Prologue
"Selling Adamant Armor!"
"Free starter packs! Free starter packs!"
"Does anyone want a girlfriend?"
"Buying Magicked Gloves willing to pay 3000 gold pieces!"
The Gaotunheim bank- a wild place where the rich veterans rubbed shoulders with the weak and poor beginners. A place where a player could get rare swag- and lose it just as quickly. This was my favorite place. My name is Jacques Salvidos Mortimos Pyrophiac Sanguineer. Most call me Jack Pyro.
My world is a vast, vast thing, with monsters and riches that have been forgotten possibly centuries before. My parents were adventurers- a rare occupation nowadays. They were exploring places from the beginning of the game when they came across a Granden- a monster so strong that it killed you three times in one hit. They were gone before 2 minutes were out. I was staying in a hospice alone when it happened, and when the rent was due, I got kicked out. But in truth, I prefer it that way. I have never died, I am a high level master thief, and my name is somewhat known through out Gaotunheim. I say somewhat because, while every child in the Dark Territory has heard my name, You would be hard pressed to find anyone who knows about me in Light City. However, most of the People in Fight Town know me. That's because the main place for beginners to practice their strength, attack, and defense is Goblin House-, which is my stomping grounds. Let me explain. Goblin House is one of the few beneficial "glitches" in this world, and we try to make sure that the gods don't find out about it. It is a run-down old mansion that is over run by goblins. Now, that's not so unusual- goblin pockets are common and are usually taken care of by local "prodigies". The unusual thing is that these goblins respawn, which gives the warriors an infinite source of weak to moderate (depending which floor you're on) enemies to pound on.
I realized the financial opportunity to be had, and me and my gang of orphans purchased the land from the local mafia. It belonged to us. Then my gang and me leveled up for the better part of a year, growing stronger each day. Then, after we were tough enough to deal with any local thugs, I had my group go out and start spreading rumors in Fight Town about a beneficial glitch in the city that caused goblins to respawn infinitely inside an abandoned house in Dark Territory.
When the warriors showed up, we acted like we weren't going to share the house with anybody. We let them argue with us awhile, and then we pretended to give in. We told them that if the gave us our pick of any item that dropped from the goblins, all items left behind by the player if he died while battling in the house, and a small fee each time they came in, then they could use it. They conversed with each other for a bit, then said that they would accept the deal, but the entrance fee would have to be negotiated by the two strongest people in each group (typical warriors, always thinking of brawn). However, I was surprised when the negotiator for the warriors began to bargain with quick and sharp wit. We eventually settled on a fee of 15 gold pieces, a nice sum for Dark Territory economy and a small amount for Fight Town. So, Goblin House was born. However, we asked to keep the knowledge of it on the down low- Magistrates revel in plugging up holes like this, especially beneficial ones.
So, beginners and veterans alike come to the house, and my small gang actually became something of a small business. People actually began looking for jobs at the house. These people, I could tell, weren't fighters or entrepreneurs; they just wanted to feed their families. I was hesitant at first- I didn't want my gang to become a small business. But I eventually realized that I needed people to collect the fees. So, I hired a couple, trained them up, and gave them each 50 gp a day. I was turning quite a profit for about 2 years then the trouble started in the form of Aldren Swordsun.
Ch. 1 Tenure, Twoyear.
GameDate 0917
Location: Gaotunheim, Former Residence of censored, Dark Territory (Aka "Goblin House")
"Hello, sir, how may I help you?"
Aldren Swordsun was surprised. He hadn't expected to see anyone here, let alone this young girl. Even more, a game-orphan. "Do not fear, I am here to rid this house of the goblin infestation." He knew he could, too. He had already cleared several other houses of goblins.
The girl was silent for a moment, just stared at him with disbelief. Aldren began so shift uncomfortably. He knew his splendid armor was more brilliant than this miserable street orphan had probably seen in her entire life, but that was no excuse to stare so. He was just about to say something when a large goblin turned the corner. It was around 7' 8", with huge slobbering fangs and two oversize meat cleavers in its hands. "Get behind me, I'll take care of him!"
The girl snorted in contempt, then disappeared. Aldren looked around madly for a few seconds, but a horrendous bellow from the goblin drew his attention back to it. The girl was on top of the goblins head.
But… that was either teleportation or Extreme Speed, neither of which is possible without a Cloak of Deas!
He watched as the girl pulled a very sharp and nasty looking dagger from the top of the monster's cranium. The goblin fell to the floor and vanished, leaving behind bones and a pile of coins, which the girl immediately pocketed. "I don't need your help, jack and unless you tell me who you are and what you've heard about this place, you'll be joining the goblin pretty soon."
Astonished at her impropriety, Aldren, in hindsight, could have been a little better in his word choice. "I am Aldren Swordsun, Son of Nevermore the Great Mage, and champion of the Glove and Gauntlet school of the sword, cretin! Are you so foolish as to think you could defeat me?"
"Not so foolish as you are, moron, for speaking so to one of my gang."
Aldren whirled around. Standing about 4 yards away from him was a figure so mismatched that Aldren had to stop thinking about what was going on just to study him. He was an interesting figure, around 15 winters, wrapped in a cloak that must have been incredible when first made. Now, it was somewhat earth color, with only faded lines and darker sections to show it had been anything but Poorman's fabric at one point. The hood was pulled up, so the person's eyes were shrouded in darkness. His other clothes were the same as any other street rats, and he wasn't carrying any visible weapons, which made Aldren feel better. He was well versed in protective spells, and even a full-grown mage sweated to beat him in a fight. That wasn't the mismatched part.
The mismatched part was the air about him. It was almost regal in a way, but something about it made him start to tremble a bit. Then he stopped it. This was a mere game orphan. If he was a mage, he wasn't a higher level than hedgemage, and they had trouble healing bruises. Fighting was a death wish for them. "Gang? You expect me to roll over like a beaten cur just because you're a gang leader?" he gave a laugh that was more cherry than he actually felt "I have defeated many of your kind with little more than a wave of my hand."
The figure smiled, and Aldren shivered when he realized that the figure had very pronounced canines. A small fact, stored dutifully along with other useful tidbits spoke up. Some hegdemages could transform into animals. He immediately found the proper spells that were the most effective against beast-mages. "You're wrong, Mr. Swordsun. You've never even encountered one of my kind. I can tell that because you haven't died once yet. And besides," the figure smiled evilly, "I'm the only one of my kind"
Aldren was growing more confident by the minute. "Like I've never heard that before. Ha! You Hegdemages are all alike, thinking you're something new. I, Aldren Swordsun, will put you in your place!"
ΔΘΞΘΔ ΨψΨ〖〗
Ж
Inwardly, I sighed. They never listened. I mentally debated on whether or not to kill him. Better not to, for secrecy's sake. Better yet to knock him out and then place a binding spell on him, to keep him away from here. But first he would have to wipe his memory, or change it so that Roma did the fighting. She would have killed him; being sold to a brothel by your own parents did not give one a very positive view of men. Or humanity, for that matter. But enough reminiscing. Time to get down to business.
ΔΘΞΘΔ ΨψΨ〖〗
Ж
"Alright, cuntose, you want to fight? I challenge you to a duel to be enacted right now, with Roma of the Vanishing Egde as witness. Will you agree?"
Aldren paled slightly. This was serious. The figure was enacting a fill on blood duel. People wound up as slaves by agreeing to stupid stuff like this. But his honor had been insulted, and it would be avenged. "I do." And charged at the figure. Now, Aldren was well book learned. He had some real experience. But what his teachers hadn't told him about the Dark Territory was this: you have to have the observation skills of a spy. And, for all his strength, Aldren was not an observant man. So, he hadn't noticed that the girl – Roma?- had seemingly pulled a blade out of thin air.
And she wasn't wearing an ancient Cloak of Twilight, either.