Read Online Massively Multiplayer by P. Aaron Potter - Free Book Online
Authors: P. Aaron Potter
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the Grinning Pumpkin tavern.
"Druin, there you are. Did you go shopping without me?"
"I wish." He quickly outlined his experiences since logging in, and the task which Gil had set for him.
When he had finished, Wisefellow was shaking his head sadly. "You have a knack for making enemies, my friend. So, Gil has not yet forgiven you for our failure in the Great Swamp Trek."
"Why does everyone keep calling it a failure? Gil went up a circle, so did you and so did Evil Albert. Where's the failure? Nobody thought we were going to clear the bloodsuckers out of the Swamp in one trip anyway!"
"That is true, but Gil still blames you. Perhaps he would have blamed you for something even if we had succeeded. But even that is not the extent of your troubles."
Druin's stomach sank. "What now?"
"I'm afraid Uriah did not survive our encounter with the sea-trolls. NPC undertakers carried his body back to the Inn where he lives, but the trolls had looted his corpse of his armor, his weapons, everything he carried. And, I am further sorry to say, he has dropped a full level, back down to the seventh circle..."
Druin groaned and buried his face in his hands.
"...And he blames you."
Druin began banging his head repeatedly against the table. "Why, why, why, why, why..." he chanted.
Wisefellow placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Look on the bright side. As he has dropped a full circle in rank, he'll have a harder time killing you."
Somehow this failed to improve Druin's mood. Wisefellow tried another tack.
"Perhaps your leaving town right away is not such a bad thing after all? You can avoid Uriah while he gets over his anger, and mollify Gil at the same time." He raised his finger as an other thought occurred to him. "In fact, the reward which Gil is offering could help you pay for new armor and weapons for Uriah! Yes, you could pledge some portion of the gold -- say, a third of it -- to Uriah upon completion of your task."
Druin peeked up through slotted fingers. "Do you really think that would work?"
"I am certain it would help. You could leave town at once, and I can tell him about your bargain. By the time you return, he'll be ready to forgive you, I'm sure of it."
Druin's face brightened. "Hey, that should work. Great thinking, Wise'."
"And besides," Wisefellow continued eagerly, "if you fail, Uriah will still be pleased that, at the very least, you are dead!"
Druin's face fell. He resumed banging his head upon the table.
Chapter Four – Dress-up
The napkins were spotless linen. The silverware was gleaming sterling. There were actual candles in the ornate candlesticks, not simply holograms. Wolfgang Wallace was vaguely apprehensive about this last item. Wasn’t there some sort of regulation against open flames or something? If there weren’t there ought to be. In his opinion it was an effort wasted on the majority of tonight’s guests anyway, who were mostly programmers who might have admired a particularly well designed holographic candle, but who would be just as indifferent to the real thing as they would be to the elegance implied by authentic silver, or authentic linen.
Still, Mr. Calloway’s instructions had been quite specific. Whether the ostentatious display was meant to cow his subjects, to impress his guests, or merely as another archaic gesture, was not Wolfgang’s concern. His concern was to make certain that the programming division arrived on time and cleanly dressed, no mean feat when it came to the notoriously sloppy habits of most of his subordinates. He’d be lucky if one of them didn’t knock over the candles and burn the place down around their ears.
And here came his motley crew now: a small band of men and women were shuffling out of the elevators, blinking owlishly in the candlelight. Most had remembered and obeyed Wallace’ instructions regarding semi-formal attire, although he noticed that Yeardley, from interface development, was clad in tan shorts and a T-shirt
"Druin, there you are. Did you go shopping without me?"
"I wish." He quickly outlined his experiences since logging in, and the task which Gil had set for him.
When he had finished, Wisefellow was shaking his head sadly. "You have a knack for making enemies, my friend. So, Gil has not yet forgiven you for our failure in the Great Swamp Trek."
"Why does everyone keep calling it a failure? Gil went up a circle, so did you and so did Evil Albert. Where's the failure? Nobody thought we were going to clear the bloodsuckers out of the Swamp in one trip anyway!"
"That is true, but Gil still blames you. Perhaps he would have blamed you for something even if we had succeeded. But even that is not the extent of your troubles."
Druin's stomach sank. "What now?"
"I'm afraid Uriah did not survive our encounter with the sea-trolls. NPC undertakers carried his body back to the Inn where he lives, but the trolls had looted his corpse of his armor, his weapons, everything he carried. And, I am further sorry to say, he has dropped a full level, back down to the seventh circle..."
Druin groaned and buried his face in his hands.
"...And he blames you."
Druin began banging his head repeatedly against the table. "Why, why, why, why, why..." he chanted.
Wisefellow placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Look on the bright side. As he has dropped a full circle in rank, he'll have a harder time killing you."
Somehow this failed to improve Druin's mood. Wisefellow tried another tack.
"Perhaps your leaving town right away is not such a bad thing after all? You can avoid Uriah while he gets over his anger, and mollify Gil at the same time." He raised his finger as an other thought occurred to him. "In fact, the reward which Gil is offering could help you pay for new armor and weapons for Uriah! Yes, you could pledge some portion of the gold -- say, a third of it -- to Uriah upon completion of your task."
Druin peeked up through slotted fingers. "Do you really think that would work?"
"I am certain it would help. You could leave town at once, and I can tell him about your bargain. By the time you return, he'll be ready to forgive you, I'm sure of it."
Druin's face brightened. "Hey, that should work. Great thinking, Wise'."
"And besides," Wisefellow continued eagerly, "if you fail, Uriah will still be pleased that, at the very least, you are dead!"
Druin's face fell. He resumed banging his head upon the table.
Chapter Four – Dress-up
The napkins were spotless linen. The silverware was gleaming sterling. There were actual candles in the ornate candlesticks, not simply holograms. Wolfgang Wallace was vaguely apprehensive about this last item. Wasn’t there some sort of regulation against open flames or something? If there weren’t there ought to be. In his opinion it was an effort wasted on the majority of tonight’s guests anyway, who were mostly programmers who might have admired a particularly well designed holographic candle, but who would be just as indifferent to the real thing as they would be to the elegance implied by authentic silver, or authentic linen.
Still, Mr. Calloway’s instructions had been quite specific. Whether the ostentatious display was meant to cow his subjects, to impress his guests, or merely as another archaic gesture, was not Wolfgang’s concern. His concern was to make certain that the programming division arrived on time and cleanly dressed, no mean feat when it came to the notoriously sloppy habits of most of his subordinates. He’d be lucky if one of them didn’t knock over the candles and burn the place down around their ears.
And here came his motley crew now: a small band of men and women were shuffling out of the elevators, blinking owlishly in the candlelight. Most had remembered and obeyed Wallace’ instructions regarding semi-formal attire, although he noticed that Yeardley, from interface development, was clad in tan shorts and a T-shirt
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