Dying this time was different. Sure, I was disappointed that I had broken my stick and I felt a little foolish for just running off without telling Argyle. It did hurt, but I no longer felt trapped. It was just a game.
Well, in a more technical sense, yes, I was trapped. I couldn't log out, but I also couldn't bring myself to care just now. I had exactly what I'm pretty sure I had always wanted: the freedom to just play. To explore, to get into trouble, and to get myself out of trouble. To fight fantastical battles and defeat monsters.
I almost felt like just running straight out and giving it another try. Well, after I find the market and replace my stick, that is. I wonder what kind of thing I should get to replace it?
Finding my way down to the common room, I saw Argyle. He was in our usual spot with about a dozen half-finished rabbit fur headdresses spread out on the table in front of him. He was rocking back and forth, mumbling. I couldn't quite tell everything that he was saying, but something about being alone and counting on people. I couldn't quite make complete sense out of it.
“Hey Argyle. Looks like you've been busy.”
He almost sprang out of his chair as if a firecracker had gone off right behind him. He looked at me for a moment like he couldn't believe I was really there, before shaking his head, wiping his eyes, and coughing. “Hey Finch. I, yeah, I got started with crafting without you. Um, I didn't know when you would be back, so I just...” He looked down at his toes in that way he had when there was something on his mind.
“Something the matter, man?”
He took a long slow deep breath “No man, I’m... I'm good. I'm good. Hey, you said you wanted to check out the market. Why don't we,” and he gestured at the table in front of him, “finish up here and then maybe we go and check that out together?”
“Great,” I let out the breath I'd been holding since I saw him and dropped down next to him immediately to work.
It was several minutes before his smile returned. It wouldn’t be until much later before it reached his eyes.
Disappointment.
The word hung in my mind like blinders on a horse. I couldn't look Argyle in the eye as we walked silently through the streets. I knew I was a disappointment. We had agreed to craft and I had just gone galavanting to the Abandoned Mine. He probably hated me right now. Hell, he probably thought I had abandoned him.
Nothing was working. Nothing was going right. This game was getting to me. I wanted so badly to help, and at the same time, all I could think about was the next quest, fighting monsters, getting loot, building up my character. As soon as I put my mind to doing something helpful, something real for Argyle, the game would just get me hyped up and ready for action. Before I knew it, I would be running away from my friend. I was an jerk, and I knew it, and that only made me want to run away more.
We turned down the street between the goblin tinker and the bakery. I had caught a distant glimpse of the market when I tried get past the cart. It was so full of life, so much hustle and bustle, energy, and excitement. Everything our mood wasn’t.
Everywhere you looked there was bright colors and loud noises, a cacophony of vendors crying out their wares. Smells from dozens of street foods assaulted the nostril like an olfactory Jackson Pollock painting. We floated glumly through it all like oil on water, present, but apart.
“Over here is where I sell stuff,” said Argyle woodenly. I followed him to a large pavilion labeled general goods. “Not every cart will just let you sell stuff and most that will only buy things that are related to what they normally sell. You could spend all day looking for a shop that may or may not buy what you're selling. In the end, it'll still be random if the price they offer us is any better than this one here.”
He walked up to the shopkeeper and didn't say a word. He just nodded and then turned around back to me. “All right. I got a decent price for it. Looks like our Skills are going up.”
A window popped up in my vision. “Argyle the Car-gyle has gifted you with 127 Gold.”
“What's this?” I asked.
“It's your cut.”
“My cut? But we're doing this for...”
“No bro. I can't expect you to just do all this for me and not get paid. Besides, if you decide you want to, I don't know, take off at some point, you know you'll at least have something to show for your time.” This was said in nearly perfect deadpan with something almost, but not entirely like, a smile on his face. But the dancing muscles at his jaw told me it wasn't so. “Come on. Let's go to the bank.”
“The bank? But aren't we here to shop?”
“Yeah, I just put half my money in the bank, depending on the exchange rate, I might convert to currency. You know, that way I don't wind up spending it or losing it. Got to be extra careful. Come on.”
Whatever had gotten into Argyle, I didn't like it. It was making my stomach turn in knots, and made me want to lose my lunch.
Pushing through the front door of the bank, everything around me changed. I was now sitting in a plush leather seat. The force of momentum was pushing me backwards. The deep bass and rapid drums of rock and roll music played through speakers built into the seat’s head rest. I looked over at the person who was driving and recognized the face of Buck Chaston, a Formula One racer. It seemed he’s spending his retirement making as many advertisements as possible.
He shifted the gears and looked at me. “Don't worry, I've got this all under control, just like capital NFT has your finances under control.”
He took a turn and sharply we hydroplaned across a deep puddle, a fan of water spraying just outside of my window. He effortlessly brought the car back under control without even seeming to break a sweat. “You see, Capital NFT's trained investment specialists know how to get your finances right back on track.” He turned sharply the other way and managed to pass two other cars to get in the lead. “Never miss a turn in the market again with Capital NFT. They won't just get your finances in order, they’ll get you ahead.”
Ahead signs saying, “Road closed! Dangerous cliff!” blocked our way. He swerved and tapped the brakes smoothly, effortlessly. He stopped right before the road would have ended. The world beyond fell into endless nothing. “We won't let you fall off a financial cliff. Trust Capital NFT.” The car faded and I was once again standing next to Argyle.
”Class Skill ‘I can do That.’ Activated you have learned the Skill Driving. You have learned the Advanced Skill Race Car Driving. You have learned the Advanced Skill Trick Driving. Trick Driving and Race Car Driving have all been combined into one Skill: Driving Master. Because these Skills were learned by masters from masters, your initial Skill level in each is level 20: Advanced. You have gained your first Advanced Skill. Advanced Skills replace Basic Skills and while they do narrow the focus in the Skill, they do allow for more advanced maneuvers, attacks, and tricks. Current Skill in Driving Master level 40: Expert.”
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While this Skill definitely sounded fun, I just couldn't see it having much utility in a medieval setting. Unless I was going to get in some kind of chariot race, I probably wouldn't be putting it to use anytime soon.
“Well, I guess that's just more padding for if I ever lose a level. Consider Haberdashery safe,” I said to Fez.
“That was awesome!” yelled Argyle. “I’m gonna go again.” Apparently, all it took to improve his mood was a ride in a fast car. “I can't believe it. THE Buck Chaston. That man is a legend.”
As he took another spin in the investment ad, I looked around. The bank seemed like it had gone out of its way to find architecture that screamed, “Bank!” High vaulted ceilings, marble tile. A dozen tellers sitting neatly behind identical windows, all with pens on golden chains.
Argyle emerged laughing again. “Wow, that ad’s new. Things can't be all bad with this game if they're putting in new ads Am I right?”
I forced a smile. “Yeah, of course. Right.” I figured now probably wasn't the best time to tell him about the new Skill I had gained from that car ride. If he was angry at me, there's no point in making him both angry and jealous.
He was treating the advertisement like a ride at the fair that he wanted to go on again, and again, and again. Eventually I had to spoil his fun just a little. “All right, seventh time's the charm. We're here for a reason.”
“Oh, right.” He stumbled as he changed directions. His patented dopey look took its rightful place on his face. He walked over to a teller and almost immediately turned around. “The exchange rates pretty good today. I don't know if the game is popular, or the dollar is weak, but I just converted it all into dollars. This afternoon alone has gotten me more than I used to make in a week and a half. You really have changed things here for me.” He clapped me on the back. “Look, I'm sorry I was gloomy earlier. I just, whatever. It's not a big deal. But man, I just gotta say I appreciate everything you do.”
I perked up. He wasn't mad at me after all. I breathed a sigh of relief. “All right. Let's go get some gear. I've got all this loot burning a hole in my pocket.”
Between my cut of the Jackalope's loot and today's crafting, I had almost 300 Gold, plus what was left of my Emerald stash. I was ready to do some serious shopping. I had decided to ignore the aesthetic gear for now and focus on gear that would be immediately helpful. Since my main Skill was Golf, I figured I might as well play to my strengths.
I purchased a warhammer. Now, when most people think of warhammers, they think gigantic mallets or huge, bulky hammers, like a comedian from the 1980s might use to break open a watermelon. In fact, warhammers are not quite that bulky. They do, in general, have about a three to four foot shaft with a heavy iron hammer on the end.They look like, well, slightly long croquet mallets with one side coming to a slightly triangular point. The historical function was to fight people in full plate armor holding shields. They needed to have enough reach to get over top of the shield and enough weight to cave in their opponent's helmet, and hopefully their skull as well. With the weight of a led core and angular momentum, they didn't actually need to be that big.
I certainly could have bought a large fantasy hammer or a mallet worthy of a buxom comic book jester. In the end, though, this practical hammer seemed perfect for my needs. I also picked up some leather armor and some basic leather boots. When all was said and done, I was out more than 150 gold and I was finally feeling ready to give the mine another chance.
This time, though, I made sure to let Argyle know where I was headed. Even if he was letting go of whatever had bothered him, I still didn't want to be the cause of any more drama between the two of us.
Before I went, I figured there was at least one more thing I ought to see. “Hey, Argyle, before I go, how about we take a look at those Training and Crafting Halls where you get our supplies from?”
“Oh yeah,” he perked up. “If we start crafting there, I won't have to walk so far between projects.”
I was starting to notice a theme with everything in this noob town. The designers liked big open rooms or wide open plazas where you can easily look around and see all of your options. Everything you're allowed to buy or use was clear, visible, and sharp. Everything that was meant for someone of a higher level or a higher tier subscription was behind that smoky veil. The Training Hall was no different. I could see well over half of the room. Each Class trainer pantomimed some aspect of their craft; they weren't actually fully engaged in the activity, but that's not what mattered.
At least not in my mind. My Class Skill would activate when I saw someone demonstrating the Skill and their pantomime was a form of demonstration. I smiled. It didn't matter if they're using their full Skills. It only mattered if I saw someone with their Skill level demonstrating the Skill.
Suddenly, it felt as if my whole head had opened up and someone was trying to cram an entire 27 volume encyclopedia Britannica into my head.
“Class Skill activated”
“Class Skill activated”
“Class Skill activated”
“Class Skill activated. I I I Can Can Can Can Can doo doo doo doo doo doo doo That That That That That Thhhhaaaaaaaatt.”
Hundreds upon hundreds of points of information flooded my brain. Too many prompts played all at once and the room began to flicker.
“You have gained the Skill Wood Craft. You have gained the Skill Potion Brewing. You have gained the Skill Singing. You have gained the Skill Smelting. You have gained the Skill Tanning. You have gained the Skill Posing. You have gained the Skill Pole Vault. You have gained the Skill Basket Weaving. You have gained the Skill Fletching. You have gained the skill…” and it just continued on like that.
Words flashed in front of my face, faster and faster until my eyes rolled into my head and I fainted. The last thing I remember was seeing is the words:
“Due to resisting 65 Psychic attacks, you have gained the Skill Mental resistance.”
The last thought that left me was, “Funny, the whole game is a psychic attack.”
I woke up on my back, staring up at a beige ceiling with Fez’s voice in my head. “Buddy, I don't know what you did, but I had to play admin for another a couple of seconds. Whooo, that was quite the logic error. I wouldn't recommend doing that again. You almost melted your brain, and that’s pretty hard to do with a meat brain.”
My notification log resembled a dissertation on advanced computational mathematics. The kind of math where they run out of numbers, so they have to use letters and then, they run out of letters so they have to use the Greek alphabet, and finally move on random squiggles until, in the end, even the people who understand it don't really understand it.
My head was still spinning from what the game considered a mental attack. I suppose if knowledge is power, then that was a powerful blow to the head. I couldn't be too mad, though. This was exactly what I needed if I wanted to survive with my important Skills intact.
Having so many throwaway Skills for crafting and cooking and weaving and dancing... this would make it a lot harder for me to lose the important ones, but I wished it didn't have to hurt so much.
“Buddy, you better not do that again anytime soon.” Fez had a look of what seemed to be genuine concern on his face. “That much data dumped into your brain... Well, that's a lot, and your meat storage already had a few, shall we say, near misses. You might want to cool it on absorbing a whole room's worth of Skills.”
“Does that mean that I should avoid the weapons trainers?”
“Yeah, definitely avoid the weapons trainers. I don't even know how you did it. They weren't really, like, doing their Skills.”
“I realized that all I have to do is see someone with the Skill perform the Skill. Somehow, when I understood it that way, it just got all downloaded into my brain.”
“That's a little odd, but, for real though, do not do that again. I had to pull admin duty for multiple seconds so that they didn't delete your broken character. Oh man.”
“I could have gotten deleted?”
“Yeah, seems like there was some kind of game balance issue for you to absorb all that, all at once. That got kicked up so high that the game balance AI almost deleted your entire class.”
“Wow, I guess I really dodged a bullet.”
“You really did, my fleshy friend. You really did. So, don't do it again.”
I looked over at Argyle and realized that I had had this entire conversation in my head and was not actually speaking out loud, as I had previously assumed. He was looking at me with this sheepish concern. I was touched that he was so worried about me, but also a little annoyed that he was so worried about me. At the same time, part of me legitimately did not want him to worry this much.
“Finch, bro. Are you... are you okay?”
“I think so,” I said sitting up and rubbing my head. “Remind me not to do that again. Like ever.”
He cracked a smile. “I could do that. What do you want to do with the rest of our day?”
“I kinda want to take another try at the Abandoned Mine.”
I could tell that that was the wrong answer. His face fell. “Oh, I thought you might want to you know... I mean... we're making some good progress on crafting.
“I just want to also keep leveling, you know. Want to get out there and see what's up, I suppose. I think I'm going to hang out and keep on working, though.”
“All right.” His body posture was mixed between sad Charlie Brown and kicked a puppy. I wanted to say I was sorry, or ask what was wrong, but I also really wanted to get out there and play. Finally, after all this time. I didn't want to have to deal with emotions, or feelings, or whatever it was he was going through. I didn't want to have him relying on me or worrying about me. I just wanted to get out there do what this game was made for.
Adventure.