by Aaron Jay
Smitty looked up from his beer. “Get to the point already.” He grunted morosely.
“Well things aren’t any different here in the game. People are still people. They do all the same things in the game they did in real life. People grinding for someone else aren’t going to do more than they have to unless they get something out of it. You going to produce extra for the Eastmans? Can the clans predict which quests people are going to focus on? The AI, wild and tame, also get a vote. So things get out of balance but we have the ultimate tool to fix it. We have nano and The Game. Amulius and the AIs can just make more or less iron ore spawn. A dragon shuts down an iron mine? Just have another mine start generating double somewhere else. The crafters don’t make enough Zweihanders? Increase the amount of the commodities that make up the Zweihander. But, even with AI and almost total control of the spawning of items and commodities, the economy still goes off the rails. Even an artificial market will fall out of balance – maybe because it is artificial. We still haven’t found a better tool for revealing preferences and discovering prices than markets. So each territory is managed separately. Arbitrage evens out the differences. But in the end, the Party controls Amulius. They can set prices. Price controls actually work here. Or they work well enough that you can just fix the problems they create with a wave of a hand to Amulius to go make adjustments, which then need other adjustments. In the end, it all doesn’t matter that much. After all we don’t have a game economy to, you know, build things or make life better for ourselves. We are all just playing a game to teach wild nano to play the game too. So the whole thing shambles along with Amulius and the Party fixing things in the background. If this was realty we’d all be starving like they did.”
“Get to the point!” demanded Smitty.
“Well, Professor Brady helped set up the original models for The Game economy. That is how he knows your father. He knows better than anyone how these adjustments will propagate out through the economy. He can even cause some. If he controls one of the territories and controls the inputs to the game store, he can leverage up the prices of some things by a pretty huge amount. For a short time.”
“I still don’t see how my small sale threw off the whole economy of the territory. My trade was tiny in comparison to a territory’s GDP.”
“Why the heck did I spend all this time telling you how this economy isn’t real? Sure, if this was a real market economy and goddamn Wands of Orcus actually existed, then your piddly little trade wouldn’t affect a hill of beans. But this is a game. The economy is run by a computer. Your Wand of Orcus is only worth whatever Amulius says it is. If he wants he can make every goddamn rabbit you kill drop a dozen of them every time you kill one, can’t he? If he wants he can nerf them and make it a useless item. He won’t because that will upset all the players. The Game needs everyone working and grinding to get their hands on a Wand of Orcus. We need everyone beavering away, acting like all this stuff matters so the AIs will think it matters too. So, we can’t adjust things too much.”
“Why adjust things at all?” I asked.
“Because people adjust to rules. If the rules were permanent and fixed, pretty soon everyone would start gaming the rules, wouldn’t they? You can’t design a system that isn’t exploitable by the corrupt. You can’t design a system so some smart idiot can’t break it. And before you ask why we make the management exploitable by those in control, don’t. We need some management. Someone will be in control of those management tools. Those people will exploit that control to some extent. Human nature is human nature,” Gord explained.
Smitty had been sitting with a long suffering look on his face.
“Hey, Gord. What are you drinking?” Smitty asked.
“Beer,” Gord answered.
“See, the way you are going on, I thought if someone asked you a simple question like that you’d start explaining how beer was invented. Or, maybe start going off about organic chemistry and the human alimentary system. Shut up. I’ll tell him,” commanded Smitty.
“Amulius looks at the prices of a basket of goods and commodities from territory to territory and adjusts related prices accordingly. Lifebalm weed price dropping over here then healing potion prices over there go up. Get it? Subtle enough that the rubes keep picking herbs and buying healing pots. The professor understands it in detail but you have to think like there are automatic buy and sell orders set up in the background of the market.”
“We controlled the one store in the territory. We made sure the prices were out of whack with the rest of the entire cradle. Demand would build and build until the system decided that it would accept any deal that would get the system heading back to equilibrium. Normally, it would be a small percentage change on a few hundred thousand sales. But the boss knows the system only cares about the aggregate sales price. Amulius doesn’t care if it is one silver more per sale on hundreds of thousands of sales or one big sale for a million gold on a handful of items. Amulius only cares that the books balance and people largely keep playing the game. We wait and then at the end of one fiscal cycle we make one deal where the prices are marked up an insane degree. We take advantage of the rule that once a store owner gives you a quote he has to make good on it. Since all the prices are bullshit, the game makes a big deal about sticking to the terms of any deals. Got to keep the rubes trusting the system. Get it?” said Smitty.
“And for that one sale you can sell as much as you like. You sold, what, like a half dozen starter items? You could have… Well, Brady sells a huge pile of high-tier loot at the same markup. That is what you messed up,” finished Gord.
“What a goddamn waste,” cried Smitty.
I finished my drink.
“As I see it, this isn’t my fault,” I said. When Smitty started up with blood in his eye, I continued, “I mean obviously I messed things up but how could you expect anyone to know? Why didn’t you have anyone stop people from doing this? All I did was sell some starter equipment.”
“We have every entrance in and out of the territory manned with our guys. Our only error was thinking that no one would be stupid enough to actually start their roll up in Quartzite.”
I thought this over for a bit and turned to Smitty.
“Sorry, Smitty. My windfall was found money. If you want it I still have a few thousand left.”
They turned to me aghast.
“Only a few thousand left? Where did the rest go?”
“I bought a few recipes and a map.”
That just about killed Smitty. Gord almost passed out from laughter. Smitty just kept muttering, “Why would anyone buy anything at Nate’s with those prices? Why? Why?”
“I’m level three. At the time, I was level one! I wouldn’t survive the journey to anywhere else. And I have no time to waste. Or had, I guess.”
Smitty and Gord looked at each other. They remembered that they were about to throw me in a dungeon for ten months and then to a life of servitude.
“Sorry. I guess we all are getting screwed on this one,” said Smitty.
We sat in silence.
“So, how is working for Brady?” I asked. “Should I take him up on his offer to buy me from Maya Eastman?”
The two lackeys looked at each other for a bit.
“It isn’t for everyone. The boss, he’s smart. He keeps his word. But…” said Gord.
“You seem like a nice kid,” said Smitty. “If you come work with us better you come in eyes open. The prof, he’d want me to tell you this. This isn’t me being disloyal. Right, Gord?” He waited until Gord nodded, suggesting that despite his belief that Brady would want him to be honest with me, he was also scared enough to want reassurance that what he was about to say wouldn’t displease his boss. “He is a remorseless bastard. You may think that there is some rough justice going on with him throwing you in the mines. Like you cost him a fortune so he is ok with doing this to you. It isn’t like that. You could have had nothing to do with him before today. He’d still throw you in a dungeon fo
r months and then to a lifetime of slaving away for the Eastmans. For less than he got from Tasha Eastman too. This isn’t Robin Hood’s merry band.”
“Course this is all in a game, right? We don’t do this stuff to people IRL,” chimed in Gord.
Smitty gave Gord a look.
“Much,” said Gord.
“Mostly we do stuff to the clans,” said Smitty.
“On behalf of the other clans.”
“When they want something done that won’t be traced back to them we might get a contract. We have some businesses and things going on like you stumbled into. We don’t do much to regular folks.”
“Well sure. They don’t have hardly anything worth taking,” Gord pointed out.
“Individually. But there are millions and millions of them. Steal a little bit from each and you get to serious money. But the Party has that all locked up, don’t they?” I reflected.
“The boss is real smart. Real smart. He isn’t generous but he pays better than you can make anywhere else in the cradle. As long as you got a strong stomach the pay is good. You mess up or cross him though…” Gord shuddered.
We went back to our drinks as I considered the competing shit sandwiches it looked like I was going to be choosing between. Winning the wager seemed impossible. If I could just give these two the slip and make it out of town… but, no. They were drinking casually but they were on the job. I couldn’t outrun Gord. I probably couldn’t outrun Smitty even with his caster build. And I certainly couldn’t outrun Smitty’s spells. I wasn’t going anywhere but into the mine. But I wasn’t willing to give up on escaping the mine.
“How about you sell me stuff at normal prices and keep the rest of the gold and let me prep for my time in the Kobold dungeon,” I asked.
I took out my remaining gold and plunked it on the table.
“You realize that there is no way you can solo this dungeon, right?” said Gord, face serious.
“Sure, but I can at least be comfortable. Maybe work on my mining skill. I have to do something with myself for ten months. Anyway, you are only contracted to throw me in the dungeon. You aren’t babysitting me for the ten months,” I pointed out.
They looked at each other and at the pile of gold.
“You are full of shit about working on becoming a miner, but no way are you soloing a four man dungeon set at… wait gimme a sec.”
“The dungeon is going to be set at level 6.75. So it will round up to level seven. My three plus eight plus eight plus eight divided by four. 6.75 rounds to seven,” I stated grimly.
“Well, there you go. You aren’t soloing that.”
“I guess not. So what’s the harm? You get a few thousand gold. I get a better stay in the mine.”
They looked at each other and shrugged.
“Sure, kid.”
“Hey, Gord,” laughed Smitty, “I get mine and Boone here gets the shaft. Ha!”
*** ***
It was going to take a day and a half for the Eastman group to meet us at Quartzite. This gave me plenty of time to hit the local trainers and shop at the store of Smitty & Gord. Smitty was happy enough to sell me basic adventuring gear. He found it more amusing to charge outrageous amounts for each item rather than just let me get kitted out and keep whatever I had left.
“Bedroll? That will be 55 gold.”
“Rope? 10 gold a foot, young man.”
“Iron spikes? 20 gold a piece. A bargain at the price. Tell you what, buy a dozen and I’ll throw an extra in for free.”
I wasn’t amused. Gord lost interest in the joke pretty quickly but Smitty chuckled and laughed throughout the entire shopping excursion. He got profound satisfaction when he sold me my last item by charging me all of my remaining gold.
“Wow! That was really lucky. You had just enough to buy what you needed. Isn’t it nice when everything works out so well?” he crowed.
I couldn’t argue with that. Given his orders he was treating me very reasonably. The only hiccup came when I wanted to buy some potions. Gord stepped in.
“Fun is fun but no magic items,” he ordered.
While he didn’t let me buy any potions he did let me buy some alchemy equipment like empty potion flasks, mortar and pestle, and alembic. He was going to stop me from buying some thieves’ picks but Smitty laughed and asked Gord if he thought I could pick the lock on the mines. Gord grunted and let me buy them.
After the shop of Smitty & Sons of Bitches closed, I dragged my two minders with me from one basic trainer to the next. After my experiences with Maddie and magic, I knew that I had to master skills like mining and herb collection, and that I also needed formal approval from the system to have my skills impact game play. So I went about getting the typical introduction to each skill offered to beginners in the Game. Each time I went to a trainer I did my best to see if there was anything that might possibly give me some sort of edge or hope of escaping Maya or Brady’s clutches.
We started with the smithy and moved through them one by one.
It was a grand tour of RPG cliches. The smith was big and burly. The forge dark and hot. Quenching barrels, different sized anvils, all sorts of tools and hammers were laid out, ready to be used.
“Ho! You want to experience the righteous sweat from pounding metal to man’s use? You already have a hammer! Then let me induct you into the brethren of iron blah blah blah.”
You have learned the skill Blacksmith.
Level Novice
No silver bullets there.
Next up, a wizened old coot with bifocals and extra lenses that could be folded into use. Chalkboards laid out with schematics and impossible geometries.
“Crafting? You want to amaze people with the devices and contraptions that are the wonder of the modern world? Be humble. You can begin with the eight simple machines: lever, wheel and axle, pulley, inclined plane, wedge, screw, mana infuser, and mana diffuser blah blah blah.”
You have learned the skill Crafting.
Level Novice
No silver bullets there either.
“Alchemy is refining the fundamental elements of the world itself blah blah blah.”
You have learned the skill Alchemy.
Level Novice
“Herbalism is finding the powers of nature. All around us are wonders hidden in a common leaf or seedpod blah blah blah.”
You have learned the skill Herbalism.
Level Novice
“Enchanting imbues mundane items with astounding magics blah blah blah.”
You have learned the skill Enchanting.
Level Novice
“Mining…”
“Tailoring…”
“Cooking…”
“Map Making…”
Smitty and Gord were getting bored with my attempt to become a renaissance man in one day. As I went from one skill trainer to the next and the futility of it weighed on me more and more, I could feel my panic rising out of control. I couldn’t stop obsessing over the fantasy that there might be some nutty synergy between these skills that would get me out of this nightmare. Like I could mine some ore that I could mix with a cave lichen that would let me craft The Great Periapt of Miles Doesn’t Get Stuck In A Hole For Ten Months And Then A Lifetime Of Slaving Away Or Working As A Thug. When I went to the local stable to get my Animal Husbandry skill Gord finally put a stop to my fruitless searches.
“Enough. Let’s go get a drink. Maybe see the girls down at Sweet Lady Jane’s,” he said.
“One more place. Then we can do whatever you want. Ok?” I pleaded.
Smitty and Gord looked at each other and then sighed.
“Fine. But you owe us.”
We went to Maddie’s. I had saved her for last because I had the quest to see her. She was my best chance.
Smitty knocked on her door and waited to be invited in. At every other place he had just barged in as if he owned the place. Or, as if his boss owned the place. Maddie must be a unique NPC. The cat was back on the dusty book on the bookshelf.
>
“Maddie. I’m back as you requested.”
“So you are.”
Ding!
You have completed the Quest “Come See Maddie the Bruja”
“Come with me. I may be able to train you in some of the mysteries of the arcane.”
She started to lead me towards her workshop. Smitty and Gord made to follow.
“You may not observe,” she commanded.
“We are guarding Boone. We can’t let him escape. Orders from Brady himself,” Gord informed her.
Maddie looked as if she had bit into a lemon. She waved a wand she drew from somewhere and muttered an incantation. Arcane energy flew out from her in a circle.