The Curse of Hurlig Ridge_World Tree Online_1st Dive

by M. A. Carlson

  “That boy, I swear . . . sorry, you had to witness that little bit of family drama. The boy has been such a . . . he’s been struggling since his father went missing,” the woman explained.

  “Oh, when did his father go missing?” I asked perking up. I know a prompt, one possibly leading to a quest when I hear one.

  “About two weeks ago, I am sad to say. He should have long returned from Root City with more cloth by now,” she answered, wringing her hands in her apron.

  “Maybe he just got delayed,” I tried to give her a little hope.

  “I’m afraid bandits are more likely. They are notorious for setting up ambushes near the portal. They grab merchants on the way to or from Root City. I believe my husband was one of them,” she explained.

  “I would be happy to look into it?” I offered.

  “Oh, I could not trouble you with this, you are supposed to be my customer, and here I am blathering on,” the woman said, trying to redirect the conversation, despite the worry on her face and the start of tears at the corners of her eyes.

  “Ma’am, I am a priest in service to the Goddess Issara, this is kind of my job. Please let me help you,” I gently insisted.

  “Thank you, you’re too kind,” she said, a few tears running free now.

  Quest Alert: Find the Missing Taylor (Recommended Level 4-6)

  Mrs. Taylor has requested your help in finding her missing husband.

  Reward: Experience, Clothing

  “I’m happy to help. But, I’m afraid I’ll have to look into it tomorrow, it will soon be dark.”

  “I do understand. Thank you again, so very much. Now, how can I help you? I don’t imagine you came in here just hear my sad little story.”

  “I was hoping to pick up another shirt, a pair of pants and I also want to check out your socks,” I answered.

  “Of course, do you know what kind of quality you’re looking for?” she asked.

  “The burlap shirt and pants matching what I have now, are fine . . . well, maybe something a little nicer. I could do without the itch. And for the socks, the best quality you’ve got,” I answered. There have been a great many war movies, many of them suggested one thing as being more important than anything else, socks. Comfortable, dry, clean socks. Now granted, I was currently wearing sandals, but soon enough, I am sure I will end up in boots or some other kind of footwear, and I will want socks when that day comes.

  “Any preferred colors?” she asked.

  “White for the shirt, pants maybe brown or black,” I answered.

  “Okay then, I’ll be right back with a small selection for you,” she said, turning and bustling quickly into the back room. Only to trundle back out moments later with a stack of boxes taller than she was, all perfectly balanced. She set the stack of boxes on the counter, then split the stack into three smaller stacks.

  “Shirts, pants and socks, all tailored to fit on purchase,” Mrs. Taylor said, pointing at each stack in turn with the socks stack being a solitary box. I appreciated the tailored to fit part, it was good detail and a way to explain how everything fit the players.

  I started with the stack of shirt boxes, opening the first box.

  “Lowest quality on top, highest on the bottom,” she added without being asked.

  I felt the material, it felt the same as the shirt I was wearing now. “How much?” I needed a frame of reference.

  “5-Copper for that one, 5-Silver for the highest grade. Pants start at 8-Copper and end at 8-Silver. For the socks you said you wanted the highest quality, they start at 1-Silver per pair,” she explained the sorting and price range.

  With the pricing in mind, I knew I didn’t need the highest quality shirt or pants but somewhere in the middle should suffice without being too expensive.

  So, I pulled the box from the middle of the stack and opened it. This shirt was the same long-sleeve design, thankfully without any decorative flourishes, like a few of the shirts on display. The material was soft, not silky, but a considerable upgrade from my current shirt.

  “How much for this one?” I asked, holding up the middle-grade shirt for her to see.

  “1-Silver,” she answered, waiting patiently as I went through the boxes.

  “Okay, I’ll take this one then,” I said with finality. I didn’t want to be tempted by trying a higher quality shirt.

  I checked the pants next, the thickness and quality were much the same, but I didn’t particularly care for them, or the pants I wore now. “Do you have anything tougher?” I asked, realizing then, I was really looking for something more similar to a pair of modern jeans.

  “Certainly,” Mrs. Taylor said, quickly collecting the boxes and returning to the back only to come back a minute later with just two boxes. “These are slightly more durable, all cotton though. Hope they will do.”

  I hoped it would. When I opened the box, I was beyond pleased, they were jeans. No zipper, a button-fly, and thick stitched seams. It was probably as close to jeans as I would be able to find in the World Tree, and best of all, they were designed to be worn beneath any armor I might wear eventually. “Two pairs please,” I said a little too eagerly.

  Mrs. Taylor just chuckled a little and grinned. “4-Silver per pair,” she warned me. Already this shopping trip had cost me 9-Silver and with even one pair of socks, my total price tag hit 1-Gold.

  “That’s fine,” I said, I honestly hoped to never have to buy another pair of pants again but having two pairs was probably a good idea, this way I could send one to be washed and wear the other. Which made me realize I should do the same for the shirt. “Can I get another of the same shirt too, but in black instead of white?” Variety wouldn’t hurt.

  “Of course,” she agreed.

  The socks were plain, no designs, stripes or patterns, but they were made of the softest silk I had ever touched. I selected two pairs in white and two pairs in black. My total bill came out to 1-Gold, 4-Silver with my discount from my Local Hero title. It hurt to pay, but it was worth it if I never had to bother with buying clothes again.

  “I promise, I’ll look into your husband’s disappearance tomorrow. I’ll bring you answers,” I said, reassuring her once more before I left the shop.

  It was a decent walk to the leatherworker’s shop. However, just being near here, reminded me of Guard Davies’ gruesome murder. As if the reminder of the murder wasn’t enough, the shop was still closed. It was disappointing. I would have to come back tomorrow.

  With a sigh, I turned back and began my return to the inn.

  After a quick trip to my room for a clean towel and to select the pants and shirt I wished to wear, I was off for a quick shower before dinner.

  Stepping out of the bathroom, I felt more at home than I had since I came to this game world. I was surprised by how much difference, a new shirt and a pair of pants made to my comfort level.

  “Evening,” I greeted Micaela and Olaf, joining them by the fire.

  “Bye-bye,” cheered Micaela in her normal pixyish manner.

  “Evening mate,” greeted Olaf.

  “I love the new threads, very posh,” complimented Micaela.

  “I don’t know how fashionable they are, but they are so comfortable,” I replied, feeling content at the moment. “I didn’t realize how much I missed jeans until now.”

  “Yeah, Olaf and I were so happy to get the denim overalls a while back. We’re probably due for some clothes too, at least something to wear outside the mine.”

  “Oh joy, more shopping,” added Olaf, his voice as flat as possible.

  Micaela just rolled her one eye and shook her head a little, a light laugh included.

  “How was the mine today?” I asked.

  “Boring,” said Olaf, pouting. “Ever since I got all those subskills, the challenge has gone out of it.”

  “Didn’t you say there was another mining area, that valley I discovered? Why not try it out?” I asked.

  “I suppose I could give it a shot,” said Olaf, rubbing his ch
in thoughtfully. “Anyway, business for another day. How did your adventures go?”

  “Interesting,” I replied.

  “Interesting, are we?” asked a voice I was coming to dread.

  “No, I said my day was interesting,” I rebutted.

  “And meeting us was part of your day, therefore, interesting,” Rose countered.

  She had me. “Whatever you say,” I said, not exactly a concession, but close enough.

  “Anyway, I met this . . . woman and her adorable sister,” I said pointing roughly at Rose and giving as cute a wave as I could stomach, towards Babies Breath.

  “And just what is that supposed to mean?” demanded Rose.

  “Why does it have to mean anything?” I asked, the start of a smirk forming at the corner of my mouth, turnabout was fair play. “Are you not a woman?”

  Rose narrowed her eyes, choosing not to dignify that with a response.

  Now that the battle of wits had ended, I had a chance to take in the dark-elf woman, and she was still, quite possibly, the most beautiful woman I had ever seen, especially now, she was wearing a white sundress and sandals. It was a simple look, but very attractive.

  “Bye-bye, introduce us to your new friends,” said Micaela, grinning.

  Something in Micaela’s grin made me uncomfortable. Trying to ignore the grin, I introduced my new acquaintances.

  “The super cute one is Babies Breath, doesn’t she have a great name?” I asked, purposely ignoring Rose, seeing her hackles rise a little. “The less cute one is Rose Thorns, she’s just as the name suggests . . . prickly.”

  “Jack, keep pushing me, I dare you,” warned Rose.

  “Ooh, I like her,” said Olaf, grinning, his eye seemed to dance with laughter.

  “Bye-bye, I’m so proud,” said Micaela, wiping away a fake tear. “You met not one but two women. They grow up so fast, don’t they babe?”

  “That they do my love, that they do. So, how did you meet?” asked Olaf.

  Yeah, this would not end in my favor, I could already feel the deck-stacking against me.

  “It’s nice to meet you both,” said Babies Breath, ignoring the tension between Rose and I. “Bye-bye, said you were good people, he spoke very highly of you, so I hope we can become your friends as well.”

  “Leave it to my big Sis to put things right after Jack’s lame intro,” added Rose.

  It seemed Micaela finally noticed Babies Breath was a fairy. Queue the room shaking ‘Squee’, it also nearly destroyed my hearing.

  “Oh my god, she is so cute!” gushed Micaela.

  Baby blushed and pouted, her big introduction just got wiped away, mostly due to the overabundance of adorable.

  Rose and I both just laughed heartily as Olaf had to hold Micaela back from glomping the Fairy and accidentally squashing her.

  Tension seemed to defuse after that and we began chatting amicably, even Rose and I, though both of us kept poking at each other, now it was more in fun than with the intent to irritate the other.

  “Okay, so we’ve all eaten and had a few drinks, now I do believe you owe us an explanation,” said Rose, looking at me intently.

  “Oh, which explanation is that?” asked Micaela, sending a chill of worry down my spine. “The one where he found awesome skill trainers and skill books, or the one where he single-handedly defeated a PK army?”

  If you hear a loud slapping sound at this point, it’s me burying my face in my hands.

  “Honestly, Mic, you’ve got to think before you speak, babe,” said Olaf, shaking his head in slight disbelief.

  “We wanted to know about the NPC’s, but now, all of that too,” said Baby, leaning forward in her chair slightly, an eager gleam in her eyes.

  “She’s drunk, made it all up,” I stated, straight-faced as possible.

  “Don’t even try it, Jack. Start spilling,” said Rose, calling me on my poor lie.

  “Okay, it’s getting late so, I’ll tell you about one, you pick,” I offered, trying to placate them at least for the moment.

  I had to wait a minute for Rose and Baby to converse in hushed tones.

  “NPC’s,” Baby finally said with a firm nod.

  “So cute!” shouted Micaela again.

  “Will she ever stop doing that?” asked Baby, looking to Olaf pleadingly.

  “Eventually, the trick is to find something to distract her,” said Olaf, part joking, but I was sure there was more than a little truth to it. I made a mental note of it for the future.

  “I’m not sure what you want me to tell you about the Citizens,” I started, wanting to get this over with as soon as possible.

  “Start with how you can have a conversation with them,” ordered Baby.

  “You just talk to them like you and I are talking now. I guess I would start by saying hello, introducing myself, maybe asking a question or two. Getting to know them as I would anyone,” I started.

  “Yeah, but . . . they answer you? Like, if you ask them about their families or their likes and dislikes, they will actually respond?” asked Baby.

  “Sure, why wouldn’t they?” I answered.

  “They are computer programs, just simple A.I.’s, right?” asked Baby.

  “A.I. yes, simple, absolutely not. They are each unique in their own way. From what I’ve encountered and seen, there is no preset programming to any of the Citizens. As far as they know, this is the only world that exists, and they each have their own part to play,” I replied.

  “That is so weird,” said Baby, I could hear the astonishment in her voice.

  “I will say, I did notice early on, the NPC’s communication was choppy. For example, they’d give me a quest, then abruptly end the conversation and walk away, almost as if they expected me to do the same. I have also noticed the conversation quality has steadily improved as the various A.I. learn from the interactions,” I added.

  “So, you can still just ask for a quest?” asked Rose.

  “You can, but there is no guarantee they will give you one. There are a couple of factors I believe influence them, from what I can tell anyway. Most important is Charisma, the stat gives a baseline for the interaction, if it’s above a certain level, you have a chance to get a quest. Today at the tailor’s shop, I was talking with the shop owner about her moody teenage son. Then she mentioned her husband went missing on a routine trip to Root City. A little more probing, and she also mentioned bandits tend to set up ambushes near the portal. They attack merchants on their way to buy or on their way back from selling. Naturally, I offered to help, and she issued the quest to find her missing husband,” I elaborated.

  “Which reminds me, tomorrow, after you get your hand-cannons, want to join me for this quest?” I asked, looking at Olaf.

  “Maybe, it depends on how quickly I can get the base skill training with the sergeant. If everything goes well, then I’m definitely in,” he replied.

  “Good,” I said before turning back to Babies Breath and Rose Thorns, waiting to see how they would react. “Anyway, that’s the best I can explain it.”

  Baby whistled in appreciation. “I must be an idiot . . . heck, every one of the players I’ve encountered since I started playing, must be an idiot.”

  “Yeah, said the same thing a few times myself,” said Olaf, nodding his agreement. “Ever since Mic and I started chumming around with Bye-bye, we’ve gotten mixed up in all kinds of interesting adventures and unique opportunities. The things Mic mentioned are only the biggest things so far. For example, I’m an Ogre Artillery at level 4, only because Bye-bye treated the NPC like a person, and guilted her into treating me like a person, instead of just another ogre.”

  “First, I have to apologize, I thought the worst of you both without knowing you, everything I’ve read about the ogre race, made you seem stupid and evil, killing players and NPC’s, senselessly. I’m sorry,” Rose apologized, looking contrite. “Second, say what? I thought you had to be level 30 or something crazy to become an Ogre Artillery, then do some really h
einous stuff too?”

  “So, did I, but here I am, and tomorrow I get my first hand-cannons,” boasted Olaf proudly.

  “False information?” asked Babies Breath.

  “We think so,” said Micaela. “I’m a shaman, for which there is a bunch of information, but most of it lies. The procedure the forums describe would let me become a witch doctor, which would completely ruin my character as it is an Intellect class. There is so much misinformation out there, it’s not even funny.”

  “Oh, I hope that isn’t true,” said Baby, suddenly looking to her sister with worry.

  “Why? What did you do?” I asked curiously.

  Rose sighed, then groaned in frustration. “I want to become a Blood Knight. It’s an advanced warrior class, only available to vampires and half-vampires.”

  “I didn’t even know vampire was a playable race,” I said, blinking in surprise.

  “It’s not. You can only be turned into a vampire or half-vampire,” Rose explained

  “How does that work?” I asked, ever the curious one.

  “So, there is a guy who goes by the name of Vlad Tepes on the forums. He posts most of the information on vampires in the World Tree. He said, when he was around level 40, he got a quest to clear out a vampire nest but got overwhelmed. They drained him to just 1-HP. He claimed, he got an offer to join them or die. He had a chance to become the first vampire in the game, so of course, he took it. He became a Blood Knight. Since then, there have a been a few others, claiming to have become vampires, in the same way, some becoming Blood Mages, Blood Assassins or Blood Knights. They said it was possible for half-vampires too,” Rose explained.

  “How does one become a half-vampire?” I asked.

  “You drink pure vampire blood,” Rose answered. “My sister was awesome enough to get me a vial. It was pretty expensive too. Anyway, you get most of their strengths and only a few of their weaknesses. So, I’m stronger and faster than a pure dark elf would be, and I supposedly get access to Blood magic but have yet to find a spell. Also, Blood magic is considered Dark magic, which I get a bonus too as a dark-elf. Other than that, I don’t care for the sun much, and I am weaker to Holy magic. I won’t get wrecked in the way a pure vampire would, but I would still take a significant bit of extra damage. Now I have to wonder if the guy was lying to everyone. This is so unfair. Becoming a half-vampire was both gross and painful, and now it may have been for nothing.”