He had taken the place of the statue.
“Congratulations, you’re a sage!” Wyatt said.
“A what?”
“Focus on yourself.”
For a second, Justin thought Wyatt meant for him to check himself out, so he looked down and saw that he was dressed in some sort of medieval costume with leggings and a tunic and short leather boots. From a thick leather belt hung various pouches and a scabbard with a short sword. He also wore some sort of cross-body belt. A baldric, it was called. Although he wasn’t exactly sure how he knew that.
Then he brought up his own overlay:
:::::. Justin Boone. (Player). Level: 1. Profession: sage. Health: 7. Combat action: 1. Combat opposition: 1. Magic action: 0. Magic opposition: 2. Lore: 5, Knowledge: 10. Experience: 0 .:::::
“Well?” Wyatt asked. “What do you think?”
Justin stepped off the pedestal. “I don’t know. I’m kind of wimpy. My health is only 7. Combat scores are all ones. My highest skill is ‘knowledge’ at 10.”
“Newsflash. Warriors and battle mages are a dime a dozen. Anyone can kill monsters. But not everyone knows the deep background info that connects everything. That gives you amazing perspective. You may end up leading your own party—or even a fellowship.”
This was still a bummer, no matter how Wyatt tried to spin it.
“What now?” Justin asked.
Wyatt said, “Now it’s time for you and I to part ways.” He gave Justin an awkward fist-bump, then pointed to the door at the end of the hall.
“Next stop: Greystrand.”
“Okay. Thanks for everything, I guess.”
“Oh. There may be some sort of customer satisfaction survey when we’re done. I’d appreciate if you gave me a good rating.”
“Are you serious?”
Wyatt grinned. “No, I’m not serious. Have fun out there.”
And then he vanished.
At first Justin was shocked. He had never seen anyone vanish right in front of his eyes. This was wild. He found himself staring at the empty space where Wyatt had stood. But then it dawned on him that Wyatt might be an enchanter and could have used a teleport spell to exit the room. Or he might still be here, but just turned invisible.
Squatting down, Justin ran his hands along the surface of the stone floor. Darn. Not that much dust. If Wyatt was invisible, he still might leave tracks in the dust. Unless he was able to levitate. That would be a whole different story.
Okay, he was just spinning his wheels. Better figure out how to get out of here instead.
He walked over to the door at the end of the hall. It looked solid enough. Wood construction—maybe oak—with heavy iron hinges and heavy iron bands reinforcing the planks. No lock, though.
He probably should listen at the door and see if he could determine what was on the other side. But, realistically, he knew he had little chance of detecting anything. He wasn’t a scout after all.
What the hell, might as well get this over with. If I die, I die.
It wouldn’t really matter until he hit level 5. And that was a long way away.
Justin pushed the door open and found himself in some sort of library. He walked down a narrow dark hallway lined with shelves of books. But then the hallway opened into an atrium with an ornate mosaic floor of concentric circles.
As he looked up, Justin saw hundreds of floating globes, made of all different materials in all different colors, and ranging in size from a couple of inches to one that was as tall as he was.
It was an incredible sight.
The library itself rose three stories, all open to the atrium, which was topped by a latticed glass dome. Rays of light streamed through the dome, illuminating the globes.
Justin just gaped, turning slowly to take everything in.
“Come hither, boy, you’re late enough as it is!” A gruff voice echoed throughout the library.
For a moment, Justin couldn’t tell where the voice was coming from, but then he spotted a short man leaning over the third floor balcony. The man had sharp features and looked to be in his late 50s or early 60s. He was clad in a thick black fur coat and a thick black fur cap that seemed more appropriate for an Eskimo, not a medieval librarian.
“Stop your dawdling, boy and attend me at once!”
Justin focused on the man and popped up the overlay:
:::::. Master Desiderius. (Sage Trainer). Friendly .:::::
Well, that made sense. Might as well get going with some training.
If Greystrand was like other RPGs he had played, he knew that the first few levels would probably be kind of a grind. The sooner he got them over with, the better.
He spotted a circular metal staircase at the far end of the library and followed it up to the third floor. Then he made his way to the trainer.
Master Desiderius looked him up and down for the briefest moment then motioned for Justin to follow him. As they walked, the trainer muttered, “I’ve been waiting for a week for a proper acolyte and this is what they send me.”
“Excuse me?” Justin asked. He couldn’t believe this little man’s attitude.
“You will spoke only when spoken to, acolyte!”
“And what if I don’t?”
“Then you will find yourself polishing globes for the next six months, your only view being the inside of this library.”
Was this an idle threat? Or could Master Desiderius really tie him up with nuisance work? He decided he didn’t want to find out, so he played along.
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“Yes, Master. My sincerest apologies.”
“That’s more like it.”
They wound their way through the various stacks and up another flight of stairs leading to a landing and a delicate wrought-iron interior bridge that crossed the atrium. It didn’t look very sturdy, but Master Desiderius waddled quickly across the bridge, not even checking to see if Justin was keeping up.
On the other side of the bridge was landing which led to a cluttered office, with bookcases stuffed with books and tables piled high with notebooks, scroll cases, maps, globes, and more stacks of books.
Master Desiderius shooed a gray cat off his chair and sat down. He didn’t offer Justin a seat—maybe because there weren’t any other chairs in the room that didn’t have books on them.
“Well, I’m a busy man, boy, so I’ll make this quick. You’re familiar with the world quest, aren’t you? What am I saying? Everyone knows about the world quest.”
“Actually, I’m afraid I’ve never heard of that. They didn’t tell us anything about any world quest during the briefing—”
But as the words came out of his mouth, Justin realized that he actually did know what the world quest was. It was the entire point of the game. Every single player in Greystrand was trying to find an ancient artifact known as the Shadow Lance. It was the only weapon capable of destroying Dynark, the demon lord who had been inadvertently released from a tomb in the deepest reaches of an ancient delving known as Hell’s Gate. Dynark was now plotting the destruction of the free people of Greystrand and had to be stopped. And only those wielding the Lance had any chance of stopping the demon.
Justin shook his head. Where the hell had all that info come from? He didn’t remember reading up on the lore… And then he got it. His lore skill. Maybe it was actually good for something.
“Will you stop your infernal gaping? Your rudeness knows no bounds.”
“I’m sorry, Master Desiderius. I did remember what the world quest was. Locate the Shadow Lance and—”
“Wrong!” the trainer bellowed.
“I’m pretty sure—”
“Wrong!” Desiderius shouted again. “If you don’t know the answer to something, don’t just make things up. It’s insulting.”
“But I wasn’t making anything up. The Shadow Lance—”
Desiderius cut him off. “There is no such thing as a Shadow Lance and even if there were, it certainly has nothing to do with the world quest. Now if you are done with your foolishness, perhaps I could impart what I am obligated to tell you and then you might do me the small kindness of leaving my sight forever. How does that sound, boy?”
“Whatever.”
Master Desiderius took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. His face was drained of color and he twitched oddly. Justin wondered if the little man was about to have a heart attack.
But then he twitched again and continued to spout off as if nothing was amiss.
“The good adventurers of Greystrand seek something known as the Iron Veil. No one knows the nature of this Veil, or whether it be a weapon or magical artifact. Your mission, like everyone else’s, is to locate the Iron Veil, but unlike nearly everyone else, you have a considerable advantage.”
He fished an object from the folds of his ridiculous fur coat and placed it on the desk. “This…”
Justin leaned over to get a better look. The object was a jeweled metal scroll case, maybe six inches long. The metal appeared to be brass or bronze embellished with ornate metal swirls and other adornments and inlaid with an array of small jewels.
“Go ahead, take it. It’s meant for you, after all.”
Justin picked up the scroll case. It felt way too light to be made of metal, but it obviously was. As he turned the case over and inspected it further, he noticed a decorative plate upon which was engraved his name: Justin Boone. This was weird. Very weird.
“What is it?” he asked.
“It’s your blood clue, of course.”
Justin opened his mouth to ask what a blood clue was, but then the answer popped into his head.
A blood clue was something that would help you successfully complete the world quest. But it was just for the person whose name was engraved on its case. And whatever was on the scroll inside the case was just for him. No one else could even read it.
Finally something cool.
Master Desiderius stared at him with a strange look on his face. Not quite disdain. This was something different.
“You are to open that scroll case at the proper time and avail yourself of your blood clue.”
“How will I know when the proper time is?”
“You will know.”
“But how?”
Master Desiderius sighed loudly. “But how?” he mimicked. “You are like a child, assaulting me with useless questions.”
Justin was about to respond, but Master Desiderius cut him off with an angry huff.
“No one can tell you the proper time to avail yourself of your blood clue! It is your clue after all, divinely bestowed, if one believes in that sort of thing.”
Justin shrugged. “Okay, I think I get it.”
“Oh you do?” Desiderius asked sarcastically. “Good. Then it seems that I have fulfilled my duty here, acolyte. I have no doubt that your odious demeanor coupled with your palpable stupidity will all but guarantee your imminent demise, but that is not of my concern. Go in peace.”
He waved his hand dismissively and turned to examine one of the many tomes on his desk.
Justin just stood there, not exactly sure what to do.
“You are dismissed, acolyte. Off with you, now.” Master Desiderius shooed at him again.
“Um, excuse me, Master Desiderius. But aren’t you supposed to train me?”
Desiderius looked up with a sneer on his face. “I’m not supposed to do anything. I keep my own counsel about who I choose to train or not. And you, boy, fall squarely into the latter category. Now begone!”
This was weird. Usually games had a pretty clear chain of quests. Especially starting out. Maybe this one was bugged. He glanced over at Master Desiderius, but the little man remained intent on ignoring him.
“Is there another trainer I should seek out?”
Desiderius said nothing.
Well, screw it then.
Justin slipped his blood clue into one of his belt pouches and left the office. He crossed back over the bridge and made his way down the various staircases until he reached the bottom of the atrium.
Out of curiosity he removed one of the books from a shelf near the staircase. It was a heavy leather-bound volume that looked about a thousand years old. There was no title on the spine, just some numbers, but when he opened it up to the title page, he saw that the book was written in English:
Marlric the Wise; of the chieftain’s last folly.
He thumbed through it and quickly came to the conclusion that it was a dry history of some tribal chieftain in some land called Cloud Reach.
He dropped the book on the floor with a loud thud and looked around. How do you like that, Master Desiderius?
The next book was titled The Origin of Drammachs; containing some interesting observations thereon, together with the causes of its present scarcity. It was similarly boring and worthy of being tossed. Thunk!
Desiderius had to have heard that. Justin waited for a few moments and glanced up at the bridge over his head, but there was no sign of the trainer. He was probably in his office with his fingers stuck in his ears. Well, he can go to hell.
He pulled out a succession of books, one after another, glancing at their titles and then tossing them: The Collected Poems of Sabine the Younger, The Early History of Camdrum and Its Environs, The Record of the Third Eadine Rebellion, A Complete Guide to the Sculpted Arches of Aune. There was nothing interesting in any of them, but it was kind of weird that they were all printed in English.
Justin left the pile of books and walked towards the same door from which he originally entered the library. He should just head back to the hall of statues and see if Wyatt was anywhere to be found. Aside from the sucker punching, Wyatt was a lot more helpful than Master Desiderius. Maybe the intern could tell him how to get going with some starter quests.
But when Justin opened the door, there was no hall on the other side. The was no room there at all. The door opened to the outside, to a town square.
He walked down a few steps and on to a narrow dirt lane. This was freaking amazing!
The town square was lined with one and two-story wattle-and-daub buildings with grass-thatched roofs and it was crowded with people, all dressed in medieval garb. Some were vendors with makeshift stalls, others were workers with two-wheeled carts the size of a wheelbarrow, moving various piles of cloth or wood or other merchandise.
Holgate. That’s where he was. It was a town of around three or four hundred inhabitants located on the edge of the Dark Tree forest, northeast of Rathenhall and south of Marby.
Boom! Thank you, lore skill!
Justin wandered into the square proper. There were kids and dogs and goats and all kinds of commotion. Peddlers and shopkeepers shouted announcements about their wares. Customers loudly bartered. People called for their children. The smell of grilled meat and freshly baked flatbread wafted through the square.
Justin went from stall to stall, taking it all in: the leather crafters hawking bags, pouches, and different kinds of belts and scabbards, the weapon smiths showing off their blades. It was incredible. Almost like a medieval Disneyland.
He randomly focused on a few people and popped up their overlays. Nearly all were NPCs, however he did see a handful of players—all level 1s like him. But the cool things was—just standing there in Holgate’s town square, people-watching—he really couldn’t tell the NPCs from the players.