As the days passed the cart rolled on. Icid and Rowan trained, getting accustomed to their bodies. And as they sat down for the last stretch of road they felt the familiar rush of knowledge flooding into their head.
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You have ascended from [Lesser Criminal Scum] to [Criminal Scum] gaining [Blast Leap].
You can now make a high power leap exceeding your natural capabilities, but doing so will damage your legs severely.
You have ascended from [Novice Arachne] to [Lesser Arachne] gaining [Fury].
You can now, at will, activate all your learned combat procs at once. But you will suffer severe exhaustion once [Fury] fades.
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“So, I became just ‘Criminal Scum’? What does that even mean? Why does only to front part change now?”
Icid rolled her eyes.
“It’s rank ascension, not class ascension. Besides, it is the ‘collective tier’, which is an agglomeration of all your individual levels. Little information can be gained from it except your global power.”
…
“Those words mean nothing to me.”
“Fine, fine, I will give a quick summary. That ‘Criminal Scum’ is your class.
It consists of two parts.
A class tier growing from 0 to high, described by a specific name like Rouge or Mage.
And a rank going from Novice to Greater, representing your overall strength in that class.
For each tier, you will have to ascend through all the ranks to advance to the next tier.”
“Right, I derived most of that, but what does it represent and how does it work?”
“Well, it represents lots of things we can’t see right now. The developers wanted to make to spreadsheets optional, so that the average player can better emerge themselves. It requires someone with the right skills to look into the details.
But if you could, you would be concerned with three numbers. Your level of body, mind and soul. Those are the major determining factors for your tier, rank and class.
As you play the game you get levels in various things like:
[Body (Capra) level 3] or [Mind (Thief) level 5]
They determine your current set of abilities and collectively give you your class. Although you can get more than three skills:
[Mind (Thief) level 5]
[Carpenter level 2]
You can only have three active at the same time, one of body, one of mind and one of soul. In order to swap them out, you have to go through a set of long and complicated procedures. There are a lot more nuances, but that is the global outline.”
“So things are happening that we can’t see. They combine into something that tells us practically nothing. And this results in a system for which we cannot predict the future outcomes?”
“For now.”
Rowan sighed loudly.
“Driver, how long till we arrive?”
“We are pretty much there, just tell me where you want to be dropped off.”
A goat and a spider walked into a bar. Some of the late night crowd had already gathered. The last vestiges of half-eaten spit roast, baked potatoes, spiced bread and smoked sausages were being carried off to the large kitchen.
An impressively large hearth stood as the centrepiece of the room. New arrivals huddled close to drive away the chills from the sudden cold snap outside. It was ornamented with stringed bells and stone bowls as all hearths were in this world.
Most of the bar's patrons wore their full suits of armour and weapons proudly. Except for the occasional long polearm or face covering helmet. Talk of business and money mixed with old-fashioned drinking and merrymaking.
Elves played cards with minotaurs and wraiths peered over maps with lizardmen. A dwarven bard sang raunchy songs on a small stage, accompanied by the occasional cheer or tossed coin.
The Rowan looked around and after a while gesturing to Icid that she should follow. Nobody glanced at goat longer than a second. To the spider, they gave a slightly longer look, but eventually turned back to their own business nonetheless.
Rowan and Icid walked unperturbed through the joyous crowds to a table in the far back. Six people were already seated and had become engaged in a rowdy game of cards.
Three old hands, clearly distinguishable by the quality of the gear they were wearing, played on the left. A duo of newcomers sat beside them in unimpressive armour.
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One was a shy looking boy rabbit and the other a sharp-eyed girl bird. The boy's gear seemed of similar make to Icid and Rowans starting equipment. And although the girl's amour looked like starter equipment too, it was clearly of a more expensive make.
The last person at the table was a man whose fashionable clothing would be noteworthy, if they were not completely overshadowed by his enormous moustache.
Rowan and Icid had left their own armour in storage as soon as they arrived in the bloody heights. Instead of the shabby stuff they used to wear, they were now dressed in a set of fine fabrics adorned with decorative pins and buttons. They had also bought nice form-fitting leather bags, pouches and some simple jewellery.
Icid did not like the idea of leaving her armour aside for normal clothes. It went against every video game principle to go around questing without combat gear. But Rowan had found it of high importance that they displayed some class.
They had hoped to buy some good gear, as was the standard clothing for most travellers. But good quality amour was insanely expensive, so they had settled for civilian attire.
“Look, look, more newcomers to join the table. Come here, don’t be shy!”
The moustache of a man waved his hands and fetched a couple of chairs as Icid and Rowan approached. Rowan took her seat opposite the moustache without question and Icid moved on the stool beside her.
Before anyone could get a word in edgewise, the man started speaking again.
“We were just discussing it would be good to have some more hands around the table. You familiar with the rules?
Of course you are, there is no way young lasses like you aren’t. Don’t worry, we play with small bets tonight.”
He rattled at an amazing speed, giving Icid scarily the time to interject. At this point, she had not the slightest idea what card game was even being played.
But in seconds, someone had already stuffed cards into her hands and betting had started to the other side of the table. Before she knew it was her turn and all eyes pointed in her direction.
“Ehmm…”
She felt herself turning beet red as she looked and the eight of hearts and three of spades in her hand. Was this poker or something? Was her hand good?
Before this she had literally only played variations of old maid, thus she had no clue. But the pressing atmosphere of all the people watching made it very hard to admit that.
She did not even know why Rowan suddenly wanted to go inside and play cards. The last couple of evenings they had walked in and out of bars without asking questions and rarely even stopped for a bite to eat.
Rowan had told her to not ask about Scrounger Jack anywhere, in case it might attract trouble. Was he here at this table? Why not ask him to talk in private?
She just wanted to watch the game, not play. Why did that man have to put cards in her hand without asking?
Her discomfort grew as she looked at the stack of bets.
She had always thought of gambling as a pastime where the poor tied albatrosses around their own necks. A hobby for people like her father.
I don’t want any of this, I don’t want any of this.
Just when she was about the attempt to escape.
“She calls.”
Rowan barked as he shifted a stack of coins Icid way.
“Right…”
Icid hung her shoulders and fished out five bucks, adding it to the pile in the middle. The game continued on as the moustachioed man started talking again.
“So, now that the game is underway let me introduce everyone.
The three gentlemen are veterans of the guild: Bob, Willcus and John. Then we have the two fresh recruits. The handsome lad over here is Rid.”
On those words, the rabbit made a small and embarrassed bow.
“And the lovely lady on the other side is Revvel.” The bird gave a small nod, her sharp gaze drilling into Icid’s many eyes.
“Who am I forgetting…
Oh yes, me. The name is Jack, Jack Goodwill. I am not officially part of the guild, but come here to do business often.
I arrange trades and non-corporeal value and meditate to get property to come up for sale, in-laws getting written, and to ensure countless other agreements being signed or voided. It is an absolute pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
He stood up from his chair and made a gallant bow to both Rowan and Icid separately.
Icid could not help but give a grimace. Was this the person who they had spent almost a week travelling and searching for?
He was quite squishy, looked completely un-athletic, was boisterous, but also quite pleasant and was above all very loud.
She had a hard time imagining him partaking in hard-core criminal activity. He seemed like the type of person whose conflicts with the law were limited to public drunkenness and attempting to flirt with the policewoman giving him a parking ticket.
Well, his occupation seemed a little wormy, but he just looked too much like a cuddly teddy bear to do actual harm.
“So, my dear guests, who are you and what brings you to our table?”
The gazes completely ignored Rowan and went straight to her. She started to become sweaty at all the attention.
It felt like she had been dragged in front of the class and told to explain why she hadn’t done her homework. Too many people, too many strangers, too many ways to get hurt.
“Ehh…”
“This is my colleague, Icidae Salt. We run a small trading business, dealing in speciality goods. The night was turning frigid, so we thought we would go talk with the locals to get… a lay of the land, as it were.”
Rowan took over the introduction and a weight fell from Icid shoulders. This wasn’t like the past, she wasn’t here alone.
She had her goat. Her somewhat crazy, rough and venom tongued goat. Even after about a week of crying, throwing insults and failing horribly, she was still here, still at her side.
Noticing Rowan’s furry warmth at her side and leaned in somewhat closer. A small comfort came over her, like a soft blanket.
It was alright, her crazy crook of a goat would talk them all under the table, even if she messed up. Jack flipped over some cards and took another hard look at his own hand before continuing.
“Very interesting, what type of speciality goods?”
“Collectibles mostly, prised rings, rare jewels, paintings. Objects that hold greater value due to their reputation than their pure utilitarian use.”
The ends of Jack’s moustache twitched and something stirred inside his eyes.
“Do you have anything particular you are selling right now?”
Rowan shifted in her chair and leaned over the table.
“Well…”
She paused for a moment and seemed to be thinking on something.
“It is not quite for sale, and I shouldn’t be showing it at all, but…”
Everyone leaned in closer, clearly becoming interested.
“I got my hand on a most interesting specimen recently.”
With that rowan fished out an ornate box from her pocket.
She made a check to see if no one from the other tables was looking.
The box opened with a soft click, revealing the gold dragon ring inside. Gasps escaped from the table’s other occupants, with the exception of Revvel and Jack.
“Isn’t that one of Scha’vun pact rings?”
“Must be, it fits the description perfectly.”
“Do people collect those? That sounds like a good way to get a knife thrust into your back, or worse.”
“The rich will collect anything they are not supposed to have.”
The veterans broke into an excited discussion and even the quiet Rid seemed eager to join them.
Once again the ring proved somehow important…
Were all these people NPCs? Held the ring importance outside of Icid’s personal questline? Were none of them NCPs? Did the AI system feed information to players beforehand, knowing it would be useful for another player’s questline later?
Icid’s head started to throb, so she shut down that train of thought.
At least Rowan was right on one point, thinking on these matters goes nowhere. All she could do was believe, preferably believe that they were all AIs. Nothing worse than an actual human after all.
Suddenly Revvel’s voice cut through the discussion like a knife.
“It is obviously a fake."