《Ever After》
Chapter 1: Logging in. Eventually.
Today was the day. Today. Today. Claire mumbled the word over and over, eventually singing it under her breath ¨C today-day-day-day-day, day-day-day, day-day-day ¨C as she lowered herself cross-legged onto the doormat, staring at the letterbox with the same intensity as she clutched her coffee.
On average, the post arrived at 09:53 on Thursdays, and she¡¯d set an alarm so the precious parcel would stand less than a two sigma chance of lying neglected on the mat and wasting valuable installation time. Ever After promised to be game-ready within 15 minutes, but the odds of a zero-day patch were pretty high. She¡¯d allowed half an hour for the patch, and an hour for character creation ¨C she may not be the biggest slider fiddler around, but it was always important to get them right ¨C and then she¡¯d be in. Living Ever After, as the ads kept saying.
She had the race and class descriptions from the pre-launch wiki almost memorized by now, but she scrolled through them again. Human, elf, dwarf, goblin, dragonkin, forgewrought, surfing the turn-of-the-century retro mania, and completing that with old-style hardwired classes straight out of D&D. All the ads had the classic combinations on: a blue-eyed human paladin in shining armour, a half-seen elven ranger, and a goblin wearing steampunk goggles and wielding a spanner taller than she was.
The forum chatter mostly followed suit, dominated by min-maxers bragging about the best race/class combinations, but after the third page of moebius arguments between Lego1as, Leggolass, l3g0las, and RedPillGalahad, Claire had given up and decided to go with her intuition ¨C with the unprecedented realism of the Ever After simulation engine, the racial innate bonuses probably wouldn¡¯t matter nearly so much as her own ingenuity and enthusiasm. And she had plenty of that, having driven friends wild complaining about the linearity and restrictiveness of the mechanics of even the most sandboxy of games. Besides, she always played either dwarf rangers or halfling wizards, and since Ever After had lost that lawsuit with the Tolkien Estate, halflings were Right Out.
And there it was! The faux-leatherbound package slipped through the letterbox, and Claire opened it with all the care and deliberation of a badger who had been living on nothing but boiled sweets for a week and had just smelled peanut butter. Quickstart guide, SR diadem, USB-T cable, and the terabyte plug-and-play disk with the game itself: yup, all there. Fifteen minutes was long enough for coffee and porridge, some good solid slow-release energy food for the long hours motionless.
The room faded slowly, the diadem cool against her forehead, and Claire found herself floating bodiless in a simple white-walled room. Text scrolled up the wall in ¡°front¡± of her at a frustratingly slow pace.
Supplemental Reality gives you the experience of a thousand lifetimes. Interfacing directly with your senses, SR transports you instantly to whole new worlds. Be anything or anyone you want!
A very small proportion of users may experience nausea, headaches, migraines, or feelings of dysphoria or body dysmorphia. If you experience any of these symptoms, or encounter unusual shades of blue in inappropriate locations, please contact an SR-certified doctor as soon as possible. Inexperienced users are strongly advised to stay with a body plan and proportions close to their own to minimise dyspraxia and feelings of dysphoria.
The usual slew of warnings and disclaimers followed up, and Claire muttered under her nonexistent breath ¨C ¡°Yes, yes, I accept, yes, yes, standard symptoms, like I don¡¯t get those all the time anyway, yes¡± ¨C till the EULA finally heard her, realised it wasn¡¯t wanted, and disappeared in a vaguely embarrassed manner, taking the wall with it. Beyond were a dozen lifelike statues, arranged in pairs ¨C male and female versions of each playable race. She shot forwards, melding into the generic (but cute-looking) female dwarf, entirely ignoring the ornate engraved plaques vying for her attention, and the rest of the room faded from view as dozens of sliders arranged themselves around her.
Ninety minutes, nine hairstyles, five hair colours, and innumerable tweaks to her height, weight, bone structure, ears, and eyebrows later, Claire Ironflight was ready. She¡¯d normally pick a Norse or Anglo-Saxon name, but since this system embodied her so thoroughly, and it was new enough that her own name was available, it seemed like a good idea.
Fitting her skinny six-foot-two consciousness into a short, broad-shouldered, buxom dwarven frame proved a bit of a challenge ¨C everything was further away than it looked, and her centre of gravity lower in proportion. The system offered a virtual gym to get used to the new body ¨C Claire hadn¡¯t expected minigames this early, but fifteen minutes on the monkey bars (the roughened grip felt so real under her hands) and fifteen playing a retro-styled dancing game got her most of the way to instinctive movement.
Luckily, the sturdy grey-and-brown starter outfit apparently included a sports bra ¨C Claire really wasn¡¯t used to jiggling, and even this feeling was as disturbingly and joyfully different as her new voice, a surprisingly American-accented contralto. At least she didn¡¯t have to be Scottish this time!
Taking one final look in the mirror, she assessed her work. Four foot nine in sturdy boots (at last, a game that didn¡¯t start you off in embarrassingly scanty rags!), with an archer¡¯s shoulders and hourglass hips, probably an F-cup bosom, bright blue eyes, and long dark-blonde hair in a pair of French braids. (Dwarf braids? No, that probably means beards here¡) Still a lot like her own face, but much less angular and ridiculously cute. She did a delighted little dance, vaguely wishing she¡¯d thought to video it, and headed for the blocky, ornate archway that had been patiently waiting for her to finish up. ¡°One short step for a girl, one¡ short step for dwarfkind!¡±This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Music swelled, vaguely Celtic harp-and-drum stuff, and her feet crunched on a gravelled path through a forest. Tall dry-stone walls ran along each side in the traditional ¡°nothing interesting here, go THAT way¡± sign, and in the distance a low stone building sheltered under the arching boughs.
¡°Guess that¡¯s where I find a starting quest, then! Here we go, here we go, here we go...¡±
¡°Fair meet, young adventurer!¡± The old dwarf¡¯s voice was equally American, but a granite-rough baritone. ¡°Don¡¯t be seeing too many of you round here ¨C decided against the way of the axe and hammer, did you?¡±
¡°Yep, that¡¯s me! I like being a good long way away from someone who¡¯s trying to kill me. And trees and animals, I like those too.¡±
¡°Sounds like yer in the right place, then, lass. Welcome to the Ranger¡¯s Guild!¡±
A triumphant ripple of harp music sounded around Claire, and a ring of warm golden light raced up from the ground, dissipating above her head. Off to the side of the old dwarf, floating text helpfully informed her that she¡¯d completed a quest - ¡°Join a guild!¡± - and received her first 500 xp.
¡°Thank you! What is there to do here? Do you need any wolves killed, rabbits for the pot?¡±
¡°I like yer enthusiasm, lass, but you¡¯d best get yerself some weapons and a bit of practice first, aye? Come back to me when yer done. I¡¯m Helgrim Farhammer, and you¡¯ll be seeing more of me than you¡¯ll end up wanting ¨C leastwise till you make yer way to the Mountain, anyroad.¡±
¡°I¡¯m Claire Ironflight!¡± She waved as she bounced off towards the archery range, and the glowing golden book hovering over a rack of bows, showing a quest for her.
¡°Arrow in yer face! Take a bow and a quiver of arrows, and practice at the butts till you can hit the bullseye nine times out of ten. REWARD: yew longbow, endless quiver, 500 xp, title: Archer.¡±
¡°Hee, butts! Right, let¡¯s see what this baby can do...¡± As she pulled a longbow from the rack, gold sparkles highlighted the notches at either end, and a waxed paper packed containing a coiled bowstring. ¡°I¡¯ve never had to string it myself before, this is awesome. Now, I think I have to - ¡± she broke off as she lost her balance, longbow between her legs and body sprawled in an undignified heap on the cobbles.
¡°Nobody saw that, right? I am a mistress of grace and dexterity.¡± This time, she managed to keep her balance, bending and stringing the bow. The sparkles swirled and coalesced on the nock of an arrow and the middle of the bowstring, and as she nocked the arrow a silvery targeting reticule appeared. Shifting her aim to the shield-shaped target, the reticule changed to gold, and her arrow flew smoothly to stick in the painted bullseye. Fascinated, she nocked another arrow and moved around, letting the reticule float over different targets and ranges, and noticing how it adjusted for her inclination as well as aim ¨C no more flat trajectories!
Drawing the bow was a bit more difficult than the IRL archery she¡¯d done, mostly because of the extra encumbrances attached to her chest, but she would be damned if anyone would make her emulate the Amazon style! Nine arrows later, the quest dinged, and a triumphant drumroll sounded. Level 2!
New skill gained! Sharpshot (passive): your arrows fly truer than most archers¡¯, and strike harder.
New skill gained! Longshot (active): infuse mana into your arrow for extra range and damage.
A quest notification popped up alongside: Longshot! Land a bullseye on the long-range butt. A helpful trail of sparkles led Claire¡¯s eye to the long-range target perched in a tree, easily three hundred yards away. This one¡ wasn¡¯t shield-shaped. It looked, in fact, like an ogre, bending over and mooning her.
¡°Right, arrow in yer butt it is...¡± she nocked an arrow, wondering how to infuse mana, and then noticing that a bluish-purple cloud gathered around her shoulders and upper arms. She imagined it flowing down into the arrow, and grinned in delight when it obeyed, packing the mana into the arrow¡¯s form till it glowed throughout its length. Lift the bow¡ watch for the golden reticule¡ and release! The arrow soared, fast and hard, and angled down to give the wooden ogre a fine feathered tail, and the quest dinged. 200 xp, nice!
¡°Hm, where¡¯s my xp bar¡?¡± As Claire asked herself that, an iridescent bubble floated up to hang in front of her, and popped to reveal a status screen. Health, mana, xp¡ another 1800 xp for Level 3, shouldn¡¯t be too hard at all. And that Longshot had taken about 40% of her mana, so getting two of those off before her target got to her shouldn¡¯t be a problem.
¡°Inventory!¡± A second iridescent bubble floated out of her belt pouch, and expanded to a 5x5 grid of slots, all empty. Experimentally, she prodded the longbow she still held at the top left corner slot, and the sensation of it vanishing from her grip was really disconcerting, but a tiny longbow and quiver appeared in the grid. Dismissing the inventory screen, she turned back to Helgrim, who now had a golden book floating above his head.
¡°Rabbits for the pot, was it? Well, we¡¯ll never say no to rabbit stew, so if you happen to pick up a few on your way to deal with our warg problem, we¡¯d be delighted.¡± Helgrim¡¯s moustache twitched in subtle amusement.
¡°...warg problem? Tell me about the warg problem.¡±
¡°Huge evil things, like wolves would be if they¡¯d been created by humans not the Wildfather. Slavering jaws, red eyes, spend all their time fighting each other for dominance ¨C when they¡¯re not menacing travellers and driving away the forest creatures. Thin out the pack a bit, and see if you can work out why they¡¯ve come here.¡±
Wargs in the Greenwood: Kill wargs (0/10). Find out why the wargs have come to the Greenwood. Reward: 500 xp, cloak of the warg-slayer.
¡°I will! I just need to go and, er ¨C I¡¯ll be right back.¡±
Chapter 2: First Hunt
Claire swung her legs off the bed and moved gingerly bathroom-wards, tablet on hand and SR diadem still perched on her head.
¡°Right, things to look up¡ wargs, the Wildfather, where the fulminating Friday the Greenwood is, why there¡¯s nobody else around...¡±
It turned out the Greenwood was the dwarf ranger starter area, and it definitely wasn¡¯t instanced, so she must just be unlucky. Presumably there would be a vector quest soon to send her to the Mountain, or to a local hub on her way there, and she¡¯d get to meet others and share some quests. Wargs were exactly what Helgrim had said, and the Wildfather was one of the dwarven gods, who came along after the Shaper and made all the green things and the furry things and the things that went ¡°squawk¡±. Nobody had added in Helgrim Farhammer¡¯s name, or the Longshot quest for dwarves (elf rangers apparently got a quest to shoot a particular leaf from an elm tree on a distant hill¡ pretentious poncy knife-ears that they are) so Claire made the edit over coffee and lunch. A set of squats and stretches later (got to prepare for adventuring, after all) and she lay back down with the Diadem of Adventure.
The ¡°loading screen¡± room this time was a stereotypically dwarven tavern, with infectiously bouncy folk music and a strong smell of mead, dark beer, and fried onions. Someone thrust a tankard into her hands, and she took a reflexive sip before wondering belatedly whether eating and drinking here would actually work¡ it did, and the beer was delicious. Claire shut her eyes for a moment to concentrate on the flavour, and when she opened them she was back at the Greenwood rangers¡¯ lodge. Another swig, and she handed the tankard to Helgrim in passing before striding off into the forest to the north ¨C hang on, how do I know that¡¯s north? It¡¯s overcast, daytime¡ must be a UI thing, less intrusive than a minimap.
She was enjoying the feel of her stompy dwarf-make boots on the hard-packed earth of the forest path, but it wasn¡¯t going to attract any wargs, let alone rabbits, so she tried to move more quietly. Fluid controlled steps, roll the foot down¡
New skill gained! Stealth (passive, toggle): Normal animals and intelligent beings won¡¯t sense you coming. Monsters with Keen Senses might depending on level. Can be toggled between off/normal/high; high will reduce movement speed and chance of detection.
It turned out jubilant cheers weren¡¯t very helpful for stealth, either, but the sounds of the forest returned after another minute or so¡¯s stealth.
A prickling sensation on her left forearm accompanied an image of a slavering black wolf. Aha, more intuitive UI, excellent! I can¡¯t see it, so let¡¯s be cautious around this bend¡ and if wargs don¡¯t have Keen Senses I¡¯m a goblin¡¯s granddaughter. Reaching into her inventory grid to pull out her bow & quiver still felt a bit unnatural, but it was still worth it not to be carrying around a five-foot stick all the time.
Creeping around the bend with an arrow nocked, she found herself fifty feet away from a warg ¨C downwind, thankfully. In theory. It smelt strongly of wet dog, if it was wet with EVIL. To complete the image, a dead rabbit dangled from its jaws. Oh, well, two for the price of one¡
The targeting reticule settled behind its foreleg, and turned gold. She released immediately, and pulled another arrow from the quiver, settling it into place on her string as the first slammed home. No blood, but a pulse of red light showed a wound (a gore setting on by default, maybe?) and the warg faltered. The second arrow hit, and the red light nearly covered the warg¡¯s fur as it charged.
Claire¡¯s pulse drummed in her ears, and she nearly fumbled the third arrow, but the golden reticule filled the wide jaws as the warg lunged for her face, and she loosed by reflex as she stumbled backwards. Sharp white fangs closed on the feathered nock, and the impact shoved the warg ¨C the corpse, now, thank goodness (thank the Wildfather?) back onto its haunches and down to the path.
You have slain your first monster! You have gained 50 xp. Achievement unlocked: Warg¡¯s Bane (1/100 wargs slain). Quest progress (Wargs in the Greenwood) 1/10 wargs slain. Rabbits collected 1/4.
The corpse deliquesced into sparkles, leaving behind a folded warg fur, a couple of wicked-looking teeth, and a small pile of coins.
¡°Ooh, loot, my favourite part¡ pre-tanned fur, thank the Shaper, I hate mucking around with dog poo. And money, lovely money, I don¡¯t need to take spleens and skulls and silly things to the vendors!¡± As she touched the faintly shimmering pile, it dissolved into sparkles and her inventory popped up, open to a new tab, Crafting materials. Warg fangs (2), warg fur (6) ¨C oh, that must be in square feet, that¡¯s useful. And it keeps them separate from normal inventory.
¡°Right, so it takes somewhere between two and three arrows to bring a warg down. Let¡¯s see if I can longshot one...¡±
It turns out that yes, she could, after finding a suitable clearing and setting up in an ambush spot. One Longshot took off about 75% of a warg¡¯s health, and the followup arrow dealt with the rest handily. Sniping wargs was easy, but Claire had a low tolerance for grinding at the best of times, and ¡°sitting in the middle of an unexplored forest¡± was definitely not the best of times. Half an hour, and three more wargs (and a bunny rabbit, and a wild boar which died to a single Longshot and dropped a pork kebab) later she lost patience and set off, kebab in hand, north into what she cheerfully assumed were the uncharted depths of the Greenwood.
After another half hour¡¯s wandering (her friends had often commented that getting Claire to stick to anything for more than half an hour was impossible) she concluded that the uncharted depths of the Greenwood were green. And woody. And did not contain enough wargs. What they did contain was a lot of tiny white flowers, which were apparently called your herbalism skill is insufficient to identify this plant. And a lovely burbling rocky river, with reeds and freshwater crabs ¨C of course Claire took off her sturdy dwarf boots and dipped her sturdy dwarf feet in the river, because who wouldn¡¯t? It felt lovely, right up till the moment where a crab attacked her toes.Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.
-5 hp!
¡°Ow! Dammit, you little shelly pinchy thing, come back here and just you wait till I find some butter and dill...¡±
New skill gained! Throwing weapons (active, combat): deal a small amount of damage to a target, depending on the weapon.
The rock missed, not that she was trying that hard, but the skill notification that popped up surprised her. Picking up another smooth grey river stone, she cocked her wrist and a targeting circle appeared ¨C a large one, a metre or so across ¨C where she was looking.
A bit of experimentation showed that the rock was guaranteed to land somewhere within the circle, but the circle got bigger the further away the target was, and the less effort and care she put in.
¡°Man, I feel like a hob-bit!¡± Claire sang, collecting a dozen or so stones and stuffing them into her inventory. ¡°What has it got in its pocketses? Rockses, precious, lots and lots of rockses!¡±
It took three tries winging stones at rabbits before one finally connected,
Quest progress (Wargs in the Greenwood) 4/10 wargs slain. Rabbits collected 3/4.
¡°Dammit, Ironflight, focus! You¡¯re here for wargs, not rocks and rivers and¡ oh, I am here for rabbits too, aren¡¯t I. Right, yes. Wargs.¡±
She engaged stealth mode, toggling it to high to see what it felt like ¨C it turned out that what it felt like was creeping around at half her normal pace. The sensation of having the system slow down all her movements was a bit disconcerting, like the lag she¡¯d experienced when Kevin had built a 2003-style MMO and invited her to play that one time. It did let her sneak up on a warg, though, and kebabbing it with an arrow at literal point-blank range was ridiculously funny. What was less funny was the way it turned around, 99% covered in blood-red light, and closed its jaws on her thigh.
-50 hp! ¡°Ow! Dammit, you half-arsed excuse for a fleabitten mange-ridden son of a mouldy chihuahua, that HURT!¡± It really did, much worse than the crab pinch had (well, as you¡¯d expect really) and her leg buckled under her. She grabbed at the warg for support, and somehow managed to pull it down on top of her in a panicking, flailing mess of limbs, fur, and blonde plaits. In the struggle, its throat ended up in her face, and she couldn¡¯t help herself ¨C she bit down. Hard.
¡°Gcchk, urrrgh, euch! That was horrible! What kind of twisted ¨C oh, that bit is cool though. Hm.¡±
You have gained 50 xp and a new epithet. You will now be known as Claire Wolfbiter. (+25% damage vs wolves and lupine monsters.)
Quest progress (Wargs in the Greenwood) 5/10 wargs slain. Rabbits collected 3/4.
¡°Bring it on, wargs! I am gonna BITE you!¡±
What she actually did was longshot them, and standing over the corpse of the tenth, sparkles outlined a scar on its flank and a popup appeared.
This wolf lost a battle for dominance against something far larger. This might explain why they moved to the Greenwood. Follow their tracks back through the forest and find out what happened.
Wise in the ways of the UI by now, Claire looked around for sparkling patches on the ground, and found some ¨C a footprint here, a bent twig there, a clump of coarse black fur caught on a thorn. Tracking proved to be a really fun minigame, and after a few minutes she noticed she was managing it without the aid of any sparkles at all.
New skill gained! Tracking (active): follow a creature through wild terrain.
The trail ended at a disused quarry, and Claire reflexively checked for alien spaceships. Nothing doing, but there was a large, dark, ominous-looking cave, of exactly the kind that probably contained a warg boss. To complete the picture, piles of deer corpses (and a cow, and what looked like a dire badger) lay scattered and rent about the quarry.
¡°Engaging stealth mode...¡± She picked her way slowly and carefully down to the quarry floor, staying downwind of the cave entrance. Slipping inside, she pressed herself flat against one wall and waited for her eyes to adjust, scowling at the scent of EVIL WET DOG that drifted out of its depths.
Either dwarves had naturally good night vision, or the game used some sort of invisible bioluminescent fungus, because the cave was about as bright as twilight, and Claire could clearly see the passageway leading down. Her forearms prickled a little, but that was only the equivalent of a red dot right at the edge of the minimap, so not too much of a problem. She eased forwards carefully, coming to a sort of balcony over a large chamber. The wooden railings had mostly crumbled and fallen, but a switchbacking staircase remained, down to a mostly flat floor with a large pool of water at one end. At the other was what looked at first like a large heap of coal, but which was actually a huge pile of black fur which vibrated gently as it snored.
Right. Now, I could get off two or three longshots before it got up here, and the first should be an auto-crit since it¡¯s asleep¡ but if it¡¯s that much tougher than the other wargs, those won¡¯t be enough to kill it, and I¡¯m not tough enough to stand more than a couple of bites. Why didn¡¯t I ask, er, Grimface for a close combat weapon as well as the bow? I wonder whether I can use some of this wood for a warg trap¡ I am NOT dying during the tutorial quest, dammit. Focus, Wolfbiter, you can do this.
Claire peered at the top of the staircase, still in high stealth, with an eye to anything she could pull off to make a hole, or pile up for a chevaux-de-frise. In the end, she resorted to leaning a couple of the old railings across the stairs and lashing them in place with a strip of warg hide, and wedging warg fangs into gaps in the planking for improvised caltrops. That should slow it down enough for an extra longshot¡ and if I can manage to roll this rock over here, I can kick it down the stairs as another obstacle¡
She took a deep breath and stretched her spine, drawing back her bowstring and starting to channel some mana. Here goes...
Chapter 3: Boss battle, and what comes after
Chapter 3: Boss battle, and what comes after
Claire¡¯s arrow plunged deep into the alpha warg¡¯s flank. It sprang up and began casting about for enemies, fearful jaws closing hard on empty air before its burning red eyes fixed on her and it leaped for the stairs. Her second longshot caught it still in the air, and it recoiled ¨C scarlet light covering almost a third of its fur now ¨C but that was almost the last of her mana. Barely a trickle went into her next arrow, but now she could loft them as quick as her hands could move, and each took the warg¡¯s health down another ten percent or so.
The huge clawed paws landed together on the midpoint landing¡ which was the one Claire had salted with her improvised caltrops. She¡¯d never heard a warg scream in baffled fury before ¨C it was worse than the time she stubbed her toe on a ceramic astromech droid and stumbled backwards into lego. There wasn¡¯t any lego available in this cave, but it did fall rather comedically off the staircase, giving Claire time for a few more arrows before it gathered itself with a loud snarl.
Very loud, in fact ¨C the deep grinding, tearing sound reverberated through the cave, and a pebble landed on Claire¡¯s shoulder from the ceiling. A debuff icon with a pair of jaws popped into view, matching the fearful shivering in her muscles, and the arrow intended for its open mouth crashed into the cave wall instead. ¡°Teach me to be fancy¡ just stick it with the pointy end, Wolfbiter.¡±
The alpha warg had less than a tenth of its health left, coat almost entirely hidden beneath swirling red light, but none of her arrows were hitting, and it cleared her improvised barricade with ease. The next few moments were a blur of pain and terror and foul-smelling fur, red light clouding over her eyes, but eventually the pain¡ stopped getting worse, at least, and the scrabbling and snarling stopped.
¡°Owwwww¡.. am I dead? Was I a good girl? - no, wait, it still hurts, so I can¡¯t be dead. Status?¡±
You have slain your first boss monster! You have gained 500 xp. Quest progress (Wargs in the Greenwood) 10/10 wargs slain. Rabbits collected 4/4. You have discovered and slain the Alpha Warg. Bonus criterion met: slay the Alpha Warg by yourself. Reward: 500 xp and enhanced loot drop.
You have reached Level 3!
New skill gained: Pinning shot (active, combat): Use an arrow to pin an enemy to any hard surface. Root lasts for level+3 seconds.
New skill gained: Explosive arrow (active, combat): This arrow explodes on impact, dealing additional fire damage and potentially destroying objects.
¡°Now I could really have used those five minutes ago¡ hm. Maybe I wasn¡¯t supposed to tackle him on my own. Oh, well, it¡¯s over now, and I can skin this angry bathroom carpet for a cloak¡ maybe a bedspread.¡±
The red mist dissipated as her hitpoints crept up, and she belatedly realised she had a deathgrip on one of her own arrows, embedded in the corpse¡¯s side.
Achievement unlocked! Safe Distance: kill a boss monster using only ranged weapons. Smart and cautious, or a dirty coward? You decide.
¡°...well, I suppose technically I killed it with arrows. Wouldn¡¯t call this safe, though...¡± It was an odd sensation seeing the red light receding from her limbs, leaving neatly mended rips in her clothes behind. She let go of the arrow and the alpha warg¡¯s corpse dissolved into sparkles, leaving behind a large pile of fur, a stack of coins (ooh, actual gold!), and a knife in a brown leather scabbard. Touching them gave a popup window:Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!
You have acquired some magical equipment. These will bind to you on equip ¨C you will be unable to sell or trade them.
Cloak of the Warg-Slayer: +25% damage vs wolves and lupine monsters, 25% reduction in damage taken from wolves and lupine monsters.
Skinner¡¯s knife: Increases the amount of usable fur or leather from a monster. +50% damage vs beasts.
Do you wish to equip these?
¡°Yes! Loot, loot, lovely loot!¡± The knife and cloak sparkled and faded, reforming at her belt and on her shoulders. She could definitely feel the cloak there, and it swirled the way heavy fur would, but it wasn¡¯t nearly as cumbersome as it looked. ¡°Oh, for a mirror ¨C wait, the pond!¡±
The pond reflected surprisingly well for a large puddle in a dimly lit cave, but she still recoiled in shock as it showed her reflection with a skull for a head ¨C until she realised it was actually a complete skeleton, under the water, positioned exactly wrongly. Now, is that just scenery, or random loot, or is there some plot there¡ maybe the ¡°enhanced loot¡± it promised me¡ She reached in (checking for cave crabs first, this time) and started groping around for ¨C well, for anything that wasn¡¯t rocks or bones. It turned out that there was precisely one object that fit that criterion, and it was a chest with a metal handle¡ which was wedged firmly between the rocks, and Claire¡¯s excited yanking succeeded only in toppling her headfirst into the pond.
With an annoyed and woeful splutter of complaint, she waded out of the water and started to wring her hair dry. ¡°No sooner do I get this new cloak, but it gets wet. I¡¯ll never get rid of the smell of wet dog now...¡± A puzzled expression crossed her face, and she reached up to remove a large frog from her head. ¡°Where did you come from? I could have sworn ¨C no, never mind. You¡¯re a narrative imperative. Back you go, little froggy.¡±
A much more careful heave managed to extract the chest from the water. ¡°Whaaat¡¯s in the box¡ wonderful things!¡±
What was in the box turned out to be a crown. An ornate dwarven-looking crown, made from a silvery, slightly bluish metal, ornamented with battlements and moonstone gems. Since it¡¯s physically impossible to hold a crown without trying it on, Claire lifted it on high, adopted a noble and resolute expression, and slowly lowered it onto her brow¡
Racial requirements met. Gender and bloodline requirements not met. Cannot equip this item.
¡°Useless piece of tin-plated outdated aristocratic sexist nonsense! I hope you roll into the gutter and fall down a drain!¡± The crown went back in its box, the lid slammed down forcefully, and the whole thing stuffed into her inventory, there to be probably completely forgotten about.
Except¡
A Mysterious Crown: Find the matching pieces of the Royal Regalia. Discover who its last wearer was and what happened to them. Find a suitable heir to wear it. Reward: 200,000 xp, noble title, other bonuses.
¡°Republican principles, what republican principles? Lost princes here we come!¡±
She squelched cheerfully out of the cave, whistling a merry tune. Or at least whistling in a merry mood. Even her dearest friends would have hesitated to describe it as a tune.
¡°Dammit, gotten turned around. Let¡¯s see if I can find the river again...¡± She didn¡¯t manage to find the river, but she did find a field of wildflowers, a dead tree covered in roses, a stone circle surrounding a spring, three leftover wargs (who found their eventual destination to be thirty square feet of warg hide and a half-dozen fangs), a sounder of wild boar which she carefully left alone, and a magnificent oak tree with a craggy bearded face in the trunk. It was snoring, so she immediately engaged high stealth and tiptoed away. If I wake him up, he¡¯s either going to attack me or give me a complicated fetch quest, and I am SO not in the mood for either of those¡ aha, a path! Left or right¡ when in doubt, turn right.
The path eventually debouched into a large open glade, at one side of which was a sturdy turf-roofed wooden hut. Smoke curled from its chimney, climbing plants grew around the door, and a thriving vegetable patch sat nearby, while a red-haired dwarf woman was energetically breaking ground for another, wielding an iron hoe twice her height, probably stolen from some agricultural deity who was currently scratching his head and wondering how he¡¯s going to get that mountain levelled now. She straightened up when she saw Claire approaching, and leaned on the hoe.
Claire waved cheerfully. ¡°Hello! Did you know you have a goat on your roof?¡±
Chapter 4: It Came With The House
¡°It just turned up when I built the house. At least it doesn¡¯t eat my runner beans. Hi, I¡¯m Maddy, nice to see someone rolled a dwarf ranger finally.¡± A nameplate faded into sight above her head as she spoke: F1 Madeleine Ogresbane. When Claire had read it, it faded out unobtrusively.
¡°I¡¯m Claire, and I did not expect to see someone with a smallholding here! How did you manage that?¡±
Maddy squinted at Claire¡¯s nameplate. ¡°Wolfbiter, huh? I was in the beta, and this was part of my severance package. They gave us a choice between keeping some of the test characters¡¯ levels, getting a foundation stone, or a scaling weapon. Figured I wanted to try out the simple life for a while.¡±
¡°It was just the ONE wolf!¡±
¡°That sounds like a story worth hearing. Lemme show you around, and you can tell me all about it ¨C I see you got the alpha warg already, nice going.¡±
¡°Yep, I almost died. Took about seventeen hundred arrows and a pile of teeth.¡±
¡°You know you¡¯re not supposed to take him on on your own? The quest should have told you to go back to Helgrim for advice, then he and some friends take a group of newbie rangers to deal with him. Practice in teamwork and so on.¡±
¡°Oops! Oh, well, I did it. Got a special prize, too, but it isn¡¯t much use to me.¡± She pulled out the box and casually waved the crown at Maddy, who blinked.
¡°I have never seen that before, and I certainly don¡¯t remember any lost dwarf kingdoms in the lore. There¡¯s a guy in Tralldon ¨C wait, they just call it ¡°the Mountain¡± now, don¡¯t they ¨C take it to show him when you get there. Ormun the Illuminator, over by the jewellery quarter and the guy who blings up armour. Buys and sells minor magic shit.¡±
¡°Thank you! The silly sexist piece of tacky ironmongery wants me to find another seventeen billion pieces of the set, then find a dwarf boy to give them all to, but there¡¯s apparently lots of xp in it for me. Are you going there again, or are you retired to the farm for good?¡±
¡°For now at least ¨C might start adventuring again once things have settled down and they work out all the startup bugs. Here, lemme show you around! This place is so cool. Most people who took the foundation stones went for castles or wizard¡¯s towers, but I saw the ¡°farmstead¡± option and had to try it. Monsters can¡¯t come past the boundary line unless someone trains them in - ¡®spose that¡¯s the ¡®hot pursuit¡¯ rule for you ¨C and stuff I plant grows extra-quick. I got a pile of seeds, and there¡¯s a travelling merchant who shows up every week or so to sell more, and buys my produce.¡±
Maddy opened the farmhouse door and gestured Claire in with a grand wave. It was almost ridiculously homely in there, with even a rocking chair and a copper kettle over the fire in the hearth, a Dwarf-styled Aga oven, and a complicated mess of copper tubing attached to a large barrel.
¡°You don¡¯t have a cat! You should have a cat.¡±
¡°I know! I¡¯ve submitted a bug report. They issue me with a goat that does nothing but stand on the roof and eat my house, and No Cat. It¡¯s ridiculous. At least I have beer ¨C fancy a pint?¡±
It was very good beer indeed, and Claire happily helped Maddy refill the barrel afterwards, gathering an armful of barley from the garden and pouring the grains into a copper hopper. Copper hopper¡ dropper¡ topper! Hee.
¡°And then it works by game magic, and half an hour later there¡¯s more beer! So, are you off to the Mountain now?¡±
¡°I have no idea! I haven¡¯t turned these quests in to Helgrim yet, so I don¡¯t know what he¡¯ll send me off for next. I¡¯ve done rabbits and wolves, so I figure it¡¯s either goblins next or I have to learn herbalism or blacksmithing or basketweaving or something.¡±
It turned out that the next set of missions involved herbalism and goblins both.
-5 hp!
¡°Owwww! That hurt!¡± Claire complained.
¡°It¡¯s supposed to, dear,¡± Zreksin explained, slipping her wooden spoon back into her apron pocket. ¡°That way you have an incentive to do it right next time. Now, stir it one full turn clockwise, and then three-quarters of a turn back the other way, five times.¡±
¡°I did, though!¡±
¡°No, dearie, you did seven-eights of a turn the second time. If you drank this, it would remove warts and turn you primrose yellow, and nobody wants that, do they, hm?¡±
The tiny white flowers, it turned out, were maiden¡¯s alwis, and a paste made from them was the main ingredient in a basic healing potion, once stirred into strawberry juice. I suppose it has to be red somehow¡ do mana potions use gooseberry juice, maybe? Or watermelon?
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
-5 hp!
¡°Too slow! Stir it at the same speed you would groom a dire badger, not the way you stir soup!¡±
-5 hp!
¡°Too fast! The badger will bite you and you¡¯ll be sorry!¡±
-5 hp!
¡°That was just right, but you mustn¡¯t leave the spoon in afterwards. Take it out and lick it!¡±
+5 hp!
¡°Ooh, it tastes of strawberries and springtime, that¡¯s lovely!¡±
¡°It should be, young dwarf! I spent fifty-seven years perfecting that recipe, and it took forty-two of them to stop it tasting of rotting acorns!¡±
Claire made a face, and carefully decanted her basic healing potion into a half-dozen tiny vials.
¡°Here, young potionist. I bestow on you your recipe book.¡± The goblin-sized notebook was bound in what looked disconcertingly like mushroom skin, and as Claire touched it a notification window bubbled up.
New skill gained: Apprentice potion brewing (active, craft): Create a variety of potions. Consult your recipe book for more details.
You have obtained a Potion Recipe Book! Using this, you may create potions quickly or in larger batches. It contains the following recipes: basic healing potion.
Visit an alchemist to learn more potion recipes.
¡°And here is a masterpiece of gnomish craft for you: the Potionist¡¯s Companion!¡±
The Potionist¡¯s Companion was a compact leather hip pouch which unfolded to reveal loops for a dozen vials, two holders for larger jars, a multitude of small pouches for ingredients, a slot for her recipe book, and ¨C of course ¨C a wooden spoon of her very own!
¡°Oh, it¡¯s perfect! Thank you so much!¡± Claire was genuinely overjoyed, even if she still felt weirded out by the name ¡°potionist¡±. She was, after all, the kind of person who would spend a week researching the perfect desk set, and another week arranging and rearranging all her favourite coloured pens and craft knives in it. Her handbag was organised into a dozen compartments, each with exactly the correct thing in it, and her bullet journals were a marvel of calligraphy, washi, and indexing techniques. Her bedroom floor, on the other hand, was¡ somewhere under there. There was a strictly enforced line dividing clean clothes from dirty ones, but beyond that, chaos and anarchy and darkness reigned supreme. So her fingers were already twitching thinking about how she¡¯d organise her potions and ingredients, and how she¡¯d decorate her recipe book. Mushroom brown was so not her style.
¡°Are there any other recipes you can teach me? Like a mana potion, or invisibility, or barkskin, or fire breathing, or water breathing, or gaseous form, or ¨C well, anything?¡± Claire looked hopefully at the elderly goblin woman where she perched on her tall work stool.
¡°I would be able to teach you a mana potion recipe, IF I had any cider. But my cousin Zkliskin¡¯s orchard has been full of rot wasps since autumn, so there aren¡¯t any apples, and his cider press broke when my other cousin Zserkin tried to use it to press rocks in. The others, well, you¡¯d need to be much more skilled before you can learn any of those.¡±
Saving the Orchard: Kill rot wasps (0/350), prune apple trees (0/10), repair the cider press. Reward: cider, mana potion recipe, 1000 xp.
¡°Well, I suppose that¡¯s my cue¡ wait, pressing rocks?¡±
¡°They were really pretty rocks, and Zserkin¡¯s never been the sharpest hammer in the toolbox.¡±
¡°I¡¯ll see you later!¡± Claire waved happily, and logged out.
¡°Oooofffff!¡± Claire hobbled painfully in the direction of coffee, sensation slowly returning to her limbs after so long motionless. ¡°Note to self: shorter sessions. Definitely going to do that. No more forgetting. Narrator voice: she was definitely going to forget.¡±
¡°Right, coffee shop time, or I¡¯ll go crazy and start talking to myself. Instead of to the imaginary people I¡¯ve been talking to all day.¡±
Preflight: hair brushed and braided, check. Blended eyeshadow and coffee-glitter lipstick, check. Pretty dress and earrings, check. Bloody uncomfortable balconette bra, check. Tights and heels and rucksack covered in badges, check. The things we go through for coffee we don¡¯t have to make ourself¡ and fresh air and sunlight and social acceptability¡
Walking felt weird for a while. It wasn¡¯t just the heels, though they were quite a change from the stompy dwarf boots ¨C even the length of her limbs felt wrong now, and she felt¡ stretched and insubstantial. Normally, her six-foot-two frame felt lithe and responsive, but now it was as though she might topple over.
¡°Hypersize macadamia mochaccino, please. And a slice of parsnip cake.¡±
¡°Sure thing! That¡¯ll be ¡ê27.70 please. Have a nice day!!¡±
Corner armchair by the window, jacket slung over the seat opposite, tablet open to the Ever After wiki, Claire set to editing and soaking up some of the sheer not-being-stuck-inside-ness. Oh, froggit, I should have taken a screenshot of the quest details. What was her name, Zerkin, Zexins, something like that¡ I¡¯ll put Zexin and edit it later. I wonder if everyone learns potionizationing from goblins? Nah, elves probably wave herbs around under the crescent moon or something. And forgewrought probably just grease their joints. Or each others¡¯. That must be something to see.
She¡¯d always been one to read ahead with skills and spells and especially equipment, but nobody had levelled a ranger above 10 yet, so there wasn¡¯t much information there. A couple of close-combat skills (including dual-wielding, inevitably) would turn up when she hit level 5, but other than that it was all trick shots (double shot, piercing arrow, curved shot) and a couple of passives to make her arrows fly faster and hit harder. Based on the source material, pet skills and poisoned arrows would probably show up soonish.
Potions were a bit more fruitful, because someone had apparently been pumping one of the master alchemists for details. Invisibility potions were very high level, and so was gaseous form. Nobody had even heard of a fire breathing potion, but the old staples of barkskin and water breathing were novice level, one step above apprentice.
Annoyingly, whoever uploaded that (@bestboi3876, in fact) hadn¡¯t asked about paints or dyes, which had always been Claire¡¯s favourite craft things. They might not be potions, but she figured there was enough overlap to be worth asking ...Zekskin?¡ about later, or one of her extended family would know how to make them.
Someone had already uploaded a page on rot wasps, but it wasn¡¯t encouraging. They were about ten times the size of normal wasps, but that¡¯s still a very small target for an arrow, and her explosive arrows needed to hit something to blow up. Three hundred and fifty of them were going to take a long time. Ain¡¯t nobody got time for that. Let¡¯s see what we can do¡
Claire looked mournfully at the last drops of her coffee, and with one final optimistic slurp started home. I can get in a few more hours before bed, right?
Chapter 5: A Plan With No Drawbacks
-15 hp! No, wait, that¡¯s not right, this feels more like a debuff than a wound. You have acquired the condition: You fell asleep on the sofa like a complete idiot, you idiot. Your neck will hurt all day and you will feel like death till you get some coffee. That¡¯s more like it.
Coffee and walking around her flat managed to clear her brain enough to realise she¡¯d entirely forgotten about the crown in her research last night, not to mention forgetting to ask Helgrim or Zwhatever about it.
¡°Oh, well, random high-level quest triggers aren¡¯t going to be documented anywhere yet, especially super generic sounding ones like this. What¡¯s a Royal Regalia consist of, anyway...¡±
Apparently, a Royal Regalia was a tautology which could mean anything from a necklace and a sceptre to a blunt sword, an orb, a cloak, a tiny vial of oil, a ring, a seal, a fly-whisk, a mirror, a wren, a scone, and an entire orchestra.
¡°So I need to feed scones to the orchestra, and possibly the seal and the wren, while keeping the flies off them. Riiiiight. Can¡¯t we just have a council instead?¡±
¡°...what on earth are you on about?¡±
By dint of long long practice, Claire didn¡¯t spill any of her coffee, but Jazz giggled anyway.
¡°I flew in late last night, and didn¡¯t want to risk waking you. Is this more slashfic, or some weird dwarf thing?¡±
¡°Some weird dwarf thing. I found the Lost Crown of Somewhere yesterday. How was your flight? Do we have to sue anyone?¡±
¡°Nah, it was OK¡ usual nonsense that comes of Flying While Muslim, you know how it goes. How¡¯s my girl? Been stuck in your new game all weekend?¡±
¡°Yep ¨C made it out for coffee, though! And I ate a vegetable. Do I get a kiss?¡±
¡°That definitely deserves a kiss! Come here...¡±
¡°Mmmmm. Missed you.¡±
¡°Missed you too. You¡¯d better not spend the evenings gaming too...¡±
¡°Nope, just while you¡¯re at work, promise!¡±
¡°It¡¯s an amazing game, though. I admit, I tried it out when I got in, since there¡¯s no way I¡¯d¡¯ve slept after all that.¡±
¡°ONE! OF! US!¡± Claire gave her girlfriend a big smooch on the lips. ¡°What¡¯d you create? A sexy elf rogue?¡±
¡°Hey, don¡¯t get your hopes up! I¡¯m a forgewrought paladin of Thrakar, god of justice. A huge clanking implacable engine of retribution.¡±
¡°Also sexy! Bet you don¡¯t have to hit people in the butt and hunt rabbits, either.¡±A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
¡°No, I KICK butt and hunt petty thieves.¡±
¡°You¡ you¡¯ve turned traitor on us. Have you forgotten your roots? ACAB!¡±
The argument descended into giggling, and a tickle fight, and what with one thing and another, Claire ended up not logging in till after lunch.
This time, the loading screen was a dark, cramped forge, and Claire found herself working on an iron bar, hammer & tongs moving with a dreamlike surety. Heat, hammer, heat, hammer, over and again¡ quench and temper, grind and polish, and she found herself standing at the gate to the hunting lodge, a simple but serviceable hunting knife in her hand.
It took a few tries to convince the game engine that she wanted dry wood from the trees, but between her and the interface, they managed it eventually. Getting fat from boars, rather than kebabs, was a bit trickier ¨C in the end it needed pinning shot and some very careful pinching, then a coup de grace with her skinning knife and some very intense concentration on the concept of lard and suet. So, an hour or so of lumberjilling and pig murdering later, she found herself creeping up on a what¡¯s it called? Not a flock, definitely not a herd, being able to herd these things would make it much easier¡ a swarm? No, not horrible-sounding enough¡ a stabberation! of rot wasps, each one nearly a foot long, with a six-inch sting like a Gothically fluted stiletto. And creeping up on them from upwind, at that. Her stealth seemed to be holding, but that might be because the wasps were ¨C not to put too fine a point on it ¨C absolutely completely and utterly pissed on rotten apples, buzzing and wobbling drunkenly between the trees.
Here should be about right¡ Claire started pulling dry branches and boar fat out of her inventory, building them into a huge pile in between frequent pauses to stealth and avoid patrolling wasps, though she was pretty sure the hammer-and-anvil noise of her heart every time a drunken wasp nearly fell out of the air onto her gave her away.
Slowly and gingerly fumbling in her hip pouch, she pulled out a thick handful of leaves. This was the result of a bit more of this afternoon¡¯s research ¨C well, to be precise, it was the result of asking Helgrim Farhammer which local plants she shouldn¡¯t put on her campfire under any circumstances.
¡°And they call this one grey stinkweed for a reason, lass. It smells pretty bad now, but if a single stalk of it got into yer campfire, ye¡¯d best pray ye were sitting upwind, lest ye had to throw away all yer clothes. As it is, the stew would be ruined fersure.¡±
Seventeen stalks might be overkill, but that would be less than a twentieth of a stalk per drunken rot wasp. They were clearly less than a twentieth of her weight, or they wouldn¡¯t be able to fly, but the whole stabberation still took up an alarming amount of airspace ¨C and wasps had extra-keen senses anyway, didn¡¯t they? So this was definitely a plan with no drawbacks.
Claire wormed her way back upwind slowly, till she was about a hundred feet away from the pile of dead branches, lard, and lethal stench leaves where it sat under the eaves of the orchard, and stood up. Brushing herself down, she readied her bow and nocked an arrow. Breathe out, focus on the targeting reticule, lay it gently across the firewood¡ and explosive arrow!
The pile went up in a greasy-looking grey-green whooooosh, and implausible amounts of smoke roiled out through the orchard, accompanied by an irregular series of soft thuds as rot wasp after rot wasp dropped to the ground, and a cloud of xp notifications obscuring Claire¡¯s vision. The quest counter kept ticking up, until it finally stabilised at 302/350 rot wasps slain, and she pulled out her bow. With a series of longshots, wasp after wasp fell dead, and the counter hit 338.
Without thinking, Claire moved forwards to bring the last group of rot wasps into range, and fell to her knees, retching helplessly.
¡°Shaper, Stoker, and Nug-Herder, that ¨C is ¨C vile! This was ¨C definitely a ¨C plan with no draw ¨C uuurrghhhhhh...¡±
Darkness descended, and she found herself choking and coughing on her bedroom floor, badly in need of cleaning spray, new linens, and a lot of airing out.
¡°I am definitely submitting a bug report for that. ¡®This stuff smells so bad it made me vomit so hard IRL it crashed the game. Also, people could die choking like this. Strongly recommend fixing.¡¯¡±
She went to shove a load in the washing machine and fix herself more coffee. Right, if I wait an hour or two, then most of the smell should have dissipated, and I can stalk the remaining mini-stabberation of rot wasps at my leisure. Maybe get a cool bandanna mask. Yep, definitely I should do that.
Chapter 6: Thy Lord and God hath need of thee
Claire, as will surprise nobody, did not do that. Instead, she slurped the last of her coffee as the circlet hit her forehead, and found herself in a herb garden, picking mint and night-blooming alwis under a waxing moon. As the garden faded and the orchard bloomed, she caught a whiff of the remaining stench ¨C something like the day before they changed the deep-litter bedding in the dire badger stables, combined with the ineffable scent of ogres who¡¯d been living on cabbage soup and raw adventurer for the last few decades ¨C and crushed the mint under her nose.
Saving the Orchard: Kill rot wasps (338/350), prune apple trees (0/10), repair the cider press. Reward: cider, mana potion recipe, 1000 xp.
You have earned a new title: Wasp¡¯s Bane! +25% damage vs wasps, hornets, and vespertilians.
You have reached Level 4!
New skill gained: Knife ¡®em (active, combat): Shank your opponent somewhere vulnerable with a knife.
New skill gained: Sharp wit (active, all): Either through clever hiding places, or improvisation, you can always lay your hands on another knife.
New skill gained: Double shot (active, combat): Fire two arrows at the same target at once, doing 80% damage with each.
¡°Right, twelve rot wasps to go, then I can start pruning trees¡ if they¡¯re still safe. Might end up making rot cider. Oh, well, can¡¯t make rot omelettes...¡±
Twelve longshots and change later, Claire heard a slow clapping sound from behind her, and what sounded like an approving woof, before someone reached in front of her and pulled the quest progress notification out of the air.
¡°You show promise. Ain¡¯t been a few centuries since I found one like you, and I might just have a job for you.¡±
One undignified jump and turn later, and Claire found herself facing a wiry dwarf man with sly eyes, a mass of cheerful-looking wrinkles, and a short tufted white beard. Mostly, though, she noticed the dog ¨C patched brown and white, with one inside-out ear, more or less the platonic ideal of Terrier distilled into one bright-eyed wire-haired package.
¡°What a good dog you have! What¡¯s his name?¡±
¡°I just call him Dog. ¡®Spect he¡¯s got another name among dogs, but I never did get around to learning dog. He¡¯s friendly, ¡®less you¡¯re a rat, and I¡¯d know if you were, wouldn¡¯t I?¡±
Dog was an enthusiastic licker and play-fighter of hands, and loved being scratched behind the ears.
¡°Most folks start wondering who I am by now, I gotta say.¡±
¡°Well, you appeared out of nowhere after a mighty victory, you can interact with the UI, you¡¯ve got a magic dog ¨C I¡¯m figuring you¡¯re someone pretty special, and you¡¯d say if you wanted me to know. Dog¡¯s clearly the important part, anyway!¡±
¡°Well, he certainly thinks so. Anyway, I¡¯m the Scratcher. I know you lot are distressingly short on your theology, so: god of vermin and pests and all the things that creep in the dark, and how to get rid of ''em. I need an assistant ratcatcher, and I think you might just be up to the job. So, here¡¯s a quest for you.¡±The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
The god¡¯s hand lifted, tossing an iridescent bubble at her, which popped to reveal the familiar quest notification message.
Ratcatcher, Ratcatcher: Find as many different ways of killing rats as you can, and sacrifice the tails to your Lord and God. Reward: unique prestige class, 1000 xp.
¡°Sorry ¡®bout the wording there. The thingy always wants to refer to us like that. What it actually means is that you jus¡¯ put the tails on an altar ¨C here¡¯s the schematic ¨C and it counts them up.¡±
¡°Will do, boss! I¡¯ll get right on that.¡±
¡°That¡¯s m¡¯girl. Oh, yeah ¨C check out that scarecrow over there. That¡¯s your loot drop for the wasps, that is. Honest. Would I lie to you?¡±
Claire turned to look, and immediately looked back to try and catch her Lord and God in the act of disappearing. No such luck, but a happy invisible woof stayed with her while she went to investigate.
The scarecrow turned out to be wearing an old black cloak decorated with embroidered battlements and a moonstone clasp. Claire briefly wondered how the scarecrow met the gender and bloodline requirements, before stuffing the cloak unceremoniously into the chest with the crown.
A Mysterious Crown: Find the matching pieces of the Royal Regalia (1/5 pieces found). Discover who its last wearer was and what happened to them. Find a suitable heir to wear it. Reward: 200,000 xp, noble title, other bonuses.
The trees were clearly very overgrown, but some of the branch junctions sparkled with golden light.
¡°Knife!¡± Claire demanded, and the universe dutifully provided one. Her hand made a complicated motion all on its own, and a small but sharp knife slid out of her sleeve, ready to use. She giggled, tossed it over her shoulder, and did it over again, three or four times. Each time something different happened ¨C knives came from her boot top, her belt buckle, and the end of one of her plaits ¨C and the fourth was a flake struck from a flint that ¡°just happened¡± to be lying at her feet.
Flint proved surprisingly durable at cutting branches, and the quest counter ticked up nicely. ¡°Now, where¡¯s that rock press...¡±
She spotted a small shed at the side of the orchard, built in the same ramshackle dry-stone vernacular as the other goblin buildings she¡¯d seen so far. It proved, indeed, to contain a broken cider press ¨C the screw had jammed, and the cross-handle had sheared off completely. Zserkin must have been putting a lot of force into it, but then anyone stupid enough to try and press rocks for his collection was clearly too stupid to know when to stop pulling.
¡°Right, so we need oil and a handle. If I had some olives, I could press olives to get oil, if I had a working press...¡±
She set about ransacking the shed, eventually finding a tin labelled ¡°GOBLIN OIL 9-in-1 miracle formula ¨C it eases, penetrates, lubricates, dissolves, and much much more! Caution: do not apply to glass, ceramic, lacquered or painted surfaces, or organic material. Wear suitable personal protective equipment when applying GOBLIN OIL 9-in-1 miracle formula. Manufacturers will not be held responsible for any side effects including but not limited to migraines, rashes, premature baldness, haematoma, diarrhoea, unexpected growths, or death.¡±
¡°I¡¯m a bit worried about that ¡®much much more¡¯, but here goes...¡± The oil was a bright pink colour, and effervesced alarmingly, but it seemed to free up the screw. ¡°Oops, I should have put a handle on first so I could test it! Oh, well, there¡¯s lots of branches around now...¡±
Fortunately, the system hadn¡¯t reabsorbed all the cut apple branches yet, so Claire was able to get a decent four-foot length and shave it down to fit through the eye at the top of the press screw.
Saving the Orchard: Killed rot wasps (350/350), pruned apple trees (10/10), repaired the cider press. Tell Zreksin the good news! Reward: cider, mana potion recipe, 1000 xp.
Mana potion had a cider base, but it also needed thornberries, which were gooseberries that tasted faintly of lemon.
¡°Now, if you¡¯re really in a hurry, you can just eat the berries, but you¡¯d better have a big supply of nice soft leaves handy, eh?¡±
Claire beamed and licked her wooden spoon clean, slipping it back into its neat little loop on her belt pouch. ¡°Thank you for teaching me! Do you know anything about making paint or ink or dye?¡±
¡°My cousin Zfurlik is the colourman ¨C he lives out to the northwest, though, near on fifty miles away. I know he uses a lot of linseed oil, and rocks and dirt and feeding odd things to cows, but nobody ever lets him explain how it works, not after the incident at Great-Aunt Zrallik¡¯s 127th. There was chocolate and horseradish pudding everywhere for weeks, and little Zkelliy still can¡¯t see a beetroot without crying, the poor wee thing.¡±
Claire waved happily. ¡°I¡¯ll see you again soon! Time for me to hit the library ¨C oh, wait, do you know anyone who¡¯s having problems with rats at the moment? I need to collect the tails, you see...¡±
Interlude: Jazz 1
Drip. Drip. Drip. It was a cold and soggy night, and was even dark despite the smoky pitch-soaked torches lining Camberdyne¡¯s alleyways. Down those dark alleyways a man, if he¡¯s sensible, must not walk. He will, instead, either stride confidently, and hope to the Gods he has the blades to back it up, or skulk and melt into the shadows. Hoping, probably, for someone to come striding confidently without watching his back, or his purse. Greasy Jonny was very much the second kind of man, and he had become very good at skulking in the week since he¡¯d first logged into Ever After.
Unfortunately for Greasy Jonny, the person striding confidently down that particular dark alleyway was a Paladin of Thrakar, and she wasn¡¯t carrying a purse.
Jazzvir the Implacable paced slowly down the dark alley, enjoying the slow metallic drumbeat of her footsteps, and focused briefly on what she¡¯d taken to calling her copsense. A petty criminal was¡ that way¡ and, if he was anything like the last seven, would somehow not hear an eight-foot-tall ton of iron and carnelian completely fail to sneak up on him.
¡°Jonathon William Carmichael, also known as ¡®Greasy Jonny¡¯, you are under arrest!¡± she rumbled loudly, and now the ratty little guy jumped ¨C literally shot three feet straight up in the air ¨C and her arm shot out with a whirring of pistons and a brief hiss of steam from her elbow. Dangling the crook from her outstretched arm, she recited from the charge sheet the UI had helpfully popped up next to him.
¡°You have been convicted by the court of Queensright under the authority of Her Emerald Majesty in Session of three counts of petty theft, two counts of breaking and entering, one count of minor theft, seventeen counts of evading arrest, twenty-seven counts of fleeing an officer of the Law in the performance of his, her, or their duties, and three counts of harbouring an illegal gnome. Furthermore, you are suspected of nineteen counts of petty theft, seven counts of minor theft, and offending the eyes of a Magistrate of the court of Queensright. You have the right to remain silent, and are cordially invited to do so.¡±The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
¡°Hey, you can¡¯t do that!¡± Jonny objected. ¡°I do not consent to PVP! Put me down!¡±
¡°...you¡¯re a player too? Sorry, mate, I still gotta take you in now, or I¡¯ll fail this class quest. Is this even PVP, though? I mean, it¡¯s more R. v P. at this point.¡±
¡°...what? It just says ¡®Jazzvir the Implacable [player] applied the effect Arrested to you¡¯.¡±
¡°Huh. Must be a quest thing. Anyway, you¡¯re off to the cells, and presumably it¡¯ll give you an opportunity to escape. Or fall down the stairs. One or the other.¡±
¡°I¡¯ll just¡ dangle then I suppose. Hey, that thing about gnomes? They¡¯re good people really. Don¡¯t s¡¯pose you can go over after your shift ends and help ¡®em get out of the city?¡±
¡°...it¡¯s less than a week into my career, and you want me to aid and abet you in illegal gnome smuggling? They could have my badge for this.¡±
¡°But what a quest line that would be! Anyway, c¡¯mon, it¡¯ll be fun. And they¡¯re good people. You should try the gnome ale ¨C wait, can you even drink in that weird armour?¡±
¡°Hey, this isn¡¯t armour! What you¡¯re looking at is pure unadulterated stark naked awesome unlike you weird meat people with your plant fibre stuff to keep you warm.¡±
¡°Naked at work? You should at least get a hat. Anyway, I¡¯m going to have to fall down the stairs to the cells for your class quest, you can go and do a teensy-weensy favourette for some friends of mine. What¡¯s been happening to them is a terrible injustice, after all...¡± Greasy Jonny fluttered his eyes hopefully at her, and a quest window popped up.
New quest! Toads and Butterflies: Help the Underharrow family get out of Camberdyne before the police find them. The other police. Reward: XP, gnome faction, Thieves¡¯ Guild faction, the potential (but unlikely) loss of a promising career.
¡°Fine! Just¡ stop DOING THAT and I¡¯ll do almost anything.¡±
Chapter 7: the Mystery Murder Machine
THUMP! went the huge hammer, SPROING went the mechanism, SQUISH went the rat¡ and the quest counter failed to tick up, sitting stubbornly at 87/N unique methods of rat murder.
¡°Oh, bah! I s¡¯pose squishing rats with a huge hammer on a spring-loaded arm is the same as using the hammer myself. Never mind, I¡¯ll just have to try something else...¡± Claire rooted around in the cellar depths for a while, shoving crates, barrels, and some crates full of barrels out of the way, until she triumphantly withdrew a stuffed pangolin.
¡°Ha, I knew I¡¯d seen this somewhere!¡± She carefully attached it by the snout to her lovingly crafted Mystery Murder Machine, wound it up, and waited for one of the dozens of large rats wandering aimlessly across the floor of the tavern cellar to amble underneath it.
THUMP! SPROING! SQUISH! 88/N¡ ¡°Bored now. Back later.¡±
¡°So there, are you after having got your ten rat tails for me now, lassie?¡± asked the bartender, in the same incredibly grating Irish-American voice as he had the last nine times, with the exact same intonation.
¡°Now and why wouldn¡¯t I be after having your Scratcher-blessed rat tailses for you on this fine afternoon so it is and so it is, laddie? It¡¯s not like you have any more of an algorithmical usefulness than quests and beer, is it?¡± Claire dropped a sad little pile on the polished bar, where they vanished into somewhere she devoutly hoped wasn¡¯t the kitchen. Still plenty for the Scratcher, even after paying the toll for going down into the cellar.
¡°Bless you, lassie, and here¡¯s yer silver so it is. And here¡¯s a pint on the house!¡± The bartender set ten silver coins neatly in a little puddle of beer on the bar (the same stack, the same puddle¡) and drew Claire a tankard of dark beer, with a foaming white head magically topped off in one pull.
Claire shoved it down the bar to the Village Drunk snoozing blearily in the corner, having learned from bitter experience (¡°ha ha...¡±) that it was a bland and cardboardy Murphy¡¯s knockoff. The pub, and the whole village around it, had clearly been designed by a team who were sullenly resentful that they¡¯d been assigned to dwarves instead of hobbits, and by Peter Jackson¡¯s beard they were going to make the most hobbity Dwarf village they could. Helgrim Farhammer had warned her that the Longharrow folk were Mighty Odd, and you couldn¡¯t get a decent pint or a decent pair of boots for love nor money, but she had not been prepared for the village buskers and their constant tinkly fiddle music.
¡°Aha, she emerges! Bearing a bounty of rodent remains, I trust?¡±
¡°Hey, Dafydd! You bet! Eighty-eight rat tails for the glory of the Scratcher. Did you manage to get that spell working?¡±
¡°Yes! Check this out,¡± the wizard beamed. He tipped back his traditional pointy hat ¨C you know, the kind that makes the wearer resemble an animated blue mushroom with glittering moons and stars on, just in case any passing mundanes fail to be suitably impressed by the majesty and awe of wizardry, especially when manifested in the form of a three-foot gnome with a ginger goatee ¨C and gestured grandly with his gnarled oak staff as a tracery of blue fire burned the shape of an archway into the air before him¡ approximately six inches in height.
¡°Behold!¡± Dafydd grasped the tiny doorknob and somehow opened the air, revealing a tiny cupboard. He reached into it, and pulled out¡ a tiny stone.
¡°Ooh, that¡¯s a good rock. Is it magic?¡±The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
¡°What? - oh, the rock. No, you can have it if you like. I put that in there earlier to test it out. I know it¡¯s not very big, but it¡¯s the first spell in a series that ends with the Best Spell Ever.¡±
¡°...how does a cupboard cantrip get you to Fireball?¡±
¡°...what? You heathen! Firstly, the Best Spell Ever is Mordenkainen¡¯s Magnificent Mansion, and secondly, Fireball is overrated especially when you¡¯re adventuring in the middle of a bloody forest.¡±
¡°...okay, I can see that. But on the other hand, setting lots of people on fire at once is awesome.¡±
¡°DPS is your job, I¡¯m a support and utility class! Look, let¡¯s go farm some skrikks, I can show you the other spell I got.¡±
The dwarf ranger and the gnome wizard set forth into the forest, following the faint traces of skrikk hair (easily distinguishable from giant rat hair by the simple fact that giant rats don¡¯t grow that large, and woolly giant rats don¡¯t come this far south) and the significantly less faint odour of skrikk fewmets.
Claire felt a prickling in her forearms, and faded into stealth to scout ahead. Sadly, Dafydd had anticipated her slipping behind him before reappearing, and completely failed to jump in surprise.
¡°Right, there¡¯s a group of five, shall we give it a go? All fighter-types as far as I can tell, so they¡¯ll probably just scream and leap.¡±
¡°Let¡¯s! Pull when you¡¯re ready, and I¡¯ll get the new spell going.¡±
Claire stepped out into the path, already charging her longshot, and loosed an arrow to take one of the rat-men-things square in the chest. It flew backwards with a comedic squawk, red light spreading from the point of impact to cover most of its body, and the other four turned to run towards her, emitting a high-pitched rattling screaming hiss. She pulled another arrow from her quiver and loosed ¨C pinning shot! - and a second skrikk faceplanted inelegantly with an arrow through his left rear paw, but that left three bounding towards them, tails lashing and long yellowed teeth looking really quite ridiculously large and sharp.
Beside her, Dafydd¡¯s chanting rose to a sharp phrase in Gnomish, and he switched to Common, bringing his staff down horizontally in both hands to bar the path. ¡°...and bring forth the marvellous barricade!¡±
With a sound like cloth tearing, the air above the path ripped horizontally, and dozens of household objects fell out, pots and pans and kitchen chairs and an old battered dressing-table complete with two mirror panels out of three. Two of the skrikk were slow enough to slam nose-first into the assortment of furniture, but the third was faster, and a pot fell on his head with a loud and resonant clang¡ just as an arrow spiked into his chest and a bolt of swirling blue-and-gold light followed it. Red light consumed his body and died away.
Ratcatcher, Ratcatcher: Find as many different ways of killing rats as you can (89), and sacrifice the tails to your Lord and God (0/89).
¡°...huh. Guess these are rat enough to matter, and death by magic, arrows, and magic kitchen implements is a new one...¡±
The last two skrikk fell to more arrows, more mage-bolts from Dafydd¡¯s staff, and to a nasty-looking knife from Claire¡¯s boot hilt-deep in one eye.
You have reached Level 5!
New skill gained: Dual Wield (passive, all): You can now use a melee weapon in each hand.
New skill gained: Vicious Slash (active, combat): Make an extra-damaging slashing attack with a knife or a sword. This has a chance to reduce an opponent¡¯s attack ability.
New skill gained: Brutal Chop (active, combat): Make an extra-damaging melee attack with an axe. This has a chance to reduce an opponent¡¯s mobility.
New skill gained: Bone Breaker (active, combat): Make an extra-damaging melee attack with a hammer, mace, or club. This has a chance to deprive the opponent of the use of an arm or leg.
¡°Aw, yiss! Level 5 and more spells! ...maybe less random ones this time. Last time I used the barricade spell it summoned a fence of thorns. I need to go see Marimmar back in Longharrow for those. Did you get anything nice?¡±
¡°I can dual wield now! Do you know where I can get me a pair of sweet scimitars?¡±