The alchemist's shop was on the opposite end of the square to the tavern, marked by rows of colourful potions in the window and a wooden sign showing a mortar and pestle. He headed straight into the shop, and stopped to ogle the sight before him. Potions of every colour smothered shelves on the walls. One display case held a potion full of a glowing, lurid green liquid. Another one, blue, had a ball of light darting around inside, not dissimilar to his astral crystal. A tall and almost emaciated looking man looked around from behind a countertop littered with old scrolls and fragile looking equipment.
"What can I do for you?" The tall, gaunt man stared at Morgan with an unsettling intensity. Withering a little under the gaze, he stammered out. "Hi, sir. Er, Ma Baker said you may have some work for me?"
"Yes. I am Simmon." The man paused a moment, his eyes never leaving Morgan's. "Come."
[Quest - Talk to Simmon - 5XP - Completed]
He turned and strode into the backroom, and Morgan followed. The room was large, and smelled of an exotic mix of herbs and spices that were mostly alien to his senses. Dried plants hung from the roof beams, and jars of powders and pastes filled most of the surfaces. The man took a jar full of a dull orange powder from a shelf and, turning, addressed Morgan.
"This is ground Ragthistle. From the Ragthistle plant. You know thistles, the spiky headed plant?" Morgan nodded, and Simmon continued. "It is like that, with an orange top. I require some. There is a copse of fir trees a couple of miles away to the south, they grow around the lake nearby. I can loan you this for a deposit of 30 silver." He held up a sickle in a belt sheath. "If you gather twenty thistles for me, I will give the deposit back, and you can keep it. Deal?"
[Quest - Ragthistle - 200XP]
[Collect 20 Ragthistle and deliver them to alchemist Simmon]
[Accept?]
Morgan took a moment to identify the sickle.
[Identify - Sharp Agricultural Sickle - Tool]
[Use: Allows the harvesting of certain herbs and plants]
[Durability - 35/35]
[Melee Damage - 42-58]
It was better than his stick, at any rate. He didn't really have anything else to do anyway, so he focused his assent to the accept button. As he did so, a new icon became visible in the top right of his vision. A bold white 'Q', presumably for 'Quests', a position supported by the fact that as he focused on it a text box floated up.
[Quest - 0/20 Ragthistle]
He blinked the information away, and smiled at the alchemist. "It's a deal. Got any tips for me?"
Simmon frowned at Morgan for a moment before replying. "The thistle is easy to spot, and I only need the head. Do beware of the lake murlocs, however. They're small and not very clever, but they tend to appear in packs. That is all."
Morgan took the sickle and attached the sheath to a pair of belt loops, where it sat snugly. He thanked Simmon, and promising his quick return, headed out of the shop and back into the village. With renewed purpose, he strode the cobbled streets, following the main thoroughfare out of the village in a southerly direction. A few characters milled about, and a couple of players dressed in full leather armour, with spears on their backs and wicked looking blades at their hips strode imperiously through. Behind them trailed another player in homespun clothes, carrying several packs and looking down at the cobbles as he walked. The two armoured men replied to Morgan's friendly wave with condescending glares. As he was processing this scene, he saw on the edge of the village a brightly coloured cart with a red canvas cover. A hatch on the side of the wagon was folded down to form a counter, which had a few items on it; a small bright yellow fish, a ratty looking leather vambrace and a particularly decorative spoon. Morgan eyed up the items as he got closer.
[Identify - Yellowfin]
[Crafting Material - Common]
[Identify - Copper studded vambrace]
[Durability - 45/45]
[Defence - 15]
[Identify - Engraved Spoon]
[Charm - Common]
[Increases XP gain from food by 1%]
As he was admiring these wares, a maniacal voice pierced through the canvas and a man with a weathered face and wild eyes appeared behind the counter. "Ooooh I know you like them. 50 copper for the tasty fish, 20 silver for the sturdy vambrace and 4 gold for the dainty 'lil spoon. I've also got a lovely fluffy dressing gown in here that I'd part with for a half a gold or so. It's a nice dark blue, see?" The man whipped a long garment made of blue fluff across the opening in a display that reminded Morgan of a peacock unfurling its tail. Morgan thought about it for a moment. He'd not seen a charm before, and it looked useful, but it was out of his price range. The vambrace, on the other hand, he could afford. Thinking back to the bloody holes in his arm and leg, he decided a little armour would be worth spending some of his coin on.
"Hi there, I'm Morgan. That's a lovely dressing gown." The man behind the counter visibly perked up at this comment. "But I don't think I'm in the market for one right now." The man deflated a little. "But I will take the vambrace, if I may. I think I'm going to need it." Morgan gestured at the hole in his shirt with one hand as he grabbed 20 silvers out with the other. He presented it to the man in the wagon. The man beamed with delight as he scooped the coins up and made them disappear so fast that Morgan had no idea how they'd left his hand. "It's all yours, boyo. Finest light armour that is, got it from one of the northern expeditions. I'm Zekel by the way. Pleasure doing business with ya."
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"Likewise, thanks Zekel." Morgan replied as he took the vambrace from the counter and applied it to his left forearm. He waved to Zekel as he left, and admired his new armour. It was shaped leather, a half tube shape with corded lace run through eyelets at the long edges of the leather to attach it on his arm. It wasn't covered in copper studs as the name suggested, but rather a few strips of copper had been sewn into the leather to add protection. Feeling happy with his new purchase, though it wasn't a lot and probably looked bizarre, at least he had a bit of armour now, he started to head out of the village and down a path between two walled fields.
By the time he was getting close to the copse of tall fir trees, the sun was rapidly fading over the western horizon, the air steadily cooling. Morgan paused for a minute, thinking about trying to harvest plants in the dark. Shrugging to himself, he continued on towards the copse, spotting the lake and heading towards it. It was this or hang around in the village, probably achieving nothing, or heading to the inn and spending more silver. He steeled his resolve as he approached the lake, and started scanning the rapidly darkening ground for signs of Ragthistle. The area between around the lake was overgrown with tall grasses and shrubs, and he headed to the zone between the copse and the lake to start searching. He found his first orange tipped Ragthistle as he almost walked over it; it was about half the height of the surrounding grasses. Leaning down, he inspected it.
[Identify - Ragthistle]
[Crafting Material - Common]
It was certainly the right plant. He readied his sickle, took the head of the plant in one hand, and swiped at the stalk. The head detached easily, but as he held it in his hand it rapidly desiccated and turned into chaff.
[Congratulations, you have acquired the Harvest skill]
[This skill marks your proficiency at the harvesting of plants]
[Harvest failed]
He stared aghast at the disappearing thistle head. It was looking like this wasn't going to be such a walk in the park after all. He blundered around in the grass for a while, carefully separating the heads of any Ragthistle he found. By the time the bright moon was high in the sky, he'd failed five more harvests and successfully harvested one, which he placed in his bag's last free slot. His harvesting skill reached level 2 with his solitary success.
[Quest - 1/20 Ragthistle]
He wandered to a spot nearer the lake and started the process again. Navigating around the shrubs, he managed to find a small clump of thistles in some shorter grass near the long dead stump of an old tree. He walked up to them, idly swinging his sickle, when a noise caused him to stop dead in his tracks. A gurgling noise like a sink at the end of draining came from close by in the direction of the lake, followed quickly by a similar sound to his left, and then his right. A chill of fear ran down his spine at the unknown noises coming from around him. Taking a couple of steps back, he clutched his sickle in a white knuckled hand. Out of the long grass in front of him, a green skinned, waist high figure appeared. Some unholy union of man and fish had produced whatever the hell this was. It walked on two short legs with webbed feet and had two short arms that were attached to a fishlike body. Its face was froglike, and a large, webbed fin crested the top of its head.
[Identify - Merloc scout - Level 3]
[Race - Monster/Amphibian]
[HP - 200/200]
[SP - 220/220]
The creature eyed Morgan, a couple of meters away, raising what looked to be a sharp piece of flint in its hand in a threatening manner. With another gurgling sound, it suddenly threw itself at Morgan, slashing wildly with its stone shard as a similar creature emerged from around a shrub to his left. He managed to step out of the way of the creature's wild swing, missing the creature in return as he swung his sickle hastily in a warding arc in front of him. The creature who had emerged from the left saw its opportunity and lunged at Morgan, managing to strike him in the side and leap away again. With a sharp pain, the pointed rock connected with a rib and bounced off, leaving a cut and winding him.
[-22 HP]
Morgan cursed at the creatures, his eyes bouncing from one to the other, both eyeing him and his flailing sickly warily. He wasn't sure if he could take two of them at once, but perhaps if he rushed one quickly, he could take it down before turning to the other. Resolving himself to this plan, he charged at the merloc that had struck him. The creature managed to parry his first blow, but it didn't manage to catch his second that almost severed its arm at the shoulder.
[Left Arm - 56 Damage]
[Congratulations, you have acquired the Blade skill.]
[This skill marks your proficiency at using bladed weaponry.]
The murloc gargled at him in rage, it's left arm now hanging uselessly by its side, a green ichor pouring from the wound. The other merloc hadn't been idle and had launched itself at the distracted man's open back. As he'd finished his second swing, a pain spread up from his lower back, where the other merloc had driven its rock shard in.
[-58 HP - Bleeding]
He growled with the pain, forgetting about the injured creature and turning to face the one that's stone was lodged in his back. He lunged at it wildly, trying to ignore the pain shooting up his back with every movement. He connected with the creature's arm as it bought it up to shield itself, but the blow was at a bad angle and skittered along the Merlocs’ fishlike scales.
[Hit - Right Arm - 14 Damage.]
He rolled out of the way to dodge another blow from the now one armed Merloc that was gurgling at him with a possessed fury. The stone dug deeper into his back as he rolled on it.
[-12 HP - Bleeding]
He yowled in pain, quickly righting himself, and he was barely on his feet before he was quickly bowled over again by the unarmed merloc. The merloc punched him in the face before he could react.
[-20HP - Crit - Stunned for 1 second]
He groggily noticed the one-armed merloc charging towards his prone form, powerless to react as it plunged its stone shard into his thigh.
[-44HP - Bleeding]
Screaming with the pain, he managed to thrash his other leg at the creature, knocking it off balance. He grabbed the merloc that was trying to pound his face, and with a roar, managed to stand and flung it into a nearby bush. It sailed through the air, gurgling angrily, before crashing into the brush. Panting and afraid, Morgan lashed out with his good leg at the merloc that had stabbed his thigh, connecting with it and knocking it over.
[Hit - Torso - 12 Damage]
The weakened thigh he was left balancing on refused to take his weight, and he fell over once more, in the opposite direction to his opponent. He landed on his side, sparing himself from the rock embedded in his back, and as he looked around, he spied a fresh set of webbed feet. He got up at the same time as the downed creature he'd kicked over, and as the second merloc extracted itself from the bush. The new figure was larger than the other two, more blue than green and its webbing was decorated with small shells. It carried a staff, topped with the small skull of a creature he didn't recognise. He quickly inspected the new arrival.
[Identify - Merloc Puddlekeeper - Level 5]
[Race - Monster/Amphibian]
[HP - 225/225]
[SP - 180/180]
[MP - 200/200]
He noted it's level and mana with despair. That must mean it could cast magic, and he was having a hard time facing off against two of the creatures; with this addition to the fight, he knew the day was lost. The three Murlocs started to fan out to surround him, and the big Merloc started a guttural gargling chant. Morgan did the only thing he could think of, and started sprinting back towards the village, running through the one-armed merloc, smashing him over as the creature's stone scored his unprotected arm.
[-18 HP - Bleeding]
A glowing bolt of ice whipped past his head, missing him by centimetres, streaking into the grass beyond. Limping slightly on his injured thigh, blood streaming down his arm, and a stone protruding from his back, he struggled through the long moonlit grass, outstripping the short-legged creature's pace. By the time he made it back to the road, the angry guttural sounds had started to fade away. He collapsed by the wall that lined the road, shivering in the cold night air as the adrenaline started to fade from his system. He took a moment to check his health.
[HP - 234/482]
[SP - 44/356]
[MP -200/200]
He was under half health from the fight, in worse condition than after the forest beetle, and he had barely got any hits back off against the merlocs. He was beginning to think that perhaps going to the training camp the dwarf had spoken of would be a good idea. His level and skills weren't enough yet to be scrapping with bands of monsters, and he was disheartened and shaken by the fight. His stamina must have been drained by the frantic sprint, but he'd noted his athletics skill had risen as he ran. He reached around his back to grasp the protruding stone, and with a wrench and a whimper, pulled it out.
[-22 HP - Bleeding]