Polyglot

by D Richardson

  "Oh, is that a quest?" I asked, not waiting for an answer.

  "If you want it to be."

  ***

  Directions from passing strangers led me to the steps of the library, a massive structure with the front held up by pillars, similar to Greek architecture.

  How did I know that?

  Right as I climbed the hundreds of stairs to reach the entrance, my ribbon vibrated. I untied it from my wrist and looked it over.

  Smith: Everyone meet at the docks in an hour!

  Relce: Why?

  Smith: Because I said so!

  Simone: We've got a quest that takes us to Nisa!

  Alex: Will we be coming back?

  Smith: This is the starting town. We gotta move on.

  Trell: I have to see my brother and niece off. Give me two hours.

  Simone: Don't complain, Jay.

  Smith: Whatever, fine. Two hours.

  Relce: I'll see you there, my dudes!

  I sighed and looked at the library that I was about to step into. A couple of hours was just enough time to grab some supplies before heading out so the answers would have to wait. Even then, there was no guarantee that any scholar or historian would understand my problems, so I hurried over to the market square.

  The place was closer than I thought, so I took my time gearing up for the adventure ahead.

  Traveler's Bag, brown: 20kg capacity. Good enough for my small frame. 50 gold.

  Lightweight Fire Robe, black: Same material as an oven mitt, but less thick. 150 gold.

  Off-brand Casting Staff: It's really just a long stick. Clearance item. 40 gold.

  Bread, jerky, apples, and a flask of water: A girl's gotta eat. 20 gold.

  Cat Ear Headband, pink: I'm gonna make Simone wear these. 20 gold.

  Other countless things caught my eye. One of the scroll merchants had tons of low-level magic scrolls, everything from Lightning to Healing to Swordmage skills. I had first thought they could only be given out by trainers, but I realized that the starter scrolls didn't have restrictions like the high-level stuff. Once I had enough money, I thought it would be a cool idea to grab them all.

  Like everything else, it would have to wait. Before I realized it, I spent almost all my money with just enough left for a night at the inn and a few more meals. I didn't know what kind of quest the others had in mind, but I hoped more than anything it would pay well.

  The docks were packed with workers running this way and that, sailors unloading trade goods into the carts of impatient merchants, wooden naval vessels that dropped the gangplank to spill out off-duty marines, and the occasional player or nipsy looking for a good deal.

  The place smelled of fish. The echoes of shouts and cawing gulls and wood being tossed around. The sun came out. I wanted to walk down to the loading area, but with so much traffic I worried I might get run into by some burly dude or even a wagon. Instead, I looked around for the others, catching sight of them at the end of the pier. The group was chatting with a thin man in a green cloak, explanations were passed between them and hand gestures shared. I ran over.

  "And so," the merchant said, "that is why I can't go straight there. We have to use the other port." He was speaking directly to Smith, who stroked his chin in thought.

  Simone waved me over and pulled me close. Her hair smelled like berries. "We're working out the details now," she whispered.

  "I understand," Smith said. "Yet there is one thing you neglected to tell us."

  The merchant rolled his eyes. "Okay, you want to barter."

  "The police have a standing quest for the forests between here and Talun. You know you need protection."

  "My offer is 2k gold, 2k XP."

  "Yeah, but that's split between us," Smith said.

  "Not my problem," the merchant said.

  "No," Smith said, lowering his voice. "Your problem is that you have something valuable to smuggle."

  The merchant's eyes darted around for anyone within earshot. "Shut your mouth," he hushed. "You'll get us all locked away."

  "10k," Smith said. He crossed his arms.

  The merchant shook his head in irritation and scratched his chin. His eyes wandered as if following a math problem. "The best I can do is 8k, but that is split between XP and gold - your choice."

  "Deal," Smith said.

  The merchant stood close to him, almost threatening. "And that is hush money," he whispered. He walked away toward the loading area.

  Smith turned at us and chuckled. "This is kinda cool."

  "So what are we doing?" I asked.

  "It's an escort quest," Simone said. "We can't go straight to Nisa from here, but we can from the town over." She shrugged. "At least it's money."

  "Oh, here!" I said. "I got you something for fun." I reached in my bag and gave her the cat ears. When she saw them, she burst into laughter. I smiled. "I think it's +1 charisma," I said.

  "Oh, Jay," she said, wiping away the laughter and putting the ears on her head. "I told you bringing nipsies in was a good idea." She pulled me in for a hug and swung me around. Her armor was cold against my face.

  "And she's actually dressed as her role this time," Smith said. "You didn't even have a weapon yesterday."

  I shrugged. "I'm not even sure how to use this yet."

  "You'll have the opportunity," a voice behind me said. I turned to see the merchant returning. "We're heading out now."

  Chapter 7

  The Merchant

  We walked along the road, dodging muddy spots and puddles. The rains had come and gone by now, but the after-shower haze stayed behind. With the sea within earshot, the waves would blend with the wind in the trees, and sometimes we could not tell the difference.

  I walked in silence much of the time, allowing myself to drink in the world around me - the raw nature, the sounds, the smells, the feeling of wet pine brush against my skin. Was this truly a game?

  And, of course, my mind went to the dark place once again. Thoughts of my situation, my impending existential crisis that dropped on me like a multi-ton burden that I kept running away from. I remember the coffee freak and our conversation. "Hey, Relce," I whispered up at him.

  "Sup, nerd." His eyes didn't leave the path ahead. With every step, his afro jiggled, and his mustache swayed.

  "What's the MWR?"

  He didn't reply for a moment. "Morale, welfare, and recreation. You can buy movie tickets there."

  I narrowed my eyes at him. "No, I mean about the game."

  "Oh," he said with a chuckle. "Most call it MVVR, with two Vs. Only the weirdos call it MWR. It stands for Multiverse Virtual Reality. It's what the game runs on." He looked down at me. "Or your world I mean. No offense."

  Every time a person referred to me as one of them, one of the nipsies, it felt like a dagger twisted into my gut. "None taken."

  "At least you're cool about it. Some dudes lose their shit about their world being called a game. Most people just don’t understand it."

  I heard a laugh up front. Simone and Smith were walking hand in hand, giggling and laughing at each other. I was vaguely jealous, but I didn't know of who. At least Simone liked my gift enough to wear them. She looked powerful in her armor, rattling as she walked, but the ears on her head bounced and jiggled with every step. "Multiverse," I said. I let the word hang between us and rest in my mouth, savoring it. "Multiverse."

  "Uh, yeah," he said. "Yours is one of many. Probably the best though."

  "Why is that?"

  "Because shit's constantly changing. It's the first pure fantasy game. The other ones are locked in place with outdated mechanics. And the best part? It's super mysterious."

  "Mysterious," I echoed. I let my eyes rest ahead.

  "Yeah, dude. It just popped up on the list one day. It doesn't even have a name - just an instance ID. We just call it the other world. There's not even a known developer running it. It's all closed source."

  Was I apart of some conspiracy? Was I the victim of a crime? Maybe I was l
ocked in here in this game, my body kept alive on the other side, strapped to a VR module by military researchers or something. Was that coffee guy apart of it?

  I was getting ahead of myself. With every passing day, my mind inched toward actually believing in this world. Believing that this was the real world, and the other was the dream. I looked up at Relce. He was looking ahead at something, his brow furrowed.

  "Everyone!" Relce shouted. The authority in his voice echoed through the forest. "Get down!"

  I followed his gaze, but before I could see anything, I heard it. Thunk. Thunk thunk thack thunk. Arrows were streaming down on us, from which direction I couldn't tell. I hid under the wagon with Relce while Simone covered Smith with her shield. Trell was missing.

  "Rampart!" Simone called out. The air around her seemed to blur, to pulse and ripple. The stray arrow that would get past her defense would stop motionlessly in her aura.

  The rain of arrows stopped. For a moment, I didn't want to crawl out, but then I heard the order. "Form up!" Smith yelled. We crawled out from underneath the wagon and stood by them. We were standing in a field of arrows, sticking up like a poor harvest of wheat.

  "M-maybe we should hide in the forest," I asked. "We'd be harder to hit."

  "No," Smith said. "We'll face them here with pride. Like lions."

  I groaned internally.

  "They're coming," Relce said.

  The road ahead narrowed over a stone bridge, beneath it a creek. On the other side, roughly 50 meters away, figures appeared from the underbrush. Three of them, each dressed in hooded cloaks. Smith walked forward with his staff raised. "Let us pass!" he demanded.

  He was answered by another arrow. Thip. It sunk into Simone's aura before easing to the ground. A moment of quiet passed. Smith looked back at us. "Let's just rush em."

  "Wait," Relce said. "Dude, let's just walk up on them normally."

  Smith nodded. With Simone in the front, we walked closer toward them. The enemy never moved, not to shoot an arrow, to speak, or even to adjust their posture. When Simone stepped on the stonework bridge, she shouted. "Shit! Get back!"

  It was an ambush! Nearly a dozen figures hurled over the edge of the creek. Their swords and armor caught the sun that peaked through the clouds.

  With my new staff pointed at the right flank, I focused the spark at the tip. "Fire!" I yelled. It roared with heat and shook the air around me. Though I could not see past the flames and smoke, the clashing of metal made me jump and cringe. I switched it off.

  "Heal!" Smith shouted. "Heal! Heal!" He was spamming his spell on Simone, who was fending off three enemy knights. One had a halberd, the others with longswords.

  I felt a thud next to me. Trell had a cloaked figure on the ground and was wrestling with him. Was it an enemy rogue? Trell was losing, and he found himself on his back, gripping at the knife that was being pressed down on his throat.

  The bandit grunted at him. "This is what you get, you filthy player!"

  I could see him clearly with his cloak torn off his face. It was an ordinary guy - freshly shaved, youthful appearance, and short blond hair. Would a whisper save him? I pointed my staff at the rogue. With a voice low, an utterance nearly inaudible, I spoke. "Water."

  From the tip of my staff, a little squirt of water shot in his ear. Fsst. He panicked. It distracted him enough for Trell to get the upper hand, and before I could stop him, Trell plunged his knife into the poor boy's throat. The shock, the desperation, the regret. The boy sent these emotions to Trell, and he looked away, at me, and I felt them. I could only turn away.

  The fight was already over. With Smith's heal spam, Simone was able to solo the three knights. Relce out-sniped the enemy archer and took out the enemy healer. Trell killed two rogues.

  And I killed four nipsies.

  Among the laughter, the congratulatory pats on the pack, and the smiles of looting the dead, I felt conflicted. Not only did we really crush a group of baddies who got the jump on us, outnumbered us, and seemed to be better geared than us, but we also killed people. Usually, this wouldn't be an issue in a regular MMO, but this was the closest thing to reality I've ever experienced. Actually, for me it was reality. At least until I could return. If I could. Just more shit to pile on to my ever-increasing list of things to brood over.

  "Guys?" Simone called out. I could feel the panic in her voice. "Guys! Jay! Get here quick!" She was standing at the merchant's wagon. Arrows were stuck in the cloth cover and all around. The horse was shaking its head and digging at the dirt.

  We hurried over to find the merchant in his seat, arrows in his chest. "Man," Smith said. "We really screwed the pooch on this one."

  "Heal him!" Simone begged.

  "Oh, right. Heal!" Smith commanded, tapping at the corpse with his staff. The merchant's body did nothing. "Oh, he's dead." Smith scratched his neck. "Revive!" The body wiggled as Smith poked it with the staff. "Guys, I think we messed up."

  "It won't work," Trell said. He stood with arms crossed looking out into the forest. "He's a nipsy. When he dies, he dies. Just like the rest of us. Just like a normal person."

  A slight terror sparked into my soul. What would happen if I died here? If I were glitched or not, would I just straight up die? What psychological impact would that have on me? I shelved the thought for later, since having a panic attack in the middle of nowhere was not a good idea. We looked back at the body. The merchant was, undeniably, dead. "Um," I croaked out. "Now what?"

  Smith groaned and rubbed his hand on his face. "This sucks!"

  Simone put her hands out to calm the group. "Look, it's not too bad. We got loot, right? Lots of gold from those bandits, some equipment, and—”

  "And no XP," Smith finished.

  "Well," I offered, "can't we just take the merchant's stuff? He had XP on him, right?" Just the suggestion of looting an innocent man's corpse made me feel dirty.

  "Yeah, yeah," Smith said, his irritation rising. "I planned to loot him, but still no XP."

  I looked for help from the others. Simone took the hint and said, "The quest givers have to authenticate the XP before they hand it off. It's to prevent abuse, y'know?"

  "Like theft," Smith said, defeated. "Which is what we're about to do." He looked at each of us. "Anybody got a problem with that?" We all shook our heads. Trell said nothing. "Trell?" he shouted.

  "Huh?" Trell looked over at him. "I wasn't listening." He noticed us stifling our laughter and Smith's boiling impatience. "Yeah, it's fine. I'm a rogue. I steal things. I already stole like 300 gold from the guy earlier."

  Smith's anger melted away to a smile. He shook his head. "Alright, let's check out the dude's stuff."

  "No, not here," Trell said. "Pull the wagon into the trees. Anybody who rides upon us now will know what happened."

  Smith nodded. Simone hopped off the rider's bench and Smith, after a moment of learning how to control the horse, brought the wagon deeper into the forest. We followed, made sure no living soul was around, and swung open the cloth cover in the back.

  Boxes upon boxes, crates upon crates. Each we tossed into the dirt and ripped open. The first few held the usual merchant items - fabrics, tools, potions, alcohol. Trell popped the lock of the next one. Countless slips of paper spilled out into the grass. Scrolls!

  "Oh, sweet," I said. "Is this a jackpot?"

  Smith clapped his hands and rubbed them together. "Yeah, yeah, so this wasn't a waste after all. Alex, go through them. Split 'em up between us." Relce pushed another crate off the wagon. It thudded in the grass.

  I knelt down and scooped up a handful. They were blank. A jolt of disappointment went through me. I tossed them aside and got another. Half of them were blank. The other half were starter spells found in any merchant bargain bin. Fire, ice, heal, lightning, whistling arrow, four more fires, an earth, a whole buncha blank scrolls, and some tank spells that lost my interest. That was just a handful. Judging by the size of the crate, we could all fill out our repertoire of spells at least u
ntil we needed upgrades. Or sidegrades, if that was a thing.

  As I organized the scrolls by class, the others went through the last of the crates, finally stumbling on the XP and gold stash. As they were celebrating the haul, I stumbled on a piece of paper that wasn't a spell. It was a letter, sealed by wax without an addressee. "Hey, Smith," I said. "I got a letter."

  "And we just got twenty grand!" He gave me a devilish grin. It was almost contagious, and my face felt hot from the embarrassment. Was it embarrassment? "Lemme see that," he said.

  I handed it over. He ripped it open and drifted his eyes along the lines. After a moment, he broke into laughter. "What's it say?" I asked.

  "This dude wasn't a good guy, after all! He was a spy!"

  "Are spies... bad?" I tilted my head at him with mocking eyes, almost as a challenge.

  He rolled his hand. "Well, bad enough." He stared at it in thought, tapping it in his hand. "Should I report this?"

  "Maybe they'll give you XP," I said.

  He lifted his eyebrows and nodded. "This might change the future. Reshape the world."

  "Can I read it?" I asked.

  "No."

  "What?" I whined.

  "You're a liability."

  I narrowed my eyes at him.

  "No offense," he said. "But you're a... you know." His hands swam around the words.

  I narrowed my eyes even further. "Just say it."

  "Nipsy," he let out. "Yeah, sorry, I dunno why you're still sensitive about—"

  "Whatever! Keep it to yourself." I went back to my stack of scrolls. After a deep breath, I said, "You're probably right. I can't escape conspiracy stuff like you could." I vague sadness crept over me.

  He took another glance at the letter in his hands as he thumbed the corners. "The XP should make up the difference." He stuffed the letter in his robe.

  Chapter 8

  The Captain

  After a short trek, we arrived at the next town. It was much smaller than the starting city we came from, and it looked mostly like a town a traveler would sleep at during a long trip. There were a few ships moored at the docks, a number of houses and inns and the off bar. Stables, an apothecary, and a blacksmith that some other players were visiting. From the nearby field, the entire town smelled like cows.