by Galen Wolf
I whisper to Blodeuwedd. “Donnie Darko — really?”
“I’m not in charge of this,” the owl says.
“Hey,” I ask Donnie the miner. “What’s the quest?”
Donnie pinches his chin thoughtfully, and somewhat theatrically I think. “I need copper ore to make weapons, but I’m tied to my stall.”
I wonder what his hours are. He must get very little family time. That’s not good. He continues. “So if you could go outside Camelot and find me a copper deposit and bring me two chunks of ore, I’d be very grateful.”
“Sure,” I can do that, “I say cheerily. It sounds pretty simple.”
I hit
I shake my head. “No.”
“I can sell you one.”
Is this some kind of marketing scheme? I frown. “How much?”
“A penny.”
I only have two, but I guess I’ll need a pick-axe. I can always use it later to get ore for myself. “Okay”, I say wearily and hand over the penny. It has King Arthur’s head on one side and a dragon on the other. I’m about to leave when he says, “You’ll probably need a shovel too.”
“A shovel. Let me guess, you sell them?”
He nods. “A penny.”
I give a thin smile. “How predictable.” I give him my final penny. I put the pick and the shovel in my inventory.
Blodeuwedd hops back on my shoulder. “And that leaves you penniless.” She makes the owl laughing noise again and I sweep her off my shoulder. “You can walk if you’re going to make bad jokes.” At least in this game I don’t have to eat and drink, or I’d starve.
“Any directions to the ore?” I ask Donnie Darko.
“No.” He beams at me. “They’re plentiful.”
I turn to Blodeuwedd. “Suggestions?”
“We go out the city gate, head south fifteen miles to the Forest of Inglewood. It’s a big questing area. We might even find some before then.”
As we walk out of the city square and down the main route to the South Gate of Camelot, the place is still bustling. Blodeuwedd shouts, “Move!” and instinctively I dodge the contents of a chamber pot thrown out of an upper story by a chamber maid. I owe her for that.
The guards let us out of the towered city gate and just outside is a vendor selling horses and donkeys. Fifteen miles is a long walk. I stop and eye the horses.
“Can I rent you a steed, young sir? Or would you prefer to buy one?”
“I’m broke,” I say. The vendor’s eyes shift and he moves on to another, better heeled noob walking out of the door behind me.
“We walk then,” I say.
Blodeuwedd says. “You do. I’ll sit on your shoulder for a while, then fly.”
The great river Idon is visible snaking east from the north side of Camelot. We follow the smaller river Petteril down the valley. Mountains loom ahead of us, but they’re still a long way off.
“Is that where we’re headed?”
“No. You will go there eventually. But Inglewood is between the High Mountains and the Long Mountains.” I look and see the mountains clumping to the south are pretty high, while to the east is a long high ridge. I guess those are the Long Mountains.
We come to a small village called Heskett. I get 50xp for discovering it. The place is just some huts with smoke coming through the thatch, a ginger village idiot sitting by the well and two mangy dogs. The great South Road stretches on in a dusty line before us. It’s flanked by trees and seems to go on forever. The day is quite warm. I wipe sweat and dust from my brow.
“How far have we gone?”
“Three miles.”
“Seriously? That few?”
She nods and blinks his bright bird eyes. And then we stop by the river. A big rock is visible in the middle of the water. The way the sun catches it makes it gleam. I stand and go to the river edge. Peering over, I say, “That looks like metal in the rock.”
“Check your HUD. You’ve got the skill.”
As I look at the rock, my HUD pops up a message.
I’m jubilant. I fist pump. I cheer.
“It’s pretty common.”
“Don’t rain on my parade,” I say. “At least I found some. And before fifteen miles. How do I get to it?”
“Swim?”
Now, it turns out I don’t have any skills in swimming. I ask her the likely upshot of this. “You’ll probably drown.”
That’s not a plan then. I go and look at the water. It doesn’t look too deep so I decide to wade. It reaches up to my chest at its deepest, and it’s cold, but I get to the rock. Once there, I stand on it and slam into it with my pick. I break up the rock but the game mechanics require me to use a shovel to collect the ore. The estimate was wrong. There were five copper ore chunks.
I wade back with the ore in my inventory. “Let’s get back to Camelot. Don’t suppose you could give me a lift?”
She looks at me then says. “I can’t lift you.”
I wink. “I was joking. It’s not only you who’s got a sense of humour, you know.”
As we’re walking back, I see twisting black smoke rising about half a mile in front. It looks like it’s coming from the village we passed through. “What’s going on there?”
Blodeuwedd flies up and then comes down. “It’s been razed.”
“Like burned, destroyed?”
“Yes.”
“By who?”
“There are lots of bad guys round here.”
“That could have attacked us?”
She blinks more. “Yes.”
“And you didn’t warn me?”
“I thought it would be character building to get suddenly jumped.”
“And die?”
“Probably.”
“What happens when I die, actually?”
“You return to your bind point.”
“I haven’t got a bind point.”
“Automatically set at Camelot square, though you can change it.”
“That’s okay then. But you didn’t warn me!”
“Get over yourself. Think of these villagers.”
“How often do they get their village razed?”
“A lot. Every day probably.”
“Why doesn’t anyone stop it?”
The owl says, “That’s your job.”
“My job? Since when?”
“Since you decided to be one of the good guys. Level, grow strong, protect the weak, uphold the laws of chivalry. Drive back the Evil One.”
I never thought of it like that. I thought it was just a game, I didn’t realise there were moral implications.
In the village all the huts are burned. The corpses of the NPCs litter the ground. They have been robbed and badly assaulted. The raiders even killed the dogs. I ask why anyone would do that.
“For the xp?”
“So they’re players who did this?”
“Of course. Who did you think did it?”
“I don’t know. NPCs. I don’t think about it at all, actually. Not until now.”
“No, it’s players. People who have decided to be wicked.”
That reinforces my decision to be on the side of good. I see there’s a sign marked in charcoal on the side of a hut. It looks like a black diamond with a dot in it. “What’s that signify?”
“It’s the mark of the Fangs of Koth, the guild who did this.”
“The Fangs of Koth. Who’s Koth?”
“Another name for the Evil One.”
“So they’re worshippers of the Evil One?”
“Yeppers. And we better clear out of here in case they come back.”
In Camelot, Donnie Darko is overjoyed to get his copper ore.
I need another 250xp for Level 2. Donnie gives me two groats each for the two ore lumps I
give him. I sell him an extra one for another two groats, meaning I now have six groats.
I have a plan. I go over to the Welsh smith and buy a plate armour mould from him for six groats. Behind him is the public forge and, as I go up to it and begin my crafting, Blodeuwedd says, “There are better forges. They add stats to your gear, but this is a basic one.”
From my smithing skills I am able to make a copper longsword, using the mould I bought. It takes a lot of heating and hammering, then dousing and tempering, but I’m there.
I then make my armour. It also takes work. My level is so low that it’s pretty poor, but even so.
I put both on. They’re better than what I’ve got, plus I made them myself and that feels good. The skins the game gives them are good, even though they are basic. Wearing my copper armour, I even feel like a knight.
“Yeah, yeah. Okay I suppose,” Blodeuwedd says. She’s not one for going overboard with compliments.
I sell my leather armour for a groat and my dagger for a penny. So I now have 3 groats and one penny, plus one copper ore chunk and my new armour. I’m definitely getting better.
“Next, is a serious quest,” Blodeuwedd says.
4
The Quest of St Ninian
The owl takes me to the Tower of the Squires. It stands on the outer ring of the castle of Camelot, but we still have to go through the castle portcullis with its watchful guards and high walls of sandstone. I notice the sign of the Cross is engraved into the walls and painted white as if to ward off evil visitors.
We’re gathered in a circular room. I’m with a bunch of other noobs — their names float above their heads. They seem to come and go and I guess that the scene is instanced. It triggers as I enter. A tall man in armour with a dark beard and dark brown, almost black eyes, watches me come in. I guess he’s a knight. There are two squires behind him. One holds a pennant with diagonal red stripes alternating with diagonal white stripes. Along the line of the white stripes are black symbols that look like a fleur de lys.
He doesn’t bow to me, but Blodeuwedd tells me to bow to him, so I nod my head.
“Well met,” the man says. “And you are?”
I struggle to remember my game name, but it’s up there on my HUD. I clear my throat and say, “Gorrow, sire.”
“Bow again,” whispers Blodeuwedd. Lots of bowing. I’m not used to it, but we’re role playing, so I do.
The knight says, “I am Sir Bors de Ganis, a loyal knight of King Arthur. You are here because you want to become a squire of the Court of King Arthur, and eventually try to be knighted?”
“Eventually,” Blodeuwedd says. “Might take a while.”
I want to knock the bird off my shoulder, but I don’t. I simply nod. “That’s correct, sire.”
Sir Bors shakes his head. “I am not your sire. Sir, will suffice.”
“Sorry, sir.”
“To become a knight of King Arthur’s Court is a heavy duty but a privilege also. We live in dark times. The Evil One, Satanus, grows in power and his servants are everywhere. They have taken much of the land to the east of the Long Mountains turned it from a green and pleasant place to a realm that bubbles with evil and chaos. We must stop that advance, or Camelot itself will fall.”
“This is Camelot. Does the King have other cities?” I ask.
Sir Bors narrows his eyes. “You know that King Arthur progresses around his land of Britain from town to town, to make sure all parts are safe? Currently the court resides in Camelot, in a month we will travel north to Caeredin and remain there for the winter.”
The other noobs around me seem to be having similar conversations with Sir Bors. Bors strokes his dark beard and begins his tale. “Know you of worthy St Ninian?” I guess this is the quest.
“Say yes,” Blodeuwedd says, “It makes this bit shorter.”
I nod.
“His chapel in the east on Alston Moor is on the edge of the advancing darkness. We have not heard from this holy saint or his acolytes for two months now and we fear the worst.”
“What level is this quest?” I ask Blodeuwedd. Truth is, I’m ready for a challenge. “Sshh!” The bird pecks me painfully on the ear.
Sir Bors goes on, “To prove your courage, would you join an expedition east to Alston Moor to the Chapel of St Ninian, to assure us of his safety, or, if necessary escort him back to Camelot?”
“I would. Sure. Yes.”
Sir Bors smiles at my enthusiasm. A message appears on my HUD.
I hit
Sir Bors finally bows and I guess that’s my cue to leave. I back out of the tower and soon we’re standing on the cobbled streets of Camelot. “What now?”
Blodeuwedd says, “Remember, if you do the quest right, St Ninian will bless your weapon and give it additional cold damage.”
“Ah cool.”
The owl winks. “Exactly.”
“But do I do this on my own?”
“No, numbskull. You’ll die. Check the social tab on your HUD.”
“You’re very rude for an advisor,” I say.
“Yeah, well if you weren’t so dumb, we’d get on better.”
I narrow my mouth. “You can walk for that.”
“Huh?”
“Get off my shoulder.”
The bird hops off. “Suit yourself. I was doing you a favour by being up there. Making me easier to hear.”
“Your voice is piercing enough to hear from down there.”
She begins to sulk and I check the social panel. I check the Looking for More tab and see that there are three groups looking to do The Quest of St Ninian. One of them has five members and as a full group is six, from what I’ve read, I join that. Then I realise the owl has flown off. Maybe she’ll come back, maybe she won’t.
The adventuring party meets outside the Eastern Gate to Camelot. Ahead about fifteen miles away are the Long Mountains. My HUD Map suggests we need to head east and south to get to the pass that’ll take us up to Alston Moor.
I look around at my group. There is a guy on a horse and I wonder how he’s managed to afford that at such low level. He glances down and seems a bit haughty. “Hi, I’m Luc.”
There’s a guy in green and brown with leather straps around his chest as armour. He has a bow. I guess he’s a ranger. He nods. “I’m Gearhart.”
There’s a pretty blonde girl in brown cassock. “Hello,” she says. “I’m Adele, I’m a Nun of the Order of Contemplation.” I must have looked baffled because she says, “A healer.”
“Ah.”
There’s also a shifty looking guy with a wispy beard and bushy eyebrows. He doesn’t introduce himself. Adele, who’s clearly helpful by nature says, “He’s Bernard, an alchemist. You’re a warrior I take it?”
I nod. “So we’ve got a Nun, an Alchemist, a Ranger, me as a warrior and Luc.” I look up at the guy on the horse. “What are you Luc?”
“I’m a paladin.”
“Is that better than a warrior?”
“I think so.”
Bernard speaks for the first time. “But you’re not a paladin yet are you, Luc. Not even a squire.”
Luc looks down his nose at the alchemist and says nothing.
Bernard shakes my hand. “Sorry, was miles away. I’m Bernard.”
“I told him,” Adele says.
“Do you guys know each other already?”
Adele nods. “We’ve been on one other quest before this. It was...”
“Awful,” Bernard says.
Gearhart the ranger throws back his head and laughs. “Putting it mildly.”
“Bonding!” Adele says. “It was a bonding experience.”
“Are we ready to go yet?” Luc says.
“Wait a minute, Mr High and Mighty, we’re talking to the new guy,” Bern
ard says.
Gearhart raises his eyebrows.
“So what level are you all?”
“We’re all 2 except Luc who’s 3. What about you?” Adele says.
“Just 1.”
“You’ll level soon.”
“I hope so.”
“Well, I’m starting,” Luc says and spurs his horse down the long road east.
We all follow behind. “He’s just like that,” Adele says. “You’ll get used to him.”
We walk behind Luc and his dashing grey horse. I chat mainly with Adele and Bernard. Gearhart chips in every now and again but Luc seems pretty aloof. I mention this.
Bernard says, “Yeah, he’s pretty full of himself.”
“He’s a good fighter though,” Adele says hefting her pack onto her shoulder. I notice they’ve all got packs but me.
“Because he bought the best equipment.” Bernard’s got a smile on his face.
“He must have got good money from questing though.”
“Not really,” Gearhart adds, from my left. “He gets his money from plat farmers.”
“Isn’t that against game rules?”
Gearhart winks. “Only if you get caught.”
“Daddy’s got lots of money,” Bernhard says.
Adele says, “You’re being very hard on him. He’s a holy paladin. He upholds the Code of Chivalry.”
That gets my interest. “Is that tied in to reputation.”
Bernard nods. “Yep. If you keep the Code your reputation increases and you get more holy, if you break it, you get more evil.”
“Simple huh?” Gearhart says.
“But some people want to be evil,” Adele says. “They seem to enjoy bullying and torturing those weaker than them.”
“Where can I see the code?”
Bernard says, “It’s on the game wiki.”
I take a look an there it is:
To fear God and maintain His Church
To serve the liege lord in valour and faith
To protect the weak and defenceless
To give succour to widows and orphans
To refrain from the wanton giving of offence
To live by honour and for glory
To despise pecuniary reward
To fight for the welfare of all
To obey those placed in authority
