Private - Stocking Up

Supposedly, the land was in the middle of a war. Or, perhaps they were preparing to be in the middle of the war. The Doomsayer NPC standing on the corner of the bazaar kept mixing his words. One minute, the end was here and they should all pray to Elysid for their souls; the next minute he was barking at people to join the military and protect this land from the invaders. Emil couldn’t help but roll his eyes. He thought the devs clever and inventive so the coding belonging to this piece of shit had to be an intern or something. How did one submit a bug report in this game, anyway?

He turned on his heel and began to wander down the street, the shrill voice of the Doomsayer clashing against his back. Instead, he turned his attention to the smells and sounds before him, the bazaar section of the city. Here, people continued to hawk their wares to players and NPCs that strolled down the cobblestone street. Some were situated in wooden popup shops while others seemed to have actual business fronts that an employee stood in front of and offered up samples.

Emil waved off a few of these NPCs that tried to shove samples in his face. Sure, they smelled amazing, but he was here for something else. Something that would help him in this upcoming war if he decided to participate. He certainly couldn’t attend such a grand event in just his newbie starting clothes. He glanced down at the requisite white tunic and grey breeches with a disgusted sneer before shaking his head and ducking into the nearest clothing shop.

Apparently, there were other players that had the same idea. The place was full of people; skinny, fat, tall and small, humans and elves and Faerin, all shapes, sizes, colors, and smells. Upcoming closer inspection, Emil was pretty sure that there were some vet players here, trying to haggle, he assumed, for a lower price on some exquisite gear. Hm, something to that degree was outside of his wallet’s capabilities…

Pardon me, he murmured, picking a person at random that was nearest to him and seemed mostly unoccupied. Might I inquire where the, ah, lower level items may be purchased for a magic user such as myself?​

 

"It has been carried from a far off land. You will not find anything like it anywhere else."

What about the far away land where you found it? But Magdalyn merely smiled, and accepted the bag of assorted woodchips, herbs, and flowers that was offered to her. With the small, felt package balanced between her two cupped hands, she brought it to her face, and inhaled deeply. Terra's version of potpourri, she deduced. And it smelled a little bit like the Black Ice air freshener that her high school boyfriend had been so fond of. She imagined the little Christmas tree shaped freshner dangling from the review mirror of the Ford truck as she handed the parcel back. "Very nice," Magdalyn lied, her smiled as forced as her words. "But I think I'll have to pass, for now." When the saleswoman insisted, she added, "I'll come back later."

So she bid the elderly NPC farewell, wondering if it was wrong to feel guilty for lying to a fictional being. The woman was just data, after all, and it was not as if she did not give pushy salespeople in the mall the same promise. Maybe it was wrong, but was it as wrong as being rude?

She was turning the question over in her mind when a stranger approached. "Hm?" came her distracted murmur, as she attempted to decipher his question. Leave it to her to be lost in thought when someone needed her. "Oh, I'm afraid I don't know."

It was always a bit difficult to determine if an individual was a player or an AI, so she proceeded carefully. Her intention was not to upset any NPCs, if it so happened this man was one. But his reference to 'low level items' suggested he was like her. "I'm brand new, actually, and this is my first time here. I'd be happy to look with you, if you'd like. I could probably stand to pick up some gear myself."

 

Aalam was investigating a set of arrows that was laid out on one of the stalls it seems that the man that was trying to sell him the equipment fancied himself a hunter or an archer of sorts. Well if his arrowhead was any indication of what type of archer he was then a poor one was the best he could call him. After close inspection of the heads, he could tell it was just bronze covered in steel; the heads wouldn’t stand up to any great activity. The shaft was poorly affixed to the arrowhead there was a chance that it could come off in mid-flight, the fletching which was supposed to be made of swan feather was from the average pigeon and a few look improperly attached. All in all, it was shoddy work, and they're not worth his time or his gold. Slinging his bow across his back and leaving the man without a word just throwing the arrows back onto the table, the street was still full with other selling he would have a better chance elsewhere. As he walked down the street people called to him offering to sell him this, and that so professed a miracle cure to any poison that might enter the blood, others were selling a spell to protect the home from the mad king and his invaders. It was a particular type of madness people were scared so they believed something that they would have never thought in times of peace and others were taking advantage of the fact that they were scared. It was saddening, but at least some people were still offering quality good, but those goods were not discounted for wartime prices. So most passed them by grabbing as many cheap items as possible thinking that they were getting a better deal, shame that wasn’t the case.

So he decided that he was going to wait and see what people did leaning against a post, watching the crowd. It was the best way to tell who was worth the time and those that weren’t. As he watched he saw enough people get ripped off but it seemed the two players were able to see through the scam, he would have chalked it up to experience, but their equipment was clean it was a low quality that was for certain. So it wasn’t an experience in the game but just common sense well that was refreshing for nothing else, He knew that the Duke would get a kick out of that common sense from players. However, while they had managed to avoid the trap, they still need equipment if they were to survive this war and if nothing else he should help them because they had common sense. Making his way through the crowd weaving in and out until he was just behind the pair, close enough to hear that they were looking for some new gear. Yes, they had sense indeed, clearing his throat to grab their attention. “I might be able to help with that, I know of a few shops that sell decent gear and a few of these stalls are not terrible.”

 

He was a fool if he had thought she was some regular old NPC. She was as tall as he, a feat that he hadn’t seen since he started the game, and she had the unmistakable look of someone who had probably spent a lot of time in character customization. Perhaps he was projecting that part considering he had spent over an hour on his hair alone. Nevertheless, a smile temped his lips as the woman spoke. Emil was quick to nod his head, eager, seemingly, to draw her into a conversation.

I would be so lucky to have you accompany me on such a mundane task, Emil murmured in reply. He extended his hand in greeting, intending on doing the regal thing and kiss her knuckles should she grant him hers. Emil Trevelyan and might I say that it is a pleasure to meet another new player such as yourself.

Perhaps he would have said something else, commented on her attire or beauty or even asked how she was enjoying her time within TerraSpehere, but the sound of someone clearing their throat had Emil turning toward the noise and arching an eyebrow. He was prepared to tell them to go around or buzz off, but upon hearing that this new person knew where to buy equipment appropriate for their level, the spell-slinger could only nod.

Though I cannot speak for the lady, I would be in your debt if you would either point me in that direction or escort us there. He glanced between them both before giving a small shrug. To be completely honest, I am here on the off chance that there are sales due to the chaos of the coming invasion. People go crazy during wartime, or so history has mentioned time and time again.

 

The dazzling smile took her by surprise. In her experience, other players were rarely so pleasant from the get-go, many opting for more formal, rigid greetings. Though she wondered why exactly that was (perhaps general social awkwardness, or unease within the game itself), it was a common theme among new acquaintances. Or, at least, those she had met thus far.

She moved to press her palm to his, returning the handshake that added to his charm. When he swept her hand forward, pressing his soft lips delicately to her fingers, there was no stopping the warmth in her cheeks. But her smile, wide and genuine, spoke only of happiness. Even her eyes. the same shade of blue as her long hair, shimmered with the expression of joy. "Well," she drawled, "you're pretty good at hellos, Emil Trevelyan. My name is Magdalyn Rose, but you're welcome to just call me Mags." New player, eh? Well, at least that confirmed that he was indeed a fellow adventurer, and not an NPC. After the showy greeting, there really should have been no question. But it was good to know for sure./

The appearance of the second player snapped her back to the present, and away from her fascination with this Emil person. "I'd definitely appreciate it," she told him. "All of my gear is trash, and I guess I should change that if I want to help out in this war." In regards to Emil's comment, she gave a small nod, and motioned to their surroundings. "Leave it to a war to stimulate the economy. Its like America in World War II all over again."

 

Aalam stood by watching the two get more familiar with each other well that was nice to see they would need someone to rely on when this war got bad. Too many made the mistake that thinking since you were a player that it somehow equal immortality, it did not we could still die the only difference is that we could come back. With thing slowly become what they were they would need each other and well proper gear if they wanted to be effective. The girl she had a strong built and a steady stance he feet were shoulder length apart and heels planted. She expected to have to stop someone from moving her, so heavy fighter. Properly something with length and a weight behind it, she was built like a fighter almost like Lord Seto. The boy was the complete opposite light on his feet his finger was always moving never still. However it was different from a thief there was a pattern he didn’t watch the corners and the shadows …damn he was a mage. Useful but find equipment for them was always so much more difficult, the likely hood they would find something to suit his need here were small to nonexistent.

“You both either need a combination of weapons and amours, she’ll have a bit of protection with the cloak, but that’s it if an arrow was to hit her in the chest she would be quite dead, or if it comes to close combat again dead. You, however, seem to have a bit of offense but not a piece of armor to compensate so that you might get off a few attacks there your dead. Follow me we need to get to look individual stalls; we're going to have to work this piece by piece. First, you miss you a proper weapon then we get you both fitted for amour.”

Walking towards on the stalls he was pushed further into a side alley by the new vendors, he knew the man that worked here his stuff might not have been the cleanest, but they were still well maintained. All his weapons had seen use at one point or the other but they still remained in good condition. Waving the others over she would pick something and if it was decent he would let her buy it. While it might have been easier to choose for her a weapon was something that needed to feel right in each player induvial hands.

 

Lady Rose. How beautiful.

It was the last thing Emil had the chance to say before they new found friend began to evaluate them piece by piece. Yes, he knew that if he were in a battle face to face with an opponent, he would most certainly die. That was the reason for this whole excursion to begin with. Granted, he didn’t honestly think he’d find anything for him; magic was looked down at in this world and he was, of course, a magic user.

Had he skill with needle and thread like his sister in law, he would have made himself something instead of spending hard earned gold. It wouldn’t have been amazing, threadbare at best, but it would grant him more defensive stats than the little bit of nothing he was currently wearing.

You seem to know your way around these stalls, dear friend, Emil murmured in a conversational tone, his words rolling from his tongue with ease and familiarity. How long have you been playing TerraSphere if you don’t mind me asking? He paused, looking him over from behind him and canted his head to the side in question. Might you be a martial fighter like Lady Rose?

He paused again, thoughtfully, before he turned his one good eye towards the woman in the party. What do you believe would a proper weapon for one such as yourself, Lady Rose?​

 

He knows his stuff, Magdalyn mused appreciatively. The stranger tackled their search in an efficient, no-nonsense fashion that made her smile. She had been content to wander the stalls aimlessly, picking out the shiniest toys before remembering that she was dirt-poor. It would have taken her most of the day to find anything useful, and even then, she would not have recognized useful if it leapt from the table and bit her. With his help, she figured she might be able to prepare herself for the upcoming war before night fell. Or before the next ice-age.

"I really appreciate the help," she told him, patting his arm once in an absentminded gesture of gratitude. "I'm not sure I would have been able to find anything myself." It was no lie, and the way her blue eyes shone beneath the midday sun said as much. "A nice new spear sounds like a great idea. I'm sorry, though, I never did catch your name."

The way Emil referred to her brought warmth to her cheeks. She had a sudden instinct to swipe at them, though she knew it would do no good. Hopefully, he would just attribute it to the bright sun. "Emil isn't half-bad either," she told him. "Sounds a bit regal, honestly."

 

“I doubt I’ve been playing long enough to be considered anything more than a person with a bit of experience trust me when I say that I’m not veteran. I just have spent enough time in this world that I have learned how to be well proficient. Trustful I cannot give you a hard time I remember the beginning, but after that, it is a bit blurry.” Picking up one of the breastplates giving it a few hard raps to see if there was anything that the seller was trying to cover up; it was still a solid piece of workmanship even if it had seen some wear. However, around the strap he could see some evident straining in the leather it wouldn’t last move that a few weeks at best before the tore and if that tore in battle, then they were going to be as good as dead.However, he was able to find a decent pair of graves they were a bit scuffed but could still be used tossing them in the direction of Lady @Magdalyn. They would be able to give her at least some essential protection, but she would still need an entire set. That, however, was the best they would be able to find at this stall

As for the lad, he was able to pull out a robe, it was faded from use, and a bit worn but all the stitches were holding up just fine. Any rips were expertly stitched back together it would hold up under stress, and that was good. The style was something to be desired, however, but it would keep the kid alive so that shouldn’t matter too much to @Emil Trevelyan. He thought he saw something underneath one of the spare arrowheads, but it was nothing worth mention, so he left it alone.

“This is the best we're going to find at this stall and will have to try other to create a set of protection for your entire body. However for weapons, there is a nice stop that it tucked away from this street that I frequent, you might be able to find a good piece in there. For both of you with this war coming, he makes sure to keep his equipment up to scratch. Oh, and the name is Aalam, and I am a ranger of the southern lands of the kingdom. A bow is my weapon of choice for a sword can give those that you hunt too many options to escape.”

 

Emil tried very hard not to turn his nose up at the robe that was thrown his way. It was obviously worn, the sleeves stretched out and the hem dirty from who knew what. But the stitching wasn’t too bad and the collar was flappable – which was something he liked from other MMO games and fully planned to craft his own robe with a high enough collar. The color was bland and uninteresting and it needed a lot of work to make it even remotely fashionable, but, overall, it wasn’t abysmal.

My sincerest thanks, he commented as he motioned over the stall’s owner and paid for the robe. He would try and find time to fix it up himself sometime before the war happened…or so he hoped.

Turning to his two partners, he couldn’t help but quirk a brow. Do the pair of you intend to participate in this war? Even if it’s nothing more than staying here in the city and helping the NPCs?

 

"The beginning has been a little overwhelming," Mags confessed, nodding in agreement with Aalam. "It's been nuts, but for the most part, people have been friendly and willing to help." She flashed him a smile before accepting the greaves she was tossed. They resembled the worn leather sleeves she had attached to her paddock boots when true English boots seemed like too much of a hassle. Or the shin guards that had protected her legs from smacking the barrels when she came to close in gymkhana. "These are nice," she told him, moving to handle the transaction with the stall's owner. After brief smalltalk, she bid the older man farewell, and moved on with her two new companions.

"A bow, huh?" Magdalyn gave an approving hum, then added, "It's always cool to meet someone who opts for the ranged approach. I'm more melee myself, because I was never good at aiming. I was the 'spray and pray' sort, and there's no place for that here." She gave a backward nod toward the trash-tier spear strapped to her back. "This guy here doesn't require too much precision, which I appreciate."

Mags turned to Emil, and then nodded. "Yup," she said, "I plan to. Jump into some sort of beginner group, if they have that sort of thing. I won't be able to do anything too outrageous, being new, but I'd like to get into the thick of things."

 

Leading the pair down the street stopping at various stalls checking the equipment at a glance he did need to give everything an extensive check but he did have to check every. There a few that was decent but they wouldn’t really hold up under heavy pressure so they wouldn’t be of much use to the others. Stopping at one of the stalls to check a pair of leather pants that was hidden under some old war tore flags, it was of a lighter amour but still looked worth his time. Giving the piece a closer inspection it seemed that there were patterns of some type running along the seams. It was nicer than the rode from earlier that was apparent from the cloth that was used. It wasn’t silk but still was a fine treated cotton, it would work well.

Resting the pair to the side and looking through a crate of old breastplates. There were a few that had heavy dent those would only be good to be melted down the metal could be reused. However, there was one closer to the bottom there were any real dents in the metal. There were a few scratches but those could be buffed out with some time. Checking the straps on the side, the buckles look well-made and would hold up under testing and more importantly war. Tossing the plate on the same pile with the pants for the other to inspect. They would need to learn how to check quality, he wouldn’t always be there to help.

“ I will be assisting with the war effort, where ever they need is where I shall go. However, you two should avoid the front lines unless you have no other choice."

 

A look of mild surprise passed over Emil’s features before he stoically schooled his features into polite indifference. His hands locked behind his back and he gave a small smile, something like a parent would direct to a young child who was misbehaving in public.

Avoid the front lines? But that’s where all the glory and gold will be won. While I believe that those staying within the city to help and aid the community do deserve their just rewards and should be thanked for their abilities, the front lines are where history is made. He chuckled and shook his head. Bards sing about the front lines, not the dead and dying in the medical ward.

Though he wasn’t meaning to sound callous or crass, his words did have a hint of…malice laced between them.

I, however, must thank you for your help with this shopping endeavor. To my knowledge, the populace gets very…skittish around those who delve into arcane arts. I wasn’t sure I would be able to find anything at all. He inclined his head with another regal, yet tempered, smile. That said, I shall probably see you both during the war to come.​

 

Magdalyn blinked at her companion. Emil's words caught her off-guard, and it took her a moment to process exactly what it was he had said. Glory? Gold? Bards crooning songs? What kind of person put those things ahead of what war was really about? Life and death, people watching their world shatter into a million pieces.

Players did, she reminded herself, finally. Players put those things first. The war, and those who fought within it, were all just data. No real person would actually meet their end, so what reason was there to not put the fame and riches first?

Yet try as she may, she could not adopt the same mindset.

"I won't go throwing myself into any impossible situations," she assured Aalam. "I prefer to tackle challenges as I grow more capable, using them as a sort of level tracker. No use in setting my sights higher than I can actually see. I'd rather pace myself."

 

The boy was young it was something that couldn’t help, most people still loved at Terra as a simple game one with little to no judgment for a person's action. He had to grab his hand to steady it, he was thinking back to the prison. Back to where he was before this war bloomed into the event, it was. There were new and the pain and came with some action had not been fully experienced yet. However it wasn’t his job to teach them, all he would do was offer advice on what not to do if they didn’t take it, then it wasn’t any fault of his.

He would do his best to keep them alive in any case if they would find themselves fighting with him, he had heard how death affected those in the game. It was not pleasant. “War tends to remember those that make their mark no matter where they serve. You’re worrying too much about how you want to be remembered than how you will be remembered.” He stopped spotting a headband that was underneath some of the old robes tossing it at Emil. “Here that will keep the sweat out of your eyes as you fight.”

Turning to Magdalyn right after. “And you, you won’t grow unless you push yourself, you can’t always take the safe route.” Grabbing a pair of arm guards and passing them along. “I was able to be more than I thought by pushing myself you will have to do the same one day.”