NPC ReEvolution

by Rae Nantes

  "Explosion," I echoed in amazement. My inner pyromaniac squealed at the thought. Before I could realize it, I was grinning like a lunatic - almost drooling.

  We heard a ding from upstairs. He nodded upwards. "Come, come. We'll finish at the counter."

  Back inside the shop, we found a couple of players perusing the scrolls and wares - newbies. I sat in the corner while the old man showed off a couple of staves, upsold them some starting scrolls, and finished the deal. When they left, he beckoned me over.

  "You're a little behind," he said. "First thing is your new spells." He pulled out a slip of paper and wrote a single word in the middle: flare(). He pushed it across the counter.

  As soon as the words slipped across the gears in my head, I slapped my hand on it. "Yaaaas," I eased out. The paper flashed, and I felt the power.

  He smiled at my reaction. Perhaps he was used to it, being a trainer. "Flare is really the same as the starting fire, but it has a higher baseline of power. It will enable you to use white or blue flames without having to shout like a maniac." He chuckled. "It's also easier on the mana."

  "Okay, great! So I come back when I—"

  He held up his hand to stop me. "This spell," he pulled another slip and wrote another word on it, "will allow you to burn without flame." He pushed it over. It said broil().

  I narrowed my eyes but slapped my hand on it all the same. I drank in the knowledge, and I soon knew what he meant. This would allow me to radiate extreme heat without accidentally setting forests on fire - unless of course, I went past the flash point. "Neat!" I said. "Anything else?"

  "That's it for spells, but I have one thing to explain before you go. Have you heard of the arguments, yet?"

  I shook my head.

  "As you've seen written on the scrolls, there is the name of the spell followed by parenthesis. Within those, you may pass in these so-called arguments."

  "What are arguments?"

  "Directionals, usually." He pulled another slip of paper, drew a little stick figure on it, and spun it toward me. "You have above, below, center, left, right, front, and back." He drew arrows in the directions. "In your mind's eye you will designate a target, but when you say, for instance, fire(above), the attack will strike there." He tapped his pen above the figure.

  I nodded slowly with a furrowed brow. I had heard of arguments before and how they might be passed into things, but in the realm of magic, it was all foreign. "Will the magic fall on them?"

  "No, that is only the striking point or the starting point. Not too useful unless the target is moving quickly. To create a direction of movement, you pass in two arguments. For example, fire(above, below). The flame with manifest above your target and land beneath."

  It sounded super complicated, but I was excited to return to the forest. Soon enough I'd be zipping fires all over the place. "And I can only use directionals?" I asked.

  "No, no, other things can be passed in. Part of your training requires you to experiment to see what you can do. You must be creative," he said. "You must use intelligence in your problem-solving skills."

  I nodded. "Do I need to appraise my skills again?"

  He shook his head. "Nah. It'll make you more employable, but it's too much a pain to do often."

  "I thought I just get someone with special eyes to look at me."

  He burst into laughter. "Of course, not! You have to lift weights to test for strength, puzzle examinations for intelligence, flexibility for dexterity, even a public speaking and beauty audit! The whole thing's a farce."

  The Lord Priest really was just eyeballing it. "Well I guess I'm good, then," I said. "I appreciate everything."

  "Of course!" he said. "While you're here you should consider getting a better staff as well. That tree limb of yours might not prove too useful."

  After spending a few minutes showing me the various staves and rods and sticks, he was finally able to convince me to get a regular new staff – a boring, black rod. Cheap, practical, and fire resistant. With a quick, polite goodbye, I stepped back into the busy streets and headed out for my next destination. Arguably the most important of the trip.

  The bureaumancer’s office.

  It looked like an ordinary white-collar office, at least what my faint memories told me. Potted plants, dress shirts, and khakis. A professional-looking guy sat on the other side of the polished desk, his hair wetted back and his glasses dirty. “Alex, you said?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He nodded. The parchment in his hand populated with lines of text, any snippet of information the system had on file for me. He glanced over at me. “Level 15 Adventurer, right?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Okay, what did you want again?”

  “There should be a list of people who spawned at the shore,” I said. “Since I experienced the same thing, can I look at the others on the list?”

  This was my objective. I had already accepted that I was most likely a nipsy. Maybe I was the result of a bug, a glitch, or even just the product of the developer’s amusement. But all of that conjecture could only boil down into a maybe, and that wasn’t good enough. I wanted answers, and the next loose end for me to chase would be the people from the shore.

  The bureaumancer dug out another scroll and scribbled a few words into it. A pause came and went, and a list of names poured in. “Oh, wow,” he said. “This is a popular one.”

  “What?”

  “Huh? Oh, I was just talking to myself,” he said with a smile. “We bureaumancers can feel how many times a file has been requested, and this one in particular is quite popular.” He glanced it over with a furrowed brow. “I… don’t really understand why this one in particular is, but… sure, here you go.” He slid it over to me.

  A long line of names that I had never met, only some of which had family names tacked on. Dates were written beside them, most trickling back as far as two hundred years ago. I wasn’t sure if that was the origin point of people like me, or if that was the start of bureaumancy. “Can you look some of these people up?” I asked.

  He sighed. “Normally, there are privacy limitations. Unless you can provide authorization with a form A-29C, I can’t—”

  “Alive or dead,” I interrupted. “Just can you tell me who on that list is alive?”

  He paused and looked out the window. It was a bright, sunny day. It was crowded and noisy outside, but today was a slow day. “Sure, fine,” he said.

  And so he did. He scribbled some commands into the parchment, and the list of names expanded with dates and times and other bits of info. Many of them were, as expected, long dead while many others might’ve been still alive. “Not everything gets logged,” he explained. “And by being realistic with dates, I’d wager these two could still be alive.” He pointed at the last two names on the list – Naomi and Isaiah.

  “How could I find these people?” I asked.

  “Well, you could fill out a form A-28A and apply for an information request.”

  I glared at him.

  He went back to writing. “Nope, never mind. There’s nothing on these folks. The records could’ve been cleaned years before.”

  I groaned. “So I’m on my own again?”

  He shrugged. “Come back with the proper forms, and you’ll be able to see the records of the deceased. Maybe that could help you.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “I’ll do that and return again.”

  I headed out. The door squeaked, the bells chimed, the door slammed shut. The noise of the crowd returned, and the sun was warm against my face.

  "You finally done?" Trell was waiting for me outside the office.

  "Yep!"

  "Alright, let's hurry back. I have a lot of paperwork to do."

  We walked over the bridge into the market square and noticed a group of soldiers sprinting past us. I took a glance to see what the commotion was, but they soon turned a corner and out of sight. It might've just been military drills or some kind of group punishment. I thought nothing o
f it until we heard a cannon fire on the other side of town - the direction they were headed. There might've been a small skirmish, maybe some players got into a fight. It was really no business of ours, so we continued our stroll to the docks.

  As we were crossing a narrow alley between buildings, we saw another group of soldiers blur past. Their armor and weapons rattled up the street, their leaders hushing orders and swears under their breaths. Something was going on.

  We turned the corner that would lead us down the loading area. The ships were idling on the piers, some merchants hurrying this way and that, an old mother rushing toward and past us with her young granddaughter. The horizon held countless black ships from the sandbar to the coast. Trell and I stopped moving and took in the sight.

  Without speaking, Trell grabbed me by the wrist and sprinted down the ramp, up the pier, and to the first ferryman he could find.

  I yanked my hand free. "The hell is going on?" I said through my teeth. He didn't answer.

  "When's the next trip?" Trell demanded.

  The ferryman was standing on his ship, looking, staring, fearing the sight behind us. He paid no attention.

  "Hey!" Trell barked. "We need to leave!"

  The ferryman looked down at us. "We do. But we can't."

  Trell turned to look behind him, and I followed his gaze. Distant sparks, flashes, puffs of smoke. The horizon was rumbling with explosions. Those were cannons! Trell grabbed me by the arm and threw me into the water, following me in.

  A watery rush of air engulfed me to flee back to the surface. I was in shock as my body eased back up. Trell really needed to stop throwing me around like this. But then I felt it. Pulses and ripples from either side of me. The muffled sounds of wood shredding, stones shattering, and buildings collapsing. Debris shot into the water, bringing trails of dirt and air.

  I pulled my head back to the surface. From the moment it took me to shake off the water and reorient my senses, another volley crashed into the port. The ships seemed to be the target, as the sides of those wooden vessels would erupt and splinter into dust and flame. The city guards who were running to man the cannon emplacements were knocked into the water - forced to jump by a crumbling building.

  "Alex, pay attention!" Trell shouted over the noise. "We need to get to the other side of town!"

  We pulled ourselves to a half-fallen pier and sprinted up the ramp before Trell stopped halfway. Before I could ask what he was trying to do, he spun on his heels and looked back. Then, for the first time I had ever known him, a wild grin flashed across his face. I wanted to pinch his cheeks. "I have an idea," he said.

  We sprinted back down to the ships before he found what he was looking for - the ferry. The captain had already vanished, and no other sailors were around. "Trell," I said. "I don't think this is gonna work."

  He didn't answer. Instead, he cut the ropes that tied the ship to the pier and hopped aboard. "Get on," he said as he started working on the lone sail.

  I did. Another cannon volley slammed into the dock. Glass shattering, muffled explosions, screams, rolling return fire from the cannon emplacements. We were getting pelted by shards of rock and stone. "Trell, you aren't seriously thinking about—"

  "I am," he said.

  I looked out to the sea. Some of the ships were approaching while the others stood ready to fire another broadside. "You're gonna get us killed!"

  "I have a plan.”

  Chapter 15

  The Cogferry

  "Sir, there's no one on the ship." The marine took a step closer to me, looked around, then walked back to the other side. Beside us, a black ship idled as the sailors looked with disbelief. After firing several volleys at this fleeing vessel, they boarded it, then found nothing.

  "Are you sure?" a man from the black ship said. "They’re not hiding in chests or anything? Maybe they're hanging off the side."

  The marine, dressed in grey and black with a rifle at the ready, walked over to the side and peered down, scanning with his eyes. "No, sir. Nothin'."

  His superior shook his head. The other sailors and marines near him started to laugh at the entire situation. A lost, unmanned ship, filled with holes on the deck and a tattered sail. Whispers and murmurs were calling it a ghost ship. "Quiet!" he barked.

  He spoke to a nearby sailor, took something from her, lit it, and threw it over. The marine onboard with us jumped back when the hissing ball thudded on the deck. The young man just about jumped overboard before it popped with a flash.

  It was blinding. When I opened my eyes, I was staring down the barrel of a gun. "Uh, hello there," I said.

  A barrage of laughter from the black ship. Some of the sailors and marines started to pat the officer on the back at his brilliant idea.

  "Identify yourself!" the marine ordered.

  I eased my hands up in surrender. "I'm Alex."

  "And?"

  "And what?" I said. "I'm just Alex. That's it. That's my name."

  "Are you the captain of this ship?" he demanded.

  "It's a ferry. I was ferrying myself back home."

  "Arrest her!" the officer ordered.

  The marine reached over, grabbed my arm and pushed it at my back. "Whoa, wait!" I said. "You don't want to do that, I belong to a player guild."

  The marine paused. A short silence on the black ship followed. "Why... would I care about that?" the marine said.

  I lifted my head with the pride of a queen. "We are a powerful group of adventurers and mercenaries," I sang. "We strike fear into the hearts of evildoers and will crush all who oppose us. We are strong, for we are many!"

  I could feel the grip on my arm loosen, the marine behind me start to shake. Did it work? I turned my head to look at him. His hand was covering his mouth, concealing a stupid smile that was sliding into laughter.

  There was thunder in the distance. We all looked toward the town. Smoke was rising, ships were pouring out marines, and firefights starting. Sparks of different colors lit up the walls of the buildings - a mage duel.

  "Forget her and get back aboard, marine!" the officer shouted.

  "Yes, sir." He took a step, paused, and glanced back at me. "It was a good try." He had a big, dumb, stupid smile on his face.

  I wanted to roast it off. “Thanks.”

  With that, he jumped overboard and crawled up his ship. The black ship lifted its sails, catching and rolling in the wind, and took off to rejoin the invasion.

  For a moment, I stood in silence. Then I kicked Trell's shin. He stifled a chuckle. "Hey, hey," he said. "You did good just then."

  This jackass had veiled us both with shadow spells to hide us on the way back home, but he neglected to mention how it's borderline useless on other people. "All this just because you wanted to steal a boat."

  "It's a good ship," he said.

  "It was a good ship but running a blockade and getting broadsided and getting boarded turned it into a wreck."

  "Relax, kid. A little bit of polish and it'll be good as new."

  ***

  "Smith!" I yelled.

  I was waiting for him in the living room like a loyal dog when he finally logged in. He didn't even have the chance to open his eyes before I grabbed him in a hug and swung around.

  "Yeah, yeah, I'm back!" he said. "What's up? You're in a great mood today." He smiled at me as I backed away.

  "Tons have happened today. First, uh, I'm level 15 now."

  "Grats."

  "Thanks. Also, we have a ship now."

  He lifted an eyebrow. "How much was it?"

  I lowered my head and covered my mouth, almost too ashamed to say it. "We, uh, stole it."

  "What."

  I thrust out my hands to calm any wild idea he might've had. "No, no, maybe I told you in the wrong order."

  He crossed his arms, waiting for me to explain.

  "Uh, the capital got invaded."

  He burst into laughter. "Finally!"

  I tilted my head at him. "Finally?"

  He waved
the conversation away. "It's nothing big. It had something to do with that quest." He started off to his office. I trailed behind.

  "Wait, I didn't tell you how we got the ship."

  He dropped into his desk chair and stared at the map in front of him. There he had scribbled all sorts of diagrams and symbols, little dotted lines of territories and expansion plans. He dug out a pen and started to make amendments for the capital's new ownership. "Go ahead."

  I explained to him the sequence of events that led to the new cogferry that was resting on the beach. He nodded along with the story, but he seemed more intrigued by the change of borders on his map. I was a little disappointed, but I figured the others might be more excited to hear about my swashbuckling adventure. Now I knew to add in a bit more flavor to make it sound cooler.

  "Great, I appreciate it, Alex. That ship will really speed things up." My heart fluttered a bit when I heard him say my name. "There's probably going to be a huge amount of open quests, and we need to make sure we can assert our presence as a mercenary company." He tapped his pen in thought. "With more money flowing in, more people joining, and our base expanding, we'll need structure." He looked up at me from his seat. "Would you be cool with leading a squad of noobs?"

  The question surprised me. I never really considered myself as a leader, but I wasn't in much of a position to say no. "Yeah, I guess, but you better pay me more."

  He smiled. "Of course." He pulled out the blueprint of the base. At the moment, it was just the cabin, but other squares of land had been drawn on. "We've got about ten noobs the past week, and I'll be aiming for twenty this week. That's just a few shy of fifty. We have to expand the guild more."

  I smiled at his passion. "You're really enthusiastic about this, huh?"

  "I'm all about PVP. It's one of the main reasons I'm even playing this game." He drifted his finger over the map. "All these little squares here are player-made bases. He stabbed at one. "The Black Wings are here. The ones who jumped you and Tae in the town over."

  It was an embarrassing defeat that I had already forgotten about. Would we be able to take them now? Or were we still too weak? Should I even be challenging players?