hours I’ve poured into games over the years. Magic is flashy, but nothing beats a good swordfight.
The clinking gets louder, and I’m finally able to see the source. Two men, both wearing brown leather armor and green cloaks, attack and parry on the bank of a gurgling stream.
Forest Ranger. Level 4.
The men are almost identical, except one has a brown beard and the other’s is blond. The blond man attacks with a fierce slash, knocking his opponent off balance. He then follows up with another swift swing, but the one with the brown beard is able to deflect the blow, sending his attacker stumbling past him.
He turns to charge his opponent, but the blond man slips in the sand and falls to one knee, losing his sword. The brown beard raises his weapon overhead and swings, stopping an inch from the man’s neck.
He says something I can’t quite make out and they both laugh, then he extends his arm and helps the man to his feet.
That’s when I notice their belongings piled neatly against a tree. Several b
ags, two bows, quivers full of arrows. They’re traveling companions enjoying an afternoon spar. But are they players or are they NPCs?
If I had to put money on it, I would say the latter. As far as I know, there are only twenty-four actual players in Isle of Mythos right now. With this being a pretty large continent, not to mention the size of the planet, I would say that the majority of inhabitants are non-player characters. But which ones? And how do I tell?
It can’t hurt to ask. Even if they are real players, convicts, they’re supposed to be playing the hero. What do I have to lose?
“Hey,” I shout, waving and poking my head over the embankment.
The two men immediately rise to their feet, swords drawn and pointed in my direction. They scowl at me as I approach.
“Whoa, no need for that.” I toss my club to the ground and put my hands up in defense, showing them I mean no harm, but it does nothing to calm the men. They slowly back away towards their belongings. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m on my way to town to get set up and maybe learn a few things.”
Their faces are completely void of recognition to anything I am saying, their eyes wide in terror. I know Valery said trolls were hated, but this seems like an overreaction. They must not see too many trolls around these parts.
Brown-beard says something to Blondie, but once again, I can’t make it out. Blondie sheathes his sword and grabs his bow. With shaky hands, he nocks an arrow and points it at me.
“Hey, man. What the actual fuck?” I stop my advance to give the little asshole an opportunity to calm down. His arm shakes as he holds the arrow pulled back against his neck.
Brown-beard says something else. Why in the hell can I not understand what they are saying? It all sounds like gibberish. Blondie shakes his head. What is this little twerp planning?
Sweat beads on his forehead and he starts speaking fast. I have no idea what he’s saying, but it’s coming out his mouth a mile a minute and he’s shaking worse than ever. The man is having a full-on panic attack.
“Okay, guys. I’m just gonna leave you be. I’ll find my own way to town.”
I turn to leave and the next thing I know, I feel a dull pinch in my left shoulder. Reaching up to see what bit me, I find the shaft of an arrow sticking out of my forest green skin. Dark blue blood trickles down my back.
Not cool, little man. Not cool at all.
I pull the arrow out and toss it to the ground.
The two men are now yelling at each other while Blondie attempts to nock another arrow. His hands shake so badly that he misses the string each time and the arrow falls from his grip.
He finally puts one in place and lets it fly. I swat it from the air like a fly and his eyes go wide. Brown-beard has obviously had enough, because he grabs his belongings and hightails it out of there. Blondie is not so smart.
I run at him full force while he tries to nock another arrow. When I’m a few steps away, he tosses his bow to the ground and draws his sword. He swings at me, but I step back and the blade whistles through the air, inches from my midsection.
Activating Claw, I attack his exposed side and rip through his leather armor with ease. He yells out in pain and slashes at me again, connecting with my shoulder. The blade cuts me, but not as deep as I expect. The wound is not much more than an inconvenient sting. Between the arrow and the cut, Blondie has only managed to drain ten percent of my health. Due to my increased regeneration, it’s already recovering.
He, on the other hand, lost twenty percent from my single attack with the Claw bonus.
We stare at each other for a moment, sizing one another up. I’m stronger, faster, and tougher than this guy, and judging by the panicked expression on his face, he knows it. If his friend had stayed, I might have had a worthy match, but even though he is a level higher than me, I’m a warrior. He’s a ranger. His strengths are in his quickness, and now that I’ve gashed his ribs, he’s not going anywhere.
He attacks me again and I dodge his blow. I have just enough rage to activate Bite. Before Blondie can react, I bypass his guard and sink my tusks into his shoulder. The taste of blood surprises me and I let go. I didn’t expect it to be so lifelike. Silky smooth iron coats my mouth and I attempt to spit it out. This is way too realistic for my taste.
Ow!
A sharp pain flares from my side and I look down to see a large gash running along my ribs. It’s not deep, but it hurts a hell of a lot more than the other two attacks.
I’ve had just about enough of this guy.
“You picked the wrong day, asshole.”
I uproot a nearby tree and swing it at Blondie with all my might. It crushes into him and I hear the crack of broken ribs and branches. He falls to the ground, stunned. It takes him a moment to come to, but when he does, the only thing I see in his eyes is fear.
Taking the tree, I break off the end to where it is the size of a club and walk over to Blondie.
“There’s a saying where I come from,” I say, but there isn’t a hint of recognition on his face. “About picking on someone your own size. It’s usually for when people pick on those smaller than them, but I think it works for you and me too. You should have left with your buddy.”
Blondie doesn’t understand me, but he knows he’s about to die. He lets out a defeated sigh and drops his head. I send him swiftly into the next life.
Warning! You have killed a human NPC. If word of this reaches a human settlement, your reputation among humans will be decreased by 100. Stop the ranger from reaching town before it is too late. Current reputation with humans: -1000. (-1000 Racial Penalty)
You have got to be kidding me.
I quickly loot the belongings of the ranger. His pack is smaller than the satchel I created, but it is well made. I throw it in my satchel, along with the bow, arrows, and sword so that I can examine it better later and see what it holds inside.
Right now, I have a ranger to catch.
7. No Good Deed Goes Unpunished
After looting the body of anything useful and stuffing it in my satchel, I set off in search of the brown-bearded ranger. Due to my increased regeneration, my wounds are already healing at a rapid rate. The sting of the cuts were uncomfortable. I can only imagine what an injury might feel like on someone without my defenses and tough skin.
I scour the area behind the tree where their belongings were. The ranger is light on his feet and there are no traces of which direction he went.
Of course, it had to be a fucking ranger. Why couldn’t it be a lumbering warrior and not this nimble-footed nutsucker? If his stupid friend had just kept his shaky fingers on the damn arrow, I’d be strolling through the forest now instead of worrying about further damaging my reputation with humans. I was expecting a little bit of racism, maybe paying more for goods and not being allowed into certain establishments, but I wasn’t expecting to be attacked on sight for saying a friendly hello.
Really, though, can eleven hundred really be that much worse than one thousand when you’re hated that much?
I’d rather not find out. If there is a chance I can stop him, I need to at least try.
Opening my map while I walk, the most logical location is the town on the edge of the forest. It’s far closer than any of the others, and if he is looking to rat me out, that’ll be his best bet. If I’m going to stop him, I don’t have to track him, I just have to get there before he does.
Apparently, this is a big fucking forest, because, for the next two hours, I only move halfway towards the town. With my high starting stats in Strength, Constitution, and Dexterity, I don’t need to stop for breaks often, but the rumble in my stomach tells me I am getting hungry.
Using Camouflage, I take a moment to blend into the surroundings. As soon as I disappear, the forest comes alive. It finally answers the age-old question, if a tree falls and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound. The forest is full of sounds even when it assumes no one is around.
A rabbit hops out from a burrow beneath an old tree
stump and nibbles on a nearby plant. A swift swing of my club and dinner is ready. I use my sharp claws to remove its fur.
What I have left is slimy, bloody, and not the least bit appetizing. Putting away my human inhibitions, I embrace the troll I am and take a bite. It’s not as off-putting as the ranger’s blood that had filled my mouth. Maybe it’s my new taste buds, but it actually doesn’t taste that bad. It’s more chewy than cooked meat and the tiny bones give it crunch every so often. Almost like eating a pretzel. Thanks to the passive from Savage, I don’t have to worry about getting sick and it looks like I won’t even need to invest in a cooking skill!
My hunger abates, and I feel like I have the energy to keep going for a while. With my stamina replenished, I take off through the forest at full speed.
It is truly amazing how fast and powerful I am. In real life, I was never that great of an athlete. The whole reason I got into esports was because I finally found something I was good at. I joined my school esports league and won the championship the first year I entered. After that, I joined the school team and we traveled for tournaments, playing whatever games were popular that year. It didn’t matter what the games were, I could adapt. I had a natural affinity that most others didn’t, and for once, I felt good about myself. Whatever the challenge was, I could master it. It turns out that the big leagues of esports are a lot different than being the best on your high school team. I tried out for a couple of pro teams, even got an interview, but never made it past that. I met Taryn at one of the tryouts. He was shy and quiet, but he was a damn good player. When he didn’t make the team, I was shocked and asked him to join me as a streaming partner. We’ve been best friends ever since.
Even if I’m not a pro gamer, I’m still a gamer and that means I have a leg up on my competition.
I have to do a double-take when I see something swinging through the trees in the edge of my vision.
Sentenced to Troll Page 4