by Brent Roth
“The stone statue over yonder,” I replied with a wink of my left eye and a slight tilt of my head in the same direction. “I’m curious, is she a regular around these parts?”
Leaning his head in with a quickly changing expression, the old man hesitated for a second before deciding on his reply. “She’s been a regular for about a month now,” he explained with a hushed voice that could barely be heard over the music and multiple conversations going on in the background.
“Lost her family on the voyage, poor gal.”
Setting his hands on the table while maintaining his lean, he sighed briefly before putting in his last word.
“Best leave that one be lad, she’s a troubled soul.”
“Ah is that so,” I said softly while thinking over my options. “Thank you.”
An NPC that lost her family on a voyage nearly a month ago in game days while at the same time, kraken-types were roaming the seas and reportedly had been attacking ships that passed through. Maybe it was me, but I smelled a quest chain for a Companion.
The game was odd like that, with its random system that allowed NPCs to develop organically. Nearly all the NPCs started out with the same base template but with randomized attributes and appearances left to separate them apart. After that they were free to roam the world so long as they weren’t tied down to a specific job. If by chance that NPC died or experienced something in-game that changed its course, the opportunity for it to go on its own path existed.
Some of the events were slightly scripted but most weren’t. Katherine was supposed to die and become part of a Quest Chain for the Earl of Andal. Selene’s future was undetermined and unknown. Then I got involved, killed the Earl, and changed the fate of the NPCs involved. Now Andal had no earl and was ruled by a loose republic or democracy of sorts. The quest chain never materialized this time around.
The game state changed.
It evolved.
Now an NPC sat off to the side clearly at a loss due to her loss. The plausible story being that a giant squid attacked her ship and her family was lost in the fray. As a survivor she now sat at the table where her family should have been. Waiting and wasting the days away for a scene that will never come. Her situation was not to be envied.
She was either a normal NPC that wasn’t tied down to a job or village, a free recruit as some have noted on the forums, or she was a Companion with attributes that were far above the standard NPCs. Since there wasn’t a whole lot known about Companions with the game only being a few months old, most of the general ideas were simple speculation.
There were theories floating about that any regular NPC could be elevated to a Companion if you spent the requisite time developing them. I wasn’t sure if that was the case myself but it warranted a look.
Astrid was one such candidate, and so too was Eindride, Ansgar, Enok, Roald, Havardr, Sigsteinn, Soren, Stigr, and the whole lot of others that had developed into something more than your average NPC. This game was extremely complex and there were still too many questions to which there were no answers.
This was a real-to-life fantasy simulator of epic proportions.
And so, I was convinced that this physically imposing female was something special. Watching the barkeep walk off, I opened my browser and began to search the net for any clues to Bergenheim and the strange NPC.
The results were small in number but immediate and concise for my purposes. The first few posts were about a strange NPC that refused to talk to anyone, one that happened to fit the description of the solemn female.
The latter posts only served to reconfirm the earlier submissions.
She had been here for a little over a week in real time and about twenty players had posted about attempting to interact with her and failing. They believed her to be a Companion as well. A Companion or a Quest Chain, at the very least.
I would happily take either.
Waving down the barkeep again, it was time to put my plan into motion. My Reputation stat preceded me and raised my importance to random NPCs to the point where they were generally friendlier. There was no shame in abusing that.
“Two meals and drink,” I ordered from the old man as he looked at me with an odd expression. “I’ll let you decide on the type but preferably a gamey meat, no fish.”
“Lad you’ve already had a meal, now you want two more?” he asked as his face turned to a grin, realization setting in. “So you wish to try the lost soul huh, well I won’t stop you.”
Letting a grin of my own slip through, I simply nodded as I moved and headed over towards the table of the lone woman. Standing by the edge of the table, I placed my hand on the tip of the empty seat across from her. Giving her plenty of space, her attention had shifted slightly as she looked up at me with dead eyes.
“May I join you?” I asked clearly but kindly.
“…” was her reply as she turned away, resuming her empty stare at the wall.
Sitting down with little care for her lack of acceptance or invitation, I turned my seat slightly so as not to be directly in her line of sight. With an arm placed to rest on the edge of the table, a shift of my posture let me watch the audience and the live band without being too much of a nuisance.
After a few minutes of silence between us had passed, the food finally arrived and was placed down at the center of the table for us to divide as we saw fit. The dish closest to her was a rabbit stew with potatoes while the one closest to me appeared to be a roasted lamb shank with a vegetable medley.
I could practically smell the garlic, cumin, and honey that was used to season the lamb as my mouth began to water. Not bothering to actually turn my head, I eyed the food out of the corner of my eye. Using my peripheral vision to watch the lady’s reaction, it was obvious that she was interested in the lamb shank sitting before her.
Letting the food sit, it wasn’t until the mead was brought that I finally turned to face my dinner companion and met her gaze. She was hungry, that much was easy to tell. The coin purse on the side of her belt was rather small and could hardly contain enough coin to last another month at the current rates of the inn.
The cost of meals being considered, it was obvious that she was stretching her budget to last through the winter. Well, it didn’t take a genius to figure that she wouldn’t actually make it but I wasn’t going to tell her that.
In fact I wasn’t going to tell her anything.
Pushing the lamb dish away from me and letting it stop in front of her, I also slid one of the cups of mead over to her side and left it there without a word. Lifting the rabbit stew and setting it at my edge of the table, I began to eat in silence.
Ten minutes had passed by and my stomach was now beyond full.
Ready to burst at the seams, I left the remaining mead where it was and looked around the room. The lady on the other side of the table had resisted the tempting meal as it began to cool and lose its wonderful aroma. Realizing that the unsociable girl was reluctant to accept the handout while I was still sitting there, I stood up with a nod in her direction and headed towards the stairs.
My goal wasn’t to force a conversation before the opposite party was ready. She was hungry and thirsty but not in the mood to talk. That was fine with me, eventually she would warm up. That was my bet for now… like a stray, wary yet starving, cautious to approach but willing to risk it all in a moment’s weakness to acquire what it needs.
In time, the stray will grow accustomed to you.
Then one day, the stray might let you touch it and from there, the relationship is to be decided by the parties involved. Once the door was opened and the trust was built, it was only a matter of time. That was for animals of course.
People were animals though.
At least in my mind, we were all animals.
Heading up the stairs it was time to call it a night. Roald had entered the bar not more than five minutes before which meant the trades were successful. Everything that needed to be done in this port town had now been taken ca
re of.
Retiring early in the night wasn’t a bad idea anyways for tomorrow was the second raid on FWB. Adequate rest and a clear mind would be necessary for the mission as we were operating with far fewer numbers this time around.
Two crack teams, five members each. Two sailors and a trader onboard. Plus a slightly crazy MC. It was going to be a good day, I could tell.
Vengeance was in the air.
I could smell it.
Chapter 83: The Raid Pt. 2
(Saturday, December 4th Game Day / Saturday, April 24th Real Day)
Shadows in the moonlight
for a little while more,
the ocean breeze
would soon carry us ashore.
Yet to make way
for the morning rays,
here I play
with melodic phrase.
Humming and drumming
for the second coming,
it was prime time
for a consonant rhyme.
Yet with nothing more
to save me from a snore,
I found it a chore,
to not be a bore.
“Ahhh,” I whispered to myself as I stared out at the moon.
Lying with back against pack onboard ship, the darkness of the early morning had done little to relieve me of my boredom. The doldrums out on the open ocean with nary a thing to do had taken its toll, with my mind strained from its attempt to entertain itself.
After all, all save for Eindride were lost to the dream.
Less I be lost to it too, the necessity for rudimentary rhymes to keep my mind afloat had arisen in this murky sea of inactivity. These calm moments before the storm seemed to be of too regular an occurrence as we had become numb to the transition. Waiting only for the light to switch us from the dream state to an active one, we were the definition of seasoned… far too experienced.
Far too relaxed.
The mission had lost all sense of tension.
Thankfully the sun was no more than a minute away as it would soon peek out over the eastern mountain range’s ridges and give us its greetings. Seldom did one shy away from the light, even if it would give us away on the horizon. The end result would be the same regardless for the second raid was unlike the first.
The second coming was less a raid than it was a drive-by. There would be no need to stop the ship this time around. There was hardly even reason to disembark. Save for the defenses that had been planted along the water’s edge in order to halt our advance, FWB’s defenses were considerably lackluster. They prepared for a second attack, shored up their weaknesses by blocking their shores.
Downed trees piled high at the coastal edge of the premises, denying any river passage either in or out so long as one came from the sea. Then there was the secondary log pile formed on the eastern side, but that one failed to measure up to the western ocean wall.
Sitting inside their homes, behind their walls with an obstructed river that would prove difficult to pass, they believed in the security that the daylight permitted them. What they had failed to realize though, was that logs were easy to move.
We were experienced log-movers.
And I was an excellent swimmer.
Turning up the mouth of the river some ten miles south of FWB’s location, we would utilize the network of interconnecting rivers to circle back towards the east and then north until we reached the desired path. A detour of maybe an hour at most, the alternate route provided us with a westerly course that would carry us straight through the village and out into the open ocean with no need to slow or halt our pace.
The trees along the river bend would also serve to mask our ship’s presence until the signal was raised. This was the second raid and this raid would be carried out during the daylight hours. If my timing and planning played out, it would be primetime… noon on a Saturday morning. High-activity time, filled with the majority of the guild’s members.
This was a daring raid.
Yeah, this was my raid.
The snowy white fields and forests along the way showed little signs of life as we passed on by, silent except for the soft creaking of the wooden oars rubbing on their oar holes. Careful not to disturb anything more out of practice than of necessity, we continued on as we watched the occasional rabbit poke its head up in curiosity.
Basking in the warmth of the morning sunlight, we took the time to stretch our legs and eat our fill of the specialty hardtack that we brought with us. Thankfully the ones we picked up from the port town weren’t quite as rock-hard as they could have been and were made with salted pork, onion, whey, barley, and wheat.
At least, that’s what I was told by the man selling them.
Still a hard chew, they were at least somewhat tasty and the flavor did seem to represent the ingredients listed. An affordable meal replacement that would last us days, weeks, or months if needed. Certainly far better than standard hardtack for long voyages, have that a few times and one starts to appreciate the basic meals all the more.
And then by the time we had all finished our meals the time had come to put the next step of the plan into motion. Coming to a complete stop, we beached the ship by the edge of the forest line and checked twice to ensure that the ship remained successfully concealed. Beyond the trees and less than two miles to the west was our destination.
The target was there.
As I began to undress with only a pair of primitive Dark Age trousers serving as my swimming trunks, I couldn’t help but notice the small trail of smoke coming from the center of the village. Most likely the village’s bonfire… it would soon be joined by one more trail. Utilizing [Keen Sight] I could clearly see at least a dozen players walking about around the outskirts of the village, busy bodies no doubt working on some project.
They would have to be monitored as I made my way but they were few enough in number and relatively far from the river that I wasn’t discouraged. So long as they weren’t in the river or on it, then I would be fine.
Nodding at the men as I was ready to proceed, I rolled backwards off the boat and into the relatively shallow icy waters of the slow moving river with ease. Hitting the water sent a shock throughout my body as the air nearly escaped my lungs in reaction but with the clock already burning I ignored it and began my two-mile swim.
Keeping my body roughly parallel with the waterline but slightly below it with the majority of my head under water as well, I stayed in the sidestroke position as I utilized scissor kicks along with it. Only breaking the surface of the water partially with my face to breathe, the combat swimmer stroke offered an excellent combination of speed and stealth in addition to being less taxing on the body in terms of distance and effort.
Using a breaststroke to cross the two mile distance was out of the question, seeing how it involved much larger muscle groups in both the chest and back. The amount of energy that stroke required was probably at least double that of the CSS. Freestyle on the other hand was faster but was hardly stealthy with all of the splashing and that was the last thing that I needed.
My objective was to reach the edge of the village undetected in the middle of the day with the sun shining directly above. The center of the river was relatively deep and dark at around eight feet and allowed me an opportunity to dive if by chance an enemy combatant happened to wander nearby.
Roughly twenty feet across at its widest, this river was actually of fairly good size as well. That meant the logs blocking our path would most likely be full-sized trees, possibly cut down to size but probably not.
Gliding through the water on rough four-counts with the current aiding me the entire way, the nearly two-mile swim took less than thirty minutes as I began to slow my pace. Having neared the village sooner than expected, I kept my body underwater while risking a peek at the surrounding players.
Thirty feet out from the village walls, two players or NPCs were fishing along the shore while the rest of the roamers had stayed by the outskirts, assembling what looked to be a tower.
Without a shadow to hide under, the only option going forward was to dive to the murkier bottom and hope that the fishermen weren’t staring directly at my path.
Taking a deep breath and diving towards the bottom, I turned face-up as my back gently brushed against the relatively smooth rocks that littered the riverbed. Eyes blurred by the water and the refracting sunlight that lightly pierced through it, I remained still as the current pushed me along.
Watching for the shadows of the two men, a fishing hook brushed against my shoulder as the current pushed me downstream and away from the danger. Ten feet past the fishermen, I slowly ascended to the surface to take a breath and began to survey the location once more.
Fifteen feet away sat a pile of logs, easily thirty feet across with an end on either end of the riverbank. It was a simple structure of round logs laid down on top of another as a way to bar entry. A literal bar across the water’s surface, as the underside was left unobstructed. The river passed freely beneath the logs and only boats were denied.
Voices could be heard all around me as I quietly inspected the logs to try and figure out the best way to disable or remove them. Then the thought occurred to me that the best way would be the natural way. Far too many in number to pick up individually and carry without being noticed, all one had to do was shift them slightly and wait for them to fall into the river. If rolled properly, they would simply float downstream.
We used this method to move logs in the North, as they do in real life much the same. A simple method that could be carried out by one superhuman individual.
That was the plan for now, at least for the eastern wall.
Ducking under the logs and moving inside the village while staying as low as I possibly could, I swam along the bottom of the river to the other side and began to inspect the ocean wall that they had assembled.
This one was far larger but had been constructed in the same fashion with little holding it together except for two logs angled sideways as a brace, letting the weight of the logs that had been piled on top of each other in a pyramid fashion take care of the rest.