by Kit Falbo
“Am I to offer them rewards while they shoot me, or while they throw pitiful magics at me?”
I shrug and give him a lopsided grin. Does charisma even work on a troll? “There will always be some who do those from time to time, but there could be more who wouldn’t do it if you give out quests if they ask and reward them if they succeed. I could help you by spreading the word that you do this. I have ways to spread that news far and wide.”
He doesn’t look convinced. “Or not. And eventually those pla… people, ” I almost slip up and say players “, may grow strong enough to come back to kill you and steal whatever there is in the cavern that you guard. I can pretty much guarantee that will happen unless you give them a reason not to.”
Gar glances toward the opening behind him at the door the dwarves made him guard.
“Do you even know what is in there?” I ask.
“No,” Gar grumbles sullenly.
“Do you want to know?”
“I have been here for hundreds of years standing over that cave. Yes, I want to know.”
I no longer see rage in the troll. Who knows how long it has been since he has talked to anyone. “I can go in there and find out for you. That is, if you let me, instead of killing me.”
“Why would you do that?”
“I’ve only been here for several minutes, and I would like to know too. I can’t imagine hundreds of years of not knowing. Plus, I’m one of those who likes quests.”
“What is to stop me from killing you once you get close enough?” He wiggles his club a little.
“Nothing. But then you wouldn’t get to know what is down that cave. Besides, I’m not afraid of death. It would only be an inconvenience for me. I, like many who now come here, am one of the Touched by the gods. I would be reborn. If you killed me, you would lose my help. I doubt you will get this offer again.”
Gar stares me down. “Come here.” He taps a spot only a few feet in front of himself.
The game is so real. I know that if I go there and he swings at me, I will flinch. Still, it’s a game, and today’s been a waste already. Time for a gamble. I take a breath and step over the gouge he’s pounded in the rock floor and walk slowly to the spot he pointed to. It is hard to maintain a slight smile and eye contact, but I do. “Now what?”
“Show me how you can help me.” A quest notification pops up; with failure I would lose my life. Success I get my life, access to the entrance and maybe other rewards.
I’d have preferred a quest to tell him what was in the dwarves’ room, but at least now I have a chance of getting out alive. How can I help, though? I can tell him about the cave-in, maybe hinting that it could reduce the number of people coming here. But just because I can’t get through it doesn’t mean others can’t find a solution. I’m not even sure if that is what Gar wants.
I look at Gar’s massive club. It may say poorly crafted and decent quality, but the damage and durability are massive. Two slots are open for artificing.
I pull out the large blue gem Cook had found me in the cave-in. It’s raw, lumpy and about the size of my fist. Wiping off some dirt I can see motes of brown floating in the blue. I use my abilities to pull up a description.
Raw gem of crashing sound, empowered.
Now I regret not having my crafting knife. “May I approach your club?”
Gar shrugs his massive shoulders. I press the gem to the weapon just above the worn area where he grips the handle. I slowly cast Meld, and as I’m fitting the raw stone into the club, I channel my charge spell through the stone, once and then twice, leaving me with only a sliver of mana. “Give me a few minutes, and I can do this again.” I check my bag to see what I can put in the second slot. None of the other things I’ve collected are both empowered and large enough for his club.
Around me the walls sparkle, mostly with the ore the enchanters were looking for but also gems. Most would have been just out of reach of the dwarves that used to call this place home. There must be something.
“Here.” My familiar whispers into my mind pointing at a spot behind the troll before fading out into the walls. I see it, a reddish lump, higher than I can reach.
I turn to the troll. “Gar can you please get that gem down.” I point to it.
He reaches up and plucks it from the wall with two fingers, then drops it into my hand. It’s even bigger than the blue one and more a solid crystal than the lump the other one is. It shows as an unfinished scorching gem, empowered. It feels warm in my hands. I repeat what I did with the blue gem, mirroring the setting on the other side of the club. I don’t know if it’s because it’s larger or because it’s unfinished rather than raw, but I have no mana left when I finish. “Look.”
It is now the Scorch and Crash Giant Stone Club. It holds two charges of a wave of sonic damage that can cause disorientation and two charges that give it a flaming aura strike increasing its range. Gar lets out a low rumble. I don’t get a Quest Complete notice, so I wonder if I’m going to be killed soon, but no; he’s chuckling. “Huh, huh, huh, ha.”
“You’ll need to find someone with magic to recharge them if you use the abilities. If I can get other Touched to come to you for quests, you might want to pay them to do that or even make recharging your club a requirement before giving them quests.”
Gar still hasn’t stopped laughing. I continue to make the case that I’m better alive than dead. “You’ll need me alive to spread the word or once you use them or you’ll have a hard time finding help.”
His laughter peters out, though his attention is still riveted to the improved weapon he’s brandishing. The gems, though raw and unfinished, sparkle in my Dark Vision.
“You may go,” he says motioning behind him, “and tell me what you find in the cave I am guarding.”
“If I come running back out, I’m probably being chased by something. I’m not very strong.”
He peers down at me now, making me feel like a curious insect. “You’re strong enough. Go.”
The massive chains attached to the shackles on Gar’s ankles are anchored in the stone walls to either side of the opening behind him. I’m forced to pass through the massive troll’s legs and under his pixelated parts to get to the entrance. I only have to duck my head a little, which makes me realize how huge the troll really is. Once through, I follow a twisting path and a short while in, Cook joins me. He transfers a large amount of ore shards to me. “Scary, master.”
“Not exactly the distraction I planned, but I think I did alright. Can you scout ahead for me?”
Cook nods, looking happier with that than being near the giant troll. This allows my mana to recharge in case I need it.
It doesn’t take long before my familiar is back, “Room, stuff, two doors.”
When it is clear I’m not going to get more than that. I head down the tunnel. The room, as Cook had loosely described, is larger than the cavern that holds Gar. A giant hexagon with five large pillars supports its pyramidal ceiling. Each pillar is carved with intricate designs.
As for the rest of the room, Cook was right. It is just filled with stuff, piles of degrading furniture, books, suits of dwarven armor. Piles ranging from waist high to taller than me. On the far side of the room are two barred doors, large enough for me see them over the piles, but they are the least of my concerns as I wade my way into the room that looks to be packed like a hoarder’s house.
Five minutes in, I know it will take hours to sort the treasure from things that have decayed into trash. I don’t have hours. “Cook, go see if you can find anything interesting in these piles, like metal or gems. Find me if you do, or if you run into trouble.”
“Yes, master.”
I poke around and make mental note of the types of things I find. After a while, I discover a small chest that isn’t locked. Inside is a mix of silver, gold, and gems, a classic treasure chest in all senses of the word. It’s heavy, but I can carry it with both my arms after putting my sword away in my bag. I’ve probably already waste
d enough time.
“Master!” Cook screeches nearly causing me to drop the chest on my foot. “Follow me.” At least he doesn’t seem scared.
I set off lugging the chest with me, knowing that if I set it down, I will have the hardest time finding it again.
Thankfully Cook seems to know where we are going. He leads me to a canvas tarped area with some half-degraded chairs stacked on top. He points, and I sigh, setting the chest down as I get to work uncovering the area.
It’s a smithy. Well, a small one. Just one cooled down furnace and an anvil. Off to the side is a decent sized stack of ingots. There is even a rack of tools. I look at the ingots. Most of them are metals I don’t recognize. Too heavy to carry on their own. I’ll need to use my bag since it eliminates most of the weight.
Fuck Axel for taking my other bag.
After some experimentation, I figure out how to fit four ingots into a single slot. To free up slots, I cut a makeshift bag out of the tarp for my two health potions and the handful of loose gems given to me by Cook. I grab a random sheaf from the dwarves’ ancient stash and strap my sword to my waist.
I’m torn when it comes to the quest items Cook’s been bringing me. What’s better, the forty farren ore shards, a single slot hold will hold or four unknown ingots? I decide to keep one slot-full of ore shards and dump the rest. As I’m shoving ingots into the slots I’ve emptied out, one of the hammers on the tool rack catches my eye. Masterwork Crafting Tool. I maneuver it into the final slot in the bag and know it’s time to go. With my bag full of ingots and the hammer, I take the chest for good measure, deciding I’ll give that to Gar.
I’m sweating by the time I make it back. I’ve also lost Cook, who is probably making his way through the rock to the exit to avoid the troll. “I was beginning to think you died and wouldn’t be back to tell me,” the troll rumbles at me.
I nearly jump at his voice and would have, if I wasn’t weighed down by the chest. “I brought you a present,” I say, panting between breaths.
I set down the chest. He picks it up, which makes it look tiny, and uses his fingertip to open it. “Gold, hardly useful.”
“More things you can reward people with if they come to you for quests. This is just a fraction of what is in the room.”
He stares down at me. “So, it’s just filled with treasure?”
I shake my head. “It’s a room, larger than this one, filled with stuff. Much of it destroyed due to time. Other things are useful, but it’s all been thrown in there, with no order. It would take days to explore. There are also two large barred doors that I stayed away from, not sure if they are barred to keep something out or some other reason.”
He seems disappointed. I’m sure it didn’t match the thousands of speculations he’d had over the hundreds of years he has been trapped here.
“And you don’t want any of this?” he asks?
I reach into my bag and pull out an ingot, “I like to make things. This, I hope will be more valuable than gold to me.” I point to the other exit. “What’s down that way?”
“The restless dead of the dwarves, picking up stones for their flesh, may they never find peace. Your kind, too. They come from there, seeking to hunt whatever riches are in the low world.”
I look at the giant, still wary of him crushing me, and slowly walk that way. I call back to him, “It may take a while to get word out that you can give quests, but I’ll try my best.”
Gar’s knuckles whiten on this newly improved club, and a vicious grin curves on his rocky lips. “I’ll make do.”
I enter the tunnel that will hopefully lead out. I’m not sure about logging out in a dangerous area. Once the cavern is out of sight, I get the Quest Complete notification on Gar’s test. I also gained an achievement.
Friend to monsters. Not everything is simple as it seems, sometimes it is best to help and not hurt. +1 Wisdom, +1 Charisma. While not in a group some monsters will treat you as neutral rather than hostile.
I look at it to gain more info:
Does not affect simple minded creatures or the undead.
I guess it won’t help as we try to make our way past the dead dwarves.
Cook scouts the way whenever we see a fork in the tunnels. We avoid the restless dead when we can. They appear to be mud and rock golems animated with an eerie yellow glow and a shuffling gait.
Fifteen minutes in, I hear voices and crouch in a corner behind some rocks and ask Cook to cast Hide on me. If I don’t move, the spell causes me to blend into the scenery, in this case, the tunnel walls.
The voices get louder, and I start to make out words.
“Come on. We’ve spent enough time on these clods of earth just because they sometimes drop a gem.” I know that voice: Axel Thorn.
The next voice is El Morde’s. “We’ll need to get to the next area in order to get enough shards. According to the forums, there will be a massive troll up ahead. Purely an obstacle. We won’t need to fight him. No one’s been able to do much damage to him anyway. We just have to make him mad with a few magic bolts or a few arrows, then run by after he swings. Everything says we should be able to make it at a sprint.”
Sarah speaks next, sounding resigned. “I don’t like the idea of shooting something just to piss it off. And I still can’t believe you’re not going to let Chess out.”
Axel snorts. “He tried to buy our loyalty sis. No one does that. You keep harping on him. I’d say you had a crush on the noob.” When she doesn’t take the bait, he adds, “He’s probably suicided or logged out by now. Besides, he’s not as nice as you think.”
The gravel on the ground crunches as they pass me. El Morde speaks up again, “Word around is he’s a cheater. Did something to boost his stats and money, so nothing to feel bad about.”
I resist the urge to go out there and hit him across the shins. All risk and no gain, Gar will probably get to try out his club’s new abilities. Even if they make it across, I doubt they’ll have the patience to clear the cave-in.
I’m still unnoticed as they walk by and start to move. Then I see the companion who’s trailing them, his backpack now weighing him down with the bric-a-brac collected from all the mobs. He sees me and gives me a silent tired grin, forbidden from even talking and warning the others even if he wanted too. I grab his hand and pull him closer, I whisper. “Don’t follow them into the cavern with the troll.” Companion’s don’t respawn, so I might as well warn him.
I wait another minute before peeling myself off the wall and heading off in the opposite direction. My ex-teammates have cleared most of the warren that is the mine. With nothing between me and the exit, it is a quick trip to the surface. Outside is the overgrown ruins of a crumbling fort and the slightly worn path leading back out towards Lusania’s capital.
The few encounters I have on the way back involve me and the mobs passing each other, staring but neither of us moving to fight. A group of goblins carrying a rill beast corpse on a stick gives me extra space on the path. I can initiate fights, but now that I’m listed as neutral I don’t have too.
I have forty-five minutes left in my session by the time I make it to the edge of the city. All that walking in the reactive room has my legs feeling like they might give out. Still, I might as well try to complete the quest I came for. The enchanter at the makeshift booth gives me the stink eye as I approach. “I can’t remove your name from the contract. If you can’t complete it, we won’t allow you any more jobs.”
I pull out five farren ore shards, “Actually I’d like to complete the job.” The enchanter’s eyes widen when he sees them.
“Where are your friends? You all agreed that everyone needed to turn in their shards together to complete the job.”
I grit my teeth and try to maintain a smile. The only reason he had added that requirement is because he didn’t respect me. “They’re busy.” I start pulling more ore shards out of my bag , twenty-five to cover the group and finish the quest, and with each one I pull out, the man’s eyes
get wider and wider. ”That should cover it. I would like to collect all the gold as well.” That should cover some of my loss from the deposit I gave the group.
He pulls out two gold and gives me a flat smile. “It’s against our policy to give payment to anyone but the signee.”
I let out a long sigh, “Oh well.” Then I begin shoveling the ore shards I’d pulled out to cover the others back into my bag.
The man panics “Wait, Wait, Wait!”
I believe he is thinking the others might come by later for their gold. “I can make an exception this one time.”
I stop mid-shovel and start returning the ore to the table. “That’s good. After all, we’re all friends.”
He hands me the gold, one coin at a time, “We haven’t had anyone actually complete this job in the past few days. Let alone bring this much in. Was there any secret stash or tricks you used to find this?” His voice drips with a hint of greed. Two gold probably isn’t half what this is worth to them.
I consider telling him about my deal with the troll, but realize the enchanters guild would probably not be the best way to spread info about getting quests from Gar. With the last of the coins collected in my makeshift bag, I smile. “Just good old-fashioned hard work.” I dismiss the Quest Complete notification and make my way into the city. It will be nice to make it to Byron’s smithy before I log out, even if my legs do feel like jelly.
Less than ten minutes to spare and Byron greets me at my return, “Ho, Chess, you have a good day out? Make any friends?”
My first thoughts are of the group, and my missing, well stolen gear, it brings a little sour frown to my face. I pat my little pink bag that’s filled with the exciting new metals and the masterwork hammer. I think of Gar and what I achieved there. “You know, tiring as it was, it actually was a very good day. And I do think I made a friend.”
Byron puts his hand on my shoulder. “Good.”
The Quest Complete notification hits for the quest that made me go out today, and a large amount of experience floats up in gold. Level up!
