"Blurple: Did you hear about the JGuardians? I wonder if this continent will be taken…"

The man sat at a table inside a small tavern in the centre of North Cross, a land to the north of Grimwood.

"Naxx: No way, the justice bois have been around the longest, they’ll be back in no time!"

The room was filled with a dozen or so players as well as two NPCs, the innkeeper and a waitress, it’s been a week since JohnWillStab left the guild, and recently the NPC situation has seemingly blown-over, aside from the occasional outburst of existential fear they have returned to normal.

The evening light came in through the windows, mixing with the smoke from a nearby fireplace to make clearly visible sun-rays.

At the till stood an NPC cleaning out a mug, behind him, lined up, stood dozens of bottles of all shapes and sizes.

The waitress NPC abandoned her role of circling around the inn every few minutes, instead coping with her newfound sentience with alcohol.

"StyGore: Did you guys hear about the fu#*ing roleplayers who wanted everyone to pretend the NPCs are real?"

The man played a /laugh emote before walking up to the innkeeper.

He played as an Ogre, his massive, muscular frame barely covered by a purple coat.

His long black hair streaked down his face and down his back, his two tusk-like teeth stuck out making him almost look like an Orc in a more generic MMO.

"Naxx: Yeah, and some hackers made them spazz-out, right?"

"Blurple: You mean you didn’t see them?!"

"Naxx: Nah, I was out-of-town and couldn’t play."

"StyGore: They were just screaming and laying on the floor, killing them fixed the problem, so a bunch of players are going around fixing the NPCs."

"Naxx: I like how people are now calling them a cult."

"Blurple: Are you fu#*ing serious?!"

"StyGore: Yeah, the roleplayers keep making s#!t up!"

Seeing the innkeeper was acting normally the ogre turned to face the waitress who was drinking her sorrows away with the cheap ale.

"StyGore: Another glitched-out NPC!"

He laughed before approaching the waitress NPC, she was a harpy, long blond hair and red eyes.

She turned towards the ogre, clearly drunk.

"Waitress: What the hell do you want?!"

"StyGore: Imma fix this one."

"Naxx: How charitable!"

Blurple just laughed before continuing to drink his beer.

The innkeeper was an older looking man, he pretended to be a normal NPC - for the most part, that kept the NPC-killers off his back.

After all, sentient NPCs only get one chance at life, if they die they will respawn without their sentience.

As the waitress continued to provide slurred-insults to the ogre the innkeeper turned away from the soon-to-be bloodbath.

The ogre pulled his fist back and began casting pummel - upon the completion of the three-second cast-time he would unleash a burst of punches lasting ten seconds.

As he was about to reduce the NPC to a red stain on the wall his attack was interrupted by a gut-punch from JohnWillStab, he was wearing his mask, of course - so nobody knew his name.

"StyGore: What the hell man!?"

He turned back landing a punch to JohnWillStab but he quickly evaded thanks to his scarf, his stamina bar decreased - though, if the zone they were in was any indicator of his enemies level, he’d be dead in a single hit.

"JohnWillStab: Why would you go out of your way to kill the NPC?! It’s not like she’s actually even useful like a quest giver!"

"Naxx: Oh good, another roleplayer!"

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

"StyGore: For your information, it can deliver drinks!"

The Ogre planted another hit to JohnWillStab, it was evaded by the scarf, from behind Naxx ran up to JohnWillStab, mace in hand, as StyGore pulled his leg back and was prepared to land a kick to JohnWillStab, he used ‘manoeuvre’, the ability which led him swap places with the target, allowing him to not only dodge both attacks but let StyGore’s kick hit Naxx, launching him across the room before he crashed into a table.

From across the room, Blurple started casting a spell as a bolt of lightning shot towards JohnWillStab, taking out most of his health - since the scarf could only protect him from physical attacks.

He then saw Blurple’s change of target as he started casting a spell at the waitress who was still making sassy remarks at the Ogre, who completely forgot about her at this point.

If JohnWillStab swapped places with the waitress, he’d be killed for sure, if he didn’t she would be killed, though even if he swapped places with her, she would be killed next.

Realising there was no time, JohnWillStab used the powers of smashing the keyboard and hoping for the best, he activated the sprint ability, rushed over to the NPC, used the /pickup command and used manoeuvre to swap places with StyGore who was struck with a powerful bolt of lighting.

As soon as JohnWillStab moved out of the way he started losing health to the waitress beating him over the head with a bottle - "Waitress: What in the f#*k do you think you’re doing?!"

Another few players joined into the fight, it was now a fight between a level twenty JohnWillStab and six level fifties.

"StyGore: Cut that s#*t out!"

From across the room came a sound, the door opened and a player in a thick, fur-lined coat entered the room.

Whispers spread across the room as the man walked up to the inn-keeper his face suddenly lit up as he said something to the cloaked figure, who turned his head towards the fight, seeing JohnWillStab holding onto the waitress who luckily ran out of stamina and so stopped beating him.

StyGore saw this and turned to the cloaked figure.

"StyGore: Who the hell are you?"

[https://i.imgur.com/xzvbeE3.png]

"Kwispii: Leave NPC alone."

"StyGore: Another fu#*ing roleplayer! What are these, your breeding grounds or something!?"

As he said that, Kwispii made his way towards the man, slowly, he was using the /walk command.

As Kwispii closed the distance between himself and StyGore he realised Kwispii was at least a head taller, if not more.

He may have only been a clump of pixels on the screens of a few players, but an aura of intimidation radiated off him.

"Naxx: What’s your deal!? We’re just fixing the NPCs!"

"Kwispii: The Innkeeper is good friend, he ask you to stop, so stop."

"Naxx: So he’s broken too!? I’ll fix him right away!"

The man dropped the cloak revealing he was a harpy, a small beak and grey feathers, he had a considerable large belly, though his muscles were also very defined, his eyes were green and black, he was wearing black trousers that looked like regular sweatpants, and a white, sleeveless shirt.

As Naxx started making his way towards the innkeeper he was stopped by Kwispii who performed what looked like a gentle pat on his back, but before he reached the innkeeper the man fell into four slices, as if he was slice up by the claws of some beast.

Not saying anything, StyGore looked to Kwispii, he saw the serious look in his eyes, it wasn’t a sadistic look, it wasn’t a hateful look, it was the look of disappointment.

Blurple started casting another lighting spell and as it flew towards the man, he simply took it head on, the spell making contact with him before flying down, as if it suddenly weighed as much as an anvil.

As soon as it hit the floor it dissipated.

Another few brave souls made their way towards Kwispii, each one looking for an opening in his stance which was simply him standing, as one of them was close enough to strike him they suddenly jumped back, their health was taking some serious damage.

He was about to call Kwispii out for allegedly being a cheater before he realised he wasn’t able to.

The player couldn’t say what they wanted, he couldn’t even type in chat.

From behind a wet thud was heard, as he turned back he saw a meaty pulp on the ground, he clicked on it and read that it was called “Your throat.”

Moments later his character fell to the floor, dead from blood-loss.

StyGore didn’t realise his hand was trembling in real life, he was so focused on the game his brain forgot Kwispii wasn’t real.

StyGore started backing away until his back was pressed up against a wall.

"StyGore: I’m sorry!"

Kwispii took another step forward before crouching down slightly to be on StyGore’s eye-level.

"Kwispii: You will leave NPC alone, yes?"

"StyGore: YES! OF COURSE!"

"Kwispii: And if you see NPC in trouble?"

"StyGore: I’LL HELP THEM OUT, OF COURSE!"

Kwispii placed a hand on StyGore’s shoulder, a moment of silence passed but no damage was dealt.

"Kwispii: Good. Then you are my comrade."

He stood up and turned to JohnWillStab who has by now put the NPC down.

"Kwispii: You, undead."

JohnWillStab was covered from head to toe, there was no way to tell what race he was.

"JohnWillStab: Yes?"

"Kwispii: You tried to save NPC, yes?"

"JohnWillStab: Yeah."

"Kwispii: What is your class, undead?"

"JohnWillStab: Dagger and fist…"

"Kwispii: Good, I thought so, do you have style yet?"

"JohnWillStab: Style? he looked at his scarf, unsure of how to answer."

Kwispii turned to TygGore who suddenly felt the urge to explain the different styles for the fist class.

"StyGore: Styles! YES! OF COURSE! A fist-class can learn some martial arts!"

"StyGore: When you use a fist ability, it changes - for example, if you hit a rock a 1000 times and it breaks, you will only need to hit a rock 900 times to break it."

"StyGore: Now, once your ability becomes distinct enough, you are able to customize things like the name, icon and the sort!"

"StyGore: You are also able to pass on the ability! You can then keep improving it and pass it on further!"

"JohnWillStab: So you selectively-breed an ability?"

"Kwispii: Yes, thank you, comrade StyGore."

"StyGore: Happy to help! I’m a crab-style by the way, let me know if you need some help, I’d be happy to help!"

StyGore then moved over and started fixing the tables, occasionally picking trash off the ground.

Kwispii turned back to JohnWillStab.

"Kwispii: So, undead, do you have style?"

"JohnWillStab: No, just my default abilities."

"Kwispii: Do you wish to learn style to help protect?"

"JohnWillStab: A style to protect? Like a tank?"

"Kwispii: Yes, do you want power like tank?"

"JohnWillStab: I’m only level 20, is that a problem?"

"Kwispii: No. I will get you to fifty in week."

This was exactly what JohnWillStab wanted, he needed a way to get stronger, a way to level up, and finally be able to take part in the max-level chess-match going on between all the powerful players, he finally saw the goal of this MMO, and by God he was going to win.

"JohnWillStab: Of course!"

"Kwispii: Good, I have already purchased what I came for."

"StyGore: Good luck!"

"Kwispii: Yes, I will be back soon, I hope you and the NPCs will be well."

With that, the two left the inn.