HC: Pacifist | Ch. 197 - Summon
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The meeting point for the expedition was a very small town with wooden sheds built along the river. There was a rudimentary harbor with boats tied along the piers, if they could be called that. To Roth, they looked like wooden planks barely kept together with ropes. Strangely, he saw no fishermen or NPCs out in the river. Perhaps it was a fisherman thing; Roth recalled it was better to fish at night.
The town itself was a much poorer version of Hilsford, having only one stone building: the town hall. The hall's design reminded him of the auction houses of Greensburg and Hilsford as if they had been designed by the same architect. All the other buildings were built from wood. The town was between a beginner village and a mid-tiered city, though leaning much more heavily toward the first. It was much bigger than beginner villages and had some visible improvements; for example, instead of dirt roads, there was cobblestone and pavement. Contrary to the unprotected beginner villages, a wooden palisade around town offered some protection.
He followed the empty main street, wondering where everyone was, and followed BlueFire’s instructions, heading toward the hill overseeing the fishing town. As he reached the foot of the hill, three rogues appeared out of thin air.
Roth had assumed that his perception was high enough not to be caught off-guard, but he had no clue they were there. Lua, too, was caught by surprise and stood on her hind legs, ready to fight or run. Roth tried to calm her down while studying the ambushers. They had very high-end equipment, and looking at them, Roth felt the hair on the back of his neck prick. These weren’t pushovers. They were powerful rogues and had to have very high subterfuge to hide so well.
"Who goes there?" asked one of the rogues that had appeared in his rear.
"Hi, I'm Pax. BlueFire is expecting me," Roth replied.
"So, you’re the troublesome one?" the frontman said good-humoredly. "Follow after me," he added. Roth hopped off Lua.
It looked like Pax's playstyle and movements had been noticed by the other players in the Ogre’s guild. Roth unmounted and pulled Lua gently by the reins toward the hill, wondering what gossip the Ogres had on him.
"Nice mount you got there," remarked one of the thieves walking alongside him. "What grade is it?" he asked.
"Oh, she's an E plus,"
"Okay, cool," he said halfheartedly. He seemed slightly disappointed with the grade. It looked like he had been expecting something juicer than a measly E plus. Roth didn’t bother to explain that she was hurt and that he didn’t know her true grade yet. As Drake constantly reminded him, divulging one’s secrets to the first person who asked was bad policy.
Only when they were almost in the tent did Roth finally see the structure. The Ogres had set up a military-style tent with cameo patterns that helped break its shape against the background of the forested hill. Even with his enhanced vision, he couldn’t spot it until it was right under his nose. He could see several players behind the tent and hidden behind the trees, but after his previous experience with the three invisible rogues, he was sure that there were many more lurking about, hidden by [Camouflage].
Summon!
Roth then experimented with the basic skill that Lua had come with and watched her disappear into a puff of smoke. It wasn't among the most realistic things that this game had. The game lore didn't explain where the mounts went and where they returned from. They just disappeared and appeared for the sake of a player's convenience. He wasn’t complaining. The game was complex enough, and he thanked the developers for making players' lives easier in this regard.
In AstroTerra, the trickier things to manage were energy depletion caused by running and the weight-carrying limit imposed by the system. There were games where one had to satiate hunger, sleep, and maintain and repair equipment, but as far as Roth could tell, these factors were simplified in this game.
Roth followed the rogue toward the tent's entrance, and he gasped as he realized that the other two rogues had vanished without him even noticing. The rogue smirked, seeing Roth’s startled expression, and gestured for him to enter the tent.
“Here’s your stop, chief.”
“Thank you,” said Roth.
As Roth entered the tent, he was surprised by its size. It looked like it could only accommodate ten people from the outside, but there were at least 50 inside. The difference between his guess and the construction’s actual size made him wonder if there was some kind of spatial distortion technology at play here or if it was the result of the optical illusion created by the cameo pattern on the tent that made it look much smaller than it was.
Roth studied the crowd, chatting and laughing inside the tent. The scene reminded him of the bidders at the auction for his life who had mingled and chatted amongst themselves after finishing negotiating Roth’s life. The memory made his face twitch, but his admiration pushed the annoyance out of his mind. This was the most impressive array of high-end equipment he'd seen in the game.
Mighty warriors wore sets of golden, intricately carved suits of armor, while espers sported floating, regal, shiny robes. Every axe, spear, and quarterstaff in the room looked like the stuff of legends. Roth, who had felt extremely cool after this last makeover of his equipment, flushed embarrassedly. He was the shabbiest person in the tent by a mile.
Roth spotted the yellow feathers of Goldie, Mel’s hawk. Even though he couldn’t see Mel, the hawk enjoyed being perched on her shoulder, and its head was slightly higher than the group of players that mingled and talked, allowing him to know she was there too. He felt his mouth go dry. The last time he’d seen the girl, he had scolded her so hard that, despite the messages of apology they’d exchanged, running into her would be awkward. As he pondered whether he should go and say hello, someone touched Roth’s shoulder.
"Look who it is," greeted Manny, wearing the same equipment that he'd seen him wearing at the auction.
"Hello, Manny."
“There's someone I want you to meet," he said, disappearing into the crowd and returning with a kid. The boy looked around 14 or 15, but despite his young age, Roth could tell he was a seasoned player. The reason was simple: he wore one of the most beautiful suits of armor Roth had ever seen. The red armor had a wolf carved into the chest piece with two shiny eyes. Under closer inspection, he could see that the shiny eyes were, in reality, two shiny chips. He also had a bow on his back, marking him as a ranger or an archer. It was the first time Roth saw a bow in the game.
"So, this is the Pax fella I told you about. Pax, I want you to meet our guild leader; this is Cerberus," the man introduced.
Roth greeted Cerberus respectfully, “Nice to meet you, sir.” In gaming, age didn’t matter. Level and stats spoke louder, and he dared not be disrespectful toward this young man. If anything, his age only made Roth respect him more. For someone to lead such a powerful guild at such a tender age spoke for their ability.
"You're the one who made BlueFire dance on the palm of your hand and the one who knows the Tree Hunter?" Cerberus asked.
Roth replied, "I guess so.”
“I suppose you don’t have any more clues about how I can find the black panther,” the young man tried.
“Not at the moment. But if I run into Shadow again, I’ll give you a call,” Roth promised.
The boy's eyebrows shot up, questioning, "Shadow?"
“The panther. Shadow. That’s his name.”
"Really? That's interesting.”
“You didn't know?”
“No," Cerberus replied. “Doing this quest, I’ve run into myths describing the tree hunter, and they do refer to it as the shadow that hunts in the night, but I never assumed that was his name.”
The conversation was interrupted when a man as big as Roth entered the tent and possessively put his arm around Roth’s shoulder. "So, this is the little fella that has cost me a bucket load of money," the man greeted.
“Ogre,” greeted Manny respectfully.
“Hello, sir,” said Cerberus.
“Manny. Cerberus. Welcome. You couldn’t be headhunting one of my new acquisitions under my own roof, could you?” he said with a predatory grin.
“Not at all. Just making small talk,” answered Cerberus respectfully. “Anyway, nice to meet you, Pax.” The pair walked away, leaving Roth alone with the leader of the Ogre guild.
Roth estimated the man's age to be around 35 to 40. He had spiky hair and exuded joviality and energy. He wore a massive sword on his back and a sleeveless chest piece, leaving his arms uncovered with only metal bands on his wrists. He looked like a drawn blade: sharp, dangerous, and ready to go.
“Hello, Roth,” he greeted in a pleasant baritone.
“Sir. Nice to meet you. Thank you for taking my family in.”
“It’s not like I had much of a choice,” he complained. “You’ve made quite the impression with BlueFire and Cyclops. I can see why. You seem to be a trouble magnet,” he said, turning to look in the direction where Cerberushad left. “What did Cerberus want?”
“Just some help with a quest he has,” answered Roth truthfully.
“I beg your pardon? Cerberus, the boy genius, wants your help with a quest?”
Seeing Ogre’s baffled look, Roth decided to surf the wave. “Yeah… I just threw him a bone, but can’t really be bothered with it. So busy these days. But if you ever need help with one of your quests, please come to me, too, sir. I’ll free some time from my busy schedule,” he said, winking.
Ogre was completely thrown away by Roth’s proposition and confidence, eyeing him suspiciously, trying to figure out whether he was speaking the truth. “Thanks,” he said awkwardly. He looked around and dismissed the conversation. “It’s time to get the meeting started. I’ll see you around, Roth.”
“My pleasure, sir.”
The man walked away, leaving Roth alone to ponder over his encounter with BlueFire’s boss. As a former merc leader, he’d met several guild leaders, and they could easily be placed in two categories. Tacticians and generals. Tactician types managed the guild from behind the scenes but left the frontline to their subordinates, as Loki did. Then, there were talented, charismatic fighters who led the charge. Ogre was definitely the latter. How heavily he seemed to depend on BlueFire only added to his judgment.
"Ladies and gentlemen, the meeting is about to begin," he heard a familiar feminine voice say. He followed the turning heads of the crowd and identified the person who spoke as Cyclops, one of the generals of the Ogres. She didn’t have the same easy-going disposition he’d seen in the auction. She looked like a drill sergeant putting the barracks in line.
The table at the tent's center wasn’t big enough to accommodate everyone. Only about ten people sat down, and seeing Ogre and BlueFire and Cerberus and Manny among those sitting down, he guessed that those at the table were guild leaders and their trusted aides. As the crowd shuffled and everyone found a place, Roth felt something heavy land on his shoulder.
“Goldie! Come back here!” He heard Mel say in a judgmental whisper as she pushed through the crowd. Once she saw Roth, she froze. The bird just ignored her and rubbed his head against Roth.
“Sqwak, squawk, chirp,” greeted Roth amicably.
“Chirp, chirp,” answered the hawk.
A few murmurs around Roth made him realize that other people were commenting and pointing at him. He flushed and, clearing his throat, turned to Mel. Seeing how the hawk’s owner seemed to have become made of stone, Roth sighed and tried to be nice. “Hey, Mel.”
“Hi.”
Roth offered his arm to Goldie, who climbed down from his shoulder onto his arm, and he then stretched it toward Mel. “Lost something?” he joked.
She smiled. “Thanks.”
Cyclops clapped her hands a few times, interrupting their awkward exchange. “The strategy meeting for the hunt of the Alien King is about to begin.”
Comments
Thank you for the chapter!
Preizy
2024-01-23 07:06:38 +0000 UTCYou're welcome! Thank you for reading, friend.
Cássio Ferreira
2024-01-22 15:14:06 +0000 UTCTftc!
brennon Petersen
2024-01-22 15:04:46 +0000 UTC