Oblivion. Сhief. Strangers.

There was a lot of dust in the cabin, but I managed to find a lot of interesting things in it: empty bottles, a mortar, a pestle for Alchemy, small scales, a shabby book, sheets of old parchment, and three empty scrolls. All of this, including a handful of the dust, I put in my bag. I locked the door and set off on a journey that ended immediately after I left the cabin. It’s great! Now, how do I get to the village?

“Walk along the path of the white flowers and the crystal river to the old oak, then turn to the side where the sun sets,” the fox’s voice sounded in my head. “It’s not far from here.”

I love it. What an interesting way of communication. I was very angry when I learned that the road to the village was more than nine miles away, according to my map as I noted the desired place with a gray inverted triangle. It spoiled all the mystery of Reena’s speech.

Since I hadn’t explored the area yet, the map displayed fog. Grumbling a little, I set off on my journey.

For four hours, I waded through the windbreak. Poisonous white flowers with rather small but damn sharp thorns slightly spoiled the journey. They pierced my skin like a surgeon’s scalpel, causing very serious pain. To tell you the truth, it was so painful that I screamed with each touch.

It’s weird. I have reduced the pain level to its minimum, necessary for playing. I got the effect from the ‘Poisoning’ in only ten seconds, during which I almost died, and so I carefully picked up a bunch of these flowers just in case.

The river was clear and shone like a crystal in the sun from afar.

I thought I was very lucky that there was nothing dangerous in this river until I decided to quench my thirst.

Such effects as ‘Freezing’, ‘Dumbness’, and ‘Poisoning’ were obtained immediately, and then a little bit later I received ‘Temporary insensitivity’. I survived thanks to the last effect, as it blocked the damage, though I did suffer a little. Apparently, this was the developers’ goal. If I meet any of them, I’ll be sure to give them a couple of flasks with that water.

I was afraid to approach the oak tree which had a dark-red trunk and orange-yellow leaves. However, after a couple of minutes, I pulled myself together, tore off one branch carefully, and then immediately went in the direction of the setting sun, as the clearing seemed to be rather dangerous. Forty minutes later, I finally reached the village.

‘Oblivion’ is not a bad name; it is very encouraging. I hope there are no players here. Hang on… I must be wrong. There are at least two dozen strangers here.

The village was relatively small. There were about fifty houses and a small market where locals traded with the players and among themselves. I immediately went to see what they were selling.

The stalls were crowded with vegetables, fish, crayfish, wicker baskets, clothes, bast shoes, and so on. In general, there were quite a lot of very useful and necessary things. I wish I had money. Oh, yeah, and I’ve been in the game for two days and still haven’t eaten anything. Anyway, I can’t spend my coin. The merchants’ shouts almost deafened me.

“Buy hare tails at a discount!”

“I’m looking for hitchhikers to go to Kars. I’m tired of sitting here!”

“I’m doing equipment increasing any basic parameter for three stat points, this is cheap!”

“I need a healer to complete a quest. We’ll share the reward equally!”

Unlike the locals, the players were too loud and kept annoying me. I didn’t understand why they shouted so loudly—there were no more than twenty players from the real world, the rest lived in the game.”

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“I don’t understand how the locals tolerate them. If I were a chief, I would have chased them away or sent them to the forest.”

“I agree with you,” a very bright man said. I seemed to have said the last sentence aloud.

He was a little taller than me, and he had black hair, a small beard, and a deep scar cut through the left half of his face, passing near his eye. He was dressed in an old black vest, ordinary pants, and good boots.

“I want to get rid of all these screamers, but I have failed. When I go up to them, they look at me as if I am a duke, who’ll get them a bag of gold from his pocket, and they ask me to give them a quest.

There is a lot of work in our village, but they don’t want to farm, to grow vegetables, or drive away rats. They consider these quests to be too ordinary. They want to fight scary and dangerous monsters. But such monsters don’t live in or near our village.”

“Let Areen bless us,” an old woman, walking nearby, agreed.

“Why have you wandered into Oblivion, Stranger?” The chief asked me; it was certainly him.

“I’m tired of wandering in the forest, I’ve come to meet people and to buy provisions for my journey,” I replied, trying to look like a real stranger.

“Maybe you can help the village. I’ll give you a good reward, offer food, and other good things. Your clothes are worn out from the road.” The chief looked at me with hope. He seemed as though maybe he had been a good warrior before.

“I’m listening to you, dear sir.”

“That’s great!”

Chief Gromwald offers you the quest ‘Annoying Strangers’

Description: A group of twenty strangers arrived in Rainea from other worlds. They came to the distant village of Oblivion. They don't want to help the residents, and they prevent them from living in peace. They have got a bad reputation for their shouting, swearing, and disgusting attitude toward the locals. However, these strangers are strong, and the locals can’t cope with them

Terms: to banish the strangers from the village or make them help the residents

Reward: provisions for a week (onions, carrots, an apple, bread, meat, milk, honey, dried fish, boiled crayfish) and good clothes;

+ 1000 with the residents’ reputation; a good relationship with the inhabitants (sympathy)

Accept(Yes/No)

“Of course, I will help you, Chief, but I can’t promise to do so immediately, because it seems they are all immortal strangers with serious behavioral problems.”

“I know. We have put up with them for a week. I guess we will have to do it for another one.” The severe man sighed and clenched his fist.

If these strangers would be normal NPCs the chief would have just buried them in the ground. But they were immortal characters, and they could turn the village into the Hellish Abyss.

I felt sorry for the locals and decided to move stuff around and complete this quest. Besides, the sooner I get it done, the sooner I can eat. Stop, stop! What?

I looked at the chief and pinched myself. The NPC just gave me a quest, associated with other players. But this is impossible! The chief must have a high-level artificial intelligence. Am I mistaken?

Usually, NPCs offered a standard set of quests or generate new ones, taking into account the game’s objectives, but now the tasks were associated with other players. Um... this is very unusual. I made a note in my diary, approached a small group of three players, and asked what they were doing here.

“Oh, look a new NPC!” I heard a burly orc’s voice.

“Maybe, he’ll give us a new quest.” A dwarf scratched his beard. I found his idea very interesting.

The third character was just silent and looked at me carefully. It was Brafmapurta, an orc of the 20th level. I guessed that the player was probably a schoolboy in real life because the name was written incorrectly. The second player was Dwagold Copper. He was an elder dwarf of the 23rd level, and his name seemed weird to me. The last player was a human who had the 31st level, and his name was Karavel Levarra.

I think they’re brothers. The dwarf and the orc stared at me viciously, quickly looking at Karavel and then back at me. I was sure of it.

“Stranger, what are you doing in this village?” the elder brother asked me. I would call the man this way.

“I’ve traveled a lot. I’m looking for brave guys coming here from other worlds.” I did my best to look natural. “Because only they might cope with my difficulties. Only the immortals are capable of it.”

“Brother, we’ve met a normal NPC at last!”

Why does this orc keeps calling me an NPC?

“He’s able to give us a good quest, unlike these local farmers.”

“Shut up, Shoorik. Fedya won’t like it.” The dwarf pushed the orc.

“Are you brothers?” I tried to look surprised. “Can an orc and a human be brothers?”

“We are from another world. There is an ancient order, where it doesn’t matter what race you belong to, and anyone can become a brother to anyone else,” the elder brother explained.

“What’s your problem, Stranger?”

“I see that you are powerful and are able to help me,” I replied, trying to interest the players. “But I need a little rest first.”

“Okay, now let’s talk about your request in the inn?”

“Sure, I don’t mind.”

So, the three strangers and I hit the road.