On and on he went as he led me out of the tavern. I wondered what he meant by “the usual wringers.” A quick combat tutorial? Some early level quests? I itched to get into some action where I didn’t just get torn apart by monsters.
We exited the tavern and went into the streets, and though Malik continued on, I had to pause for a moment to take it all in. People dressed like a Renaissance festival milled up and down the streets, some chatting and leisurely strolling, others stern-faced and quickly walking about their errands. There were shops, houses, taverns, all in the most charming medieval styles. I could feel the possibilities bubbling beneath the surface here, wherever here was.
Actually, figuring out my location was probably a good place to start, if I could ask without NPCs thinking I was crazy.
But the mercenary was getting further and further ahead, so I stopped ogling the sights and ran to catch up.
When I finally caught up with Malik, I’d decided how I was going to do it. “It’s a nice city, isn’t it?”
The rogue snorted. “This? This is shit compared to pretty much any other city. Oh sure, the duke up in his fancy castle enjoys it enough.” Malik gestured to a fairly modest castle (as far as castles go) rising up above the town. “But for people like us, it’s the pits.”
I ground my teeth. I’d been hoping to get him to say the name, but apparently that wasn’t happening. I thought of a different option: surely there was some kind of map feature? But concentrating only brought up a black overlay with a short notification:
Navigation will be unlocked at a future period.
There was no more time to ask. When I glanced over at Malik for another shot at getting the city’s name, I saw we’d drawn a third companion, a young Devalyn boy with dark purple skin like an eggplant. He looked me up and down as we walked. “Who’s the chicken-stick?” he asked.
“Hey,” I said, standing straighter in my new regalia. “Watch who you’re calling chicken-stick.”
The boy eyed me disdainfully. I knew I fully well deserved it. Since my appearance hadn’t changed from real life, I must look a boy in man’s armor. But I’d prove myself soon enough with whatever Malik had in mind. “Who is this kid?” I asked the rogue.
“Tip, meet—” Malik looked sideways at me. “What’s your name again?”
“Marrow.”
“Like what you slurp out of bones?” the elf boy asked.
“I guess.”
He shrugged. “Guess that makes you a sucker.”
“And what’s Tip make you? Unsatisfying to the ladies?”
-1 to Alignment: Moral.
Making fun of kids now. I wasn’t off to a great start. Of course, I felt a lot less repentant when Tip kicked me in the shin and scampered around to Malik’s other side, sticking his tongue out at me.
I tried not to limp, and saw with annoyance that my health meter had taken a slight hit. Stupid kid. “Where are we going, Malik? Anything is good to get me going at this point.”
“Not so fast, Mr. New Guy. That armor’s fresh from the sweat of the last poor sap who died in it. You’ve got a very specific task ahead of you, one of the most vital importance. And this urchin here is going to lead you to it.” Malik clapped Tip on the back. “I, on the other hand—”
“Have a rendezvous with a man, we know,” Tip piped up.
The rogue swatted at the boy, but he was too quick to get hit. “Come back to the tavern when you’ve finished,” Malik said to me. “Then we’ll see what else we can fix you up with.”
“Er, what tavern was that?” I asked, even as Malik was turning away.
“Where we just came from!” the Ignoble said over his shoulder.
Man, that guy really had to start using proper nouns.
As Malik was lost from sight in the crowd, the autumn elf boy grinned mischievously at me. “Can’t leave this one waiting. Better keep a close eye on me. I run fast!”
As Tip took off running, a notification popped up in my vision with a person running on it:
New quest: Race to the Sewers! (Level 1) - Beat Tip to the entrance of the sewers. Last one’s a rotten egg!
Reward: +50 XP and bragging rights against a kid. Won’t you feel proud?
I would love to rub victory in the boy’s face, actually. I bolted after him.
The Devalyn urchin didn’t make it easy on me. As we ran through the streets, he bounded over crates, slid over barrels, and even scaled a wall once in his attempts to lose me. However, it was easy to keep pace. I almost overtook him at one point, but then my stamina bottomed out. I slowed, and it started creeping back up. Looks like I’d need to watch that if I wanted to win.
The elf went through twists and turns, but finally, I saw a grungy wooden door in the floor at the end of an alley up ahead, and I knew we were almost there. Tip was six paces ahead of me, and my meter was 3/4 full, so I easily sprinted out ahead of him. The desperate kid tried tripping me as I passed, but I just gave him an elbow as I passed.
-1 to Alignment: Moral.
What? It was like a ref was constantly watching my every move. But I still beat the kid, so it was worth it.
You’ve completed Race to the Sewers! (Level 1). +50 XP
Tip looked close to crying as he joined me at the sewer entrance. “No fair!” he whined. “You shoved me!”
“You’re a street urchin. Since when has anything been fair for you?”
He instantly threw off the pout. “Whatever.” He shoved past me and stood over what looked like a cellar door. “Get this open.”
Annoyed, I still did as he demanded. A horrible reek like a stew of feces and piss left on the burner greeted me, and I took a quick step back, gagging.
The elf boy grinned wickedly at me. “We’ve got a bit of a giant rat problem. Kill a few of them, and I’m sure the big boss man will appreciate you cleaning up the city.”
The quest prompt popped up soon after:
New quest: The Great Rat-Killer (Level 1) [Noble Ignobles] - Kill 5 giant rats in the sewers of Stalburgh. If rats can’t stop you, nothing can!
Reward: +250 XP (+13 XP), increased alignment bonus with The Noble Ignobles.
There was the city name: Stalburgh! I felt a bit easier knowing that. There was a much heftier XP reward for this one than the race. Plus killing the rats would be good fighting experience. And who knew — maybe the sewers would have some loot, or lead somewhere that did. All I’d have to do is hold my breath the whole time so I didn’t suffocate on the fumes.
“Let’s do this,” I said, then stepped onto the rungs leading down.
“Good luck!” Tip grinned down at me, then slammed the door shut. I wondered if the little bastard had tricked me, but I had gotten a quest prompt. Anyway, there was no going back now.
As soon as I reached the bottom of the ladder, my boots squelching on the damp stone, I knew I’d need some light to see. Fortunately, there was a spell for that! I concentrated on casting Magelight, and from my uplifted palm emerged a glowing blueish ball of light, illuminating about twenty feet in every direction. I guess its maximum illumination distance was impinged by the vapors hanging in the air. It drifted just above my shoulder, lighting my way while not blinding me.
Walking the sewer, I noticed a change to my status, as my health meter was surrounded with a green glow. That couldn’t be good. I figured it must be related to the noxious fumes in the air, and when I concentrated on it, I found out I wasn’t far off:
Status: Nauseous. You are in an area with conditions that reduce the effectiveness of healing from all sources. -20% Healing
Hopefully I wouldn’t need to use my potion here.
It wasn’t long before I heard the scuttle of my first giant rat, and I drew the sword, not wanting the beast to get too close. I remembered all too keenly how that it had felt to be chimera spider meat. I also readied my hand for casting Magic Missiles. From its mana cost, I could cast it three times before my meter was depleted, due to my casting Magelight just before.
The giant rat was maybe three feet long, and gray and ugly as the inside of a dirty oven. It jumped at me, but with a cast of Magic Missiles, all I had to do was hold out my sword and it basically skewered itself.
+50 XP!
Sweet. I also figured there might be something lootable on the rat, like its massive front teeth or something, but there was no way I was sticking my hand in that garbage hole. I moved on, hunting for the rest.
I killed the other four giant rats in the next few minutes, at which point a notification of 5/5 appeared next to the quest overlay. By the end, I hadn’t even been using Magic Missiles, but had been practicing my sword-and-knife play. I wasn’t sure about the whole knife assassin thing at the moment, as getting in so close to my enemy was not as appealing as cutting them down from a few feet away.
It seemed I had to return to Mikal to complete the quest, so since I didn’t find any chests or other loot down in the sewers, I returned to where I’d come down. Crawling up the ladder, I pushed at the cellar door, but it didn’t budge. Great.
“Hey!” I shouted, banging on the door. “Tip! Let me out!”
I heard giggling on the other side, then the scuffling of feet running away. Just as I’d suspected, the elven rascal had trapped me down here.
Sighing, I descended the ladder and started looking for another way out. I’d seen other sewer exits during my rat hunting, but I didn’t know if any of them would be unlocked. What a grind this game was sometimes.
But before I had gone more than a few steps, an overlay popped up over the rest of my screen, looking different from the other ones. A thrill of fear went through me. I'd almost forgotten I was logged in illegally at the game parlor, but it came back with rushing clarity as a call came in from the system, declaring itself as Operator. I decided not to answer. If they were going to boot me from the game, they could do it on their own, thank you very much.
I started running, some part of me desperate not to be logged off in this disgusting sewer of all places. But the Operator didn't relent. This time, a text message popped up in the corner of my screen. Despite myself, I read it as I ran.
Hi there,
Not to alarm you, but we need to talk. Looks like your door tag didn't get slotted properly. If you could come up for a moment, we’ll get it sorted out right away.
Steve
Steve could suck it as far as I was concerned. Still, I concentrated on replying, and an overlay with a microphone icon in the middle appeared for me to dictate a reply.
“Hey Steve, thanks for letting me know. A bit busy right now, but I'll be up when I can.”
I left my name off, hoping this Steve was a pushover.
His reply came a moment later:
Sorry, but I'm going to have to manually eject you. This may not feel good.
A thrill of fear went through me, but still I ignored the message. Was there a block button I could push? If I was going to be booted, I might as well spend my last few moments in my sewers in peace.
But though I expected the world to fall away at any moment, I kept traveling on through the dark passages, occasionally trying off-branching trapdoors that led out. The fourth one I tried finally relented, and I went up through the trapdoor and breathed fresh air again.
But the game wasn't the same, thinking about Steve laboring to get me out of it at every moment. It broke the flow of it all. When was he going to succeed? Why was it taking so long?
My answer came a moment later:
I don't know what you did, but I can't log you out. Don't panic. We’ll get you out soon.
I grinned from ear to ear. Couldn't get me out? What a stroke of luck!
Or I thought it was luck. A small string of doubt began to plague me. Maybe I was really stuck. How long had I been in here? An hour? Two? Three? I’d heard that time in The Everlands was protracted compared to real life. Someone had suggested a ratio of 4-to-1 even, so that four days spent in-game were only one in real life.
Still, my real body had to be getting hungry — hell, my avatar body was getting hungry. How long would it be before it started becoming dangerous?
But I wasn't logging out, not now. More likely than not Steve was just an idiot. I could log off anytime I wanted; all I had to do was think about it and the overlay popped up with the option. So now, I had to put the whole thing from my mind and enjoy whatever time I had left in the Everlands.
Into the Dungeon
It took me a long time and a lot of asking around to reach the tavern where Brandeur and his company were staying, not only because I didn’t know the name of it, but also because my race with that pipsqueak Tip had left me thoroughly lost. Eventually, I did find out the name, due to the rockstar status the Satyr seemed to have. The Golden Goat, apparently — I wondered if the irony had occurred to the merc captain.
I made it to Malik’s room before the rogue left for his rendezvous with his lady. He had curled and oiled his hair, and his collar sported a ridiculous row of ruffles. I leaned at the doorway and cocked an eyebrow at him.
“Shut up,” he said. “I hear Tip let you breathe in the sweet perfume of Stalburgh’s ass.”
Now he used the city name. “I’ll pay the little bastard back later,” I said. “But I completed your task. Five giant rats were no problem.” I’d barely taken any damage even, and I still had enough mana for another round of Magic Missiles.
“Aren’t you mighty?” Malik mocked. “But fair enough. You’re at least competent enough not to stick yourself with the end of that sword on your hip.”
You’ve completed The Giant Rat Killer! +250 XP (+13 XP)
+1 to Alignment: Moral
So my moral alignment didn’t just go down! Apparently helping with a vermin problem qualified as good enough for a bump. God knows I needed it.
“And I suppose public service deserves compensation,” Malik said. “Gotta reward the do-gooders.” He pulled a bag from somewhere and tossed it to me, jingling as it flew through the air. As I caught it, I knew from the weight and jingle of it I had a bag of coins. As I pocketed it, I pulled up my inventory, and the amount was automatically logged there: 50 coins. Nice.
“What’s my next task?” I asked.
“To scram. My date tonight, I need not remind you, is coming up in an hour. I’m not going to get lucky with a low-life nobody lingering around me.”
Rough, but true. Still, I was on a time crunch, and I wanted to advance in the Ignobles’ faction as quickly as possible. Brandeur had to have some good quest lined up. “Come on. There’s got to be some unsavory task you don’t want to get your hands dirty with.”
Malik suddenly looked at me, nervously licking his lips. “Well, as a matter of fact, there might be.” We were alone in his room, but the rogue still looked this way and that before he continued. “As a practice,” he said in a low voice, “we don’t get involved with the faiths. Especially not with the dark ones, even if we might be inclined that way. But it’s looking like it can’t be avoided.”
My excitement grew with every word. “Go on.”
“Well, Brandeur wants me to meet the Night Sisters and solicit their help in a … sensitive task. Thing is, we can’t be seen as associated with them.”
“Why not?”
Malik slapped his forehead, then immediately began making sure he hadn’t messed up his powder. “Gods, I forget you know nothing. The Night Sisters, well — they make sure none of the other faiths gain too much power. That doesn’t make them exactly popular around most folks. However, it seems our interests are aligned at the moment, so we have to take the risk of being caught with them.”
“No problem.” I’d have to work on my sneaking abilities, assuming that was a skill in this game, but that was right up my alley as a dark assassin build.
“Oh one more thing — the Night Sisters aren’t exactly, well, alive. And their temple isn’t exactly, you know, safe.”
A dungeon! I was wondering when we’d get to that. “Not a problem for me.” I thought about flipping m
y knife up into the air, but even in a game, I’d probably just make a fool of myself, if I didn’t chop a finger off altogether
“In that case … I guess it’s up to you.”
New quest: A Rendezvous in the Night (Level 5) [Noble Ignobles] - Approach the Night Sisters covertly and deliver Malik’s message. Guess you have your own nighttime rendezvous with a lady or two, eh?
Reward: +1000 XP (+50 XP), increased alignment with the Noble Ignobles, 150 coins
Not only a better reward, but I knew there’d be good stuff during this quest. All the best loot was in dungeons. But level 5 was a bit of a stretch for a level 1 like me.
“Consider it done,” I said, brimming with confidence.
“Gods help us,” Malik muttered. He turned and shuffled around a drawer for a moment, then produced a scroll from it. “Take this to them. It explains everything.”
I accepted it and moved to leave as he turned back to adjusting his collar in the mirror again. “Oh, by the way,” the rogue said as I opened the door. “You buckled your greaves wrong.”
Oh, I was ready, alright.
I got a pleasant surprise as I stepped out of Malik’s room. An icon that had hovered in the corner of my vision unseen now presented itself as an overlay, the most decorative I’d seen thus far.
You are now Level 2! (+10 Status Points, +4 Attribute Points)
Absalom’s Fate Page 4