Beginner's Luck (Character Development Book 1)

by Aaron Jay

  The combat quest didn’t come with a specialist item. It came with a full set of lorica squamata, or Roman style scale mail, and a spatha (Roman sword). I kept those. And pocketed the 3,900 gp my trade-ins left me. I turned my lemons into lemonade and sold them at a fat profit. A very good day’s trading. The game system agreed with me. I had been keeping track of notices as I made my trades.

  Feat! Items sold for over 10% above market value - 1 skill point added to Trade Skill. Title Awarded: Hustler - you have a vague sense of what the current game-wide trading price of an item should be.

  Feat! Items sold for over 100% above market value - 10 skill points added to Trade Skill. Title Awarded: Sharp Trader - you have a strong sense of what the current game-wide trading price of an item should be.

  Feat! Items sold for over 1,000% above market value - 100 skill points added to Trade Skill. Title Awarded: Wheeler Dealer - you know exactly what the current game wide trading price of an item is.

  Ding! Congratulations! You have completed the Beginner’s Trade Quest. You sold 80gp of items for 3,900 gp. 382/300 TCP acquired. Journeyman status in Trade achieved. Go forth into the wilds and reclaim the earth for humanity! It will take traders like you to ensure that we can pacify the wild lands. Without the materiel and resources you will bring, our brave adventurers will not be able to overcome the nano. Humanity thanks you.

  I couldn’t believe it. I had completed the trade quest. One quest out of the five accomplished and in just two days to boot. That was probably some sort of record. Pleasure really is the absence of pain. And joy really is the absence of fear. For at least this moment the lump of fear over the wager and my future was gone and euphoria made my head spin.

  Then the system voice spoke again.

  You have accomplished 1/5 of the Fundamental Beginner’s Quests. Wager with clan heir status updated. All parties to the wager shall be informed of your progress.

  Maya was going to be kept informed of my progress. That was going to be bad. No flying under the radar for me.

  Part of me knew that this accomplishment had been a fluke. Only someone with all five beginner’s quests, a Party Member Affiliate’s starting package, and whatever was distorting the prices in Quartzite could have turned this into an opportunity. Without any one of these elements, it would have been a disaster. But I also knew that despite her being a classy modern day princess, Maya Eastman had just crapped her pants.

  Some part of me also knew that there was no such thing as a free lunch. Whoever was behind the prices around here was going to find me and demand an accounting since my trades must have wrecked whatever market manipulation he had going on. But Maya’s response and whoever had set things up here were a worry for another day. It was time to finish shopping and get out of town before anyone came after me.

  I splurged and bought two cooking recipes, a water skin, rope, and a few other adventuring necessities. Finally, I bought a rimmed buckler. I was pleased to find that as a journeyman trader with 111 Trade points and 82 surplus TCP I got a whopping 40% off my purchases from the prices quoted earlier. So the recipes and sundry items only cost the better part of 1,500gp. Then I really splurged and bought a local map. Nothing much about the area was available on the web. Nate had a map with basic features that was a rip-off at 400gp, but it updated my automap and if I could explore, I might be able to sell a more detailed version back to him. I stuffed my goods and gold into the bag of holding and left Nate’s. It was time to grind.

  I poked my head out of Nate’s store hoping that no one would notice me. The NPCs playing checkers out front hadn’t moved. There was no way to tell if the despondent look on my face and keeping all my gear in the bag fooled them. Hopefully, they would tell anyone who came to investigate that nothing unusual had happened. Just another dissatisfied non-customer. Doubling back would also make them report I left town heading in a different direction, so I made a loop behind the buildings once out of their sight.

  I was armored up and ready to get my Elmer Fudd on, as my dad would say. Those rabbits’ days were numbered. Looking at my map, I thought about where to go. Staying too close to town was a recipe for disaster, but too far out and the mobs would be too powerful. There was an abandoned mine, but it had to be too advanced for me as it was most likely a starter dungeon. I also wanted to stay out of sight as much as I could. There was a dry gulch a few hours north of town that looked like it was surrounded by hills. That would keep any folks wandering the area from seeing me until they were upon me. I headed out, going wide around any hares I ran across.

  Gravel crunched underfoot as my boots came to the edge of the gulch. More piles of giant boulders made the rim of the wash even deeper. It ran roughly southwest to northeast, and I had hit its southern beginnings. I scrambled down, sliding over the scree and gritty dirt.

  Ahead of me was another Desert Hare. This one was level three. A bow would have been really handy at this point. It was unaffordable; well, I could have afforded the bow, but arrows were the issue at 100gp a dozen. I also felt that there was no way I could use one effectively without combat autoskills. Not without burning through hundreds of practice arrows and time I didn't have. The crazy pricing around here was forcing me into melee range.

  The first Desert Hare was just ahead. I stopped out of range and equipped my gear. Now that I was armored up and a monster was in front of me, my lack of automatic combat skills was filling me with dread. I had no idea how to hold the sword. The armor bound and constrained me in odd places. Leather doesn’t hang like nano-cloth.

  With an actual weapon, I thought, there was some small chance I might engage some auto-attack forms. But deep down I knew the lack of luck stat had to be the issue, not the fact that I had been throwing stones. Fear was driving me towards wishful thinking. I felt completely awkward. My hand held the sword in a sweaty grip. Swinging the sword with any speed pulled me off balance. I tried placing my other hand on the pommel for better control, but this made the buckler feel even more unnatural. I wasn’t sure what was right. I wiped my palm dry again.

  At least I had equipment this time. On second thought, why hadn’t I run into town and gotten some equipment before fighting these things before? The shock of the bet and all my plans getting thrown out the window was making me rush and do stupid things. Just throwing on my equipment and rushing into battle again was one more example.

  Backing off, I got myself into a more stable stance and swung my sword diagonally. I did it again. And then again. And again. I kept at it for a few dozen strikes hoping that it would feel more natural. A stamina bar appeared and slowly moved from green down to yellow. I thrust the sword repeatedly as the stamina bar shrank into the red. Entering mortal combat using a tool and skills with which I had zero familiarity was ridiculous. But I had killed this rabbit’s cousin with some rocks - things had to go better. So, I sat down and concentrated on recalling the feeling of a sword stroke as I waited for the stamina bar to refill. I practiced for an hour before convincing myself that outside of a lot more training that I didn’t have time for, not to mention a teacher - another hour flailing around on my own wasn’t going to make a difference.

  I walked up to the hare, trying to keep my shield perpendicular to it and my sword cocked back for a strike. When I was a few yards away, it stopped and turned towards me. One more step and its guarded interest turned into aggro. It leaped at me. I got my shield in place between us and it hit with a bang. My legs weren’t braced well enough and it pushed me back a few paces, but I kept it from clawing or biting me. Still, the hare messed up my timing, and my counterstroke was a whiff. It moved to the side looking to get past my shield, but I turned with it. It bunched its legs. I tried to brace myself better and got my feet planted. This kept me from getting shoved back this time, but it also meant that the hare managed to force my shield arm back and my shield hit me in my face. My second swing was thrown off by the self-inflicted loss of a hit point.

  Giving the hare the initiative wasn’t working. Step
ping in and cutting at the damned thing was a little better. My sword tip got a tiny piece of it, but the crafty little bastard slipped back. We were now even: each down one hit point. Much of my problem was due to being too tentative. It leaped at me and once again I was pushed back as my footwork was unprepared for it. This time I didn’t bash myself with my shield, small favor. Trying to do two things at once was messing me up. I decided to stop focusing on striking with my sword. Time to practice with the shield. One thing at a time. I set my feet a bit farther apart and worked on keeping my back foot set up to be planted as the hare and I fought. We danced in and out from each other as I tried to throw off Bugs Bunny’s timing, with mixed results. Either I wasn’t fast or clever enough with all my bobbing and weaving or rabbits are particularly immune to the idea of feints. Happily, it mostly failed at wounding me. It had managed to claw me a few times on the legs. It went for a bite low and inside like the first time I had encountered one of its breed. I managed to bring the edge of the buckler down on its neck and it scrambled back. After a few rounds like this, my endurance counter was now firmly into the yellow and my hp were lower than I’d have liked. All defense and no offense was wearing me down. Bugs seemed as fresh as when the fight began.

  One more idea to try with the shield and then I’d focus on killing it before collapsing from fatigue. By now I was a bit more familiar with what to look for before the rabbit leaped. When its back legs tightened this time, I didn’t try to brace or feint or slip the leaping attack. This time I moved into the hare’s strike. I charged up from my stance, pushing off with both my legs - my whole body and shoulder leading into it as I tried to slam my shield through the rabbit. I won’t say Bugs had stars and tiny birds circling his head as he was slammed back, but this definitely gave me the initiative. I followed it up with a slash and a thrust.

  Twenty-five exp and tonight’s dinner were awarded to me. I stood over my fallen enemy. “Be vewy vewy quiet. I’m hunting wabbits. Huhuhuhuhuh,” I said in triumph. My father had made sure I was familiar with the classics, from Herodotus to Chuck Jones. I was educated.

  A green carrot/prompt started blinking in the corner of my vision. Pressing or swiping to access it did nothing. After trying everything I could think of, all I could do was ignore it and find my next victim. I spotted what looked like a wolf on the ridge line, but it moved off, and after waiting for it to come back, I figured it must have decided to hunt elsewhere. I resolved to keep wary of wandering mobs as I hunted.

  Not too much farther along the gulch, another rabbit was busy doing his random hopping about and eating the scrub. This time I did my best to keep the initiative. I rushed in, crowding the animal, either punching through with my buckler or hacking with the spatha or both, trying not to give it any time to counter. This tactic was pretty effective, and Bugs the Second started shedding hp. That was when the green carrot started blinking faster, and a notice blocked the lower part of my vision. I could swear I had turned off combat notices. I read, “Hardcore playmode tutorial loading. Continue combat to fully initialize. Encounters 1/20.” Distracted, I let the rabbit speed past my buckler on the outside. Its fangs clamped down on my bicep. The scales of my armor were crushed into my flesh. A deep pain blossomed through my arm and my eyes teared up. Worse, the nerves in my hand spasmed and I dropped my buckler.

  I tried to use my spatha as a dagger. It isn’t a dagger. Attempting to use it to stab the rabbit was like using a shovel to drink soup. It was just too damned long for close quarter work. Once Bugs II was inside my guard and was clawing and biting for all he was worth, I couldn’t stab back towards myself. I was back to writhing around in the desert dirt in a fight to the death. I started using my sword’s pommel to bash its skull in. The pommel at least beat the rocks I used before. This time I had a full third of my HP remaining once I collapsed next to Bugs the Second’s carcass. Another lesson learned the hard way: keep a back-up dagger on hand.

  As I lay there recovering, I saw that the annoying notice had changed a bit. It now read, “Encounters 2/20.” I just needed to keep grinding, and then I’d find out what “Hardcore playmode tutorial” might be.

  The day wore on as I fought my way northward through the gulch. Another three hares fell, each combat going a little bit smoother and faster. And then I took the opportunity to use my first cooking recipe. Let me tell you something: grilled desert hare made out of badly butchered monster rabbits by someone who has no idea how to cook is still the best thing you have ever eaten if all you have been eating for years is unmodified meal packs. You can turn meal packs into any dish you can imagine as long as you can afford the nano to alter it. If you can’t, it is gray goop and tastes no better than it looks. Now that I was in the game I could eat what people call food. It was bliss. Pure rabbity bliss. I couldn’t wait until I could unlock or figure out how to gather wild onions. Hasenpfeffer stew sounded amazing.

  Escaping a lifetime of slavery, or the adrenaline rush of mortal combat, or the dopamine from the resulting experience points that will eventually give you super-human abilities--these are great motivations. Food with actual taste matches them.

  The smell of my cooking must have drawn him. When I looked up from stuffing a rabbit leg into my mouth, I saw a young wolf staring down at me from the ridge line. The grilled rabbit dropped in the dirt as I drew my sword and backed up.

  YOUNG WOLF

  level 5

  No other wolves seemed to be around. His pack, if he had one, wasn’t anywhere I could see or hear. He bounded down the side of the gulch towards me, and I backed up, trying to keep him from closing the distance between us. He seemed a lot faster than the rabbits. This made sense since wolves survive by hunting rabbits, not the other way around. My feet stepped back one pace for every two of his as he came near, without me even deciding to do so. He came up to the remains of the rabbit I had just been enjoying. He lowered his snout and sniffed it. He thought it was as much of a treat as I did. The damned thief took my lunch with him, shaking his tail in glee back up the side of the gulch. The first decent meal I had had in years went off in his grinning teeth.

  Minutes passed and nothing happened. The wolf seemed to be gone. He got what he came for. Keeping one eye peeled to make sure he wasn’t waiting to ambush me, I had to move on to the next rabbit. During the fight that followed, I worried that I was going to be blindsided by the wolf, but it was still just me and a rabbit. Bugs V and Bugs VI went down according to plan. I sat recovering after my fight with Bugs VII when a gray streak blurred by and the rabbit meat was gone. The Young Wolf had struck again.

  “Hey! Come back with that, you damned thief!” I yelled at his retreating back.

  He stopped and gave me a look that said, “You want me to come back? Really? Because I will, and you won’t like it.”

  The stupid wolf was right. My low level, evened out by my Party Affiliate gear and juiced stats, compared to his level 5 probably meant a toss up fight for us. Some rabbit meat wasn’t worth a possible death and its penalties. With a snort after I backed down, the wolf left having taken my measure and established that I was his bitch.

  That afternoon I worked my way through the gulch laying down rabbit breakfasts, lunches, and dinners, most of which I got to keep but every third or so kill the wolf took his cut. Eventually, he didn’t bother to snatch the meat but just trotted over and took it as casually as can be. Then he didn’t even bother to leave and just ate my kills in front of me.

  “You ought to join the Party. They operate just like you,” I told him.

  He just gave me a wolfish grin and waited for me to get back to work for him.

  Another few kills and I wasn’t worried that he was going to attack me as he sat nearby watching my fighting technique. Whenever I stumbled or missed a strike or a rabbit managed to get a piece of me I could swear he was laughing.

  “Laugh all you want but which of us is actually able to fight these things?” I grumbled.

  He gave me a serious look. At the next fight, h
e calmly sprang at the hare before I could engage. A snap of his jaws, a twist, and its neck snapped. He trotted off to the side and calmly started grooming himself. He had shown me who was the better fighter.

  He continued to loll about, relaxing and let me kill the rabbits for him even though it was clear he could do so more easily than I could. The counter on Hardcore Playmode Tutorial encounters climbed. Truthfully, I started enjoying having the company even if it cost me some loot. At two coppers a hare, the company, such as it was, was a bargain at the price.

  When the counter hit 19/20, I was almost at the next level. I had come to the end of the gulch. I also came to a new mob. A giant scorpion was eating the remains of what would have been my 20th rabbit.

  SAND SCORPTION

  Level 5

  This had to be the local mini-boss of the gulch. Going from fighting bunnies, even giant bunnies, to armored eight-legged, poison-tail-waving monsters felt like a big jump. The young wolf kept his distance but didn’t seem concerned. I remembered a joke my dad once told me about two guys who came upon a bear in the woods. One of the men starts putting on some running shoes. The other guy says, “You think we can outrun the bear?” The man with the shoes gets up and says, “I don’t have to outrun the bear. I just have to outrun you.” The guy with the running shoes must have looked just like the young wolf.

  There was not enough time for me to play conservatively. But I couldn’t afford the penalties of many deaths either, and my stomach flipped over every time I wondered what might happen if I died under the weird adaptations the game was making for my lack of luck stat.