Umber’s First Darksday of Harvestfall, 1442, Zephyrdale.
Leoric was at the heart of Zephyrdale, where the voice of countless Wind sylvanis, Pint burrovians and halflings harmonised in a lively, almost musical background noise. He thanked the merchant, slinging his brand new maple bow over his shoulder, and pocketing the few cuprum shards the resale of his starter bow had given him. He turned around and started walking to the city limits, leaving the market behind.
Zephyrdale was the most important city of the Whispering Wilds, but to call it a city was generous. It had a pastoral charm, with small houses nestled in clumps between green rolling hills. Long sinuous stony paths connected each small island together, creating a veritable labyrinth of roads, thankfully all clearly identified on wooden signposts.
From running simple class-training and generic fetch quests all over the sprawling city, Leoric had upgraded every piece of armour to higher-level leather equipment. Just before, he had reached level six as a ranger, which was the minimum level requirement for his first weapon upgrade.
Having played the original incarnation of the game, nearly a decade ago, Leoric remembered your weapon was, pound for pound, the most important piece of equipment to upgrade. He felt no shame spending a couple of cuprum pieces on the weapon when he spotted it at a merchant’s stall. He would earn them back quickly, especially with all the quests he had picked up in the city that asked him to kill critters out in the Whispering Wilds, the zone right outside the city. Quest givers, merchants and guards had marked his map with the approximate location of his various quarry.
He had an assortment of herb-picking quests, animal-slaying quests, delivery runs, escort quests and even a potentially dangerous reconnaissance mission, but he was fairly confident he would complete them all with no trouble. After all, the system marked the highest quest in his journal as level five. That one was sending him to the entrance to Stonereach. Travellers had claimed spotting gnolls sneaking into the peaceful zone. Someone needed to track and hunt them down.
But that was a problem for later. For now, he had a few level one quests to deal with. They would reward him with a pittance in experience points, and similarly, only a few cuprum shards and chips each. Many people would consider them a waste of time, and drop them. Not Leoric, however. He was a completionist and hated the idea of leaving an area until he had seen and explored every nook and cranny. Since he was going to explore the place and comb through the entire zone regardless, he figured he might as well do all the quests en passant. And enough shards eventually added up to a chip, as they said in this world.
But more importantly, Leoric hated the idea of walking away after promising to help someone. The non-player characters he had met in the game so far appeared remarkably lifelike, each with their own unique stories to share. He dreaded the idea of encountering them later and explaining that, no, he actually never delivered the food package to the guards stationed at the watchtower, because upon reflexion, it would not have been worth his while. In most games, abandoning a quest rarely left you with a pang of guilt for the characters involved. But this game felt different—more alive, more real. Perhaps, in time, he would grow blasé to these small choices, treating the world with the same casual detachment as any other. For now, though, he was not ready to let go of the connection it sparked in him.
Leoric let out a long sigh. His mind wandered out of the game and contrasted his current thoughts with his real-world situation. Millions lived in the greater Vancouver area, but so few of them would ever talk to Sophie. Perhaps a nod of acknowledgement, and maybe a conversation if she met someone else on the same hiking trail, going the same direction. But the rest of the time? It was a miserable and lonely existence.
But that life of solitude had actually been a recent development, she reminded herself. Back when she was still with Daniel, she used to see people more often. She often mingled with those who gravitated around him. But all those connections had vanished when she had broken up with him. And now she saw firsthand how the city had earned its reputation. It was notoriously difficult to make friends where she lived, even for those born here. It had not been the case back when she attended school. But as a freelancer and entrepreneur? She had no coworkers, she no longer had teachers, classmates or invitations to events or parties on campus.
Leoric shook his head as he kept walking, trying to rid himself of such depressing thoughts. In this world, everyone had been warm, friendly, and kind. He genuinely wanted to return the favour and help them out.
Leoric took a bite out of some meat jerky as he neared the city threshold. The food had been a reward from a quest he completed earlier. Delivering a butcher’s packages around town had been a cleverly disguised way to teach him the lay of the land. The jerky was salty, and chewy, but was impressively tasty, especially for food you could eat in a video-game. It came as a surprise that you could do this for free inside the game. Sophie, like most people of her generation, had grown used to having to swipe her credit card for the privilege of tasting virtual food.
When his interface popped up, Leoric saw he received a temporary status called “recent fed”. Meat jerky granted him strength, vitality and attack power. His class did not really rely on the first two, but the last one would increase the damage of his arrows, so it was better than nothing. But the real reason he had eaten was to get a small experience boost. It was a benefit gained from eating any kind of food, and that bonus lasted thirty minutes. The game did not actually penalise you for going on an empty stomach. No hunger meter, or starvation status effect. But thanks to the benefit gained from eating, it was still a good idea to do so in this world.
Leoric figured players who tried to optimise their progression would constantly end up eating as they adventured. Depending on their equipment and classes, people would steer toward different food families. Seafood was well-suited for dexterity based classes like ranger. Classes like brutes who relied on their high strength would probably favour red meat. Frozen treats like parfaits granted bonuses to intelligence and spell power. Just like in the real world, brains craved sugary goodness. Leoric chuckled at the image of mages pulling out some frozen yogurt in the middle of dungeons, complaining at sudden brain freezes.
Amused at the thought, his mind wandered again, thinking back on the meal Pipkin treated him at the eatery earlier in the day. The honey-glazed roasted hare and accompanying leaf salad had been sublime. The memories of the airy freshly baked butter leaf rolls almost made him drool, reminding him how they had melted in his mouth. And the sparkling cider had been both refreshing and relaxing.
Leoric honestly wondered if he would ever bother returning to busy virtual food courts for lunch. Why bother, when he could log on to this game and sate his hunger here? Not only would it be economical, the food actually tasted better than almost any virtual food he ever had. The in-game bonuses from refreshing his recently fed status were just icing on the cake. He wondered if the designers had actually factored that in their plans. Leoric idly wondered how long it would take for some players to start video channels dedicated to the gastronomical pleasures found in this game. Just how many people would subscribe and play only for the food? They would have to quest or find some way to get enough money to keep buying food, but in merely a few hours, he already had enough money to feed himself for a month. He chuckled at the idea of a community of gourmets playing together.
As soon as he reached the limits of the city, Leoric readied his bow. Mere meters beyond the gate were herds of fist-sized ladybugs, and they were the first target on his long list.
They were level one, simple enemies, and he was both out-levelling them and over-gearing them significantly. Despite that, he was the type to take every task meticulously and prudently. He snuck closer to the enemies, until he was just in range of a few of them, and activated his camouflage ability.
He had to remain stationary, so it was not as good as the stealth ability from other classes. But any attack from that state would get bonus opening-shot damage to enemies caught unaware. Leoric would not take unnecessary risks just because he was confident.
He nocked an arrow, feeling the familiar pull in his shoulder as the bowstring tightened, the tension of the maple wood bow bending slightly different from his previous bow. It would take some time getting used to it. He aimed for the closest ladybug, holding his breath. His entire focus was now locked on the creature, and he started predicting its movements, waiting for the perfect time… Now! He released the arrow with practiced ease. The arrow flew straight and true, a soft hiss in the air before the tiny thud of impact. The arrow impaled the creature, killing it on the spot.
“Four to go.”This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Leoric kept at it, dropping the creatures using the same tactic, flawless victories one after the other. He knew that was hardly a fair way to fight, but he did not feel the need to defeat enemies in an honourable manner. If trickery and preparation got you the win in a risk-free manner, then that was the preferable solution in his mind.
When the quest update signalled he was done with this task, he stood back up and went to claim the spoils of battle, the bodies of his targets quickly dissipating away. An alchemist in town had asked to bring back the fine, glistening powder that stuck to their wings. So Leoric kneeled down next to each target and harvested as much as he could into a small transparent container provided for this task. Even after five kills, it only amounted to a few millimetres’ worth of the powder. He shrugged. He did not know why the alchemist needed this ladybug dust, nor what it did. But that did not matter to him. He had agreed to help.
This reminded Leoric of the small, odd jobs Sophie sometimes agreed to take on. Not every project she worked on had taken months to design or had paid a lot, but the joy on her clients’ face when she delivered what they asked for was often reward enough. Leoric hoped he would feel the same way here, when he returned later with an entire journal filled with completed quests.
He pulled out his map and set out to the closest marker. He was supposed to locate some herbs for the innkeeper, who needed to restock for her cooking. She had promised him one of her specialty dish in exchange. The promise of getting some home-made cooking was all the motivation Leoric needed.
As he folded his map and returned it to the pocket in his pants, he suddenly tensed, weapon at the ready, one hand slowly bringing an arrow to his bowstring. Seconds ago, he heard a strange laughter and metallic rustle carried by the wind. The laughter had a hint of danger and cruelty to it, something that made it feel distinctly out of place in this area. He squinted in the direction the sound came from, but nothing seemed out of place. No movement. No hiding spot that he could see. Had it been a trick of his mind? He kept his ears perked, ready to locate the source of the sound, but there was nothing but the wind.
Leoric hesitated. He did not know what exactly made him feel this uneasy, but if there was an actual threat here, he hated the idea of letting it wander and prey on easier targets. Leoric frowned, determined. He should handle it before moving on.
But despite his resolution, he could detect no further movement or sound. He relaxed his guard and returned his arrow to his quiver after more than a minute of sustained silence. He let out the breath he did not realise he had been holding and shook his head.
“Must have been the wind,” he said, half-jokingly.
Leoric snickering at the silliness of it all; he had just acted exactly like the dumb guards from video games. The ones who would abandon the chase mere seconds after you murdered someone right in front of them. But no matter how silly he felt, he could not shake the feeling of imminent danger.
Leoric let out a sigh. He would just have to keep his eyes peeled for trouble.
He resumed his walked to the area where he would find the herbs, but his bunny ears twitched again, caching sound of the whispering winds that gave the area their name. It was subtle, almost like voices threading through the gusts, as if the wind itself was trying to tell him something. A soft pull tugged at his senses, urging him off the marked path, suggesting that there was something waiting for him. Something to find, if only he agreed to stray. He felt the temptation, a brief flicker of curiosity, but shook it off. It was difficult to resist, his body conditioned to listen, fashioned to heed the call of the wind. No! Don’t get side-tracked. Leoric had charted his course and mapped out his itinerary. He could not afford to wander or let the whispers tempt him off his path.
“Not now, Zephyra.”
He kept moving towards to his destination, a sparsely forested area sitting by a running stream, feeling the stern disapproval of the winds as he did. Leoric chuckled, imagining the face of the whimsical goddess’ anger as he denied her capricious wishes and dismissed her divine messenger. But goddess or not, he would not let her steer him away from his set path that easily.
Walking between the trees, Leoric kept his gaze to the ground, looking for the herb in question: marjoram. The innkeeper mentioned needing dried marjoram for her recipes. Magical and alchemical means to speed up the process of drying the herbs were common, or so she had told him while stirring some stew in a pot.
Leoric knelt down, having found what he was looking for, and carefully started harvesting the plant, but his ears twitched once more. That same cruel laughter carried by the wind. It was closer this time. He looked in the direction the sound had come from, but he could see nothing. Slowly, he stood up and took a few steps backwards until his back rested against a tree. He once again nocked an arrow on his bowstring and closed his eyes. He would have to rely on his ears for whatever this was. The thing prowling around seemed to be skilled at hiding itself, but not as skilled at moving silently.
Leoric steadied his breath and focused.
Come on, whatever you are. Make some noise again.
But the only sound he heard was the whispers of the wind, pulling him to take a few steps to his left, gently guiding him.
This time, he let the winds act as his guide. He took agonisingly slow steps, taking slow, careful steps as he navigated blindly in the darkness with only the faint whispers of the wind as a guide. His footsteps were light as a feather, and he thanked his leather armour for not creaking loudly.
The winds quieted themselves, and Leoric stopped. He was sure he was still pointing vaguely in the direction that the odd laughter had come from mere moments ago. The hair on the back of his back told him that whatever was the source of the noise, it would act soon. He felt sweat beading on his forehead. He pulled the arrow into position, ready to release it at a moment’s notice, reminded once again of the different feel of his new bow’s tension.
He kept scanning the forest for movement with his ears. Nothing. He could ear the sound of the trees swaying, the leaves rustling, the water flowing in the nearby creek. He held his breath; the silence pressing down on him, the tension mounting, becoming almost palpable.
Then it happened. There! Dead ahead! He heard it again, the faintest sound of metal rustling, and that strange laughter, barely audible, but just enough! Leoric opened his eyes and adjusted his aim. He let his arrow fly. It hissed as it flew and impacted in a splatter of blood against the ground.
And that was when he finally noticed it. A figure so perfectly camouflaged against the forest floor that he would have missed it entirely if not for the sounds and the guidance of the winds. It yelped as the arrow dug into its hidden flesh. The creature stood up in anger. A gnoll! A truly frightful sight; seven feet of snarling muscle and sharp teeth. It held a wicked scimitar in one hand. It gleamed in the fading light as its owner let out a hyena-like laugh, its eyes locked on Leoric. With how close it was to the ranger, merely a few steps, it knew it had the advantage.
What was that gnoll doing here? They were far too powerful for this zone, and so close to the city! Leoric was practically still at the entrance of Zephyrdale!
The gnoll snarled and charged in his direction, raising its scimitar high in the air. Leoric did not wait. He fired an arrow, and then a second one while backpedalling. Both found their target, landing good but not decisive hits in the gnoll’s chest. The creature did not slow down and merely howled, laughing as it snapped both arrows with its free hand.
“Damn, you’re tough!”
Leoric rolled out of the way of the scimitar’s swing, activating his Rolling Shot ability, firing an arrow as he rolled to safety. The fourth arrow found its way into the creature’s chest, but it showed no sign of slowing down.
Having gained some distance, Leoric drew another arrow and activated his Shadow Bind skill, enchanting this arrow not to deal damage, but to immobilise the creature by pinning its shadow. The creature laughed and looked at Leoric with a perplexed expression when the arrow flew harmlessly to its side. But it soon howled in fury when it realised it could not take a single step closer to the ranger.
Leoric drew another arrow and nocked it. He took a long breath, and then aimed at the creature’s head, drawing the bowstring as he activated his Vital Shot skill. This was an attack that dealt extra damage if it hit a weak spot. Leoric was fairly sure the head was a vulnerable area, even for gnolls.
The creature growled loudly and hissed, spitting blood as it used its left hand to pull the latest arrows that were stuck in its chest. It let out this a slow, guttural laugh, a promise of pain to come once it would be free. The creature was clearly confident in its ability to deal with him as soon as the bound status effect wore off—which would be in a few seconds, or at the next attack, whichever came first.
Leoric, however, was pretty sure this was the end. Every arrow he had landed had shaved close to twenty percent of the creature’s health, and he was about to release his deadliest attack yet.
“Boom, headshot. You lose,” Leoric said, letting the arrow fly.
In a bloody mess, it dug its way through the creature’s jaw and escaped through the back of its skull, forever silencing the abomination.
“[Elite Quest] Hunt down the gnoll spies 1/3.”
Leoric finally gasped for air, the panic that he had been holding back the entire battle finally catching up to him.
Too freaking close. Leoric was not sure how many hits of that scimitar he could have endured. Luckily, he avoided any damage by the clever use of his class abilities. It almost felt like someone specifically meant to test the mastery of his abilities as a ranger.
The quest report stated it was an elite monster, which certainly explained why it took so much effort to kill it. Nothing in his journal had hinted this was a party quest, however. Leoric figured the designers must have intended it for solo players.
And he had done it. He had killed an elite enemy by himself and detected it while it was skulking about. That was exactly the thrill he had dreamed of when he picked his class.
He could not wait until his bag of tricks grew even further. This is promising!
“You have reached level seven for the Ranger class.”
By the time he found the remaining two gnoll spies, Leoric figured he would hit level eight.
He wondered how many people left this zone without ever encountering any of them. He double-checked his log, curious about the quest reward.
Ah, of course. A ghillie cloak. Such a perfect reward for a ranger, and fitting so well with the enemies you have to defeat to get it.
Once again, Leoric wondered how many people would skip or completely miss that quest. He metaphorically patted himself on the back. Being a completionist and perfectionist had its own rewards!