Chapter 10
I was on my back just breathing and sweating. My sweat trickled across dry dirt and blood, creating little runways of gross stickiness. I was exhausted, and it wasn’t even midday. While my body and mind had both grown tired during the fight, it hadn’t seemed to change the fact that I was able to run at a specific speed or move my body as if it was fresh as the battle progressed. In fact, now that I thought on it, there was no change in my physical abilities from the start of the battle to the end of the battle.
But that didn’t stop my body from feeling like it had just gone down a garbage disposal, or like I had just spent the last hour doing one of those crazy P90X videos. And after lying for a moment, endorphins started to kick in, and that’s when a couple Tony Hortons quotes echoed through my mind. ‘Do your best, and forget the rest.’ And, ‘CAAAAAW, CAAAAAAAW . . . I’m in a good mood today, man.’
God damn it, Tony.
But similar to the pain of a literal spear going into my gut here in Hearth, the uncomfortable feeling of being exhausted and sore from all the running was ignorable . . . or at least a little easier than it would have been back on Earth.
In any case, I was glad for the pleasant endorphins that now rushed through my entire being as I scanned my logs.
You killed Recruited Swordsman Guard!
You received 100 XP!
You killed Recruited Spearman Guard!
You received 100 XP!
You gained multiple levels!
You reached level 7!
You unlocked the ability {Parry}
Active Ability: {Parry}
Description: You twirl your spear at a fast rate, increasing your chance to block a projectile attack by 75%.
Cost: 20 stamina. This scales with player level.
Cast Time: Instant
Cooldown: 5 seconds
You successfully completed the event ‘Resist Void King Recruitment.’
You received 300 XP!
You gained multiple levels!
You reached level 9!
You unlocked the reputation system.
Your reputation with the village of The Notch has astronomically increased.
I gained. . . seven levels . . . in one event? Reputation system? Astronomically? That sounds good. I wondered what that even meant.
I walked over to each of the guards' corpses. Two were glowing white, and one was flickering blue. As party leader, it looked like I was the only one able to loot.
You received {Silver Coin} x8
You received {Copper Coin} x12
You received {Chest Plate of The Black Domain}
You received {Shin Guards of The Black Domain}
You received {Leggings of The Black Domain}
You received {Pauldrons of The Black Domain}
Roll for {Dragonhide Cloak}
Player IFartedInFrontOfHer(Mie) has accepted the group roll for {Dragonhide Cloak}
Roll for Item {Dragonhide Cloak} {Accept}, {Pass}, or {Delay}?
“Really, Mie?” I said, as I accepted the prompt. “That’s the one item I can equip.” I could feel her smirking attitude. I had tried to equip the gauntlets I had picked up off the first guard but received an error about not being able to equip armor of type plate. I doubted I could equip all the other plate armor I had just received.
I glanced at Mie and saw a little smirk on her face . . . She was loving this.
“Huh?” she said.
Player IFartedInFrontOfHer(Mie) rolled 86
Player AnythingButSquished(Sam) rolled 5
“Oh, come on!” I nearly yelled. It took a strong effort to stay calm, and I breathed out a massive breath, fuming.
Then a trade window popped up. It came later than I would have liked, but it appeared, offering the rare Dragonhide Cloak in exchange for all the other plate Black Domain items I had picked up, since Mie could equip plate. I sighed, grinning, relief spreading through me as I confirmed my side of the trade.
Trade Cancelled by Player IFartedInFrontOfHer(Mie)
I was speechless and paused for a long moment. When nothing else happened, I let out a “REALLY?!” this time actually yelling.
Mie was belly laughing at this point. The trade window reappeared, and I made sure to wait till she had confirmed her side, before confirming on my end.
You received {Dragonhide Cloak}
“Thank God.” I said, now starting to chuckle, mostly just embarrassed I cared so much. I checked the cloak out.
{Dragonhide Cloak}
Rank: Rare
Grade: Shabby
Slot: Back
+2.1 Armor
+1 Constitution
+2 Wisdom
I checked my character readout, though the changes were hardly worth mentioning, but I was curious how the points worked. Like, what did a single point of Constitution even do? It gave health yes, but what else? Something to check in the manual. The shabby grade was disappointing, and that was something I was curious about as well. I was starting to feel overwhelmed by everything I still had to figure out. Is there even a level cap? How does Wisdom here work? How does experience sharing work?! The mental questions I’d been neatly stacking were starting to fall, the tower too high. A familiar whirling sensation began blowing around in my mind, threatening to overwhelm me. I shook my head. I needed to do more research. I pushed back the chaos and noise in my head . . . somewhat . . . and scrolled through my logs again.
I noticed something I’d missed right above the completed event entry.
Parties led by AnythingButSquished(Sam) and Fred#819282374181723 have completed the event ‘Resist Void King Recruitment.’
I looked around, a feeling of being watched suddenly tickling my back. This ‘Fred’ must be the dwarf we had caught a glimpse of. Why did he help us . . . and where did he go?
I spent a moment looking across the landscape outside of The Notch. It was mostly farm fields and grass, but there were a few trees and boulders . . . though not enough to explain his sudden appearance and disappearance. Maybe some sort of invisibility ability?
“HELLO?! ANYONE OUT THERE?” I shouted so suddenly that Mie flinched at her spot on the ground.
“What the hell, Sam?!”
When no one revealed themselves, I sighed. I realized I couldn’t blame the guy. I wouldn’t have wanted to approach a duo if I was solo either. Too much risk, and now that I thought about it more, having a healer was likely a far bigger advantage than I realized. Who would have picked a healer during character creation when going into a game world blind? I wagered not many. We might actually have one of the only healers in the game. I looked over at Mie . . . She was flat on her back now, her eyes closed. Does she know she is an . . . item? I didn’t know. I didn’t know anything. My breathing quickened.
As we walked the remaining distance to The Notch, I noticed yet another tab in my bottom left that I had missed. Turned out there was an expansive messaging system that reminded me of iMessages. I found both Mie and Greg in a list of contacts I could message directly. I had no idea how to add others to the list.
Wanting to try something, I dragged a stack of bread over to the Soul Inventory, and then realized I should probably store our money there for safekeeping as well. So I dragged half of my silver in too. A thirty-second timer showed up on top of the bread and silver in my Character Inventory and started counting downward.
Mie was at my side as we walked, oddly silent. When the timer completed, and with as straight a tone as I could manage, I asked Mie, “Hey, pull open your Soul Inventory. What do you see?”
I saw her eyes flick across her HUD as she switched her inventory view. “Just a stack of bread and silver. Did you do that?”
I blew out a slow and quiet sigh as I said, “Yep. Wanted to see if we shared the Soul inventory.” It was partly true, but really, I’d been checking to see if she could see herself there as an item. Somehow, I knew that fact would mess with her head, and I didn’t want to have to deal with an existential crisis.
We reached the center of the cluster of buildings. A few NPCs with white nameplates were out and about. Most were acting normal, but one waved, and said, “Top o’ the morning to ya!” then proceeded to bump into the wall next to the door of one of the buildings over and over again. He turned around and said, “Top o’ the morning to ya!”
. . . What the fuck is this programming? I guess the NPCs are not sentient then . . . or at least this one isn’t.
I scanned the buildings. They were all single stories save for a lone double-story inn which was named The Bucket. I smiled. The little inn reminded me of every fantasy story I had ever read. The inn scene was timeless. I took a closer look at the buildings just to make sure I wasn’t missing something. There were quite a few, but two stood out to me more than the others: There was a longer building with a large sign with the icon of a bag. It was called ‘Mark’s Supplies.’ It looked like it might be a general supplies type store. There was also a sign with a cauldron called ‘Plants’n’Shit.’ I chuckled at that one and made a mental note to meet the owner if they were in.
I took a water out of my inventory, unstopped it, and drank heavily. My bladder, I realized, was full, so I went around back of the inn—The Bucket—as Mie went through the front. I found a disgusting little outdoor . . . porta-potty. Fuck that. I closed the door without entering, and I went ahead and just relived myself on the back of the building.
I headed back to the front door, much more relaxed now that we were close to an inn . . . and no black-armored guards were around. I had questioned Greg further about the mechanics of logging in last night since this was where Mie had appeared. I had been worried about potential spawn squatters—players who would just kill players over and over by having the advantage of knowing where they would spawn in. I was grateful to hear that inns were considered non player vs. player areas, making them safe to spawn into. I’d had an inkling there was some amount of gray area there with various factors like mobs and NPCs . . . which was now verified by the fact that Mie had to run out of the inn and village. It really was smart of her to not try and take refuge in the inn. That would have done nothing for her since they were not players.
I walked up to the open door of The Bucket. It was already open wide, so I peeked inside not going in right away. There was normal inn stuff like tables, chairs, a stage, the innkeeper pouring drinks, and a few local NPCs at the bar drinking with their backs to me.
My eyes flicked to Mie, who had a blue nameplate over her head. She was already chatting away with a younger woman who had a white nameplate. Are any of the NPCs here . . . sentient? The entire purpose of going to the inn was to get information from the locals. If they were all going to babble, talk nonsense, and run into walls . . . this would be a big waste of time. I saw Mie take a sip of some yellow liquid out of a low-ball glass. I entered the building and started walking over to her at a quick clip, my chest tightening in worry. What is she drinking?! As I got closer, I overheard what she was saying. She was speaking in a fast babble.
“Oh my god. Yes. I needed this. I’ll tell you what, it is absolutely terrifying that I can’t resist the desire to suck on those disgusting dark hairy nipples. I mean I’d get it, if I was like some mindless creature, but no . . . I am definitely conscious during these incidents.” She took another long sip, continuing in a fast chatter, “Even worse is I have all these memories of copious amounts of sweat beading off of those very same nipples. It’s so weird, my brain is simultaneously like, ‘oh my god I want them so bad’—no not like sexually or anything—but at the same time shouting, ‘Please, God, no!’ ”
At this point I was debating turning back, feeling like I probably shouldn’t have overheard all of that, but Mie’s guest saw me and gave me a wave over. That was normal behavior. Mie went rigid as I walked up. She kept her eyes forward on her glass. I inspected her guest.
Eleanor Windle
Level 5
Herbologist Storekeeper
I stayed silent as I moved toward the open chair to Mie’s right. The innkeeper was taking orders from two other NPC patrons down the far end of the bar. She waved a small wand, and two taps started filling a couple mugs automagically. She grabbed the slightly frothy mugs, now full of delicious-looking golden beer. There was something like a metal plate under the mugs that clicked up as she pulled the beers off of them. They retracted, and new empty mugs rose up ready to be filled.
As I sat down, there was an awkward silence. I smiled slightly and nodded to Eleanor. She nodded back, eyes returning to look in front of her.
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We sat like that for a minute before I couldn’t take the silence any longer.
“Uhh, you guys got friendly quick,” I said.
“She just started talking—” Eleanor started to say, but Mie cut her off with a long slurpy sip. Her glass thudded back down onto the wooden bar top. It looked to be made of oak.
The silence started back in. I broke it again, wanting to pry more into the nature of this NPC.
“So, uhh, who’s your friend, Mie?” I know I shouldn’t have been shocked that she had no social norms. But . . . this was rough, like really rough.
Mie turned to Eleanor, extended her hand towards her, and said, “Hey, nice to meet you, by the way. Name is Mie.”
Eleanor shook Mie’s hand, then motioned to the innkeeper to catch her attention and nodded my direction. Okay, that was definitely intelligent behavior.
The innkeeper walked over and poured me a glass of the same yellow liquor Mie was already guzzling.
“Thanks . . . ” I said to the innkeeper. Then I turned back to the other two. “So wait, you guys just met?” I looked at Mie. “You uhh . . . started the conversation with . . . my nipples?” I inspected Mie more closely.
IFartedInFrontOfHer(Mie)
Level 9 Upland Highborn
{Tipsy} for 5 minutes
{Tipsy}
Description: Accuracy improved by 50%.
That buff readout gave me a moment of pause. It was stupid good. Probably hard to maintain, but I bet ranged characters would be half drunk all the time. The readout would certainly explain her casual mention of my nipples . . .
I took a sip of the yellow liquid and instantly regretted it as pain spiked down my chest. I glanced at the bottle.
Perdon
175 Proof Alcohol
Notes: Alcohol
I clutched at my chest as I coughed and choked. After a moment, I felt the small amount of liquor immediately take effect, and I relaxed, letting the light feeling expand throughout my body.
Notes . . . alcohol. I chuckled.
Eleanor looked concerned at first, but smiled back once she saw my grin. “You like my joke?”
“You wrote the notes?” I asked, pointing at the bottle.
“As the creator of this specific bottle of Perdon—” She stopped abruptly and said, “What’s so funny?”
Unable to resist the urge, I laughed again. The name was just so dumb. I tried to cover up my stupid grin by putting my hand over my entire face. I shook my head back and forth, indicating I had nothing to say. This stuff . . . was hitting hard. That made sense though . . . Maybe this body had zero alcohol tolerance.
Giving me a knowing look, she continued, “Yes, I am able to write in any notes I would like about the drink.” Her voice was confident and soft, and I noticed with some discomfort she wasn’t hard to look at either . . . Ugh. I was terrible around cute girls.
I glanced away quickly, trying to clear my head. I felt . . . slap happy. I took another drink and appreciated the river of warmth that passed through me. “Is that your place across the main road? Plants’n’Shit, was it?” I chuckled again.
“You think the name of my place of business is funny?” she said indignantly.
I could sort of tell she was joking, and I was about to call that out, but before I could Mie stood up and cut in.
“YOU MAKING FUN OF HER BUSINESS NAME, SAM?! STRONG CHOICE!” She slumped back into her chair.
I could tell Mie was . . . just being Mie through our bond, but I did notice her buff . . . turn to a debuff. It switched from ‘Tipsy’ to ‘Drunk.’
My good feelings drained away as worry crept in. It was way too early in the day to be drinking.
This was the exact opposite of our plan, which had been to figure out a good grinding spot to bang out some levels. We had chatted with Greg about the best approach to leveling, and he was insistent that questing wasn’t worth it early on. Some of the later quests might be worth the effort he had said, but early on, the grind was best. After the event we just went through though, I was already level nine—maybe we should be looking for events. But we had gotten crazy lucky that my speed was good and none of those guards were primarily ranged attackers. So with that in mind, I asked Eleanor, “Do you know of a good place to grind?”
She looked at me oddly, eyes raised.
I immediately wished I was dead.
My face flushed, and heat rose to my cheeks. “No! Wait! Not what I meant! I mean, like, a place to go hunt monsters.”
She giggled and rolled her eyes, clearly enjoying me squirm. I turned away to look across the bar at the various bottles lining the wall, unsure of what I was feeling. It had been a wild couple of days. It was nice to just chill for a second and enjoy something normal.
“There’s a level seven to ten area just north of here called The Brink. I’d think that would be a good place to get started as a duo, but I wouldn’t go with your current gear. Might be good to grab a few things from Marks. You know, like a shirt. Or don’t.” She bit her lip, eyeing me up and down.
I felt my face go red. I looked down at myself . . . God damn it. Having two bodies is hard. The fact that my elfish self was still half naked and covered in grime had entirely fallen out of my head. My body in my Soul Space did have a shirt, but this one didn’t. But also . . . this woman was dangerous. She kept looking at me. Her eyes fierce. Something was off here.
Sam: Greg . . . what exactly does . . . reputation do?
Greg: Oh so, now you want me to talk?
Sam: C’mon man.
Greg: Ugh . . . fine . . . reputation does nothing really until you unlock the follower system. That normally unlocks at level 10. But, you can think of it as how charming NPCs in the area view you. So . . . to answer your non-verbalized question . . . yes. She wants to have sex with you . . . likely only due to your reputation.
That last part felt . . . unnecessary. Shut the hell up, Greg.
I turned my attention back to Eleanor. My face still felt hot. We needed to leave. “Uh, r-right,” I stammered. “Good call.” Then I shook Mie, “Hey, we have to get going . . . like now.”
“Wha’?” she slurred. Her head fell onto the table as she said, “Alcohol is fun.”
Then she passed out.
God. Help. Me.
A few moments later, after a few more playful jabs from Eleanor, I discovered a shop option hovering over her left shoulder. I selected it, and she fell—thank god—into a more business-like mode. A window appeared next to her, displaying her various wares. I scrolled through for a moment and paused near the bottom.
I could plainly see an option for ‘coitus’ which was listed as free . . .
Where the hell am I?!
I firmly ignored it, and she laughed. She was totally messing with me, probably, but even so, I stuck to the single glass of Perdon to be safe.
Since she was considered an herbologist storekeeper, she had quite a few herbs on hand as well as a handful of berries, including the weak heart berries and weak sugar berries I had read from the Hearth Manual. I bought twenty of each, which cost me two silvers, and forty more units of unfiltered water at a copper per unit. I slid the coins along the bar to her, and the berries and water appeared in my inventory. I asked Eleanor where I could find a trainer to learn brewing. She looked disgusted and said, “You haven’t been around here long, have you?”
“I have not,” I said, as I wasn’t exactly sure what else to say. I didn’t entirely understand what this NPC—if she even was one—was, or what understanding she had of her reality, and I didn’t want to break into that nut quite yet.
“From another world then? I have heard rumors the time is coming.” She said that last part softly, almost to herself.
“Uh-huh,” I said. Curious, I went for it, cracking the nut squarely in two. “So, uhh, how did you die?” I asked, cringing at the delivery. In my head the question made sense . . . but . . . I was tipsy.
Her playfulness fell away and was replaced now with a worried expression. “How did I die?”
I started stapling the nut back together. I probably sounded like a lunatic. “Ha, yeah, never mind. Sorry, it’s . . . an expression . . . where I come from. Basically, it means something like where were you born?” I was falling over my words, but thankfully she shrugged and bought it, continuing the conversation.
“Born and raised in The Notch. I wanted to leave when I came of age, but the herbologist at the time died, and I had chosen that profession when I was a child despite my parents telling me to wait. It was the right time to step in and take her place.” Her tone drifted, as if she was recalling the memory, and I couldn’t help but notice a touch of regret thread its way in. The response felt so real. She had memories. Clearly—whatever she was—she simulated feelings at the very least . . . but if she hadn’t gone through a ‘tutorial’ . . . then she probably hadn’t come from Earth or another planet. I turned the conversation back to professions.
“So, professions. I saw brewing is needed in order to craft potions. How did you say you picked the herbologist profession?
“It’s an option for everyone,” she said.
I looked blankly at her and then I realized what she meant. I started digging through my interface, and after some time I found a section for professions. It was a stupidly long list with tons of options including a lot of the normal professions one would see in a typical MMORPG. A few options caught my eye. I selected one called firearms specialist, but the option to train in it was grayed out. I tried brewing. It was also grayed out. A little info box popped up as narrowed my eyes on the training option.
Professions unavailable at current level
Huh. That was weird. I had seen the level requirements on specific more advanced professions in other games. But for all of them? The bottle of Perdon caught my eye. “You wouldn’t happen to be a brewer, would you?” I asked Eleanor.
She slapped me across the face. My vision went red and white.
“HEY! What the hell?” I cried out.
“Brewing is for peasants. I . . . am a distiller.” Her eyes were narrowed, and her lips pursed.
“Ow. God. Okay, my bad,” I said.
This bitch was crazy. Brewing is for peasants? Wasn’t she a peasant?
It was time to go. But Mie . . . was officially drunk, and my own thoughts were moving slowly
After what felt like a hundred apologies to her on my end, Eleanor admitted she could craft potions. I asked about the weak health potion and weak stamina potion, and she said she could brew both. She charged me ten coppers per unit for both types, which cost me another four silver. I couldn’t help but think I could have gotten that at a better price, but I rolled with it, not wanting to piss her off further. I passed the coin, water, and berries over to her in a trade window. The system automatically filled in her side of the trade, which showed the potions I would receive grayed out. I inspected one, as that didn’t seem right.
{Weak Health Potion} x20
Unfulfilled. Eleanor owes character AnythingButSquished(Sam) x20 weak health potions.
Ah, okay. She hadn’t crafted the potions yet. I accepted the trade and noticed her eyes go blank as, I assumed, she started messing with her own menus crafting the ingredients.
As she worked, I got up and walked around the room, stretching my legs and giving Mie more time to recover.
One of the walls was covered with a large map. It wasn’t a global map, but it did show some areas we hadn’t explored yet. There was an arrow pointing down over The Notch directly in the center to indicate our current location. A line of text rose up in midair next to the map.
Local Area Revealed. Transferring . . .
I opened my global map and found a larger area revealed. It was still under fog of war, but at least now I didn’t have to come back here to view our surroundings. I wondered if all inns had something like this.
There were a few other markings on the map. I saw the area called The Brink that Eleanor had mentioned, which was just north of The Notch, just outside of The Rolling Hills. It indicated a recommended level of seven to ten. My eyes scanned to the west, and I recognized Shell Woods. The level recommendation there was thirty to forty. That explained the massive troll I ran into yesterday. I shuddered, the memory still way too fresh.
I leaned in to look closer and noticed a cave-like icon within Shell Woods. I tried inspecting it and was awarded with a readout.
Charlie’s Crypt
Dungeon
Recommended level: 40
Max Party Size: 4
I glanced back over at Eleanor. Her eyes were still blank, so I went ahead and messaged Greg via our party chat.
Sam: Greg, can you give me the stripped-down version of what dungeons are? Looks like we are a ways off level wise, but I’m curious of some of the mechanics there and what the potential benefits are.
Greg: No thanks.
Sam: GREG! God damn it, man. ISN’T THIS YOUR JOB?
Greg: Uhh . . . no?
Sam: What?
Greg: I mean . . . it could be . . . IF I GOT PAID.
He doesn’t get paid? How does he have money to eat? Does he even need to eat? He shits like he eats . . .and didn’t he want to be bribed for a silver?
I shook my head. I couldn’t deal with Soul Space questions at the moment.
Sam: Okay, what about 10 coppers an hour to not actively suck balls as a guide?
Greg: Make it a silver.
Sam: Greg . . . I’m already pissed off. 15 copper an hour, that’s my best offer.
Greg: Nah. No thanks. I already get paid that.
Sam: . . . the fuck? So you DO get paid?
Greg: Haha, yeah.
Sam: Do you want me to beat the shit out of you?
Greg: Yes daddy.
What the fuck? That response had so many . . . horrible implications.
Greg: Haha, I really wish they gave us guides a view that wasn’t over your shoulder. I would love to see your face right now.
I breathed out a sigh of relief.
Sam: Okay . . . you had me there. Holy shit man. Don’t do that.
Sam: I just want information on dungeons.
Greg: Tips are . . . appreciated.
Sam: FINE. I’ll get you a silver when we get back.
Greg: Uhh . . . right. That works. So . . . dungeons are similar to what humans are typically used to. It’s a locked instance, meaning you won’t have to worry about other parties or players interfering. There is better loot—typically rare and higher—that sort of stuff. Probably the most important thing about them though is the potential for a Battle Hall.
Sam: Battle Hall?
Greg: Lets you pick up a new Battle Art.
Sam: How much potential are we talking?
Greg: Ehh, depends. Almost guaranteed to appear if you beat the boss. Sometimes they will show up earlier in the instance, but that’s rarer. Let me look at the manual. It’ll probably say now that you have discovered dungeons. Yeah, 2% chance to proc every time you enter a new section of the dungeon.
It seemed odd to me that the ability to acquire additional Battle Arts was supposed to unlock at level ten, but this dungeon, which was the only one in the area, recommended level forty, and as far as I knew dungeons were the only place Battle Halls existed.
I kept scanning the map, taking note of a few areas. The Rolling Hills was the largest area of them all, sprawling off further to the south and southeast. To the east it went all the way to the edge of the revealed area, though I thought I saw the start of some mountains. The edge of the board cut them off. I wasn’t sure. There were a few other similarly sized villages like The Notch throughout the hills, and it made me wonder how many players were in the area.
It took probably ten minutes in all for Eleanor to finish up the potions. When her eyes cleared, a trade window popped up next to her. After a few seconds it disappeared, and the items showed up in my inventory.
I was already tired . . . The alcohol was losing its effect, and I wondered if there was some kind of oath mechanic with the trade system. But right now . . . I didn’t care.
The exchange with Eleanor landed me twenty weak health potions and twenty weak stamina potions, and I considered that a win despite the high cost and loss of time.
I got Mie up off the floor, and she immediately puked all over me.
She held her stomach with her arms, and her pale face screwed up in pain.
“Alcohol isn’t fun,” she said.
I muttered a ‘for fuck’s sake’ under my breath, called a farewell to Eleanor and a thank you to the innkeeper who now was giving me a big old stink eye, then I pulled Mie out the door.
After using a couple units of water to clean the filth off me, we went across the street to Mark’s. Like I had thought, it was a general store. He had some very basic gear that we picked up for what I thought was a bargain compared to what I had just spent on potions. Two silvers got both Mie and me outfitted with statless base armor. Leather for myself and plate for the slots Mie was missing. I equipped the new gear, checked my profile, and saw the change in my armor readout.
Armor: 7.12
Most of the pieces were considered low quality and only gave small portions of a single point of armor. But I wasn’t complaining. I had all my armor slots filled out, including a leather chest piece, worn boots, and even a little pair of ugly torn gloves. I grabbed a few more units of water and bread and made a few other purchases, wanting to try something.
There were also some mushrooms.
Hell no. I closed the shop menu.
Mie equipped her new gear too and asked, “How do I look?”
Between the crappy black plate from the guards and now this new . . . crappy silver plate, she looked . . . super dumb . . . like a poorly dressed hobo knight who was playing in a high school theater play. Her being half drunk didn’t help either, but I just said, “You look great, Mie.”
I looked to the north, toward the path that led out of The Notch. It was time to stop wasting precious hours. I was annoyed with Mie for getting drunk, but I couldn’t blame her. She was basically a brand-new human being. She hadn’t experienced anything . . . ever. That was a hard thing for my brain to wrap around. She had my memories. But they were not hers, and I suspected that not really living through those experiences meant she hadn’t really learned anything from them. I shook my head. My brain hurt.
I couldn’t help but shake the feeling that every minute wasted was another minute someone else was using to grow in power. Someone like Mike.
We needed to get stronger, and we needed to keep moving.
I needed to just . . . keep moving.
I took a deep breath, trying—and failing—to settle the storm of memories that battered against a black barrier within my mind.
Thump. I was alone in the dark. Thump. Leaves blew across my path in the fading light. Thump. I was looking in the mirror, my elbows and knees caked with mud and blood. Thump. I was holding Lily in my right arm and pulling Ada out of the hospital doors with my other hand.
I pushed those memories further down, knowing the danger they held.
Lily . . .
Ada . . .
Rach . . . where are you?
My voice gruff, I said, “C’mon, Mie. Let’s go.”