Name: Hugin
Threat: Challenging
Disposition: Annoyed
Health: Unknown
Resistance: Unknown
Vulnerabilities: Unknown
Advanced Combat Skills: Unknown
Hugin is the slumlord of several dilapidated tenement houses and rents out floor space to those with just enough money and desire not to sleep on the streets.
Another thing Quantum Mortalis did differently than previous MMORPGs was placing a severe limit on the basic perception ability. The only reason Riccon could see the man’s name and background information was because it was something his character would have known. Rogues and other classes who preyed on players and NPCs gained an improved perception ability due to their skill in identifying potential victims.
As a rogue archer, Riccon could also improve his perception skill through the scout skill tree. Even improved perception tended to yield little more than basic information beyond race, base class, and potential strength. Without magical aid, a player would never know a person’s name, level, skills, or hit points. Quantum Mortalis wanted to make Mortalia as real as possible. As real as a magical world could be, anyway.
“You owe me rent, Riccon,” Hugin said in a gruff voice. The stench of cheap booze on his breath was strong enough to reach Riccon even as he lay on the floor.
Riccon rolled off the tattered bedroll and stood up. “How much do I owe you?”
“A full month. Two silvers.”
Great, Riccon thought, five seconds into the game and I already owe a debt.
He opened his player inventory to check his starting money. Ten silver and ten copper. The man wanted nearly a fifth of his wealth. Riccon had a choice. He could pay the man, or he could skip out and hope Hugin did not have a large network of debt collectors capable of tracking him down in a city as large as Ambercross.
As much as Riccon was loath to surrender so much of his starting money, he did not want to spend his first week or more looking over his shoulder. He pulled out the coins, which appeared to come from a pocket to Hugin’s eyes thanks to the game filters that prevented NPCs from questioning odd things like people coming back to life, talking about the real world and a game world, and producing items seemingly from thin air.
Player inventory was one of the few things Quantum Mortalis allowed to take away from the sense of realism. It simply wasn’t practical to create a game where one of the primary purposes was to acquire items, wealth, and crafting materials and have to rely on realistic methods of storage and transportation. Pulling wagons through forests and into caves and dungeons was simply too impractical.
QM did put some strict limitations on the player inventory, however. Players could not access their inventory when restrained or purposefully confined, and there was a timer for retrieving items while in direct combat. If a player thought they might quickly need an item during a fight, they had to place it on their person. While this made the item readily available, it also made it lootable if killed by another player.
Player inventories were not lootable, and all items contained within it, as well as “bound” items, stayed with the player when they respawned. Anything on the player’s person was lootable by other players upon death, as well ten percent of their total wealth contained in their personal inventory, meaning coins, valuable ores, and gems.
Riccon closed his fist around the coins and drew his hand back. “I can’t really afford to lose this much money at this time. Is there anything I can do to work off my debt?”
A lascivious grin spread across Hugin’s face. “You ain’t pretty enough even if I were the sort to take you up on your offer.”
“I meant actual work, not play find the needle in the haystack.”
To Riccon’s surprise, Hugin laughed instead of being insulted. “Now that you mention it, there is something you might be able to help me with. A fellow by the name of Arin owes me twelve silver. You collect all twelve and I’ll forgive your debt.”
“Throw in another two silver for me and you have a deal.”
Hugin’s grin fell and he pursed his lips. “All right, it’s a deal, but you have send a message to Arin and anyone who sees him that I’m not a man they can steal from.”
Riccon shrugged and nodded. “I can do that.”
A small blinking light, like an eye mote, flashed in the lower left corner of Riccon’s eye. He clicked on the system alert with a thought, and a semi-transparent screen filled about a quarter of his vision.
You have been given a quest: Show me the money. Hugin wants you to collect a debt from Arin. Requirements: Find Arin and collect twelve silver from him in a way that sends a clear message to people to pay Hugin what they owe or else. Reward: Forgiveness of your own debt, 2 silver, and 100 XP. Difficulty: Moderate.
Riccon opened a second system message.
You have learned a new skill: Haggle. Your keen negotiating skills convinced Hugin to kick in an extra two silver to get the job done.
Haggle: Level 0, Grade 1. You gain +0.1% chance to improve any offer made to you. Charisma based. Total bonus: -4.9%. -5% from Charisma: 5. +0.1% from haggle skill level. Raise your Charisma and Haggle skill to improve your chances of negotiating a better deal and improving the payout of deals made. Can also affect prices of goods sold or purchased. Rank: Initiate.
“Can you tell me what he looks like and where I should start looking for him?” Riccon asked.
“He’s a tall, skinny bloke with a big, crooked beak. He’s usually hanging out at one tavern or another around Dockside. Your best bet is to find him early before he drinks or gambles all his money away.”
“I’ll get right on it.”
Although not new to QM, Riccon still marveled at the feel of the door’s rough grain as he pushed it open. The small things like this truly brought the game world to life and made it indistinguishable from reality. The dull, general din he had heard from inside the group home clarified into the myriad sounds of people talking and yelling, horse hooves clopping against the poorer district’s packed earthen streets, and the hubbub of city life the moment he opened the door.
The city was awash in people, noise, and smells, all of which was an assault to his virtual senses. He tuned them out as best he could and made for Dockside. The expansive district stretched across a wide but narrow strip of the city and butted up against the sea. Ambercross was one of the largest port cities in the world and boasted over a score of piers stretching out into the huge bay like wooden fingers raking in the unending stream of trading ships ready to unload their precious cargos.
Wretch Stretch, the colloquial name given to the poor section of Ambercross in which Riccon found himself, abutted Dockside. He kept a wary eye out for potential threats even though attacks within the city were somewhat rare. Cities like Ambercross had a vigilant city watch and high-level city guards.
The guards were posted mostly in high-class districts, the castle, and along the city walls to protect against invaders. They would not get involved in petty criminal activities unless it became something the watch could not handle on their own, like high-level adventurers who get powerful enough to think the rules did not apply to them.
Players who started to think like that would be in for a big surprise. The game used a sliding power scale for watch and guards that adjusted to somewhat match the level of whoever was causing problems. One of the funniest things Riccon had seen during his beta testing was when a large group of middling adventurers had decided to act up.
It had been a somewhat fair fight until a high-level player deliberately struck one of the guards with a weak fire bolt. His involvement caused the system to adjust the level of the guards and watch in the area to match his relative power, and the battle turned into a slaughter of the troublesome players.
The GMs, or game masters, had to make a few tweaks to the system afterward so one person couldn’t upset the balance so dramatically, but it was still there and could cause a lot of problems for those who sought to carve out their
own little kingdom whether inside the city or anywhere within the civilized lands.
The game would not allow a bunch of high-level adventurers to simply evict the ruling NPCs, but there were some mechanics that did allow for conquest. It just required the alliance of other NPC nations or groups to achieve it. It kept players, who could amass far more power than most NPCs individually or even as nations could.
Players could not rule anything larger than a middling or large town, and then only whatever the NPC monarch decreed them through either significant gold or deed. Usually both. Matrice was protective of her world, and she would guard it from any threat from within or without.
More than a few rough-looking men eyed Riccon as he made his way toward Dockside, but he knew the best defense against trouble was to look like a predator and not prey. Casting your eyes down and avoiding eye contact in hopes of being ignored was the worst thing to do when you did not want to draw unnecessary attention. Attitude and power, even the perception of it, was the key to success. Here, he was Riccon, and Riccon was everything Eddie was not.
He reached Dockside without running into any trouble, or trouble running into him, and began looking around the taverns for a man fitting Arin’s description. Riccon prepared himself for a long and boring search, as it seemed that every other building along Dockside’s half mile-long stretch of the city was a tavern. Luck was with him however and he found a man he was almost certain was Arin after lingering in the third tavern he tried.
The man was just as Hugin had described. He was tall with long, greasy, black hair and a large, narrow nose hooked like a hawk’s beak. As Riccon studied the man, his perception ability finally revealed some information.
Name: Arin.
Race: Human scoundrel.
Disposition: Neutral.
Threat level: Moderate.
Scoundrel was the generic class given NPCs with a low reputation and no real skill. His threat level was tagged as moderate, which could mean a skilled fighter at or just below Riccon’s level and ability or an unskilled fighter a few levels higher than him. Since he had only his starter weapon and had not advanced any of his martial skills, Riccon decided to take a cautious approach.
Besides, Hugin did not say he wanted him dead, and Riccon did not want to run afoul of the law so early in the game. Without a thieves’ guild to protect him, if anyone witnessed him murdering someone, there was no way he could remain in the city. He probably wouldn’t even make it out before the watch arrested him.
Being arrested was the worst punishment the game could give a player with the exception of banning or deleting your character, which almost never happened. Prison sentences began at an hour and went up from there depending on the severity of your crimes and infamy level.
It was an effective punishment because players had to sit around a jail cell until they served their time in full. They could log out as often as they wanted for however long they wished, but only their logged in time counted. While you sat and thought about how you could have been playing the game, your friends and enemies were leveling up and having fun. It was a grown-up time out, and it sucked.
For a low-level character facing a long sentence, most people chose to delete their toon and create another one. You could have more than one character in the game and switch between them, but there was a timer based on the character’s level, meaning you had to wait a certain amount of time before entering the game with a secondary toon. Your aliases were also visible to anyone with more than a basic perception skill. That was to prevent players from using multiple characters to exploit or spy on other players, guilds, and NPCs.
Like the real world, QM allowed players to do just about anything they wanted, but every action had consequences. In Riccon’s beta game experience, it did a good job of keeping players in line with just enough people willing to break the law to make it interesting without creating chaos and anarchy.
As Riccon watched the man drink, he knew he needed to come up with a plan quickly if he was to have any chance of recovering Hugin’s money. Arin was downing cheap swill one after another and only slowed down a little after his third cup. It was early, and there was only a few other people in the tavern, and none of them paid any attention to anyone else.
Riccon decided direct confrontation and some bluffing was the best course of action. He got up from his table and sat on the stool next to Arin, his iron dagger held tight against his leg.
“Arin, Hugin needs you to pay your debt,” Riccon said without preamble.
Arin stiffened, and his hand flinched toward his side. Riccon slid his dagger up the back of the man’s filthy shirt and pressed the cold blade against the skin covering his vulnerable kidney.
“Let’s not have any of that, Arin,” Riccon warned in a soft yet confident voice. He reached across with his free hand and took the hunting knife from the sheath hanging from Arin’s belt as well as the small pouch of coins.
You have received steel hunting knife. Quality: Good (+10% base damage and durability.) Base damage: 7. Durability: 19/25. You have received 3 silver and 14 copper coins.
“All Hugin wants is his money. Surely even your wretched life is worth more than twelve silver. To you, anyway. Not to me.”
Arin slowly laid both his hands onto the bar. “I got Hugin’s money, but it ain’t on me. Not all of it anyway. I’ll have to go back to where I’m hunkering down to get it.”
“That’s fine. I prefer to conduct my business in private. First, I want you to loosen your belt, stuff your right hand deep inside your trousers, and then cinch it up tight.”
Arin swallowed nervously and did as he was told.
“I bet you could get another notch in that if you sucked in your gut a bit,” Riccon said.
Arin huffed as he let the air out of his lungs and pulled the belt tighter.
“Good job. Finish your beer, or whatever you called that fermented piss you’re drinking.” Arin downed the last of his cup. “Now, you and I are going to walk out of here like old friends, and you’re going to take me to Hugin’s money. I’ll warn you just one time; make any false moves or draw the attention of friends or the watch and it’s the last thing you do in this life. Even if you do get away or get me arrested, my friends will fulfill the contract, and then they’ll deal with you at personal level.”
Sweat began to bead on Arin’s brow. “You with the guild?”
“Right now, I’m with you, and that’s all you need to worry about. Stand up and let’s go.”
Congratulations, your words and demeanor have cowed your victim. You have opened the skill Bluff. When you’re dealt a bad hand, go all in and bluff your opponent into conceding.
Bluff: Level 0, Grade 1. +0.1 percent increase in chance to bluff an opponent. Bluff is modified by either your Strength or Charisma attribute, whichever is highest. It is also improved by your fame or infamy score as well as the threat level perceived by your target. Current base bonus to bluff: -4.9%. Increase the skill or its corresponding attribute modifiers to improve chance of bluffing. Rank: Initiate.
That’s a useful skill, Riccon thought, but as a magic and dexterity based class not one I’ll be able to rely on. Arin must have perceived me as a greater threat than I really am or it probably wouldn’t have worked.
Riccon wrapped his arm around Arin’s waist as if helping him maintain his balance, his new hunting knife pressed against Arin’s stomach beneath his shirt. Arin led him a few blocks from the tavern to a narrow alley between two buildings where he had built a small shack or evicted its previous owner and taken it over. The doorway was just an opening between boards covered with a tattered piece of sailcloth.
Riccon pushed Arin in ahead of him. “Where’s it at?”
Arin tapped a flagstone with his foot. “Under there.”
Riccon looked around the tiny room and spied a short length of thin rope. He pulled Arin’s free arm behind his back, tied it tightly to the one stuffed down his trousers, and pushed him into a sitting position on th
e floor. Casting the man a look of warning, Riccon knelt, pried the flagstone up with his knife, and took out the pouch of coins hidden beneath it.
You have found thirteen silver and twenty-three copper coins.
Arin watched the man slip the entire pouch into his pocket and cried, “Hey, you’re taking a good deal more than I owe Hugin!”
Riccon turned and faced Arin as he stood back up. “My services don’t come free, and Hugin shouldn’t have to lose money just to get back what you owe him.”
“This is bullshit!”
“No, this is business.”
“It’s robbery!”
Riccon shrugged and grinned down at the man. “Which just happens to be my business.”
“Damn it!” Arin spat. “Fine. We done here?”
“Not quite. There’s a small matter of interest.”
“Interest? You took all my damn money! How the hell am I supposed to pay interest?”
“Lucky for you, Hugin’s interest isn’t paid with money.” Riccon tore two long strips from Arin’s ratty blanket and began wrapping them around his hands. “Actually, it might unlucky for you, depending on your point of view and priorities.”
Arin blanched and tried to scoot away. “Hey, look, we can work something out. I can get you more money!”
Riccon shook his head. “Sorry, money won’t fulfill the requirements of my contract.” He loomed over the man and paused with his fist cocked back. “Actually…” Arin’s face showed a glimmer of hope. “I’m not sorry. I rather enjoy this when I’m not on the receiving end.”
Arin’s look of hope vanished along with most of his recognizable features as Riccon pummeled him for two agonizing minutes. Eddie had been a favorite target of bullies since first grade, but as Riccon, he got to be in the position of strength and he relished it. Maybe a bit too much.
Congratulations! You have learned the skill: Unarmed Combat. By repeatedly punching your foe in the face, you have learned the basic technique of proper punching.
Unarmed Combat: Level 0 Grade 1. +0.1% increase to attack when attacking without a weapon. Contributing attributes: Strength: 5, -5% damage to all physical attacks. Agility 8, -2% aim and speed. Adjusted unarmed combat skill: -4.9% damage, -1.8% aim.
Chaos Unchained- The Mad Smith Page 3