That was how they were going to rope me into this damn quest. I wondered if Al was responsible for that quest description. It had a distinctly different flavor than his other cheeky quests that usually seemed to center around how dumb I was being or had been. I also wondered if it was really necessary for me to do this quest to get to the capital. What was the point of having the system A.I. in your back pocket if you couldn’t fudge things a bit?
I sighed. “Okay, I have some questions,” I said to Aldara. “But I need to chat with some folks first. Mind hanging out for a minute?”
“Of course, Sir Ray,” Aldara said. “I will be in the command tent coordinating tonight’s defense. You can find me there.” He pointed to a large tent placed behind the trench line. There was a bustle of activity going to and from the tent, and it had the look of a serious campaign. I also noticed for the first time a handful of players moving through the camp, and my stomach flipped. Some of them were part of my faction, but a few of them had the distinctive red tinge to their nameplate that indicated they were enemy players. But I could see they were all within the level range of this area. That didn’t mean they weren’t some max level rogues sneaking around though. I forced a deep breath.
“I can’t help but notice that some forces hostile to my faction are within your camp. Should I be concerned?” I asked Aldara.
He shook his head in reply, a hard look on his face. “We enforce a strict ceasefire amongst those aiding in our defense. Anyone caught breaking that peace at any time will find themselves enemies of Hope’s End. Returning to good grace after such a transgression is very difficult.”
That calmed me a bit - not much, but a bit. “Okay, good to know. If I decide to participate, I’ll come find you.” He nodded and began to turn. “Oh, um, when does the battle commence…or whatever?” I asked.
He made a show of glancing at the sun, measuring the distance it had to travel to the horizon. After a moment, he said, “The beasts usually begin the assault as the light fades. Be ready before then if you plan to assist.” A notification appeared in my vision.
Quest Update: Man versus beast.
I opened the quest and noticed a new timer counting down. It read: 1 hour 13 minutes 12 seconds until event commences. I closed it out and gave Aldara a nod before walking over to an area with no one around.
“Hey, Al,” I said to myself. I didn’t know what I expected, but I waited anyway to see if something caught my eye, or flashed on my interface. When nothing happened after a few moments, I said, “Al, yo, hey, Al! Do I really have to do this quest to get to the capital? I’m not really stoked to risk my life again today…”
I waited a full minute, my hand tapping my leg impatiently. I was just about to start doing my annoying child routine, saying ‘Al, Al, Al, Al,’ over and over again until he responded, when a byline appeared under the quest objectives.
System Note: Yes, you really have to do this quest fuckwad.
I rolled my eyes, looked up to the sky where I imagined my budget guardian angel was watching, and flipped him my longest finger. I watched as the system note deleted itself, and was replaced by: Fuck you, too, before the entire note disappeared a moment later.
“Moody bitch,” I muttered.
Guess I was doing this, then.
But if I was going to do this, I wanted to do it right. Or, at least, as right as I could manage within the next hour and some change.
I walked up to one of the guards manning the large front gate leading into the city proper. Unlike Aldara, he didn’t have the telltale look of an actor-NPC, but I knew that even the non-actor enabled NPCs usually had some helpful information.
“Hey, there,” I said as I approached. The guard looked at me, but didn’t say anything. “Um…is there a potion shop or supplies vendor of some sort within the city?”
He didn’t say anything, but made a gesture, and my map icon started flashing. I opened it up and noted that a couple different waypoints had been marked on my map, with little icons indicating their purpose. There was a miniature potion icon marked on the map, as well as what looked like a haunch of meat icon on the same avenue. There was also what looked like a weapons vendor, an armor vendor, a guild hall, and a couple other icons that I couldn’t interpret.
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I gave the NPC guard a friendly nod and entered the city through the gates. The gate entrance was nearly 10 meters long, and a glance up showed an assortment of holes in the ceiling above. Murder holes, or whatever they were called. Ominous, though I imagined they were just for show. I didn’t think the beasts actually made it past the defenses, as this seemed like a recurring event. That wouldn’t be the case if they breached the gate every night, I guessed.
As I exited the other side of the gate into the actual city of Hope’s End, I was immediately impressed by the sounds and impressions of an actual city under siege. All around me, dozens of people were running about with a sense of purpose, loads of siege supplies on their back, or messages at their hip, or a flock of animals being herded inside the walls. I could tell that these weren’t actor-NPCs, but the ambiance was still that of the subdued chaos one would expect directly before a siege.
I pulled up my map and marked a couple of the vendors I wanted to check out before the battle began. I had noticed my common poleaxe was wearing down from use, the durability down to a third of where it had started. I didn’t relish finding out what hitting zero durability meant in the middle of a 2-hour battle. So I created my first waypoint for the blacksmith vendor. My next planned stop would be the potions shop. I really wanted to have some healing potions on hand, in case shit hit the fan. Plus, I wanted to see what else was in stock. This city was large, and I imagined it would have a decent selection compared to the outpost where I had fought Osgoth and Ysillith.
The final vendor icon that had caught my eye was an image of two men facing off in combat. I didn’t know what the icon indicated, but if I had time, I resolved to check it out.
I followed the main avenue through the city, heading towards the blacksmith first. The loud clanging of metal on metal echoed over the sounds of the milling NPCs, and I found the shop without issue.
As I entered, the blacksmith was already walking towards me, an actor riding his skin. “Greetings, adventurer-” He paused, no doubt upon examining my nameplate. This was becoming a familiar scene.
His mouth was agape, a shocked look on his face. Whoever this actor was, his poker face wasn’t as practiced as most of the shop actors I had met. This was the kind of reaction that would net an actor a poor review from a player, and they would quickly find themselves demoted to - you guessed it - a damsel, or some other ignominious NPC.
I waited a beat for him to recover, but he just continued staring. I coughed into my fist, a mix of embarrassment and annoyance scrabbling for purchase in my mind. “My weapon needs a repair, can you-”
“It’s you,” he interrupted, a tone of awe in his voice.
I flinched in surprise. This was way off script for an actor. If I had ever interrupted a customer, I’d see my rating plummet and my pay docked. “Sorry?” I asked, tilting my head.
The actor-NPC jolted, snapping out of his slack-jawed expression. He suddenly looked about nervously, as if checking for other players, or a shift supervisor. He leaned in, lowering his voice. “You’re that damsel everyone’s talking about,” he whispered. “From the Crawler article.”
I closed my eyes, and forced a deep breath in. I counted to three in my head, then opened my eyes. “Nope,” I said with a faux smile. “I’m just a damsel looking to repair my customer’s weapon.” I summoned my poleaxe, angling it so it flashed near the actor’s face. He recoiled in surprise. “Can you help me?” I asked, putting on my best damsel smile - that smile I used when I was forced to stay in character as a customer shamelessly groped my damsel body.
His eyes squinted in confusion, his mouth working back and forth like he was chewing on a tricky problem. He obviously wasn’t convinced, but I could tell he had realized just how far off the reservation he had traveled. If I truly was a companion actor, he had just fucked up massively, and a filed grievance from me would see him fired. Not that I would have ever done anything like that - we were all minimum wage slaves together - but the implication was enough to sober him up.
That thought stuck in my brain. We were all minimum wage slaves together…Except, I wasn’t anymore. Dying had freed me from my shackles, in a way. Was I technically still an employee at S&S? I wasn’t sure, but it didn’t matter anymore. The gold in my inventory mapped out to more money than I had ever owned in my entire life. And my rampage through the dungeon after killing BigSword and the massacre of mobs after I read the BigSword expose had pushed my gold count even higher. Not only was I richer than ever, but I had the means to increase that wealth. Once I was fully geared up, with my skill tree filled in, I’d be a money-making machine.
We were not the same anymore. For some inexplicable reason, that thought filled me with sadness.
He was fully recovered now, his actor facade firmly back in place. I shook myself to clear my own head. He broke the silence first. “Yes, I can fix your master’s weapon no problem.” He held out a hand, and I placed the poleaxe in it. He took it to the anvil and performed a quick series of actions that were mostly for show. Cleaned it, rubbed a sharpening stone against it for a couple strokes, oiled it, and then handed it back. It was all a facsimile of what a real blacksmith would do, but nobody wanted to wait around a day for their weapon to be fixed up.
A debit marker for 53 gold appeared over his outstretched hand. I mentally accepted the charge and the weapon appeared back in my own hands, the gold automatically pulled from my inventory.
Before he could say anything, I was out the door.