Lion's Quest: Undefeated: A LitRPG Saga

by Michael-Scott Earle

  That was another oddity about Zarra’s game: there were no heads up display or user interface. I couldn’t see a time or date counter on the corner of my vision. I didn’t see my hit point or magic meter. I didn’t even see a way to open my inventory. Maybe they were trying to go ultra real, and they expected players to carry their equipment in actual packs. It was a risky move for sure since a lot of players wanted to suspend an aspect of real life when they played. They didn’t want to feel like they were encumbered by the gear or treasure that they picked up, and inventory management was something that Astafar Unlimited had kind of done away with.

  I picked a direction to walk and threaded my way through the closely nestled trees. My passage disturbed a family of squirrels, and the rodents took to the trees with a twitter of over exaggerated anger. I paused my walk to stare at the creatures. They had leopard-like spots on their brown fur, and their tails were way longer than I would have expected. As I watched, one of them reached out its tail to the branch above. The limb wrapped around the tree and lifted the creature while it snickered at me.

  “Funny,” I said with a laugh. It was little creatures like these squirrels that would make a lot of players fall in love with the game world. There was a huge subculture of pet collectors in Astafar Unlimited, and they would go to great lengths in order to acquire and train their virtual pets. There was even a competitive side of the game, but it wasn’t as popular as the World Series, and I had never really competed in that aspect.

  I soon reached the edge of the grove of trees. The spot sat on a bit of a hill, and I was able to survey the land. I was again impressed by the graphics of the game. The light from the sun was a beautiful yellowish color, and its rays seemed to warm my shoulders when it fell on me. The sky was a dark blue, and there was a large purple planet with an orange Saturn looking ring sitting on the horizon. I thought it was a cool touch, but a lot of gamers really wanted a traditional fantasy environment, and I guessed that they would think the near sitting planet would make the scenery too science fiction feeling.

  My eyes took in the field around me again. It looked like a standard setting of long wheat colored grass. The stands came up to my waist, and I ran my hands over some of the tips. They tickled my palms, and a breeze made the field sway like it was a blonde ocean.

  “Wow, so pretty.” It felt weird to talk to myself, but I guessed that Zarra and her team would be able to hear me. I bet she was probably smirking like the cat that ate the canary right about now, and I knew I’d hear her say ‘I told you so’ a few dozen times when I dined with her parents tonight.

  The fields stretched for miles in each direction I could see, but I did notice that I appeared to be in a valley. I couldn’t see past the group of trees behind me, but in the other three directions, I saw the steep angles of large mountains. The tallest grouping had some snow on top of the teeth, but all three ranges looked impressive. They had a dark gray, brown, and purple hue to the distant rocks, and it definitely made me feel as if I was in a unique fantasy world.

  There was a distant plume of smoke drifting where the horizon of the mountains met the sway of the fields, and I spotted the city that Zarra had mentioned. The beautiful woman had also said that it was about a half mile away, but it appeared to be twice that distance. Then again, I didn’t quite know if my vision was measuring the correct distance in the game environment.

  I walked through the field toward the distant plume of smoke. The individual blades of grass slid across my legs and arms, and I couldn’t wipe the damn smile off of my face. It just felt so real. I didn’t know how Zarra’s team had been able to program all of this, and I almost wanted to logout right now so that I could talk with her.

  After a few minutes of wading through the grass field, I noticed a dirt road cutting through on my right side. I made a direct line there and was soon walking on the wagon wide path toward the town. The dirt had evidence of wheel tracks and hoof prints that might have been made during rain. It didn’t look like it was a simple graphical texture, and I kicked some of the dirt with my toe. The edge of a raised part crumpled off, and I was able to stamp it down into place over a dent to change the texture of the road. It was a nice touch that I think most players would love, but I wondered how much resources their graphic engine was going to consume. You could make small changes in Astafar Unlimited, like cutting grass, or trees, or breaking walls, but the map would fade back into place after a few hours. The ‘feature’ was real to provide relief to the game’s engines, and a lot of gamers didn’t like that they were unable to permanently change the game world. Then again, I’d just stamped the road flat, and it might revert back to its original texture in a few minutes. I would have to ask Zarra how it all worked over dinner.

  I continued my walk on the road for another minute, and then I heard the sound of a horse behind me. I stepped off the road and turned to see a mule drawn wagon bouncing down the path. The vehicle was moving about three times my walking speed, and I noticed that the animal had a pair of curved horns on its head so that it resembled a ram-mule creature.

  “Hi,” I said as I waved to the driver. The man sat on the wagon bench and held leather reins in his hand.

  “Greetings, whoa,” he pulled on the reins and slowed the beast that pulled his wagon. It still reminded me of a donkey because of its big ears and squat stance. “You heading into town?” the man asked once the wagon stopped. His face was covered by a wide hat, and I couldn’t really see his shape under the large western style duster that he wore.

  “Yeah, I was just walking there now.”

  “Walking there? You don’t have any packs? Where are you from?” His accent sounded strange. Like a New Zealand accent, but the vowel sounds were shorter.

  “I just arrived. Starting out in the game. I don’t see your health bar above your head. Are you an NPC?” I smirked as I talked.

  “NPC? Starting out? You are a strange one. Do you have any weapons?” He asked with a careful nod. I had guessed that the man would ignore my reference to a non-player character.

  “Nope. There wasn’t one in the chest. They told me not to get in any fights for my first session.”

  “Ahh, that makes no sense at all, but if you promise not to speak anymore crazy talk, I’ll let ya ride with me into town.” He patted the bench next to him.

  “That is nice of you. Thank you,” I said as I climbed up the wagon.

  The bench had some springs on the bottom of it to give it a suspension, but the wood where my ass sat wasn’t that comfortable, and I felt the jarring of the wagon through my teeth when the man cracked his reins. This VRIU was absolutely incredible.

  “What is the name of this town we are heading toward?” I asked him after we’d been moving for a handful of seconds.

  “Cutno,” the man laughed “you are a strange one huh?”

  “Yep. How many NPC--people live there?” I asked.

  “Grrrr about six thousand. Maybe less.” He had made a growling noise before he spoke, but it didn’t sound hostile. It was more like he was clearing his throat.

  “Are there any quests for adventures?”

  “Ha! So you are an adventurer?” He bobbed his hat covered head as he chuckled.

  “That’s the dream, isn’t it? Help people, slay monsters, get loot and more power. Then become the hero of the world.” I smiled at the man after I spoke. This was an NPC conversation that was remarkable. Arnacript’s AI writing for their NPCs was rather amazing, and I didn’t know how it was creating such a fluid response. This almost felt like a real conversation.

  “There is always work to be had. The news bulletin will have jobs for all types,” he said.

  “What types are there?” I asked. Zarra had been coy when she’d spoken about the game, and I wanted to know more about the classes available to me in the world. I guessed that I would have to find a trainer so that I could pick one. Would I be able to pick multiple classes?

  “Types?”

  “Yes, classes of advent
urers. Like warriors, or mages. What type of professions are there?”

  “You mean magic? Grrrr, I suppose most are Body. I can do a little bit of it myself. Helps when I need to lift my goods into the wagon.” He gestured with a thumb behind him, and I picked out the shape of boxes under a canvas blanket.

  “What kind of goods are you selling?”

  “Spices. I’ve traveled from Arnicoal.” He paused after he spoke, and I wondered if he thought I should be impressed.

  “How far away is Arnicoal?”

  “Grrr, you’ve never heard of Arnicoal?” He turned away from his donkey to gaze at me, and I saw that his eyes looked like a cat’s. There were a bright green and had an oval pupil.

  “Sorry friend. As I said before, I just arrived here. I don’t know much of anything,” I admitted.

  “Grrr, and your accent is all weird. Good thing we are only in Cutno. If we were in Arnicoal, they would think you were some sort of country bumpkin, even though I’ve never heard country folk speak like you do.”

  “I come from one of the largest cities in my land,” I chuckled at the covered man.

  “Where is that?”

  “New York City! Ever heard of it?”

  “Can’t say that I have, and I am well traveled. As I said, you are a strange one, but you seem likable enough.”

  “Thanks, friend. I didn’t get your name earlier.”

  “Artus Osher, is my name. Of the Osher trade clan,” he said proudly.

  “Nice to meet you, Artus. I’m Leo Lennox.” I held out my hand toward the man, and he glanced down at my fingers.

  “I’ve not heard of the Lennox clan. Grrr,” he said as he cautiously held his clothe-wrapped hand out like mine.

  “There aren’t many of us.” I completed the handshake, and his eyes opened with surprise.

  “Why are you touching my hand?” he asked.

  “It’s a handshake. People do it when they first meet each other.”

  “Leo, you know I am fenia? I’m surprised you are touching me. Not that I mind, but your kind normally doesn't like my kind.”

  “I don’t know what a fenia is, Artus, but I like you,” I smiled at the man.

  “Ha. Well, okay.” He let go of my hand and then pointed a wrapped finger down the road. “We approach the gates of Cutno.”

  I followed his fingers and saw the city. There was an eight foot stone wall around the vast perimeter. I couldn’t see much past its walls other than a large keep that sat on a hill in the middle. It seemed pretty standard fantasy fare, and I was somewhat unimpressed with the visual, but that was probably because everything else in the game had blown me away.

  “You should be careful at the gate, friend Leo. The town is somewhat unreceptive of newcomers. Grrrr, perhaps you shouldn’t speak to them as you spoke to me? They might be confused. I know I am,” Artus said.

  “That’s good to know. Although, I am surprised a starter town wouldn’t welcome new adventurers. Seems like it would create a negative first impression for new players.”

  “You mentioned you were looking for work?” the man asked.

  “Yes! Do you know of any quests?” I asked. The gates were about a hundred yards away now, and I could see a pair of guards wearing chain mail and holding spears at the entrance.

  “I need someone to help me unload my wares and load up my other trade goods. I’ll pay you a few coppers, and if you don’t have a place to sleep tonight, you can curl up here,” he said as he patted the bench we rode on.

  “That is a great offer! I’ll probably be going back home at night, but I will gladly help you with your boxes,” I said.

  “Excellennnnnt,” he kind of growled at the end of the word, and I noticed that some orange fur was poking through the wrapping around his neck area.

  “Has it been three months already, Artus?” one of the guards called out as we approached.

  “Geelant, is that you? Ha! Looks like your beard is finally coming in,” my new friend waved as he stopped the animal that pulled on his wagon.

  “Yep. Haha,” the guard laughed and stroked his beard with the hand that wasn't holding onto his spear. The two men were human, and they seemed happy to see Artus.

  “Who is with you?” the other guard asked somewhat suspiciously.

  “He is Leo, of the Lennox clan. Grrrrr,” Artus introduced me. “He’s helping me unload my boxes.”

  “Ahhh. Be careful. Halafast’s son is still around,” the second guard said.

  “I don’t want any trouble. I’m a businessman. I just want to sell my spices and move on.”

  “Ehhh, you know that isn’t how it works. After you had left last time, Kimmel was going around to all the bars saying that you didn’t pay your taxes.”

  “I always pay my trade taxes. I just didn’t pay him his ‘protection fee.’ He’s an asshole.”

  “Yeah, but, once he finds out you are back in town, he might come visit you,” one of the guards said.

  “How would he find out I’m back?” Artus asked, and the two guards looked at each other with a shrug.

  “Ahhh, come on guys. Grrrrr,” my friend’s words sounded slightly annoyed.

  “It’s just dang hot out here in the sun. I’m really looking forward to a beer at the end of the day,” the second guard said.

  “If our friend were to buy us a round, I’d quickly forget that he was in town,” Geelant said with a shrug.

  “Grrr, you two. Fine. Here,” Artus reached into his coat pocket and threw each one a coin.

  I watched the exchange with more than a little interest. This NPC dialogue was crazy. I’d never been in a game where the conversation sounded so real. I kind of wanted to step in, and tell the guards that they couldn’t extort my friend, but I was more interested to see how the actual shakedown went down. Then I wondered if my inaction would be judged by the game’s AI as dishonorable. It might think my character’s alignment was evil or self-serving, and maybe it would begin to adjust the encounters so that I faced darker quests. I didn’t see any display or user interface hints as to what I should do, and I realized that I was kind of lost without some of the usual quest remarks. I’d have to bring it up with Zarra when I returned.

  “Thanks for the beer, fenia,” the second guard said. Then he spit on the ground and gestured for us to enter the city.

  “What was that all about?” I asked as we cleared the gates and moved past the guards hearing range.

  “Usual treatment for my kind. Grrr. Joke’s on them, though. I had a silver ready for each of them, and they took copper. Ha!” Artus let out a growl-laugh, and then he angled his wagon into the main thoroughfare of the city.

  The buildings and roads inside the walls reminded me of one of those old-timey German or Dutch medieval designs. There were a lot of squat stone homes supported by thick wood beams, thatched roofs, and decorative architecture. It was quaint bordering on beautiful, and I found something fun to look at in almost every direction I turned.

  The citizens were the best part. They were mostly human, but I noticed a few elves and dwarves. They walked through the city streets with purpose, nodded to each other as they passed one another, exchanged pleasantries, and only gave a passing glance at our cart. Some of them carried baskets; others carried tools, but most were moving as if they had a destination in mind.

  Cutno felt like a real city.

  Cities I would find in Astafar Unlimited felt like a traditional video game environment. Yes, there were NPC citizens, but they seemed to mill around the buildings, streets, and stores without real purpose. Some of them would occasionally have a conversation with another NPC, but it was a canned exchange, and I’d spent so many years of my life playing the game, I had all the scripted lines of the various characters memorized.

  The NPCs in other games were just there for environmental flavor, and they served no other purpose than to make the players feel as if the world were pretending to be alive.

  Ohlavar Quest felt alive everywhere.

&nb
sp; The game’s AI was beyond extraordinary. I almost wanted to log out right now, and then congratulate Zarra on blowing my mind, but I wanted to keep playing more, and I was starting to understand the gleeful looks that the patients had made earlier when they talked about the game. It was easy to see how someone could get addicted to a world like this.

  Our small wagon passed a group of three guards walking the other direction on the cobblestone street, and Artus turned away a bit and seemed to sink into his seat. They glanced at us briefly as they walked by, but I didn’t get a feeling that they were interested in harassing us. The exchange made me shake my head with a smile. This was like real fucking life, only I was in a video game. I was actually reading the faces of the NPCs to try and figure out what they would do. Absolutely amazing.

  “Arrrr right Leo, here is the place.” Artus turned the wagon down a narrower side street. The path could probably fit another cart the same size as my friend’s in its width, but it appeared that the cobblestones were beginning to angle upward, and I saw more of the castle in the distance.

  “Jerjay’s shop. They have the first shipment. Can you keep an eye on the merchandise? I’ll go in and let him know it is here.”

  “You got it,” I said as I leapt from the wagon’s bench.

  Artus walked with a strange looking gait, and he entered into the door of a shop. There was a hanging wood sign over the door that read: “Jerjay’s cooking supply.”

  I stood by the back corner of the wagon and amused myself by watching the NPCs walk on the main avenue. Every few minutes one would turn the corner and walk up my street. I greeted each one as they passed me, they each returned my greeting with a smile, and they all had very unique features. Different clothes, hats, shoes, faces, stances. It was remarkable.

  “Alright Jer, I’ve got four crates. We’ll carry them in for you,” my friend said as he exited the store with a short human man.

  “Thanks, Artus.” The human’s cheeks were a rosy red, and his apron was covered with what looked like cooking oil.