by Paul Kite
“Are you blind? You old moron!” Ignoring the quiet excuses of the old man, Solnar grabbed him by the chest and lifted him into the air. The old man’s clothes, which clearly weren’t new, tore at the seams conspicuously. “I wish I could kill you, but I don’t want to deal with the guards!” The player spat contemptuously. “You get to live for now!” Throwing the old man aside, he kicked the cart angrily, turned it over, looked around for loot and then jogged away.
"Where do such fools even come from?" I approached the old man, stunned by such behavior, and helped him to his feet.
"Thank you, sir," he said, and tears immediately appeared in his eyes.
“Yeah,” I muttered, clenching my fists for an instant.
If this had been reality, I would’ve interfered at once, as I always had enough strength. But here and now—this is a game and my interference would not have changed anything, or could have even sent me to the point of rebirth.
I continued helping the old man. Together, we put the cart on its wheels again and fixed the luggage, just a pair of bags.
“Let me help you,” I offered sincerely, looking at the old man take the handle with his shivering hands and plant his crooked feet onto the ground.
‘And quests... well, those can wait a bit. How would you behave in this situation? Would you really turn away and pass by, pretending not to have noticed anything at all? As if saying, it is just how life is. Moreover, it is a game and everyone is inanimate here—a set of programmed code. Well, yes, I agree, it’s a game. But AIs are not completely inanimate, biocrystals and NPCs, controlled by them, behave quite like people. They love and quarrel, make friends and enemies. They are like us, only in another world, the world created by people.’
So, I took the handle of the cart, not listening to the old man's objections, and only asked what direction to drag it in.
“Eh, you needn’t do that, sir,” the old man again kept repeating himself, although he smiled and was glad to get help.
I moved slowly, although I had enough strength to go faster, as I was trying not to overtake the old man, walking beside me and telling his story. And the story was quite an interesting one.
It turned out that I had met (who could imagine!) a bankrupt jeweler. About a year ago, this respected and successful man had turned into a beggar, collecting scraps, rags and sleeping God knows where. And the guilty party for his ruin was the local clan of players! However, it had also been the fault of the old man himself. As I understand it, the master jeweler took a risk— he took on the clan leader’s order to make very elaborate jewelry, but did not finish the work in time. According to the nuances of the contract (and the clan lawyer was no fool), he had to pay considerable money in recompense for the work not getting done in time. And the leader had no intention to delay things. The complaint was immediately sent to the Guild of Jewelers and the prince, the ruler of the city. The relationship between the clan and the prince was at the level of Respect. The amount paid up was equal to the cost of the order itself. The master sold everything he had managed to create, and his workshop, and only then was the contract closed. After all, it had also been necessary to pay for the forfeit to the employees. After such a fiasco, the old man’s reputation was ruined. He sometimes got small orders, though at the lowest prices, no one was going to give him big orders due to his reputation with the clan. The master began to drink his grief away, quarreled with his family, and soon he renounced everything, and even left his home. It could not even be called home: just two rooms in one of the common houses on the street, belonging to the Guild of Jewelers.
Of course, I did not ask how his wife and children were doing without him. After all, it was his personal decision and responsibility.
So, we slowly came to the outskirts of the city, to the poor and beggar's quarters. There were half-ruined houses, dirty streets, and dark gateways. It was an abode of thieves, murderers, and other very different kinds of outlawed people. I hoped we would not be killed passing by here.
“We’re going there,” the old man pointed to one of the aisles between the houses.
Okay. We turned the corner and approached an inconspicuous iron door. The old man knocked a couple of times, calling for someone named Eran—apparently the owner of this house.
Ten minutes later, the door opened with a creak, and on the threshold appeared a short, dressed in all black, one-eyed man of indeterminate age.
“It’s just you, Grandpa,” he was not surprised at all. “Today, I’m the only on duty. Come in quickly.” The man took a step forward and to the side. “Not you!” He blocked the passage and his hand roughly pressed against my chest when I went to follow the old man. “I don’t know who you are, noble, and will not let you into my house!” The man grimaced through his teeth and peered at me angrily.
‘First, they called me sir, now they call me a noble. What did the game’s random system choose for me when it created the character?’
“Eran, he's with me,” the old man said quietly, peering outside, “He's a good fellow, even if he's one of those gentlemen types. Why are you so angry?”
The one-eyed man looked thoughtfully at the old man, then at me again. I could almost see the gears spinning in his head. He probably knows the jeweler well. But I'm obviously unpleasant to him, as he has no respect for nobles.
“OK,” he removed his hand and allowed me to pass, “But know this! There are some people who don't really like your type. So don't get cocky. They can cut you up before you even blink,” the one-eyed man grinned as he said this.
I shrugged and dragged the cart into the building. We found ourselves in a long, wide corridor with many doors on both sides, each of them with a number on it. At the entrance, there was a tiny room and a table that probably belonged to the one-eyed Eran.
“Don't be mad at him,” the old man was confidently walking ahead of me. “Eran is, of course, a robber and a murderer, but he has never killed any innocents. His house is a shelter for people like me. And he doesn't charge a high fee for accommodations and food.”
“Yeah, ok,” I whispered softly.
“Do you doubt me?” the jeweler chuckled. “You shouldn’t. You know, before I got here, I thought as you do now. I used to divide everything into black and white. And it turned out to be very different from that,” the old man waved his hand annoyingly, “I live here now.”
He stopped at the door with a “happy” # 13 painted on it, as we had walked more than half the length of the corridor.
Having rummaged in the inner pockets of his shirt, the old man pulled out a large, rusty key on a short rope, struggled a bit with the lock and opened the door to a small but cozy room.
“Come in,” he offered, “I have only the one bed, you'll sleep on it, as you're a guest after all, and I'll rest on the floor. It's better than sleeping outside. Or are you in a hurry?” the jeweler suddenly asked with a squint.
“Well, no,” I answered honestly.
The quests can wait, I have plenty of time.
“By the way,” the jeweler asked. “What's your name?”
“Kraven.”
“What a strange name,” the old man shook his head. “Well, you can call me Grandpa. Yeah, just Grandpa!” He repeated his name, seeing my surprised expression. “I'm used to the nickname. And ... thank you again, Kraven,” the jeweler held out his hand.
OK! I happily shook his hand. He hadn’t revealed his name before, maybe he'll say it some other time. I'm curious now.
Ring-ring
The quiet chime of bells caused me to wince in surprise as the, lines of a semi-transparent system message popped up in front of my eyes.
A hidden task: To help Grandpa, is done
Reputation with NPCs is increased to "Respect"
Level 2 has been obtained
You have 3 points available for distribution
‘Hm? This is quite weird and sudden.’
‘Although, the world of Noria is full of these kinds of hidden and secret tasks,
generated by the Artificial Intelligence for certain situations.’
‘You throw, for example, a coin to a beggar, and immediately messages come. The beggar turns out to be a disguised high priest of some heavenly patron. It happens sometimes. There are well-known occurrences in real-world history, when in ancient times kings and emperors dressed as ordinary poor people and walked around the cities, watched how people lived, how they treated each other, whether they cursed the government and their rulers or not.’
‘Sometimes it is different. Some hidden tasks can bring significant benefits, others are just a small plus to your virtual karma, but the third um...can cause so much trouble that you'll regret it a hundred times over.’
‘So, in this case, the system counted in my favor the help I provided and good attitude I displayed toward the old jeweler, throwing a certain amount of experience and, at the same time, increasing my reputation. I don't need the second level, as well as the three free points accompanying each new level, because for me it's too early still, the reputation, on the other hand, is a very good addition. This task, by the way, can be attributed to those affecting karma, useless, but pleasant nonetheless.’
‘Also, it is not simple to gain experience points and reputation in the game.’
‘The amount of experience given for completed tasks, killing mobs, creating items, and so on, is never indicated. Neither is how much is left to the next level. The experience value is unknown and highly personalized for each player. Everything is left to the discretion of the AI controlling the game. You could kill a dozen hares in the nearest forest and not get any points, but you could collect cabbage in the garden for an old woman and get the long-awaited level. Now, of course, if you manage to kill a wolf that’s level 11, the AI will honestly evaluate the method of the kill and give you enough experience for at least two or even three levels. But the same method will not work the second time, you will need to come up with something new or modify the old quite a lot.’
‘As for reputation... There are four kinds of negative and the same number of positive reputations. Let's start with the worst case—‘Hatred.’ They will kill you always and everywhere they see you, if they can, of course, or the consequences of a murder will not result in death for the NPCs. Do not consider those who hate you to be hateful, bloodthirsty maniacs. Oh no, they can make plans, be careful and cautious. Then comes ‘Enmity’—they may kill you or maybe not. It depends on their mood, so to speak. ‘Dislike’—they probably will not talk to you, answer your questions, either, but they can send you “to hell” if you are too persistent or hit you if you annoy them too much. And finally, you have ‘Mistrust’ - it is One-Eyed thief and murderer’s attitude to me. Simply put, he does not like me and that's it.’
‘Now more on positive reputation—‘Friendliness’. If none of the above-mentioned things happen between you and NPCs, then you have this reputation by default. You can chat with them, ask them something, bargain, help, if possible, even get a quest. The next one is ‘Respect’—for example, Grandpa: I'm sure the system gave me the reputation at the moment when I helped him, but it did not hurry to show that to me, maybe, it did not want me to get too complacent. In this case, the NPC thinks you are their best friend and tries to help you with all their strength, for example, by giving you rare and interesting quests. ‘Reverence’—if they are of the opposite sex, be careful, he or she could start to flirt, this isn’t a joke. You will always be accepted as a member of the family, given all the best, given protection and so on. ‘Exaltation’—you are almost God to them.
You can find out your current reputation only by looking at external signs. No figures and data, except system messages about its increase (as in the case of Grandpa) or decrease, and the game does not generate these messages for you. You could kill a wandering cat, then you meet a merchant, and he turns out to be the father of the girl who owned the cat, who saw what you did. Then you will be asked to move along and not interfere with trade. If you start to argue, he will call the guards.
Ring-ring
What else could this be?
You have not eaten for a long time, the ‘Easy Hunger’ debuff has been received
Every 30 minutes, your endurance level will decrease by 10%
Potions of endurance will not help
If the endurance is depleted, you will receive the ‘Heavy Hunger’ debuff
Every 30 minutes, the life level will decrease by 10%
Potions of life will not help
Try to eat on time!
‘What an accurate and correct explanation! Thanks a lot. I will die of hunger, then revive, and, if I do not eat for a while, will get this debuff and die all over again. With my sensitivity, I really need to eat on time and make sure the food isn’t rotten.’
“Grandpa,” I said excitedly, “Do you have anything to eat?”
While I was thinking, the jeweler began to sort out his belongings and laid them out on the table.
"No, of course not," he answered without distraction. “There is an eatery in this building. There.” Without looking, Grandpa waved his hand to the side, “At the end of the corridor. Wait a bit, and we'll go there together. Don’t go there alone, it's better if you go with me.”
"Yes Grandpa." I sat down on the lonely little chair by the door.
Grandpa finished in a little over an hour, and I watched anxiously as the figure of fifty in the line turned into forty.
"Let's go," he said, taking the key and nodding at the door.
I immediately ran out of the room. Grandpa, closing the door carefully, turned the key in the lock and walked to the end of the corridor slowly. I impatiently circled near him, and mentally counted down the time until the next tick.
“Are you really so hungry?” The old man was surprised and perturbed by my actions. “Eh, youth. There is no patience in you.”
Grandpa! Hurry up! I screamed in my mind. No time for stories! Not now!
But finally, we came to the end of the corridor, I opened the double door and let the jeweler go ahead in front of me.
It was a huge hall, poorly lit by some dim glowing balls on the ceiling, with a lot of chaotically arranged tables, at which a dozen or two people could be found sitting. On the right, near the entrance, there was a long counter with trays and dishes, and in the opposite, far corner, I saw two people cooking something in a large copper pot, standing by an open stove.
“Take two trays, bowls and spoons and go to the cooks,” Grandfather advised me. "I'll talk to them for awhile."
Trying not to attract attention, although those who needed to, had noticed us already, I grabbed trays, a couple of deep wooden bowls, and walked to the stove along the wall, away from the tables. The closer I approached, the more I felt the pleasant smell of freshly cooked food.
Grandpa took the trays and bowls from me and filled them with food for me and him.
“Let's go to the far table," the jeweler suggested.
“Mmm!” I cautiously tried the first spoon, it was something like a thick soup, and closed my eyes with pleasure. “Yummy!”
I don't know what it was made of, but it tasted pretty good. I ate quickly, but neatly.
Endurance is restored 5050
Life is restored 3030
‘Great! I would finally be able to relax. I could forget about food for at least the next twelve hours. As far as I remember, in this game it is enough to eat only once a day, and food can restore life after minor injuries. And how could I have forgotten that? However, even if I had remembered, I still had no money for food.’
“Hey, Grandpa,” a man with an obvious gangster’s face sat next to us, “Who's that guy?” He pointed at me with his finger, which had a dirty, gnawed fingernail.
Grandpa looked confused.
‘What do you want from me, huh?’ I thought, annoyed.
“Kraven,” the jeweler whispered, a little scared.
“I don't care what his name is! What is this noble creature doing here?” The an
gry man was staring at me now.
I was silent, although I wanted to respond, but Eran had advised me to not draw attention. And the voice of reason also required that I sit quietly and not get in trouble.
“Why are you silent? Are you dumb or what? Maybe a cat got your tongue?” the bandit offered mocking questions. “Grandpa, leave us alone,” he aggressively, but gently, pushed him off the bench, “Let us have a heart-to-heart talk. I don't like, as you know, such gentlemen.”
Grandpa was standing nearby and blinking, while his hands began to tremble nervously. He didn't know what to do. It was clear to me that he shouldn’t interfere and he had no one to ask for help.
I tensed up, anticipating a big problem, and the advice, to not show off, wouldn't help much there. Of course, I knew how to fight well, but that was in real life. Five years of daily martial arts training increased my speed, reaction time, and reflexes—which are very important for a pilot. Moreover, I not only drove flyers but also trained, so my dexterity and attentiveness were at the highest level.
‘But the game has its own rules. I don't have any real powers here. There are only those that ‘Noria’ has recently given me.’
‘Oh, and I thought the day had started off poorly. No, it had started very well, but it will end even “better”—with my death! I don't think that this thug wants to talk to me. Alas, perhaps this is my fate.’
I didn't wait for a move from the bandit and, having grabbed the first thing nearby—a tray, I hit his impudent face with it, accompanied by the words, “Fuck you!”
You have dealt physical damage -3
A translucent message popped up before my eyes for a split second.
What was I hoping for? Could I kill him? It was way too unlikely.
Blood sprayed from the bandit's broken nose and he wiped it off with his sleeve. “The noble has some character, yeap? You know.” He pulled out a little knife, with a crooked serrated blade. “Well, since you have quite a tongue on you, I'll cut it out right now!”
