The leatherworker’s shop and the butcher didn’t appear to be open yet and my game clock showed the time 8:13, meaning it would probably be too early in the day to start knocking on the doors of people’s homes. I had little choice but to wait. Thankfully, I had a book and there was a large shade tree next to the leatherworker’s shop that looked just about perfect to sit down under.
I don’t know if it was good luck or bad luck, choosing the tree I did, but I couldn’t help but notice an increase in flies as I got closer to the tree and further from the Butcher’s, as well as an increasingly foul stench. I wish I hadn’t decided to try to find the source.
What I found was a dead guard. The only reason I knew it was guard was due to the uniform, though calling the strips of cloth and rent armor a uniform would have been a stretch. I couldn’t even say the man was butchered, as that would imply some kind of skill was used to bring about his death. The man had been eviscerated, his throat was more or less gone, looking as though a large animal had taken a bite out of it. Meanwhile, the chest and stomach were torn right open and appeared to be missing several bits, also apparently eaten by something. I focused on his face, despite being bloody I recognized him. He was the same guard I’d seen on duty the previous morning. It occurred to me, maybe he heard the same thing I did, regarding the trolls being hired. Could that information have got him killed?
It took a minute for me to take my eyes away from the scene. I pulled the smoke beacon from my bag and pulled the string, then tossed it toward the street to signal the other guards.
I knew it would be a few minutes before anyone arrived. I couldn’t help but go back to what was left of the guard’s body, the man’s eyes were wide open, but was it in shock or was it in disbelief . . . agony?
For some reason, I couldn’t stop looking. I also couldn’t stop thinking about the book ‘The Trained Eye’. There was an exercise in it, I couldn’t help thinking about. It talked about seeing a scene and seeing what happened there. It talked about looking at the evidence, at the whole picture. Trying to pick out the details and reconstruct the story. I found myself doing exactly that. Based on the footprints it appeared the guard had been waiting for someone. He’d been pacing a little, but mostly he seemed to be bouncing on his feet in excitement, or was it anticipation, maybe even nervousness?
There was a second set of footprints, booted, possibly armored, they walked up facing the guard. So, the man knew his attacker. There didn’t appear to be any signs of a struggle either. The man’s sword was still in its sheath. Had the guard let himself be killed? Was he poisoned maybe? Paralyzed by a spell? Was there even a way to check those things? I frowned but continued trying to reconstruct the event. The person who met him also took a bite out of him, but how could a man do that? Maybe it wasn’t a man, it could have been a mammalian halfling, a bearman or something similar. It would have to have a very large mouth on it with even sharper teeth.
What else? I could see there were boot prints next to the body, the toes of the boots dug into the ground slightly, the killer crouched down to eat. A small clump of dirt highlighted in my vision next to the boot print, I’d have to ask about the dirt, but I dare not touch it. I know this isn’t the real world, but I’d seen too many shows about crime on TV, I knew well enough to not get too close to the body, lest I become a suspect of the crime. It also occurred to me, I was able to reconstruct the scene partly because I had seen as many so many crime shows, as I have.
“Call out,” called a voice I didn’t recognize. I looked and saw a guardsman by the smoke beacon a short distance away.
“Over here,” I called back, getting his attention.
The guardsman started toward me, freezing when he saw the dead man. He quickly turned away and ran off out of sight. I heard retching a moment later.
“Get ahold of yourself, Watts,” shouted a voice I did recognize.
“Sergeant Butters, over here,” I called to him.
The man jogged over to me, a deeper frown than usual marring his face. There were two more guards just behind him, each paling upon seeing the state of the body.
“Those cursed wolves,” hissed one of the guards with Sergeant Butters, his previous pallor shifting a few shades darker and redder with anger.
“It was not wolves,” said the Sergeant and I at the same time.
“What do you mean it was not wolves?” asked the same guard. “Do you see the state of his body? I have only seen the wolves do something like that.”
“Do you see any paw prints? Also, the mote is just there, and you know well enough the silver essence we lace the mote with prevents the beasts from crossing,” Butters stated, giving his loose mouthed guard a good stare down.
The guard decided to keep his mouth shut, his eyes looking down. Meanwhile, it appeared the other guard was simply trying not to lose his lunch by looking anywhere but at the body.
“What else do you see?” asked Butters, looking at me now.
I relayed my theory to the sergeant, pointing out the various foot traffic patterns also asking him if there was a way to check the body for poison and magic.
“I agree with your reconstruction. We will have to take the remains to Trini to check for poison in and magic on the body,” said Butters about to turn to his men to start barking orders.
“One other thing,” I interrupted him before he could start. “I notice a small spot of rock that looks out of place.” I moved around the body and crouched to point it out.
The sergeant didn’t look the least bit miffed that interrupted him. Instead, he was quick to join me. “Looks like ‘Crystal Sandstone’.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Something not usually found in around these parts. In fact, I can only think of one place around here with any,” said the Sergeant.
“Where?” I asked.
“The ruins,” was his answer.
“Will you and your men investigate?” I asked, hoping to tag along.
“I will send a patrol to check them for any recent activity, but I would not hold my breath. Those ruins are little more than a few large stones and partial walls,” he answered. “Unfortunately, that sandstone could have been left by anyone.” He sighed and stood from the crouch and moved back to his men. He started ordering them about, while I thought about his answer.
Quest Alert: Missing in Action 1 – Completed!
Guard Davies has gone missing under suspicious circumstances. Help the garrison locate the missing guard. Activate the green smoke beacon if you find the missing soldier.
Reward: +500 Experience
I was glad for the experience, but it was not how would have preferred to gain it.
Quest Alert: Missing in Action 2 (Recommended Level 4-6)
Guard Davies has been murdered. Details at the scene suggest the murderer is somehow related to the nearby ruins. There are also several questions that must be answered to progress the investigation. Meet Sergeant Butters at the Hurligville Temple at Noon.
Reward: Experience, Variable Piece of Gear
Do you accept this Quest?
Yes
No
How could I not?
“Meet me at the temple at midday bell,” said Butters, finally returning to my side. “I figure you will want to hear Trini’s report, same as me.”
I nodded my ascent. I know it was wrong to even let the thought cross my mind, given just how gruesome this particular quest line was starting out, but this was fun. I was surrounded by mystery and an awesome quest line with good rewards. It was pointing me toward the ruins, the very thing that drew me to this province in the first place. I was also learning all kinds of skills and given the flashing exclamation points at the bottom of my user interface (UI), I may have just learned another. I was having fun and part of me felt guilty . . . but only a very small tiny bit, like a microscopic bit. I also wasn’t as bothered by the corpse as I probably should have been, probably because I knew this was just a game. It was an AI that had been
killed and would be recycled into another NPC. At least, that’s what I told myself.
“I’ll see you then,” I said to Butters. I was careful to walk around the guards, so they could focus on the task at hand. I certainly didn’t envy them for the job ahead.
Leaving the scene behind, I decided it was probably time to do a little shopping. I had a feeling I would be needing just a little bit stronger gear, sooner rather than later. Plus, I hadn’t done much exploring around town yet, so I was probably overdue.
Chapter 9
My walk took me back past the barracks and townhall and back down the main street. I came across the blacksmiths first. I could see the small forge was open to the elements and a rotund dwarf was busy hammering away on a block of orange glowing metal, probably copper or tin, as was to be expected from a starter province.
“Afternoon,” I greeted the dwarf.
Without looking up he stated plainly, “Unless you are here to learn to be a blacksmith, I suggest you head inside the shop and speak to the missus.”
“Will do, thank you. I’m Bye-Bye by the way,” I introduced myself to him. The more I explored the game the more I found getting to know the citizens paid off.
“Kirlan Dunkirk,” the Dwarf replied, still not looking up from his hammering. “You here for training then?”
“No, sir, just thought it wise to meet the town blacksmith,” I replied.
“Right, nice to meet you. Now, if you would let me get back to work, the wife will take care of you inside,” he stated gruffly, a slight Scottish brogue coming out in his voice at the end. It was a common trope or stereotype, Dwarves speak with such an accent. I was initially surprised he didn’t when we first started talking. So, either the game was trying to meet my expectation of an accent, or there was a backstory, one in which the smith had worked hard to get rid of it altogether.
“Nice to meet you too,” I replied before turning toward the shop. There was a little bell chime, as I entered the shop.
The blacksmith’s shop was bright and filled with natural light, much different than I would have thought a typical blacksmith’s shop would look. In most games, they were dark and dingy, filled with soot and dirt and rank of sweat and something burning. This shop was spotless and smelled of wildflowers . . . wildflowers and steel, but still a considerable upgrade from what I had expected.
“Good morning,” said a high-pitched voice, drawing my attention to the counter. There was a female gnome standing at the counter. I hadn’t seen a gnome in the game yet, but I’d seen a few artist renderings from the game's website. They were typically around three to four feet tall, neither slim nor plump, looking mostly human, except for rounder heads and larger noses. They also typically sported interesting hair choices, this little lady had short and curly green hair with a pair of up-curls in front that could have easily been mistaken for horns.
“Good morning, Kirlan directed me inside,” I said, hoping this was his wife.
“Sorry if me husband was gruff with you. He is a big teddy bear once you get to know him,” she replied, also letting a slight Scottish brogue creep into her voice. That was not something normal for gnomes, or at least not in the common tropes.
“It’s no problem, but now I have a question that may be considered odd. I couldn’t help but here something of an accent in your voice and your husbands too, can I ask why?”
“What an odd thing to ask,” she said, then giggled a little. “Honestly, I probably picked it up from him. You should have heard his accent when we first met, thicker than tar. But I suppose we’ve both been around humans and each other so long most of his accent is gone though I may have picked up a little of his along the way too.”
“Interesting,” I replied. It was interesting. There was so much effort put into constructing the citizens, I couldn’t help but be impressed every time, especially with such diversity in their backgrounds.
“I suppose it is,” she replied, a fond smile on her diminutive face. “Now, how can I help you today?”
“I am considering replacing my spear and shield,” I replied. I would maybe get a small upgrade if the price was right, but I didn’t have a great deal of money to go spending willy-nilly.
“What level are you?”
Her question caught me off-guard. I hadn’t been asked about my level before, I suppose because my level didn’t matter for any of the things I was learning, and the quests were all within a certain range, so they weren’t necessarily concerned with my level either. But this was about gear and gear had a level requirement at times.
“I’m level 4,” I answered.
“Okay then, I have got a few level 3 spears and shields,” she replied, walking through the door to the back of the shop. I finally looked around again at the shop. There were several sets of armor and even weapons and shields on display covering most of the shop, but there was one wall covered in rifles and pistols. I walked straight to the guns to sate my curiosity. They were all from level 1 to level 8 at the highest. However, any interest I may have had in them died when I saw the cheapest one cost 5-gold.
“Oh, found my little ones, did you?” asked the gnome, returning to the front room and setting down 4 spears and 3 shields on the countertop.
“Little ones?” I asked. I assumed she meant the weapons, but it seemed politer to ask.
“Yeah, I am a gunsmith, you know?” she asked, smiling proudly.
I took a closer look at her
“Do you sell many? They seem . . . uh . . . expensive,” I was trying to be delicate but there aren’t many good ways to bring up the cost.
“Of course, those are,” she said. “Those are my best works, all of them top quality and enhanced with stat boosts. The cheapest there gives +2 Dexterity and has a faster reload speed.”
Ah, that explained it. As I looked around the room, I assumed everything on display was their higher end equipment which explained why she went into the back room to get me stuff to look at. Did she just assume I was poor? Or was it just typical for a level 4 to have such a low amount of money?
“Anyway, come have a look. These are all pretty basic, but they are solid enough and a good upgrade from the piece of junk you’ve got now.”
I looked at my spear and then looked at the ones she set on the counter. There was a pretty big difference between them, simply from the visible sheen on the spears she set out, versus the dulled and chipped appearance of my own spear. I suppose I hadn’t bothered to have my spear or shield maintained. They did look rather beat-up, but they were just starter gear pieces, so I supposed I hadn’t considered spending the money to maintain them.
“I mean, do you even have a whetstone to keep the blade maintained?” she asked.
“I do not,” I answered hesitantly. “I’ve only been here 4 days so . . . I guess I haven’t gotten to it yet.”
“Not to worry, I will let it go this time, but if you ever come in here again with a weapon that has not at least been maintained, I will kick you right back out and will not let you return,” she stated matter-of-factly.
“Understood,” I replied. Then a thought occurred to me, I had no idea how to maintain a weapon. “Umm, I don’t know how to maintain a weapon. Or a shield either.”
“I suppose I can teach you but only if you buy. I am not teaching no freeloaders around here,” she said with a stern look on her face.
“Deal! Now,
let’s take a look at my options,” I replied happily. I didn’t actually want to spend money today to buy a new spear or even a shield, but the chance to learn how to maintain my gear, even a little bit, was worth it.
The four spears were all the same price but had different capabilities from damage to attack speed.
Pike
A pole weapon, a very long thrusting spear formerly used extensively by infantry. Two-Handed, Base Attack Speed 2.40 – Two-Handed Weapon Damage 14-19 – Durability 15/15
Assegai
A pole weapon used for throwing, usually a light spear made of wood with a pointed fire-hardened tip. Throwing Speed 3.00 – Ranged Damage 30-40 – Durability 5/5
Hasta
A pole weapon consisting of a shaft, usually of wood with a pointed head. One-Handed Base Attack Speed 2.20 – One-Handed Weapon Damage 7-8 – Two-Handed Base Attack Speed 1.80 – Two-Handed Weapon Damage 14-16 – Durability 15/15
Boar Spear
A pole weapon that is relatively short and heavy and has two wings on the spear socket behind the blade. One-Handed Base Attack Speed 2.8 – One-Handed Weapon Damage 9-11 – Two-Handed Base Attack Speed 2.40 – Two-Handed Weapon Damage 18-22 – Durability 20/20
I knocked off the Assegai immediately, I had no interest in a throwing spear or any ranged weapon at all. If I was going to fight from range, I had magic. I also eliminated the Pike, as it was for two hands only. In the future, I might want a weapon for two-handed and one for one-handed only, but for now, versatility was more important to me. The choice was between the Hasta and the Boar Spear. As much as the higher damage from the Boar Spear was nice, it was just too slow. The Hasta was the better choice and for 1-Silver, it certainly should have been.
“I’ll have to go with the Hasta,” I stated, picking it up, testing the balance versus my old weapon.
The Curse of Hurlig Ridge_World Tree Online_1st Dive Page 15