TY’S CONFIDENCE LASTED all of about another twenty steps or so.
Fortunately, though, he didn’t take another hit to his MPs when his uncertainty returned.
As he made his way deeper into the town, Altunn he remembered Savan calling it—the name sounding right, though it had been a good five years since he’d been there in-game—the staring eyes of every passerby boring into his soul made him uncomfortable.
It didn’t take more than a few seconds to understand how different he appeared, how strange he looked even in a game full of make-believe beings.
As he strode down the street, he realized he was looking up at pretty much everyone he passed, except the occasional kid or two, and most of those were even taller than he was.
Ty thought back to the character creation screen of UO, and even the shortest of the height options he remembered topped out at about five-foot-ten, including the females. He was a debatable five-two with his high-tops on, a straight back, and a bit of tiptoe action. Ty also weighed about a buck-ten fully dressed. He was tiny compared to everyone else, and it made him a bit self-conscious.
No wonder they thought I was a thief, he thought, remembering what Amon had said. No one takes a short guy seriously. Ask Napoleon.
But despite everyone staring, Ty couldn’t help but return the gesture.
Even living in an international city like Chicago, he’d never seen as much diversity on display in one place. Split between PCs and NPCs, there were dwarves, elves, gnomes, humans, a pair of abyssins—regal cat folk who looked descended from Siamese—as well as the ferals—the catch-all term for the various were-breeds whose primary form was humanoid, like Amon, apparently—a couple of pixies, and he even spied a half-orc lurking on the porch of an adventurer’s guild, the banner waving overhead telling him it was the rogues’ den. The half-orc’s yellow eyes followed him down the street.
As Ty hurried to break free of the NPC’s lingering gaze, he was startled to spot a draug, a mystical cross between a dark elf and a dragon. He stumbled to a halt, unable to pull his eyes from the majestic being.
He’d only seen a few of them in-game before, and he’d never seen one in real life, of course.
She was tall and lithe, brilliant emerald eyes gleaming in darkened sockets. The tiny scales that made of her flesh caught sunlight, reflecting tiny rainbows that brightened the air as though she were surrounded by brilliant gems. Long, ebony braids hung down her back, her hair gleaming like the softest of silks.
Ty was immediately enraptured by her. His video card had done the race no favors, he realized. She was beyond beautiful.
Clearly just starting out in UO, she wore the basic starter shrift and pants, their billowing ends tucked into worn, black leather boots that rose to mid-calf. Daggers hung in simple sheaths at her sides, and she strode through town with a haughty confidence, the air of one of regal descent.
He was blown away by seeing her. Almost no one played the class these days.
Barring the obvious hurdles of conception—Ty chuckled as he imagined the specifics—it was difficult to fathom why a PC would choose one of them to play in the game.
Though more powerful at the starting levels than every other player race, the draug were an XP drain that never stopped sucking. While the first level was reasonably obtained at 10,000 XP—most other races, regardless of class assignment, meeting that first goal between 2,000 and 3,000—it became exponentially more difficult to level after that.
Draugs fell behind in skills and power quickly compared to everyone else, and it became harder and harder to level and earn new abilities since they were stuck competing in the lower-level quests and XP-farming ranges, unlike the other races who could move on to better locations.
Ty had seen maybe a handful of draugs over the years, and the highest of them had been level 22 (Morrigron, he thought he remembered his name being). He was an absolute beast in battle, testing Ty to the fullest. Of course, Ty had only been level 35 at the time, but that showed the disparity between the two player classes, especially since Ty had been way better equipped.
Caught up in his thoughts, he hadn’t realized the young draug had caught him staring and stopped in the middle of the street.
“What the hell are you staring at?” she growled, her forked tongue flicking out in emphasis.
Ty stiffened and gasped. He raised both hands in surrender and took a step back. “Nothing. My bad.”
“That’s what I thought,” she chuckled darkly, shaking her head. Still laughing, she marched off and left Ty to collect himself.
He glanced down at his crotch and let out a relieved sigh.
Whew! Glad I didn’t wet myself.
After a moment, waiting until the draug was gone from sight, all while awkwardly pretending he wasn’t, Ty forced his feet to move and started down the street again. The half-ogre on the porch offered a sly grin over Ty’s shoulder, rubbing the encounter in.
He’d seen everything.
“Dang it,” Ty muttered, hurrying his pace. It’s like the first day of middle school all over. At least I ain’t got no lunch money to take.
It took Ty about a half-hour to re-familiarize himself with the basic layout of Altunn, it having been so long since he’d been there last. Fortunately, it hadn’t changed all that much in any of the upgrades, but there were still a few places he couldn’t recall.
Back where the Savan’s hut had been, all the class trainers had similar little buildings where they helped players spend their level points. True to the game, the starting trainers were of a generalized nature rather than specialized, only the most basic of classes represented, none of them offering any real specialization. There was the warrior trainer, the priest, an alchemist, rogue, druid, monk, pscionicist, and a ranger trainer. The larger towns catering to higher level characters would have a better selection of alt-classes.
As they were in Altunn, each hut was marked with the sign of their professions on the door and a banner fluttering overhead, which could be seen from a distance to lead players to the trainers.
Down the main road was a bank, which offered up accounts and storage facilities—for a fee—for players to stash excess gear and cash in, all to avoid losing it in the random player-versus-player (PvP) that sometimes happened outside of the protected areas.
Ty chuckled, he’d gained a ton of gear by ambushing assholes players, and he’d lost even more being attacked by them when Ty was AFK, not paying attention and off doing something for his mom or grabbing a snack.
It wasn’t a major part of the game these days, though, most PCs looking to just play and adventure without drama, but there were plenty of folks who got a kick out of shanking dudes for the fun of it.
To temper that a bit, there were specific areas designated for players to fight and kill each other without negative consequences, such as losing their gear or damaging their reputation points, and they even earned a few XP while doing it. The PvP zones made for a good outlet and kept players from clawing at each other’s throats…most of the time.
Defiler and his friends came to mind.
Ty brushed the thought of them away and marched on down the street, still feeling the stares of everyone around him as he surveyed the rest of the town.
Near the bank was a large temple and a bronze statue of the town’s founder, Altunn Ree, an NPC whose history Ty couldn’t remember. The statue made him look like a badass, though.
He caught sight of the draug entering the Shady Orchid, across the street from the Waytan Inn. Ty remembered being foolish enough to stay there one night when he’d first entered the game.
The dang bedbugs were bigger than the beds.
Midnight random encounters sucked! Nothing like battling for your life in only your drawers.
The shop he’d seen earlier but couldn’t identify turned out to not be a shop at all. It was the local constabulary, though it looked more like a house of ill repute or a thieves’ den. Two city guards lazed outside in the shadows, watching the town stroll by from their post on the porch. The guards’ swords leaned against the walls, within easy reach of the two men in their wooden chairs.
They glared at Ty as he walked by, and he subconsciously sped his pace until he was down the street and they’d moved on to glaring at someone else.
That was when a loud gong sounded overhead, as if coming from the clouds, the ringing echoing through the town.
“Oooh!” Ty moaned not two seconds later, a great, grumbling gurgle erupting from his stomach. He clasped his belly as a second rumble rolled through it.
You are hungry!
“Duh,” he laughed, but he knew starvation was no joking matter in the game.
Left unchecked, his stats would begin to take hits, and his skills would suffer, as well as his health points (HP). If he didn’t get something to eat, he would eventually wither away until he died…well, respawned since he was still in a starter town. Regardless, it wouldn’t help to be any weaker than he already was.
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Too bad he didn’t have any money.
The bakery across the street, Sully’s Baked Goods, had a broad window where dozens of different types of sweet breads were on display, stacked in delicious-looking piles. The smell wafting from the open shop door made Ty’s mouth water.
He knew it was all part of the game, a Pavlovian response built-in, UO demanding a player eat three times a day in order to maintain some supposed illusion of reality in-game, but he’d never felt so hungry in his life.
The first thing I’m going to do when I get out of here is petition the dang programmers to change this crap. Starving sucks.
This hadn’t been a problem for Ty at level 50. He’d even written a macro to stuff a portion of rations in his mouth every time the notification came up, just so he wouldn’t have to take time out of the game to eat. All he had to do was hit a hotkey, and he was good for the next eight hours. Got so he didn’t even remember doing it half the time, it had become such a habit.
But of course, AzzKickerofTheGodz420 had an endless supply of money and food so that it wasn’t a problem. Ty, however, had an endless supply of jack.
He’d gotten so used to cruising along in the game that he’d forgotten what it was like to start over from nothing. Even when he’d gone back and played the game with a different character, he had access to AzzKicker’s stash of equipment and money. His new characters never wanted for anything. They were equipped with the best gear for their level.
But that didn’t do Ty any good now.
“What am I supposed to do now?”
Then it hit him.
“That’s right, there are quests all over this little town,” he crowed, as if he’d had some amazing epiphany. “I can go and—”
The thought curled up and died on his tongue, leaving behind a bitter aftertaste. He glanced down at himself again, taking his visage in once more, and sighed.
“Or maybe not.”
He didn’t have so much as starter gear; no padded jerkin or pants, no boots, and not even a dull, rusty blade or a wooden practice sword to fight with. Ty literally had nothing. And he knew from patting his pockets earlier that he didn’t have any coins stashed away to buy anything with either.
“I am so screwed.”
He sniffed the air again, savoring the sweet smell of the bakery’s wares and, before he even realized it, he’d crept up to the shop and leaned against the window, his nose squished against the glass with a squeak. The glass fogged, and he wiped it away to keep the treats in view.
“Daddy loves you,” he whispered to the nearest of the sweet breads.
A few seconds later, he was through the door and inside the shop and what amounted to autopilot. The shop wasn’t crowded, but there were enough customers perusing the shelves that the proprietor, Sully himself, barely glanced up and offered a wave as Ty came into the store, before going back to hustling about, serving another patron.
Ty sighed. While he thought of himself as a good person, he knew dang well what he’d come into the store for.
Maybe I am a thief like Amon said, he grunted in his head, disgusted with himself.
He’d have never contemplated this in real life, would have never even imagined it but, then again, Ty had never been starving in his life. His mom had always taken care of him, no matter what. She worked her butt off to make sure Ty and J had food on the table, and they’d never gone hungry, not once.
But she isn’t here now, is she?
You are hungry!!
Another gnawing gurgle clawed at his guts, and Ty bit back a snarl at its fierceness. He hated that feeling.
Just this once, he convinced himself. It’s only a game, right?
He furtively glanced around, making sure no one was watching him, and his trembling hand crept toward the nearest of the sweets in the window display. Ty’s heart thrummed so loud he was afraid everyone in the shop would hear it, but no one seemed to care. He swallowed hard as his fingers wrapped around the soft bread, and he tugged it toward him, holding his breath.
He’d just about cleared the frame of the window when the pile of treats he’d plucked his would-be prize from toppled over, a dozen fat muffins thumping to the floor in a pastry rain.
You don’t have any proficiency in shoplifting, but due to an unexpected display of beginner’s luck, you managed to bungle your way into something remotely resembling success. You have stolen a muffin, but maybe you should reconsider pursuing a career in thievery.
The collective breath of the customer’s sucked in at once, and Ty glanced over his shoulder to see everyone staring at him. Well, all but Sully, who’s look was probably more defined as a glare. He rose up, eyes gleaming like fires on a distant hilltop.
-2 RP!
Your reputation has taken a hit for your failed attempt at stealing from Sully! Shame on you! Shame!
“Guards!” the baker screamed. He started around the counter with a rolling pin held menacingly in his hand.
That was Ty’s cue to run.
He bolted for the door and skittered out across the porch, his feet slapping the dirt road a moment after that. Several long strides later, he’d started to think he’d gotten away when he heard the gruff shout behind him.
“Stop! Thief!”
A guard kicked up dust behind him, sword drawn and screaming. A knot in his throat, Ty ducked low and sprinted, terror setting his feet alight.
He ducked down a side street, then another, but the guard kept coming, closing on him.
“Stop!”
Ty gasped. He hadn’t run so hard since Willie had chased him down, threatening to break his legs and steal his iPad.
His lungs felt as if her were breathing napalm, and he wheezed, desperately trying to catch his breath. His legs burned.
At this rate, it’d only be another few seconds or so before the guard caught up to him. He’d already lost two reputation points for the theft, but if he were caught, he’d have to spend the night in jail, and he’d lose another five points before they released him back into Altunn in the morning. No one would trade with him then, even if he did find a way to make some money.
He snarled and pushed harder, wondering which way to go when he streaked past the half-orc still standing vigil outside the rogues’ den and an idea came to him.
Ty cast a furtive glance over his head to see if a shining light bulb had appeared. There was nothing there.
Hey, you never know, right?
He chuckled and skidded to a halt, reversing direction, then darted down the alley alongside the rouges’ den. The half-orc raised a bushy eyebrow and watched him fly past, but he didn’t say anything.
“Stop!” the guard cried out once more, but Ty ignored him. He knew where to go now.
Though he’d never played a thief character, Ty had explored the whole of the starter town way back in the day. He might not remember it all that clearly, time having taken its toll on his memory, and updates having altered some of the layout in the intervening years, but he recalled the Shadow Walk. It was a staple in the town.
He raced down the narrow alley and smiled when he spied the first of the crossroads leading into the Shadow Walk, an array of labyrinthine passageways used by the local rogues to avoid the town guards and fellow players. The alleyways shot off in nearly conceivable direction at random intervals, and each narrow corridor looked exactly the same as the last, a thick gloom settling over it to further confuse pursuit.
Huffing, he took a sharp left at the first split, then ran down about twenty feet, then took a right at the second, then another right at the third, running straight for several more before his fiery lungs forced him to stop, memorizing each turn he took so he could find his way out.
Finally, Ty stumbled to a halt and bent over at the waist, hands on his knees, drawing in great gulps of air, yet doing his best to do so quietly. He listened between gasps, projecting his focus back the way he’d come, but there was nothing indicating the guard had followed him into the Walk.
He’d escaped.
You have avoided capture by the constabulary. Good job…I guess.
Ty slumped to his butt at seeing the notification, still huffing, his chest rising like a bellows as another notification hit.
+1 to Fitness!
“Well, ain’t that something?” he muttered as the text glowed in his vision. “Who says crime doesn’t pay?” he laughed, though he couldn’t really find the humor in the situation. All he could imagine was his mom standing over him, hand on hips, giving him that look.
He sighed and let his head loll back and rest against the cold, brick wall of the passageway. Today had been a crappy day, but at least he’d managed to hold onto the muffin he’d stolen from Sully’s.
Ty raised his hand and opened his eyes, salivating at seeing the sweet treat, however mangled, still clutched in his fist. Bits of muffin poked out from between his fingers, but he didn’t care.
He went to take a bite when a darker shadow fell over him. A cold chill followed.
This can’t be good.
“I’ll take that,” a smooth, measured voice told him. “And everything else you’ve got on you, too.”
Ty glanced over his muffin to see a dark, cloaked figured looming before him. There wasn’t much detail to be had, the person’s face hidden in the deep folds of their hood, the person dressed entirely in black and fading into the background.
What was abundantly clear, however, was the glistening sheen of cold hard steel in the figure’s hand.
“Seriously?” Ty complained, glaring at the man robbing him.
It was obviously a player character as the glowing name tag above the figure’s head was a PC shade of blue rather than the green of NPCs, but the thief had used the Mask Identity skill to blur the name so that it couldn’t be read. Gibberish that shifted and morphed appeared in its place.
“Unless you want to be stabbed, I suggest you hand over your things,” the thief warned.
Ty climbed to his feet so the guy could get a better look at him. “Do I look like I have anything work ripping off to you?” he fired back, snarling as he shook his head. “And to be honest, you’re going to have to tear this muffin out of my cold, dead hands if you want it that badly.”
Ty took a huge, sloppy bite out of the muffin before the thief could even react. Two bright pinpoints of eyes gleamed inside the hood as Ty chewed, crumbs flying.
Your hunger has been assuaged!
Ty sighed through a mouthful of muffin and slumped against the wall, clutching to the muffin remnants. It was delicious.
The thief took a half-step back and appraised Ty. He pulled his hood back, revealing a dark-skinned elf with sharp features. His thin, upper lip was peeled back in a WTF sneer, as though he’d only just realized how Ty was dressed.
“What the hell are you wearing, dude?” he asked. “You don’t even have a weapon.”
“I’d like to offer you a cape, Captain Obvious, but as you can tell, I’m all out right now,” Ty fired back, biting his tongue after the fact, wondering why he was antagonizing the guy.
Too much time behind the dang keyboard, he thought.
The thief laughed so hard his Mask Identity skill dropped off, and his name appeared in bright blue: Theolin.
“Looks like you’re having a seriously rough day,” Theolin said.
“You have no idea.” Ty grunted and took another bite of the muffin, his cheeks puffed up like a desperate squirrel. “Hope you weren’t really planning on stealing my muffin still,” he said, licking what remained.
Theolin raised his hands in defeat and grinned. “Not anymore…”
“Good,” Ty replied, stuffing the last of it in his mouth, “because I really wasn’t going to hand it over even if you did stab me.”
“You clearly need it way more than I do,” the thief chuckled. “What happened to all your gear? And how are you wearing RL clothing? I didn’t realize that was an option in the game.”
“It’s a long, confusing story that even I don’t believe,” he answered. “I wouldn’t know where to start.”
“Well, I don’t have time for all that, anyway. You know, people to rob, villages to pillage,” Theolin smiled and reached into cloak, sheathing his dagger. He pulled out something a moment later, clenched in his fist. “Here.”
He held his hand out to Ty. Unsure of what was inside the thief’s closed fist—he pictured a poisonous scorpion, a severed rat’s head (the assassins guild’s calling card), and even one of those joke devices that delivered a short electric shock—but he sure hadn’t expected what Theolin actually handed him.
It was a single gold coin.
“Wait!” Ty sputtered as the thick coin settled into his palm. “Seriously? Why would you…?”
“Because it’s clear someone has already robbed the hell out of you,” Theolin replied, eyes taking in Ty from head to toe. “If things are so bad that you’ll risk getting gutted for a muffin, I’m thinking you could use a little goodness in your life, you know?”
Ty swallowed hard and nodded at the thief’s kindness. “Thanks, man. I owe you.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Theolin told him with a sly wink, backing away, slowly disappearing into the shadows. “Probably be best if you found someplace to lay low for a day or so, too. Tomorrow’s the full moon, and the horde will ride over the town.”
With that, the thief was gone.
Ty looked after him, but the darkness had swallowed him completely, as if he were nothing more than a figment of Ty’s imagination.
But the gold piece was real.
Ty stared at it, feeling its rigid stiffness in his hand. He had a chance at surviving this world now. He had money and, soon, he’d have some basic equipment. It wouldn’t be anything impressive, but something was better than nothing.
He grinned at the coin, still shocked Theolin had given it to him. The guy had thought him so pathetic that, instead of robbing Ty, he’d handed over gold to keep from feeling bad about it.
Ty wondered how that made him feel for a minute, then he shrugged.
“You know, I’m okay with it,” he told himself. “Pity cash still spends.”