by Charles Dean
She fished a small twig out of her long golden-brown hair that had gotten caught while she napped and idly tossed it toward the brook. It landed silently with a few small ripples and slowly began moving along with the current. Can’t I just stay here forever? she pondered. Something about the place made her feel safe and brought back memories of better days . . . days when things weren’t so rushed and confusing . . . when she still held onto dreams of living a quiet and happy life . . . but those days are probably gone now . . .
Another sigh followed, much heavier this time, as she came to her feet and inspected her dress. Not perfect, but it’ll have to do. She brushed her hand over the fabric a couple times to smooth out a few wrinkles and began making her way down, back toward town. Just as she was about to leave the small cluster of trees, she turned and looked back behind her, trying to take it all in. I just want to remember this, to hold on to it. Things up here were always the same: simple, quiet, and peaceful. No matter what changes went on in town, she knew that she could always count on this place remaining unchanged.
It wasn’t a long trip back to town, but she had to be careful not to waste too much time. She couldn’t get a clear glimpse of the sun through the leaves from where she was, but she had a pretty good idea that it was late in the afternoon now. She would be expected to show up for her shift at the bar before it was completely dark, and old man Peter, the bartender, was a stickler for punctuality. There wasn’t ever any real threat of her losing her job if she was late, but he wouldn’t hesitate to lecture her on how being on time meant being ten minutes early. The talks weren’t so bad, but they always turned into him talking about his son. The man was obsessed with every little thing his boy did, and the barman felt like it was his responsibility to keep everyone else informed as well.
Just as she was about to exit the woods and step onto the roadway that led up further into the mountains, she heard voices come up from below. She ducked behind one of the larger trees and watched the road, hoping that they would pass by without noticing her. I’ll never hear the end of it if someone catches me out here . . . She couldn’t make out what they were saying at first, but their voices became clearer and more distinct as they drew closer.
“. . . can’t believe how amazing this is,” a man’s voice said in wonder.
“You mean that you can’t believe how far we’re having to travel just to find something to kill?” a second answered, much more glumly than the first.
A hunting party? Heading out this late in the day? I know that things have been stretched a bit thin in town with all the new people suddenly showing up and most of the men being drafted into the legions, but why are they leaving when it’s almost dark?
“Really? It doesn’t seem like it’s that far. We only just left the town a few minutes ago.”
“How many games have you ever played where you had to actually hunt down mob spawns in the starter town? Aren’t they supposed to just spawn everywhere so that they’re easy to find?”
A hunting game? They’re hunting for sport? Not for food? Eliza crouched down behind the tree and pressed up against it. She had heard of a few people in the capital that would hunt down animals as part of some strange contest, but she never imagined that she would actually see them. Food in the capital was much easier to come by because so many people went there to trade, and from what she had heard, people never even had to leave the city to find good meat.
“It’s just a bind point, man. You know that this isn’t like anything else we’ve ever tried. It’ll take some time to get things going at first, but it will be fun after that, I promise.”
Something feels off about this . . . I can’t even understand half of what they are saying. What are ‘bind points’? Wait . . . ‘mobs’? Isn’t that what they said? They want to kill an entire herd of animals? Or . . . Eliza’s brow furrowed together as she tried to puzzle out exactly what these people were up to, and she pressed her lips together in a thin line of determination. The last thing she wanted was to be caught out here by anyone, much less two random people out looking for things to kill, but something inside her told her that she had to figure out what these people were up to. If they were somehow related to the war that was going on, she had to know. It was rare, but not completely unheard of, for there to be traitors working for the Black-Wings.
Eliza peeked her head out from around the corner of the tree and risked a glance down the trail. The two men were just coming around a bend in the roadway and into her line of sight. She quickly jerked her head back out of fear of being spotted, but she was astonished by what that short glimpse had shown her. There’s no way . . . Did I really see that right? She slowly snuck her head around so that she could just make them out from the corner of her vision and watched them as they worked their way up the trail.
“Yeah, well, you’d think that the devs could have been a little more considerate. Who wants to do all this work for just some noob spawns? I didn’t realize I was signing up for an Oregon Trail simulation,” the second man complained again.
The other man beside him actually threw back his head and laughed at his companion. “Are you afraid of dying from dysentery?”
She pulled her head back and stared off into the forest in front of her. These people are crazy. All thoughts of them being spies for the Black-Wings or White-Horns immediately disappeared. She wouldn’t have believed it if she hadn’t double-checked, but these two idiots were walking around in nothing but their cloth breeches. The one who had been complaining the entire time had a rudimentary bow slung over his shoulder, but she hadn’t even seen a quiver with arrows. How is someone supposed to hunt for game without arrows? What good can you even do with a bow if you don’t have something to shoot from it? The other guy with him looked to be equally as helpless and was only carrying a small short sword in addition to a tiny round shield strapped to his arm. They aren’t even wearing shoes! What kind of hunters are these people supposed to be? She clamped her hand down over her mouth and tried her hardest to stop from giggling at how absolutely absurd it was.
“Wait, did you hear something?” the complainer asked.
Eliza’s eyes popped open wide in shock. I didn’t make a sound, did I? She listened closely as their footsteps stopped.
“Nani?” the other responded inquisitively in a slightly high-pitched tone.
“What? I said I thought I heard something,” he repeated.
“Doko?”
“What are you even saying? Would you cut it with the Japanese already?” he asked impatiently. “Did you hear that noise?”
“Gomen, ne. What noise?”
“Somewhere over here . . .” he said, and the footsteps started coming closer.
Eliza held her breath. How did they hear that? Did I really giggle?
“I don’t think there’s anything this close to town. From what I’ve read, there should be a group of Ogres just up the way a bit. We should start hitting them fairly soon if we just keep walking a little further.”
“No, I swear I heard something,” he insisted.
I can’t stand it anymore. I have to know if they’re talking about me. Ugh. What a mess. At least I know that they aren’t spies. She peeped around the corner of the tree she was hiding behind and found herself only a few inches away from one of the two men.
“Ahh!” The man screamed and stumbled backward, arms flailing wildly, quite a few steps before falling flat on his backside beside his companion.
“Eep!” Eliza immediately jumped to her feet and stared at the two men. The one who had fallen over was frantically trying to get to his feel and remove the bow from his back at the same time, not that it would have done him a lot of good without any arrows, and the other was staring at her blankly.
“Uhh . . . Hello,” she said quietly and put on the best smile she could muster. It was embarrassing to be caught by someone while you were hiding out and listening to their conversation, even if they were really weird, and she could feel a tinge of red enter her ch
eeks. It didn’t help matters that they were so scantily dressed.
“H-hai,” the young man who was still on his feet responded, rubbing the back of his head and looking down at the ground.
“Dude, what’s wrong with you?” his friend asked, finally untangling his weapon and scrambling to his feet. He shoved his friend’s shoulder, forcing him to take a step to the side and look up.
“Nanda, yo!” he responded harshly.
“You realize that you’re not Japanese, right? That you’re American? And you know that I know that you’re American, right? Stop wasting time and get her!” he shouted and pointed at Eliza.
“What?” Eliza gasped. “No, no.” She held her hands up in front of her and took a few steps backward. Being caught was embarrassing enough, but being accosted by two barely-dressed men was something else entirely. Images of foul things flashed through her mind, and she felt her heart start to race as panic built inside of her. “I’ll just . . . I’ll just be going this way,” she said quietly and began edging her way down the hill and away from the two creeps.
“What are you doing?!” he man with the bow shouted again. “You have the sword! Don’t let her get away!”
“Wh-what? W-why?” he asked sheepishly. “You want me to attack an unarmed girl?”
“A girl? She’s clearly a mob!” he insisted.
“N-no, I don’t think so,” the other man retorted. “I r-really don’t think she is.”
“What do you mean you don’t think so? What else would she be doing out here?!”
“Maybe she’s another player.”
“She can’t be a player. Look at her name!” The man waved his bow around in circles towards Eliza as if he were circling some imaginary object only he could see.
“W-what? What do you mean? H-how can you tell?”
“They’re different. Mobs’ names are different, right?”
“H-how should I know? We haven’t even found one yet.”
“Maybe there’s a test we can perform. If you would just get it over with and kill her, we’d know for sure.”
“W-what? A-attack her? W-what if she’s another player?” He turned and looked down at the ground again, kicking a loose rock across the ground. “I don’t want to be known as a player killer on my first day . . . Maybe we could just ask her?”
“What? No, no. Just no. You can’t just ask someone whether not they’re a mob. How would you know if they’re telling the truth?”
“M-miss,” the man said without looking up. “Are you another player? Or are you a mob?”
Eliza had managed to edge her way around the two men, but she had been struck dumbfounded by the quick exchange between them. She had been standing, wide-eyed, watching them, but now began backing away slowly again. These two aren’t spies. They’re idiots. Complete loons.
The other man sighed heavily. “I just said you can’t do that. How do we know that she’ll answer honestly? I’m telling you, we have to test this!”
“Bu-but how? D-do you want to see if she floats?” he looked up at the other man questioningly.
“To see if she floats? Seriously? That old gag again? We’re trying to figure out if she’s a mob, not a witch!”
Eliza turned, lifted up the hem of her dress, and began moving down the path as quickly as she could to get away from them.
“Wait, what if she’s a quest giver?” he questioned excitedly. “I just remembered what a blue name means! It means she’s an NPC! Why else would someone be all the way up here alone? Maybe she’s a rare spawn we just stumbled across!”
Eliza wasn’t there to see it, but both of the two men had turned to look at her with eager expressions on their faces.
“Hey! Wait! She’s getting away! Why didn’t you just attack her?!” he yelled. “That could have been our first kill! Wait! And why do you always start stuttering when there’s a girl around?!”
But Eliza was gone. It wasn’t long before she reached ground that she could sprint on, and she hiked up her dress above her knees and quickly put her legs to work carrying her back to town. She could feel her heart thudding in her chest when she finally approached the large wooden gates of the town. There were two guards out front, both of them clad in chainmail and holding spears, and one of them was just beginning to light the lanterns that hung on either side of the gate. The one watched her approach and quickly stiffened to attention, stamping the butt of his spear into the ground to alert the other that someone was approaching. They both quickly moved to block her path.
“Greetings, citizen. What is the nature of your visit to Valcrest?” he called out to her.
“Stein,” she gasped, slowing to a stumbling walk and entering into the flickering light cast from the lanterns. It wasn’t nearly dark yet, but the illumination still helped. “There’s . . . there’s two naked men out there,” she pointed back in the direction she came from. “They’re . . . I think they’re crazy or something,” she panted, trying to get her breath back. Then the rest came out in a rush, “They’re talking about killing a bunch of people or animals or something and using nonsense words I can’t even understand and you have to stop them.”
Both of the two guards stared at her, mouths agape, then Stein said, “Oh, it’s Eliza. What are you doing outside the walls this close to night, young lady?” he demanded. “You know how dangerous it is to even leave town with this war going on, much less after dark!”
Eliza stared back at him. “But . . .”
“And shouldn’t you be getting ready to work your shift at the bar?” he asked sternly. “What are you doing dawdling around out here? Don’t tell me you’re going to blow off poor Peter. The man’s been swamped with all these new people that have been coming in lately. You know that he’s counting on you to be there!”
“But . . .”
“Don’t you ‘but’ me, young lady. You know better! You’re not a child anymore!” he scolded.
Eliza finally had a bit of her breath back, and she used it to sigh. This is how they always were. It’s just how they thought. They were good-hearted men, but duty and obligation always came first with them. They were perfect for their positions as guardsmen, and it was only by a stroke of luck that they hadn’t left for the legion with most of the other men.
Stein reached out and rested his hand on her shoulder, and his face softened. “And don’t worry about those guys. They came through here a little while ago asking about camps and loot and buffs and spawns and all sorts of other nonsense. They’re two of these newcomers, and I think we can agree that they’re all a bit odd.” He squeezed her shoulder reassuringly and said, “Now, get to work, young miss.”
-----
Eliza smoothed her dress down as she nervously looked up and down the street. The number of people making their way into Valcrest had grown tremendously over the past few days, and there were so many unfamiliar faces now that it was hard to spot anyone that she recognized. Not even a week ago, the small town had felt so empty. Most of the men who were of fighting age had been called up into the legions and marched off to the front in order to take a position against the threat of a growing White-Horn force that was reported to be gathering there. There were also several others who had joined up voluntarily, many of whom were either too old or too young to be pressed into service, and the sudden loss had left the town feeling rather empty.
Now, however, over just a short period of time, things had shifted back in the opposite direction. There were so many people in the village that it was hard to even navigate the streets at certain times of day. The small village she called home had never been a major thoroughfare for trade, since it was situated so far away from the capital and nestled in the mountains, and it was fairly unusual for more than a few random hunting parties or travelers to pass through at any one time. Now, however, there were dozens, if not hundreds, of new people making their way in and out of the city at almost every hour of the day. The influx of newcomers seemed to slow down in the earliest hours of morning, but other
than that, the town had seemed to have become a temporary home to a booming population that no one she spoke with could ever remember seeing outside of trips to the capital.
The presence of so many strangers left her on edge. She was used to a quiet life where she knew exactly what to expect out of her daily routine. Unless someone had too much to drink in the tavern and got rowdy, there was never any cause for concern or commotion. Even then, most of the men were fairly tame compared to some of the stories she had been told, and the worst that she could expect from anyone was a few spilled beers or a displaced chair or two.
These newcomers, however, were completely unpredictable. There was no way to predict what they were going to do or say, or even how they would be dressed. They seemed to come up with the most ridiculous looking sets of armor and weapons, many of which were far too shabby or in states of disrepair to even be usable. She had even seen more than a few of them wearing strange combinations of leather and metal armor--and at the worst nothing but their smallclothes. She tried never to stare people like that--she knew that it was rude--but everyone should have sense enough to know not to mix two different armor types. The results would be a hindrance at best and deadly at the worst. There was no self-respecting woodsman she had ever met that would wear steel armor out into the forest. It would slow down their movement speed, reduce their agility, and was far too loud and clunky for hunting anything other than the largest creatures that lived far up in the peaks of the mountains. These newcomers, however, either didn’t have sense enough to know how to properly prepare for a hunt or were far too ignorant to realize their mistakes. It was just hard to believe that so many people could make such fundamental errors.
