Don’t laugh at me. I know it’s terrible.
One-hour lugging around a few rotten roof-beams and all of a sudden I’m smitten with my sweaty, angry co-worker and her shock of orange hair.
In that hour, Claire dropped three beams on my toes (she insisted it was accidental), pushed me down the stairs (not an accident), and threw a wad of slimy books into my chest, which had me stinking like ancient scriptures all day.
Could life get much better?
At the end of the hour, Lily thanked us profusely and bestowed us with our rewards. I was busy working out how I’d ‘keep in contact’ with Claire when a notification launched itself out from the corner of my vision, blooming until it was a huge, coloured banner.
LEVEL UP! Your new Level is: Level 1!
Attributable Stat Points: (3)
Attributable Skill Tokens: (1)
Access the ‘Stats’ screen to boost your potential!
It hung around for a few seconds before letting me continue with my life. I had no clue how I’d divvy up the points, but I’d get to that and the Skill Token later.
“Hey Claire, did you get to Level 1?”
“Did yesterday. I reckon I’ll be close to Level 2 soon. Just gotta do a few more odd jobs and find myself some krad.”
“I’m struggling in that department too. Do you want to try hunting together?”
She wandered over to where we’d stored our weapons, retrieving her bow. I’d almost forgotten about the pieces of my spear.
“I was an idiot and used all my krad yesterday, now I can’t pay for arrows. I’m out of options till one of these NPCs throws me a bone. You in the same boat?”
“Yep. I need all sorts of shit.”
We wandered in the direction of Otto’s Pub. I considered asking Otto if he needed a spare pair of hands, but the chances weren’t high, unless I was as dextrous as he was.
“Well, Ollie, how bout we sort out our ammunition and weaponry issues, then meet again another time? I’ll put you in my contacts.”
I hoped I had a decent poker-face, otherwise Claire would’ve seen the elation and nervousness flashing across my face.
Don’t you dare mess this up, Ollie.
“That would be great. I’ll…uh…work hard for you! Err, sorry, for my gear, I mean.”
Shit.
She laughed and gave me a strange look.
“You better, I don’t like waiting around. My name is Claire Pranutal, C-L-A-I-R-E-P-R-A-N-U-T-A-L. You got me?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Okay, cool, bye now!”
She left me in the street, scrambling to add her to my contacts before I forgot the spelling. I sent a ‘Hello!’ message, and a small green tick appeared next to it. Hopefully it sent, because I wasn’t graced with a reply.
Listen to yourself, man. ‘Graced’ with a reply. Pshhh.
With my teen-romance-story put on hold, it was time to make some money.
You’d think that a strong, able-bodied young whippersnapper like me could pick up some fieldwork no problem, but it wasn’t on offer. I went to three paddocks, talked to seven farmers, and was denied the pleasure by all of them.
Despondent, I went straight to the source.
The weapons store.
If I could cut a deal with the storeowner, I might get my hands on some weaponry, and a morsel of Friendship, too. It wouldn’t hurt to be mates with the owner of the only weapons store in Bill’s Yard.
I smelled a business opportunity somewhere in that train of thought, but everything had to go on hold until I was situated.
The store was grimy, and two bulky guards stood just outside. They stared straight forward, no doubt sweltering inside their full plate armour. Polished weapons of all kinds covered the walls, each held by small hooks that cradled the perfectly lacquered handles of spears or the tightly wound hilts of swords. I strode through, lost in the masses.
“How can I help you, young fella?”
A grizzly bear — sorry, an extremely hairy shopkeeper — greeted me. He’d been busy working on a curved blade, possibly a scimitar, but now his sights were set on me.
“I’m looking for a few things, but I’m low on funds. I was wondering if I could pay with, uhhh, favours?”
I knew how that sounded as soon as I said it, but it was too late to back down. If the shopkeeper suggested anything unorthodox, I could always refuse.
“I dunno about favours,” he started, “but we’d happily set you up with a loan. What do you need?”
This gave some serious loan-shark vibes, but I was getting desperate. The point of B&B was to make money, not be in serious debt to a shopkeeper with tufts of chest hair extruding almost to his nose.
“Well, I need a spear, a shield and a javelin. Nothing fancy, just something to get by.”
He pushed his way through a tumble of weaponry in various states of disrepair. Motioning for me to follow, we strode through the crowd of eager shoppers, making our way back to the front of the store. He stopped in front of a wide dotted panel with some ordinary gear hanging from it.
“This is bout as basic as it gets. {Redwood Spear} for one-fifty, {Wooden Shield} for one-twenty, and a {Throwing Javelin} for two hundred. She’s a bit more expensive since it’s class specific. Altogether, you’re looking at four-hundred and seventy krad.”
It was a decent hit. It felt strange to buy a virtual javelin for twenty times the cost of a heart-stopping burger from Stanley’s Diner. Luckily, the gear would make me money rather than send me to the hospital.
“And what’re the loan conditions?” I asked, afraid of his reply.
“They’re normal,” he said. “You owe me double in a month’s time. Nine-forty krad with a transaction fee of sixty, bringing you up to a round thousand. Sound good?”
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
One thousand krad did not sound good. I glanced at a few price tags, checking out what glittering, razor-sharp options I could buy with that kind of cash. The ‘transaction fee’ was extremely suspicious, especially since it perfectly rounded the price up to one thousand.
But I had no other choice.
“Meet you at nine hundred?” I tried.
“One thousand,” he countered.
“One thousand it is.”
We shook hands, and a notification appeared. It showed my dismal krad balance, taunting me.
| -1000 Krad |
Epic. Good to know I was sitting at zero before all this.
I took my new gear off the wall and arranged it as best as I could. The javelin had a patterned sheath with a rope that coiled round my body, and the shield sat loosely on my arm. I could hike it up to my bicep so I still had usage of my left hand.
“You want me to take that old one off your hands?” The shopkeeper asked, gesturing at the two halves of my old spear.
“Gladly. Should work for kindling.”
“I was thinking the same.”
He took the pieces and threw them over the counter into a bucket of other starter weapons. I tucked the new spear under my arm and tried not to slice anyone when I spun round.
“Good luck with those ones. I’ll be here when you’re ready to repay.”
There was no contract, no conditions, nada. I wondered how many folks just up and ran off with their new gear, never to pay him back.
“Oh, and Ollie? If you don’t come back after your thirty days, Raoth and Purg out there will hunt you down and take back what’s mine. Bye now!”
There we go, there’s the incentive.
I glanced at Raoth and Purg on the way out of the store, deciding if I could take them. One growled at me, and my spear fell from my grasp, clattering onto the pavers.
Very manly.
Contacting Claire straight away seemed desperate, so I worked my way through the town, looking for work. I tore myself away from a few odd-jobs that rewarded Friendship and EXP.
I needed krad, and I needed it fast.
At last, I made my way back to Otto’s pub. He’d take mercy on me even if no one else would.
“Ollie!” he called.
“Otto!” I replied.
“You lookin’ ta dive back down to the cellar? There’s some heavy drinking happenin’ here today.”
He wasn’t lying. There was already a patron asleep on the ground in the corner, and two women were dancing on a teetering table.
“I’m afraid not, unless there’s some krad in it for me.”
“Apologies, mate. Boss’d feed me to the hounds if I took money outta the till to pay ya.”
“Isn’t this your pub? Says so on the sign out there.”
Otto looked forlornly out the swinging doors, eyeing off the sign. He leaned close to whisper something, and I could make out the changing pigmentation on his skin.
“She has my namesake, but that’s all. Had a bit of trouble at the bank cos of, you know, octopus stuff, so I had to get a business partner. Boss took on the risk, therefore he gets the profit. I get to work here though, doin’ what I love.”
I wanted to give him a hug over the bar, but I didn’t think it was appropriate. I’d assumed he ran the place and reaped the rewards, but it wasn’t the case. NPC or not, I wanted to march on over to whichever bank denied him a loan and give them a piece of my mind.
“Well, that’s shit. Definitely not one-upping you, but I’m in a thousand krad of debt with no convenient way to pay it off. Any thoughts?”
“Sugar mama?”
“Next.”
“Raids?”
“No one to do them with.”
He paused for a moment, leaning on two tentacles whilst his other six poured tankard after tankard of foaming ale.
“How bout Fetch Quests? They pay a buck or two, especially the dangerous ones.”
“Like a courier?”
“Yeah, but with a death wish, in some cases.”
He wasn’t making it sound inviting. I pulled up a stool and placed my shield over my lap with the spear against the counter. Otto eyed it off disapprovingly, so I laid it down on the ground.
“Okay, well, I can work my way up to a death wish, I guess. Who do I go to for a Fetch Quest?”
“Young Barney, just over there. Rugged bloke, but he’ll give you a fair rate for fair work. Probably a great rate when he’s drunk. ‘E runs a little post office kinda joint, you could say, mostly short-range stuff between counties.”
I cast an eye over where Otto was pointing. It was hard to tell exactly who he meant because his tentacle wavered like it was underwater, but I had a decent idea. At the round table of ancient drinkers, there was only one who could’ve been under forty years old.
“Thanks Otto, I really owe you.”
“Not at all, mate.”
The floorboards creaked as I wandered over. Two large jugs of ale sat in the middle of the table, and the men and women took turns pouring a slosh of liquid into their cups. Before the jug completed its rotation, they would finish their drinks and be ready for another. It was a drinking game, but without much of the ‘game’ part.
“Excuse me, Young Barney? Otto mentioned you might have some work I could help you with.”
The youngest drinker looked at me, then guffawed with such force that ale jetted from his nose.
“Me? Young Barneh? You mush be jyooohkin! I’m Barney Jyuuunior. That there’s your man.”
He pointed half a finger at a frail old bloke who, if the rest of the table was ancient, was positively Paleozoic.
The man’s eyes were bright, and they darted over me, showing none of the usual cloudiness that comes with a visit to the pub.
“Otto sent ya, did ‘e?” His voice was scratchy, like it was an effort to force the wind from his lungs.
“I got a something you ken do. Tis this ‘un.”
He produced a miniscule vial from his back pocket. A purple liquid swirled inside, forming a vortex that spun rapidly despite the calm conditions. I held out my palm, but he waited.
“Tis valuable,” he croaked. “Very. Fifty krad ta get it ta Cambree in one piece. Mm?”
He said it was valuable, but I couldn’t help a bit of scepticism. He’d had it hanging half out of his back pocket at the pub, after all.
“Sounds good. When does it need to be there by?”
“Tomorra morning.”
I almost fell over. I used a command to pull up a map of the region, and Cambree was a small county about twenty miles away.
I was glad I’d saved my Stat points.
“Sure. There’s a road between here and Cambree, right?”
The drinkers all let out a muffled laugh, like they’d assumed it was a joke. They quietened down when they realised I was serious.
“Not exactly,” Barney Junior said. “That’s why Young Barney’s getting you to do it.”
“Phenomenal.”
Young Barney relented, handing me the vial. I slipped it in my right-back pocket, making sure the javelin wouldn’t bump against it.
Quest Accepted!
‘Vile Vial’
Reward(s)
+50 Krad
+100 EXP
I left the pub, feeling content. One day into my loan term and I’d be up fifty krad. Five percent of the way there.
I’d need to boost my stats if I wanted to make it in time, so I opened the Stats screen and divvied up my Stat Points.
Attributable Stat Points: (0)(-3)
Strength (3) (+0)
Defence (2) (+0)
Vitality (1) (+0)
Affinity (0) (+0)
Restoration (0) (+0)
Endurance (4) (+2)
Agility (3) (+1)
I left my Skill Token for a rainy day. I’d check my options later and mull them over whenever I had time.
The extra spring in my step was like someone strapped two chickens to my shoes and threw a bucket of grain down the road. It was just one extra point in Agility, but tied together with the two in Endurance, the change was pleasant.
Watch out Jori, there’s a new kid on the block.
My journey began, a spring in my step and my eyes set on the horizon. According to the map, Cambree was a small collection of houses that sat atop a combination of hills and plateaus to the north. It was about twenty miles as the crow flies, but the elevation change would make the walking distance considerably longer.
You don’t realise how far twenty-something miles is until you walk it. I certainly didn’t. Luckily, I had an interruption about twenty minutes into the journey.
A message from Duri.
[Bro. Joey’s gone mad. Can you go round to Annette’s? I think he made her cry.]
Shit. That wasn’t the kind of interruption I needed, and now was a terrible time for it. I’d barely get any sleep as it was.
Reluctantly, I shot off a reply and prepared to disconnect.
[WTF? Leaving rn]
I disconnected, pulled on my shoes, and ran out the door.