“Let’s try!” the dwarf said, having read the brief description. “Share! Don’t think it’s gonna be super difficult. One thing, though, we’ll have to head out right now. It takes at least an hour to get there, and we ain’t got any mounts.”
“An hour?! Can we get there any sooner?” I asked surprised. “Can’t we use a teleport or something?”
“What did you expect? This is the SPHERE!” Flame laughed. “If you complete a quest in two or three days, that’s considered good. The quests are hard, and the distances are great—just like in real life.”
We left the city though the northern, Small gate. The road, a broad primer with a distinct rut left by a multitude of wagons, meandered, led northward, toward the mountains rising above the horizon, shrouded in a hazy mist. As I walked, I peeked at my companions.
Valkyrie’s black hair was cast in a deep purple hue, and her impeccable face was exquisitely beautiful. Her husband’s light-green tattoo with a vegetative motif that spread from his neck onto the left cheek, faded around the side of his head. I didn’t think his tattoo complimented his appearance, the opposite in fact. Together with his bright green eyes, at first glance, it created the impression of an alien which was a little frightening. His wife was dressed in a hunting suit—a light, half-cuirass, skin-tight leather pants and high laced boots. A big, black bow and a quiver full of arrows hung over her shoulder and a long dagger, placed in a sheath was attached to the belt.
Flame, broad-shouldered, with a red, double braid, was her opposite. He was carrying a whole arsenal. Besides the stuffed backpack, belt bag, a large tower-shield, a bundle of torches, a short shovel, a double-bladed ax, a wide sword, and a dagger, he looked like a stereotypical dwarf.
Leaving the city behind, we occasionally saw wagons and whole caravans slowly crawling along the road in the opposite direction towards Eyre. Various NPCs carried grain, produce, meats, and milk from the provinces. A patrol of guards passed by a couple of times: two horsemen from Eyre in full combat attire.
“What about PC here?” I asked Flame. “I was in Fairs, it’s really hardcore. People get killed right on the main square.”
“I heard. SuperChick,” the dwarf nodded. “Doesn’t happen here. Safe and sound. This location is backed by multiple clan allegiances. They don’t let anyone bully noobs.”
“Yet you really wanna be careful about strangers on the road,” Valkyrie added. “This is the SPHERE after all.”
“Yep. Everyone’s looking to rip someone else off,” Flame giggled. “Over and over again.” I remembered reading about that. The SPHERE didn’t feature safe zones, which I’d pretty much witnessed on my first day in Fairs. Only the cities were safe because any aggressors were immediately killed by the guard. The lands directly adjacent to the cities were considered relatively safe. NPC guards, regularly patrolling these areas, could step in if a crime was detected. The only thing was that the time of their arrival varied from a minute to ten depending on how far from the city an incident took place. Sometimes PKs were able to rob the players and run away, even before the guards had arrived. The rest of the map was considered wild terrain. There, both NPCs and players could do whatever they wanted—no punishment followed. It was precisely in this kind of area that the most interesting and highly rewarded dungeons were located. There, players could build their own castles and claim lands.
The limiting factor of aggression in safe and relatively safe zones (the players just called them kingdoms, not bothering to come up with names) was to be found in notions of Karma adopted from old MMORPG. The Karma of every player who committed a crime dropped. That player’s nickname turned from green to yellow, and if their Karma dropped any further, it turned red. The red-nicknamed players could be chased by guards around entire kingdoms and killed. Any character could attack such a player and not be punished. Players with bad Karma were more likely to drop items and clothes. There was that, on top of the usual indicators of Reputation in locations where they would kill players. If you really wanted, you could eventually clear your name, but that was difficult and took forever.
All this, I learned from Flame and Valkyrie, as we traveled further away. I also learned that the dwarf was leveling up to tank: Defense Heavy Armor and all the other skills were developed with an inclination towards a higher HP and defense points. His wife was an archer-damager, pathfinder and beginner herbalist.
“I haven’t decided what I’m going to level up on yet,” I admitted, looking confused. I didn’t want to tell them, I intended to be a merchant. “For now, I’m leveling up One-Handed Weapon and Light Armor. I have a lot of Agility, more than other players.”
“Agility rules. We want to find a thief in our party. Especially one with well-developed skills at breaking locks and detecting traps. You can’t get around without it. That requires agility, together with light armor.”
“I’ve a lockpick in my bag,” Flame went on with a spark in his eyes. “If we happen to need to break a lock, you can try it out.”
We were moving fast, not noticing the time, as we talked. It was beginning to get dark and, the farther away from the city we moved, the more deserted the terrain became. I realized it had been a while since we had seen an NPC.
“It’s around here, somewhere. Our instance begins there.” Valkyrie stopped. An approximate location of the wagon’s disappearance was marked on the map with an uneven shape. Entering the area, we had crossed a fine border, invisible to other players or perceptible only as something that resembled a wall of dust particles sparkling in rays of light. From that moment on, we were inside the instance—the area of the map generated specifically for us. Any other player or NPC who happened to be there would not be able to spot us, and we wouldn’t be able to see them either. Parties of travelers weren’t supposed to distract one another. As we walked, Flame was talking about PKs and said that specific skills and certain artifacts existed, which could enable one to discover a player even in this type of location.
“Ok, let’s find the wagon. Valkyrie, you’re the pathfinder. Come on!”
“Cat,” Flame turned to me. “If we get in a fight, I’ll deal with the mobs, and you make sure Valkyrie is safe. Got it? Don’t try to fight. They’re gonna get you.”
It didn’t take long to find the wagon. It was left in between trees, just a few feet away from the road. In the silence, interrupted only by the noise of the wind playing with the leaves, we carefully approached the object. We saw the first body lying in between the road and the wagon. It was a young teenage boy. His face had a panicky expression as if he was trying to escape. Flame tried to lift and turn the body of the NPC with the tip of his foot. His throat had been cut, and the blood had long dried up.
“Wolf tracks,” Valkyrie said quietly, pointing. “Big ones, too. That’s weird… they stop here.”
The wagon’s canvas cover was torn, several holes gaping in the side. Peering inside, I saw scattered bales of cloth all around the wagon. I found the second body, which was lying near the irradiation, still squeezing the reins wrapped around the forearm. Half eaten and decomposed, looking at the body made me feel sick. I felt the urge to barf even though that was impossible in the game. The bodies of horses lay a little further away, or rather, what was left of them. Valkyrie walked around, investigating the site.
“Lots of wolf tracks,” she summed up after a while. “Six to seven beasts, one of them very large. The tracks break off here.” As if confirming her words, a howl came deep from within the woods making me flinch. It was already dark. The fog was lifting, and I felt a feeling of horror begin to consume me.
“I guess they got eaten by wolves!” Flame said, interrupting the silence.
“Yes,” his wife nodded. “They stopped here to rest and got attacked by wolves.”
Quest Update: Search for the Missing Wagon.
Inform the cloth merchant Rian in Dan-na-Eyre of the tragic fate of his people and goods.
Bring him something that belonged to them as evidence.
>
Reward: XP, money (varies).
Note: this task is for a group of 3 players.
The quest was updated.
“There must be an artifact on those bodies. You check out the first corpse, and I’ll look around the second.” I carefully lifted the rigid, lifeless body of the young teenager. Brrrr… Searching a corpse felt way too realistic in SHERE! Ok, empty pockets… a purse… Perhaps an amulet at his neck? Wait a second! What is this? The dwarf and elf I had called over to were looking at what I had found in silence. Valkyrie reached out her hand and pulled out a broken piece of arrow.
You have been offered a special quest: Mysterious Archer.
Find out who the arrow you found in the body belongs to.
Reward: XP (varies).
Note: The quest contains explicitly violent scenes! Game administration is not responsible for your mental health during its execution. You can refuse this task free of reputation penalty. Discard the arrow to decline the quest.
“Wow. This is a rare quest,” Flame said, pulling at his beard. “Shall we accept it?”
“The arrow belongs to Elves!” exclaimed Valkyrie studying the arrow. “Looks very much like my arrows.”
“What is a special quest?” Yea…. I was a noob, so what?
“A rare encounter, a lot of XP and lots of perks,” the dwarf explained. “So? Are we in? I love 18+!!!” He jumped away playfully, trying to avoid his wife’s blow. In the meantime, the wolves howled again, this time appearing closer.
“Wolves. What have we got against them?” Flame mumbled as he dug about in his backpack.
“Physical damage,” Valkyrie said. “We might need bandages and antidotes.”
I looked at the map. The blue, semi-transparent area marking the location of the quest increased in size as the new task was offered and had changed its shape. Now, it marked a forest area north of the road, and we were currently standing right on the edge of it. We walked into the woods, our weapons at the ready, looking around stealthily. After a while, Valkyrie raised her hand and pointed in the direction of a tree trunk, on which a rune had been painted in red.
“A Druid symbol,” she explained. “I’ve no idea how it got there… Have you heard the sounds of a flute?”
“I don’t know. But I feel like someone is watching us.”
“I can hear the sound of a flute playing somewhere. It sounds so familiar, but I can’t quite get my mind round it.” I couldn’t hear any music, and neither could the dwarf. However, Elves were known to have better hearing and sense of sight. I could totally believe she could hear something that wasn’t audible to us.
Druid runes on trees were quite common as if they marked the way. As we walked, the wolf howl accompanied us, sounding closer with every passing minute. With my side vision, I began to notice movements in the surrounding woods. Flame reached for his ax, the Elf had her bow to the ready.
Suddenly, the trees cleared away, and we found ourselves in a valley with tall grasses and flowers. In front of us stood a wooden cabin. It had a gabled roof and was covered with turf and a chimney, bent to the side. The door was wide open but there were no signs of life—no light, smoke, or fire.
“I’m not liking it here,” Flame grumbled. “Let’s go check out what’s inside.”
As we made our way in, I realized why we were warned about explicit content. I was about to be sick again even though I realized it wasn’t real.
The cabin had just one room and bundles of dried herbs were hung on its log walls. A girl lay dead on the floor. She must have been about ten or twelve years old. Ragged wounds covered her body. It was horrible. Her white cap had turned red, soaked in blood. Under the bed, we found the body of an old woman with her throat gnawed. Blood splashes and stains covered the walls, floor, and even the ceiling of the cabin.
“Sons of bitch, developers,” I said, my voice hoarse.
“Developers?” Valkyrie looked at me surprised. “Don’t you know that the procedure generator comes with the quest?” She approached the bed and poked her knife into the bed sheets.
“It’s full of wolf fur,” she said thoughtfully. “Hmmm… I’ll take some of the herbs with me. They’re rare. I wonder if the old lady was an herbalist…”
“There are potions, but the vessels are mostly broken,” Flame said, digging through a chest he had found in the corner. “Here, I’ve found a few healing ones, Cat!”
You receive a Minor Antidote Potion. You receive a Minor Healing Potion.
I put two thick vessels into special sockets on my belt—quick access slots.
“If it’s a reference to Little Red Riding Hood, then where are the hunters?” The dwarf joked. We found the hunters in the bushes around the cabin. Three dead bodies, all set up in such a way, as if they were trying to surround the cabin. There were claw and fang marks. All three had been killed by arrows, which were then carefully pulled out of the bodies. There were no weapons on them, and everything valuable had been taken. As we continued our search, we found just one artifact—a flat, silver flask with a fine engraving, closed with a chained, screw cap.
Flat, silver flat flask. 0.3 L.
Quality: rare.
Durability: 15/20.
Contains: Holy Water.
Note: Holy water inflicts double damage to ghosts, undead, werewolves, and creatures of Darkness.
A vibrating wolf howl pierced the dark forest and was immediately followed by more howls. They appeared to be very close. Just beyond the glade flashed vague, lean shadows.
“The wolves are here!” Valkyrie said, assessing the situation. “Ivan, we need fire and torches.” Flame dropped the bunch of logs he had gotten from his backpack onto the ground. I pulled out a couple of flints and struck once. Nothing. I tried again. And then, a cheerful fire ignited, quickly taking up on the dry wood. The dwarf lit several oil torches. He handed me one, while sticking the rest into the ground, making a fire fence around us. From inside it, we watched the wolves appear at the edge of the clearing.
“They’re about to attack,” Valkyrie said, her voice indifferent. “Are you ready?”
It was already pitch dark. We could make them out now, as they circled: gray, forest wolves. A long howling sound marked the attack signal. The first, thin, gray, fury body flew into the air, its fanged mouth wide open. Flame intercepted it with a force shield and pulled out his ax. The wolf squawked as it died a second later from the damage inflicted by two feathered poles that were sticking out its body. Clearly, Valkyrie didn’t waste any time.
The second wolf, almost the same size, jumped at me, aiming at my throat. The weight of it nearly knocked me over, but I managed to turn my forearm that was protected by a leather wristband. The furious wolf was clinging to it and scratching my leather armor with its claws.
The wolf bites you! You receive 8 damage! HP: 72/80.
Your Light Armor skill increased to 75.
Leather Wrist: Durability reduced to 18/20.
Quilted Leather Armor: Durability reduced to 99/100.
I struck the wolf in the side with a sword, but to no visible effect. I didn’t have enough swing. I then lifted his heavy torso and pushed it into the fire, scattering a cloud of sparks. He howled with pain, his fur burning. He let me go and fled, leaping over the flames.
You dealt the wolf 7 damage. Fire damage! You set the wolf on fire! While the effect is active, it loses 1 HP every 2 seconds!
Flame was being attacked by two other wolves, who were scratching and biting him. Valkyrie was holding her torch trying to keep a wolf away. I threw the useless sword on the ground and reached for my dagger, which would be much handier. My hands were trembling.
“Cat! Get it off me!” the Elf screamed, trying to hold her defense. I rushed to assist her and stuck the burning torch right into the wolf’s face. As it jumped and howled with pain, I squeezed it and pinned it to the ground. I stabbed it with my dagger a few times in various places while it desperately tried to free itself. Then followed a long, furious howl
—a signal to retreat—the snarling creatures fled, crying miserably. We breathed heavily, recovering from the battle.
“How many did we get?” asked Flame, cleaning the blade of his ax.
“According to the logs, four!” Valkyrie said, shrugging her shoulders. “Cat wounded another, but it got away. I stabbed two and lost half my arrows.” She was walking around the fire, pulling unbroken arrows from the wolves’ bodies.
“They’re all male,” she noticed thoughtfully. “I wonder why?”
“How many were there in total?”
“At least 10. And I saw their leader,” Valkyrie hesitated. “You know, with my night vision. A huge black wolf. It didn’t participate in the attack, just watched from a distance. His gaze felt odd… somehow, human.”
“You think he was a varg?”
“Like a mini-boss. So, what are we doing? They fled in that direction,” Valkyrie said, pointing.
“Pick up the torches. Let’s go get them,” the dwarf said, as he pulled burning sticks from the ground. “Stick together and keep your weapons ready.”
It was already dark—nearly midnight. We were heading through the woods, our torches lighting the way. We jumped every time we heard a sound. We could hear wolves somewhere nearby as if they were watching us. Valkyrie pulled her bow string twice but didn’t shoot. She only had about two dozen arrows left.
“Hear that?” she suddenly asked. “The sound of a flute again. And fire, I can see fire. Over there!” We moved in the direction she pointed to, and after a while, the trees began to thin out, and we found ourselves on a hill covered in grass. At the top were several ancient manghirs that had grown into the ground. It was there, in the stone circle, that we saw the small fire glimmer, that Valkyrie had spotted.
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