The Weirdest Noob

by Arthur Stone

  “I’d love to get some level boosting items, if I only had some money.”

  “You won’t see Greedie selling anything of the sort—he only deals in small stuff, to keep busy rather than to earn any serious money. You can only buy this stuff in towns and cities—it’s much harder to come across in villages, for example. Or, if you’re lucky, maybe a mob will drop something.”

  “Do they drop that kind of stuff rarely?”

  “Fairly frequently, actually. But those things are in real high demand—after all, most of the players are simple workers like us. Everybody needs something of that sort.”

  “What would be more expensive—to pay for an expanded account, or to collect a few items with a level bonus?”

  “Hard to say—it depends on your luck. I got this level-bonus bracelet for a few pennies—some noob offered to sell it without realizing its true cost. However, with a full account you can actually raise your level, whereas items merely add a level while you wear them.”

  “So, what’s the difference? It’s not like it’s hard to wear these things.”

  “The thing is that once you raise your level, you get five undistributed primary base stat points. Every ten levels give you an undistributed secondary stat point, and every twenty-five levels, an auxiliary stat point—also undistributed.”

  “Why are there so many primary stat points and so few of the rest? The primary ones are the most valuable, after all.”

  “That’s how you see it, being a noob. As things stand, they’re the easiest to level up. But try leveling up something like the Jewelry skill. You’ll have to waste a bunch of gems—all your unsuccessful attempts will produce useless sand. This will cost you loads of money, and you’ll only start making a profit once your level is high enough, which takes a lot of time and effort to achieve. Even among top guilds, high-level jewelers are a rarity—that’s how expensive it is to develop that skill.”

  “I could really do with some extra primary stat points.”

  “Sure, in your case it makes total sense. Remove the lock and you’ll be able to level up properly.”

  “I don’t have that much money.”

  “How much do you pay per month?”

  “A little under two hundred bucks.”

  “Even players with expanded accounts don’t turn their noses up at mining—however, you won’t see many of them in a mine like this. A simple gamer’s package costs three hundred—the difference isn’t that great. Get one for a month. You can go all the way up to level ten—the lock won’t let you go any higher. You’ll get fifty points for those levels, and you’ll be able to set your character’s stats right.”

  “I can’t get in touch with my attorney from here.”

  “You have an attorney of your own?! You’re one posh noob, then.”

  “Not exactly of my own… I tried to send him a message, but he’s been silent.”

  “The attorney’s character must be in some city, and you’re in County Nowhere. There are no couriers next to the mine, and chats don’t work here, either. Mail’s unavailable, too. So your best bet is to get in touch with him IRL.”

  Ros felt reluctant to inform Pup of the low likelihood of getting in touch IRL, to put it mildly, so he decided to change the topic.

  “My Mining & Quarrying stat has finally unlocked. The description says it gets easier to mine for ore as it increases.”

  “That’s how it works—you deal more damage to the resource.”

  “It also says other resources become available.”

  “Sure. Ever been in a situation when you finish chipping away at a vein, but get no drop?”

  “A couple of times.”

  “If you try harvesting iron, this will happen every other time, or, perhaps, even more often. Your Mining & Quarrying stat has to be equal to—or higher than—the level of the resource that you mine for. Copper is level one, which is why you can work it with virtually no problems.”

  “If I raise my Mining & Quarrying stat to 20, will I still be able to harvest copper, or will it ‘break’ like the loot carried by mobs?”

  “Nah, ore doesn’t behave like a mob. You won’t be able to ‘break’ copper even if you raise your Mining & Quarrying stat to a hundred. On the contrary, you’ll have fewer failed attempts. But you’re unlikely to level up that skill here. You’d need around ten thousand lumps of copper ore to reach level five, and the same amount once again to reach level six, since your Mining & Quarrying stat will exceed the level of copper considerably by then. Level six to level seven will take you twenty-five thousand lumps, and it gets worse from there. If you don’t switch to other resources, which yield more, you’ll get stuck for good at eight or nine. Getting another point would take you years.”

  “Listen, Pup, there’s something I just don’t get—why do we mine for this ore in the first place?”

  “Come again?”

  “Well, what do they pay us for? It’s mindless, monotonous labor that generates nothing but digits.”

  “We produce a useful resource—that’s what they pay for, not our labor.”

  “But why do we produce it in the first place?”

  “Copper is used for making all kinds of things, and it is also a component of alloys such as bronze. Jewelry, armor, clothing and equipment elements, bells, cheap arrowheads, dinnerware, and all sorts of things. Including cannons.”

  “Cannons?”

  “Yeah. Initially, the game was conceived as a sword and sorcery world, but then some enterprising folk developed the craft of molding cannons. They use some alchemical crap for power, and every cannon weighs a couple of tons. You can’t make them any lighter, for they have to contain the protective structure that prevents the enemy’s fire mages from detonating the charge remotely. Such weapons are employed for clan castle defense. Not particularly useful, but really prestigious.”

  “I see. You mean the game’s economy is made to resemble the real kind as much as possible?”

  “It doesn’t just resemble it—it’s every bit as real. The difference is that here you can see every characteristic expressed as a numerical value. It is much harder to do this IRL, and it doesn’t apply to every object there. There are four hundred million players and few million NPCs, or maybe more—it’s not like anyone counts them, anyway. Well, you get it. The demand is so high that all of us miners work like plantation slaves, and copper doesn’t get any cheaper. High-level resources only grow in value, since there are too few crafters with levels high enough to harvest them.”

  “Crafters?”

  “Workers. Just like you and me. Only you need a much higher Mining & Quarrying level for higher-level resources. Good defenses matter, too. So, top-level crafters always have expensive accounts. The clan takes care of everything they need, and protect them when they level up and harvest resources. The more high-level crafters a clan has, the stronger it is economically.”

  “I used to play flight simulators, so I have some idea of what a clan is.”

  “Flight simulators? Well, aren’t you a joker!”

  “I’m being serious… Listen, Pup, you’re no noob yourself, you seem to know a lot, and you’ve explained everything to me really well. So why do you work here and not in some better place?”

  “Ah well, I kinda got myself in a mess…”

  “What exactly happened?”

  “Oh, it’s a long story, and a rather boring one to boot. Now I’m waiting for the forum threads with my name in them to get archived. Serious clans even check the archives when they sign a contract with you, but it should be possible for me to join a more unprepossessing group of players in a month or two. But you, Ros, are an easy target. There’s no profit in dealing with you here, but in other places you should really stay alert all the times and trust no one. Everyone will smile to your face while plotting something nasty behind your back. In that world, the competition is cutthroat.”

  “Well, you and me are competitors here, aren’t we?”

  “Here? Don’
t make me laugh, Ros. There’s no competition in mining copper—there’s a lot of it, and demand is always high. It’s impossible to make any real money harvesting it—silver ore is where you can start expecting a profit. This means your Mining & Quarrying stat has to be 17 or higher—otherwise there’s no point in so much as approaching that kind of mine. Right, I’m off to get some work done with my pickaxe. I advise you to do the same. And drop this rat business already—it’s boring, time-consuming, and not very profitable. Your best bet is to pay an extra hundred for your account—you’ll easily level up to ten over the course of a month, and then you can switch back to your old package. Half the earned stat points will be frozen by penalties, but you’ll still have the other half, which you will then be able to distribute the way you like. That’s the only way. Or you could do a heroic deed.”

  “A heroic deed?”

  “Yeah, like killing a raid boss on your own. Har har! Or, at the very least, you could raise your Mining & Quarrying stat to the max and become the first crafter to harvest some high-level resource which had previously only been looted off mobs. Every player’s chat window worldwide will show the corresponding message, the level lock will drop, and you’ll receive a bunch of useful stuff to boot.”

  “Is that free?”

  “Sure.”

  “Didn’t know such a thing was possible…”

  “Well, have you ever made love to a reigning queen?”

  “Can’t say that I have.”

  “You might as well try—it would be a much easier feat to accomplish.”

  Chapter 10

  This time Ros noticed the nocturnal beast before it managed to deal him a deadly blow in the back. Some revolting thing looking like an overgrown plucked chicken with unseemly appendages in place of wings was hopping along the gallery enthusiastically. It seemed to get its bearings from the sound of the pickaxe tapping the rock.

  “Mine Pter. Aggression: highest. Sociality: low. Level: hidden. Skills: hidden. Stats: hidden.”

  For some reason, the information was displayed in a bright red font. Ros suspected this to be the result of the monster’s high level—a kind of warning for any player that might come across it.

  Except he wasn’t going to heed it.

  “Sic’ em, Templeton!”

  The rat, programmed to obey a voice command, obediently lunged itself at the enemy, who intercepted it with a strike of its massive beak.

  “Your summoned creature dies.”

  The rat never even managed to bite the monster once. Farewell, Templeton, you did a fine job for one day.

  “Never give up, never surrender!” cried Ros, swinging his pickaxe to hit the monster that rushed him, and painlessly entering the familiar darkness, to be shortly replaced by the stone circle, the frozen dwarves, and Greedie’s grin.

  “You hit the Mine Pter for 1 point of damage. The Mine Pter hits you for 62 damage. The Mine Pter kills you. You are resurrected at your current respawn point: miner settlement next to the Ravenas mine, Rallia Province. The current owner is the Sword Power guild. Attention: this is a dangerous zone. There is high likelihood of aggressive actions from monsters and players. It is not recommended to place your bind points in dangerous zones.”

  “And here I was thinking I wouldn’t have the pleasure of seeing you here today,” said Greedie.

  “Why was the damage so low?” asked an outraged Ros.

  “What exactly do you mean, noobster?”

  “When I hit a rat this hard, I hit it for eight point of damage at least. And this bastard only took one.”

  “Let me guess—you got eaten by something large, with red lettering over its head?”

  “Yup. A Mine Pter.”

  “That’s one tough beast, and an extremely bothersome one, too. Levels fifteen and on. I can snuff one of those with a single hit, two hits maximum. You, however, barely manage to get through its defenses with your noobish pickaxe. Also, your stats are all screwed up.”

  “I need a better weapon.”

  “And I could do with a beauty queen to keep my bed warm. Seen any around?”

  “Don’t be so tightfisted, Greedie. I’ve slaved away all day long, and killed about thirty rats besides.”

  “According to your token, you only got 84 lumps of ore—this includes yesterday’s harvest, I think. You need to bring back around a hundred and fifty if you don’t want to run up a debt.”

  “Whoever thought of such insane quotas?!”

  “Competent authorities.”

  “Greedie, your mine is the worst in the world—everyone knows that.”

  “Oh please, you haven’t seen any of the real bad ones yet.”

  “That’s what I hear.”

  “It’s easier to wag your tongue than to swing a spade around.”

  “I got a bunch of stuff from the rats, and I’ll end up selling everything to you at rip-off rates. I’d kill them much quicker with a proper weapon. And I could level up my stats a bit, too.”

  “You’re forgetting the fact that you’re a level zero player.”

  “So?”

  “Well, I have an interesting axe in my vaults—deals six to nine slashing damage, and adds a point to Strength and Vigor each.”

  “Sounds like the axe of my dreams.”

  “Sure does. However, it comes with a requirement: you must be level three or higher to wield it.”

  “Does that mean I won’t be able to pick it up?”

  “You will. But the penalties will be up the wazoo. You can easily hit you own foot instead of the mob, or even your dumb head. The requirement is there for a reason. If you want bigger guns, get rid of that lock. Zero-level players can’t even handle a decent pickaxe.”

  “There’s no way for me to get rid of it!”

  “Well, how’s that my fault?”

  “Damn, Greedie, I’m really stuck here! I have no idea what to do now. I thought I might level up my Strength with those rats, but it’s been two days now, and it’s hasn’t grown by a single full point.”

  “What’s your Strength stat?”

  “Ten.”

  “God almighty! How did you manage to distribute your stats like that?”

  “I’m a noob; I admit it.”

  “You’re an idiot who can’t count.”

  “What’s math have to do with it?”

  “Rats are usually level one or two—you don’t see many that are stronger. I haven’t seen any over level five, but they’re huge and tough bastards, and you won’t be able to handle one of those, most likely. The difference between the mob’s level and your Strength stat is substantial, which is why your stat doesn’t grow by much.”

  “Are there any places here with level three or four mobs?”

  “Why don’t you go looking for them? You’ll keep me amused with your regular respawning as you play Dora the explorer.”

  “Just the same, is there a chance of getting something better than my pickaxe?”

  “Lad, your pickaxe is a miner’s tool and not a weapon. Use it the way it’s meant to be used, and you’ll be much happier.”

  “I can’t shake off this feeling that you have some nice present for me, Greedie—something much better than a pickaxe.”

  “Start fulfilling your quota and pay off your debt first, and then you can tell me all about your feelings.”

  “With a proper weapon I’d pay off my debt much faster. I would also be able to harvest more ore.”

  “You will harvest more if you stop hanging out in remote galleries. Your skewed stats won’t let you carry much ore—I don’t think you can even fill up half that bag of yours, can you?”

  “Well, there are ten lumps per slot—of course I can’t fill it up.”

  “You could if you were a bit brighter. High-level crafters have bags with hundreds of slots, and even that can be insufficient at times. No one’s doing your work for you while you walk to the cart and back.”

  “But it’s dangerous to have many miners work together due to rockfa
ll hazard. There also isn’t much ore in galleries with many workers. So, sure, I try to get some distance between myself and the carts.”

  “Once the ore depletes in one area, new veins appear in another.”

  “There’s a lot more ore in the galleries further back, though.”

  “The same is true of rats, which you appear to love so dearly. Get to bed already, I’m sick of your noobery.”

  “Look, Greedie, you have a fire burning over there—I saw firewood and kindling next to it. Could I have a look for long and hard branches? I need them for something important.”

  “Take whatever you like, just leave me the hell alone.”

  * * *

  It took Ros a long time to sort through the branches in order to find the best ones. The two guards at the gate paid no attention to him and didn’t even ask him what he was doing right next to the gate.

  It would be great to venture out into the woods and cut down a few thick and dependable tree trunks instead of these crooked branches—if someone could let him out, that is.

  Ros ended up observing a neat trick when he tried to place the poles in his bag. They fit in just fine, regardless of the size, disappearing from his hands as he placed them inside. Each pole occupied three slots, however, and two of the largest ones, four slots each. They took up lots of space.

  But it wasn’t for long, anyway.

  It was time to start relying on his wit. He’d had enough of dying from the fangs and even beaks of computer-modeled beasts.

  Chapter 11

  Ros wandered through the galleries for a long time, avoiding the rats he’d meet as much as possible. He needed a place where he could work for a couple of hours. He could make his stand there just before evening and wait for guests, having prepared his position in advance.