"Ow many bleedin' quests did we do for the Guild in the last two weeks, Bo?"
While we both have a stupid word floating above, COTTONEYEJOE looks happy about his.
His friend, or whoever the other player is, won't move from the Crafting Table.
"Ah, 'e's AFK. Or it could be 'is afternoon kip. Bleedin' 'ell! Thanks, uh, Noob?"
His voice is rough with a palpable accent, a bit more mature than what you'd expect from his looks and how he acts.
"Oh, um, yeah, that's me."
It only takes him a moment to send a friend request, and a system message follows up shortly after.
[From now on you get 30% off every item you buy in the Origin Textile Works.]
Wow. That's quite generous. Even if he sent those out of the blue accepting them might be worthwhile.
If they make bandages and that's how you stop the bleeding, this will be a shop to visit often.
Okay, let's humor him before getting out of here. The clock's ticking, and he gives off some weird vibes.
It feels forced, not my Jazz, but not threatening either.
His wares are lighter than the vials, the two boxes contain two hundred each, and weigh less than a kilo.
It would be smart to stock up, although the limited quick-access slots are an issue.
It's logical to put the shield and the bow on them. The sword or the dagger too, whichever is better.
The problem comes when there are injuries, poison, or bleeding involved.
With three more slots, the antidote, healing potion, and these dressings would be on it too.
The selected items also appear on the belt, or in the shield's and bow's case, on the back.
The rest is in an invisible backpack somewhere on the body, and it takes time to find everything.
As the tutorial message noted it can make the difference between life and death.
Premium users get ten slots, right? Oh, shit, the tutorial. That's what I forgot to ask from Tank.
And he takes getting lost in thought an encouragement. Did the character look like he stopped here to have a chat?
No matter how often I decide to pay better attention and don't freeze up, this keeps happening. Something must be wrong with this head.
"So you're British too, mate?"
He grabs my hand for a shake, looking enthusiastic. He acted so grumpy and bored a second ago, and now he's like a puppy greeting a new playmate.
"Did you start recently? Ah, you're only level eight, huh? Are you questin' for the Guild then?"
With his enthusiasm, there's no chance to answer everything.
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
"N-no, I'm Dutch, more or less. I started like two days ago, and yes."
This is the best attempt, but he runs out the back halfway through.
His level isn't visible, but there's an abbreviation after his name, that spells OTW.
A few seconds later he returns with a padded vest like the one they use in the tutorial.
Everything smells like sheep, even though that's not what these materials are.
They look cotton, not wool, does the system know the difference between them? Does anybody know these days?
Ah, shut up, Arnim, like you're a big expert. Everything you touched was cheap and synthetic, at least in the real world.
Let's not judge the devs, who knows what their background is?
They did a decent job considering how rare these fabrics became after the last century.
The animals look realistic, well-fed, and happy, chewing grass behind the tower.
They stare in with curious eyes, and there's no glitchiness or other weird stuff.
They have no names displayed as the NPCs do, so they look more natural.
These might be the first animals in the game that aren't monsters trying to murder everyone.
" 'Ere, take this for free, we made it for a quest but forgot to turn it in on time an' it got canceled."
He offers, also holding a few other clothes and yet more bandages.
"Do you need anythin' else? We bought out the starter village's textile works, an' now I'm drownin' in cotton."
Did he even hear the reply? What do you say to something like this?
The plus-two Res armor that Tank gave for completing the tutorial is better, and the old vest is in the stash.
Is he trying to brag, act generous, or want to get rid of his unsold stock?
"Ah, sorry, the inventory is almost full of mission junk."
When in doubt, lie something believable.
"I'd buy some dressing though. Skeletons are a pain in the ass. The tutorial didn't say how to treat bleeding, the Pharmacist had to explain how bandages work. And she ordered a bunch."
"Ah, the Pharmacy. Oy, Bo, 'oo bought that place?"
Still no answer, his buddy is only here in body, slaving away at the table, spawning more and more bandages.
This doesn't bother Joe at all.
"Or do you mean the NPCs? Sometimes these geezers give decent tips."
"Yeah, the nameless shopkeeper girl. She offered to treat wounds because of the standings or whatever."
The response makes him rub his chin, glancing at the NPC behind the counter too.
He's also a nameless one dubbed Receptionist.
"I still didn't figure out 'ow to automate the standings wiv the players an' the NPC corps. No wait, they are clans in this game, always mix these up."
He ponders, turning back towards his friend who's still non-responsive.
"Whatever. At least I could set the gankers red."
"Aren't their names red already? Like yours was."
It's hard to follow what he's on about, and he stops the avatar in its tracks as I try to leave.
"No, I mean the standings, the standings." He clarifies, not that it helps.
"The shop 'as an access list that allows anyone to enter during openin' hours. Anyone except those fuckers, so I set it to lock anyone out wiv a security status lower than zero."
"T-then how did you enter?" If red means a negative security status, he was the same before this job updated his standings.
"Well, of course, I can enter, when this place is mine." He hollers, slapping my shoulder as if we were buddies already.
"Okay, come on, Noob, I'll grab you some extra bandages then, free of charge as thanks for turnin' me name gray again."
"What happened to it anyway?"
The moment this question leaves the mouth it's instant regret.
His eyes light up, desperate for attention.
He starts his drawn-out story about how his character got into trouble on his first days in the game.
"You know those bleedin' gankers in front of the Adventurer's Guild, right?"
He starts, pulling out a nice-looking steel sword. Let's hope he doesn't want to use it.
"I only registered, runnin' some quests an' puttin' together a nice gear, when they surround me."
How long will this story last? There's less than a day to get around thirty thousand more Exp.
It's unlikely that the system would reward listening to his yapping. He's not the type that takes no for an answer either.
No, he's not even giving a chance to utter an answer. Help, I'm stuck here.