Dragon World Online: Inception: A LitRPG Adventure (Electric Shadows Book 1) Page 12

  Which made me wonder why everyone was so hateful to thieves. Honestly, what was the difference between what I did and what these ‘honorable heroes’ did for a handful of coins? Sure, they braved the wilderness and all of its dangers, but, in the end, we all found targets with treasure we wanted and took it from them.

  In fact, you could say I’m nicer than the other heroes. I left my victims alive.

  Usually.

  Faced with an unruly mob of well-arm adventurers who were all loaded down with items they were looking to swap for coins, I needed some kind of cover story. I didn't have any pelts or scrap metal to sell, which made me stand out in the crowd.

  I approached a tall woman at the back of the line with my best sad face plastered across my mug. “Everybody's having better luck than me. Where did you guys get all this stuff?”

  She turned to get a better look at me and a slight smirk peeked through her hard features. “Outside of town. But you should find someone to go with you. It’s dangerous out there.”

  I nodded sadly. “Tell me about it. I went outside and then this happened.”

  She frowned. “You got killed?”

  “Worse. Some little leprechaun-looking dude beat me up and took all my equipment and money.”

  I had no idea if there were any little leprechaun-looking dudes traipsing around this part of the game, but I bet that no one knew everything about the monsters outside the village just yet. If pressed, I'd make up something even more outlandish to cover up my lies. I wasn’t trying to convince anyone of anything other than my own wretched bad luck. Given that I was wearing nothing but the starting crap everyone else began the Game with and a cloak that looked like something you’d find in a dumpster out back of a Salvation Army in a bad neighborhood, that wouldn’t be too hard.

  The warrior rooted around in her belt pouch and offered me a small handful of copper coins. “Here. I don't have much to spare, myself, but if you take this you might be able to buy yourself a used sword or something. It's not much, I know, but at least it’s a start toward getting back on your feet. Get a short sword or something. If that’s too much to handle, go for a dagger.”

  I took the coins and smiled at her with all the fake gratitude I could muster. “Thank you, so much. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

  She gave me a gentle pat on the shoulder. “Just a second. Maybe we can do better.”

  She turned to the warrior ahead of her in the line.

  “Hey, this guy got robbed by a thief NPC outside of town. You have any spare coins you can give him? He needs to get some weapons. Maybe some armor.”

  The warrior handed me a silver piece. “We had a pretty good hunt. Here. You should be able to get a bow or something with this. You don't look like you’re much for close-in fighting.”

  Though I felt a bit insulted at the insinuation that I couldn't hold my own in a fight, I took the silver piece and forced myself to smile. “Thanks. Do you think they have used gear in there?”

  The warriors shrugged, waved, and huddled together for a conversation that I was not invited to participate in.

  Okay, then. It seemed there was a definite limit to the amount of neighborly good-nature around these parts. To be fair to the warriors, they’d done more than I'd hoped and helped me to establish my “woe is me” cover. Now I had a few coins to jingle together and no one would look at me like I didn’t belong.

  The line moved a few feet every minute or so. Adventurers entered the building through the door on the shop’s right and emerged a short time later from the door on the left with heavier coin purses and lighter steps.

  The first few of those leaving the building looked too suspicious and dangerous for my plan. If I screwed up, they’d gut me and leave my corpse steaming in the snow.

  Then I spied a runty gnome with rheumy eyes and crooked back headed out of the shop. I waited for him to come closer, and then called out, “Hey, could you answer a quick question?”

  The gnome grumbled at my interruption, but stopped close enough to talk. “Make it quick.”

  “Do they sell stuff in there, or just buy junk that people bring in?”

  The gnome swept back his cloak to show me a curved short sword with a well-worn hilt. “I got this in there. It’s better than what I started with, and it was pretty cheap, too.”

  “Oh,” I said with feigned interest. I leaned in as if to get a better look at the weapon.

  The gnome struggled to keep his cloak away from the sword so I could see it. The wind conspired against him and tangled the flapping fabric around his arm.

  “Oops,” I exclaimed and feigned a stumble into the little guy. We tangled together as he tried to push me away and I did everything in my power to look as clumsy and helpless as possible while leaning into him.

  Success! You have picked your target's pocket. You find:

  22 copper pieces

  A silver piece

  One rough-cut agate

  Sneaky, right?

  Loot in place, I let the gnome push me back and got my feet under me again. “I'm so sorry. I'm so clumsy.”

  The gnome brushed himself off and shrugged. “Just watch what you're doing. Last thing I need is a big oaf crushing me.”

  He stomped off and I concealed my grin by pulling my cape up around my face to ward off the cold.

  The grin didn’t last long.

  I did the math and realized, at this rate, I would have to pick a few hundred pockets to get the amount of money I needed. Based on the sample of adventurers I’d seen since I got here, I’d be able to take a shot at one out of every ten leaving the shop.

  This wasn’t going to work.

  I was still trying to make the calculus work on this scheme when I entered the building a few minutes later and found myself face-to-face with a barrel-chested dwarf. His iron-gray beard covered his chest and was tucked into the wide belt wrapped around his bulging belly. “My name's Harker. What are you selling?”

  I fidgeted and tried to look nervous. The dwarf was obviously an NPC, but there were other adventurers in here and I wanted them to see me as a helpless and likable kind of guy. The sort of guy no one would believe was a threat. The guy who was fun to have around.

  “Nothing to sell. I had all my gear stolen by a monster. I don't have a lot of money, and I was hoping you might have some used equipment lying around that I could buy.”

  The dwarf scratched at his beard and squinted at me. “Humph. You’re a little guy, but I might have something light enough for you to carry. Maybe.”

  What is it with NPCs who can’t help but talk down to the heroes? Jerks.

  The dwarf disappeared through a door behind the scarred counter and slammed the door so hard I jumped. The rest of the characters scattered around the inside of the shop laughed.

  ”What's so funny?” I asked the room.

  An elf with hair so tangled it was more knots than strands smiled. “Oh, he's always like that. If anyone asks him to do anything he gets all huffy.”

  “Oh,” I said and did my best to look abashed. “Should I not have done that?”

  The elf shrugged and a twig tumbled out of her tangled mane. She kicked it under the counter with the toe of her moccasin. “I don't think it makes any difference. The Devs like to give NPC's quirky personalities. It makes things more fun, you know?”

  I grinned back at her and nodded. “Yeah, I get it. I think they go a little overboard sometimes, but it adds to the atmosphere.”

  She punched me in the shoulder. “That's right! You get it. A lot of other games don't even try with their NPCs. You walk up to the counter and they shove a list of what they’re selling in your face. And when you go to sell things, it's like, ‘put it in this tray’. Boring.”

  She was right. The few other games I’d dabbled in didn't have this level of interaction with non-player characters. The AI in Dragon Web Online was far more advanced than anything I'd ever seen. Somewhere, probably in an offshore enclave floating off the coast o
f the Philippines, a massive server farm was churning away.

  How much computing power would it take to manage an AI that carried even a basic conversation? There had to be dozens of variables and possible responses to every possible question. Multiply that by the number of characters talking to NPC's in villages and cities all over the Game world and you were looking at millions of operations every microsecond. Crazy.

  Of course, if I'd known then what I know now, it would have made a lot more sense.

  We’ll get to that in a bit.

  The dwarf announced his return with a second slam of the door. He dropped a leather sack on the counter and jabbed a finger in my direction. “Here’s the used crap I've got. None of it’s bigger’n a pocket knife, but that’s all you can handle. Take as much of that junk as you want for 25 coppers. No returns. No exchanges. No warranties.”

  “No customer service,” I whispered.

  The elf next to me exploded in raucous laughter and slapped me on the back. She leaned in and looped her arm over my shoulders and around my neck. “You're a funny guy, guy.”

  I grinned back at her to hide my dismay. She was challenging my expectations about elves. Weren’t they supposed to be elegant and ethereal? Like that queen in that movie about those short dudes with the ring?

  This elf was nothing like that. She had the pointy ears and slender, elongated build, but she also looked like she'd been rolling around in a pile of leaves with a mob of rabid squirrels. Aside from the crazy mound of tangled hair on top of her head, she had streaks of dirt on her face, and her clothes weren’t so much diaphanous as hacked from the bodies of unfortunate animals.

  I decided she was the kind of person it was safer to be friends with. “I try to be amusing. It's really the only strength I got.”

  She laughed again and pawed through the used weaponry on the counter. “You should get a bow. It'll make you look impressive.”

  She hiked a thumb over her shoulder at the recurved horn bow slung across her back. “I mean, who wouldn't want to look like me?”

  Anyone who isn't homeless and likes to get an occasional bath? I thought, but grinned despite myself. She was filthy, stank like week-old laundry, and looked like an old woman who lived under a bridge, but she was confident and didn't care what anyone else thought. There was something to be said for that kind of confidence.

  I picked up the bow she'd pointed out and gave the string a tug. “Hmm. I’m not sure about this. I’m not real coordinated.”

  The dwarf behind the counter guffawed. “Probably shoot your damned eye out.”

  A half-second later the dwarf and I had our jaws hanging open and our eyes bugging from their sockets. A sleek, white arrow pinned the dwarf's hat to the wall behind him.

  The elf leaned on her bow, which I had not even seen her draw. “See? It’s not hard at all. Anyone can do it.”

  “You could have shot him!”

  She leaned over the counter and tugged the arrow from the wall. “Nah. I'm a fine shot. I don't miss.”

  She shoved the arrow back into the quiver hanging from her hip. “I'll give you lessons. You'll be an ace shot in no time.”

  I dug some copper pieces out of my pouch and slapped them on the counter. The dwarf gulped and swept them out of sight with one trembling, meaty hand. “Go ahead and take something else for your trouble,” he said.

  Diplomacy by archery. Maybe I should look into that.

  I found a dagger and scooped it up. It's weight was horrible, and the balance was all wrong, but I didn't plan on using it, anyway. It was just for show, because what adventure in his right mind would turn down a free weapon? The elf smirked at me and threw her arm back over my shoulder. “Come on.”

  She led me out of the shop and I cast a last glance over my shoulder at the door behind the dwarf. I needed to get back here, as soon as possible, but I didn’t want an audience when I returned.

  “What's your name?” the elf asked.

  “Saint,” I said with a sheepish grin.

  “Not after I get done with you.”

  I blushed and she laughed. “My name's Lyr. That’s what my friends call me, anyway.”

  Had I known how much trouble I was going to cause her, I’d have left my new friend alone on the street.

  It would have been better for both of us.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  The elf steered me off the main road, a steady stream of words gushing out of her. “First thing we've got to do is get you some arrows. That bow’s fine and all, but if you’ve got nothing to shoot, what’s the point? Right?”

  “Okay,” I said. I couldn't put my finger on it, but something about Lyr had me on edge. It could just be her devil-may care attitude, or maybe it was the the wild, barbarous fire in her eyes, but I wasn't sure how to deal with her. “Where do we buy arrows?”

  She laughed and slapped me on the shoulder hard enough to make me stumble. “Buying arrows is for suckers.”

  She led me through the village, winding through so many side alleys and taking so many corners I thought she was luring me some place dangerous.

  This is it, she's going to drag me off into the woods and then kill and eat me. That's why I'm nervous, she's not an elf. She’s some kind of tree spirit cannibal woman.

  Imagine my surprise when Lyr didn’t try to murder me. We found our way to a small garden against the village’s west wall. She flopped down under the wide branches of a towering fir tree. The ground around the tree was littered with dead twigs, but there was no snow. I took a seat next to her and pretended not to notice the uncomfortable chill soaking into my backside. No snow didn’t make the ground any warmer. “A picnic?”

  She giggled and shook her head. “Let me show you how to make arrows. Learn this and you’ll never run out of ammo for that dinky little bow of yours.”

  Lyr picked up a branch from the ground and eyeballed it. It didn't look very straight to me, but I was no expert fletcher.

  She handed the stick to me. “Get out that crappy little dagger you got from the pawnshop.”

  She found another branch for herself and drew a small, sharp knife from her belt. “First, peel off all of the bark and the little stubby branches.”

  With a few deft flicks of her wrist, Lyr denuded the branch and trimmed off the thin shoots along its length.

  I followed her example and managed to not cut off a finger or break the branch, but mine was certainly not as smooth nor as cleanly trimmed as hers. “Like this?”

  She pointed out my errors. “Kind of. You're missing a couple of little branches. See? This one here and that one there. You have to remove all the little branches.”

  A minute later, I finished my branch.

  You have acquired one (1) wooden arrow shaft.

  I raised my branch overhead in victory. Then I noticed that in the same time it had taken me to clean one arrow shaft, Lyr had grown a stack of twenty cleaned and trimmed branches on the ground on front of her. She snatched my cleaned twig out of my hand, eyeballed it for a few seconds, then handed it back.

  “Not bad. For a noob.” She grinned. “Now, let’s get some pointy bits on these sticks.”

  Lyr felt through the grass under the tree and came up with a thin stone. She showed it to me and said, “Find one for yourself.”

  SUCCESS! You have learned the rudiments of the Foraging skill. (Rank 1)

  “Nice!” Lyr said, punctuating her encouragement by driving a bony elbow into my ribs. “This is the easy part.”

  She dragged her knife along the stone’s edges for a few seconds and held up a barbed stone arrowhead. It wasn’t fancy, but it looked like it’d get the job done.

  I focused my attention on the stone and went to work on it with my dagger. “Ouch!”

  You knick yourself and suffer 1 point of damage.

  You have acquired one (1) stone arrowhead.

  “Try not to stab yourself,” she said with a giggle. “But that looks good. Some folks will try and convince you to use feathers for
this next part, but there’s no reason to get that fancy. You can use these needles, instead.”

  She scooped up a handful of pine needles from the ground and gestured for me to do the same.

  SUCCESS! You have acquired some pine needles.

  “Okay, now we just put it all together.” Lyr picked up an arrow shaft and the arrowhead she’d made and held them in both hands along with the pine needles. She stared at them for a moment, then blinked and nodded her head.

  When she pulled her hands apart, the raw materials were gone. She showed me the crude arrow she’d created. “Your turn!”

  I mimicked her actions and held all the raw ingredients for an arrow in both hands. Nothing happened for a moment, and then the Game prompted me:

  Do you wish to combine your components?

  YES or NO

  I blinked at the YES option and felt a shifting tingle in my hands.

  SUCCESS! You have learned the rudiments of the Craft: Fletcher skill. (Rank 1)

  You have acquired one (1) crude wooden arrow.

  “Nice!” I showed Lyr my arrow.

  She gave it an admiring once over. Then she pointed at the ground. “You need at least twenty to do any real hunting. Might as well keep at it.”

  I was still gathering and cleaning sticks when Lyr finished making her arrows. She loaded them into her quiver. “Let me help you, or you’ll be here all day.”

  She plucked twigs from the ground with both hands, then turned her blade to stripping and cleaning them. Five minutes later, we had the remaining 19 shafts cleaned and trimmed. Well, she did fifteen and I managed another four in the same time.

  “Thanks, Lyr.” I really meant it. She was going out of her way to show me a skill that would be very useful and hadn’t asked for anything in return. I wasn’t sure how to respond to that kind of selflessness. “You’re the first person I’ve met here who was really helpful.”

  A pale pink blush shone through the smudges of dirt on her cheeks. “You’re welcome.”