Continue Online (Book 1, Memories) (29 page)

“
Are
you ready to go, sir?” Dayl asked.

“
I’m
watching this one.” I tilted the cane. The action gained me
another point of progress, bringing me up to thirteen percent.

“
Another
Traveler, sir?”

“
Another.”
My head nodded.

“
They’ve
slowed down a lot in the last few months.” Dayl's voice broke
in the middle of his sentence.

“
Happens.
Did you think they were endless?” I had almost said ‘we’
when responding. There were only so many people on earth, and of
those not everyone would be interested in a game.

“
The
big cities got it the worst. Father says we should be thankful for
all the work they’ve done.”

“
You
disagree?” I said as another window drifted by. This one
contained information about Dayl’s father. Being city guardsmen
was a family tradition.

“
I
don’t know, sir. Things are changing. Six years ago there were
no travelers. Now they’ve started to appear of the blue in our
city.” Dayl said.

“
Times
always change.” I responded slowly. Hopefully, things changed
around here. A game with a stagnating world would be mind numbingly
boring.

“They used to
only
appear in the bigger cities. Father says that stopped once the
Kingdoms started to recruit them. Travelers only appear in neutral
areas.”

“
Mh.
Makes sense.” Games had capital cities, places where trade,
meetings, or whatever would be handled. Normally, entire quest chains
would start from there as well.

It
would be interesting to see exactly how big these major cities might
get. Especially since there weren’t only NPCs wandering all day
and night. They had homes and, judging by the last few hours spent on
the beach, they lived their entire lives here in a simulated world.

“
Father
says I worry too much. But, sir, there’s been a shift towards
violence since they started arriving. And more of them are being
elevated to important roles.”

“
So
let the travelers choose what they do like everyone else does.”

“
But
travelers are frightening. That girl over there, she looks stronger
already, sir, and she’s only been picking up trash.”

“
She’s
about done.” Her progress bar was reaching completion. Which
was good, every time I talked to Dayl my own progress for this NPC
quest went up and down in bits.

“
Do
you think there will be war? Father says there won’t be one,
but I can’t help but shake the feeling.” Dayl asked.

“
Oh,
yes.” I nodded and watched my own progress bar jump up five
percent in one go.
“
There
will always be a war.”

There
I sat, an old man chewing on his lip while watching a young girl
about my niece's age clean up the beach. Most NPCs were gone by now.
Those who lingered were escorting carts and headed various
directions. While a guard who was entirely too young babysat me.

How
odd this whole situation was.

The
girl finally finished her task as I slowly tapped my foot in time to
the music in my head. I recalled a song that had played weeks ago.
That four-minute dance had taken me hours to learn. Maybe Old Man
Carver had a bit of dance in him somewhere.

“
I’m
done, Mister Carver, sir.” This player's tone was so soft
spoken that I almost missed her. At some point, my eyes had drifted
out to the sea, watching blurry swells fade closer to shore.

“
Here.
A map.” My arm felt leaden, but I tried to point.

She
carefully took the scroll from where it sat. I didn’t have the
energy to lift my arm and actually hand it over.
“
Mister
Carver, sir. Where’s someone who can teach me cooking?”

“
Mh.
Turn it this way.” I tried to be decisive and issue orders like
William Carver would have. Besides, there was a whole mess of dots on
there for different locations. Oddly, her map was completely empty. I
touched the spot where the Inn Chef’s information displayed for
me. A box faded into view facing this new player.

“
Careful.
He works nights, and only helps those who know how to keep a clean
workplace.” She had done her job. Hopefully, now my Carver
points would allow me to do a bit more guidance.

“
Maybe
you should brush up a little before you drop by. Maybe pick up litter
between here and there.” I was willing to bet there was a skill
or trait called
[Tidy]
that
would pop into being if she worked hard enough.

She
nodded slowly while staring at the map.

“
Dayl,”
I said.

“
Yes,
sir?” He almost cracked his voice again.

“
She
needs a bag, nothing fancy, something to pick up trash with.”

“
Miss,
you can take one of the trash bags you used earlier. They’re
free to anyone willing to help keep our city clean.” The
younger guard looked so serious then, I’ll bet he had to work
hard on avoiding the ‘my dad says’ line.

“
There
you go.”

She
looked happy and a bit confused.

“
Now,
I need to get home.” I gained two points for showing her where
to go and speaking as I did but lost one of them for staying out too
long after sundown.

Standing
hurt like hell and I fell again.

“
Let
me help, Mister Carver Sir.” She dove for an arm and nearly
wrenched it out of the socket. I grumbled but didn’t argue. The
pain wasn’t mild. Moments later I was up and vaguely stable.

“
I’m
getting too old,” I muttered, half in jest. That lost me
another point along with more information about Old Man Carver's
dislike for admitting his age in front of people. I sighed and
started shuffling off, leaving the girl and guard behind.

Home
was northward, out on a small hill that would take too long to reach.
My progress points danced as my slow pace home hurt things. Refusal
to ask for help raised them back up. What a stubborn old man. Dayl
was walking behind me a ways. His heavy metal footsteps stood out in
the near silence of early night.

I
made it to William Carver's house, I think. There were no other homes
anywhere close. Guess Old Man Carver had retired in a small cottage
on the edge of town. Shrubs and a wooden fence surrounded the
property. A second fence ran along the back and went for miles in
either direction. Behind the house was a field that stretched into
sheer fuzziness. There were creatures that looked similar to horses
in the distance.

I
grunted and reached around inside my robe for a key to the door.
Inside his house was almost as tiny as mine. There were another two
small rooms filled with books. One was pulled down at random and
shoved into a pocket for tomorrow’s bench sitting. Following
that, I shuffled my old tired NPC body to bed. Eyelids closed almost
instantly leaving me alone in silent darkness.

Nighttime
would last at least two hours. Long enough for me to log out of the
ARC and take care of myself. Maybe catch a quick nap. I resolved the
real life necessities by sending a memo to my boss. The contents said
I would be ready for work in a week. Alarms were set and sleep
claimed me. Old Man Carver's exhaustion was contagious.

An
eye blink later and the alarm slammed on. I felt tired, having only
sustained an hour of sleep, but it was better than nothing. I would
have to ask Beth how to handle long-term assignments in the game.
There had to be some method for dealing with it aside from autopilot.

I
logged into Continue. This time when I stepped through the doorway
there was no room for tests and trials. James and the
[Messenger's
Pet]
were absent. The game finished loading with me abruptly
becoming an old man shakily trying to lift a crude coffee mug to his
mouth for a sip. I fumbled a few drops before finishing up the
motion.

Next
time I should check the player status like Beth had done. That method
would allow me to see what I was leaping into and maybe I could avoid
dripping scalding hot water around. Strangely the poor treatment cost
me a few health points but didn’t change my progress bar.

Following
additional prompts, I managed to stumble around the house. Apparently
I was running late while trying to figure everything out. My
tardiness was made clear by a tiny box which displayed hits to my
completion percentage with warning notices.

I
looted a few more map scrolls and an apple. They were put into
pockets to go with the key and book Old Man Carver's robes already
held. Huffing I turned and closed the door, making sure everything
was locked up. The cane helped minimize Old Man Carver's unstable
footsteps.

Once
shuffling down the path I saw other townsfolk. Most of them waved. I
nodded back frequently and felt like a complete impostor. These
people knew William Carver the NPC, not Grant the player posing as
Carver the non-player. At least I got a few more points for my vague
replies to the people. Old Man Carver didn't seem big on social
pleasantries.

Judging
by morning traffic, stalls being set up, and bustle, this city
contained two thousand people. We were sprawled out over a few miles.
There was an entire marina for boating, but it stopped short of being
a trade port with giant ships coming in.

The
ocean smell was masked by bakery goods and meats. I carefully looked
at the scroll trying to map out where I was, verses all the little
dots of information around me. There was an alleyway near here that
was dangerous at night. Notes on the map told me that this was an
event location.

Now
that was unfair. A guide NPC had access to that sort of information?
I could lead players into an alley at night and see if they survived
the attack? For what? Turned out result possibilities were noted as
well. Rewards were all over. One example was contacts with a Thieves'
guild, if you subdued but didn’t kill, or managed to steal from
the attackers and get away. Another route pointed towards the guards
and city if you helped other civilians who might end up involved.

I
mean really, who would even think of this stuff? Everything about it
seemed designed to lead a player around based on their gut reactions.

The
bakery near me provided a chance for new players to earn coin for
work. They often hired Travelers for all roles. Sweeping, mixing,
folding the dough, or running the cash register.

I
shook my head and tried not to read too much into it. Basically,
there were options all over the town. No two players would take the
exact same path, show the same interests, or respond to the events in
the same manner. Each one would have different rewards and a nearly
unique experience. Not every player would talk to a guide, like the
NPC I was pretending to be. Some had foreknowledge from friends and
family. Some were savvy enough to find buildings that might teach
them what they wanted.