Zenurik

Zenurik backpedaled away from the Boar Pup as it swung its tusks back and forth angrily, trying to catch him. The strike had missed, but the beast was still raging about. Finally it stopped lashing out, and was listing heavily to one side, stumbling a bit as it tried to recover from its small rampage. Zen tensed up, watching it for a moment, then he lunged forward. 

He started his swing from down low, bringing his axe up in a swinging arc. The leading blade bit into the boar's neck, then carried onwards, up and through, barely slowing down on its way. There was a momentary pause, and then the pup's body slumped to the ground, its head rolling away from the rest of the carcass. Zen's swing went up and over, the weight of his axe keeping momentum until it came up to rest on his shoulder. Zenurik let out a grunt as he steadied himself, his eyes swiveling over to his drop screen. 

"Well, that's unfortunate." No dice on a drop this time. Hopefully he wasn't going to have to depopulate the local Boar population for this quest. 

Equipment/Items:

Items:

- 5 Tier One Health Potions of Rare quality. (+40 HP) (Gained here)
- 1 Tier One Damage Potion of Uncommon quality. (+1 Damage) (Gained here)
- 1 Tier One Over-Health Potion of Special quality. (+50 HP to maximum HP for remainder of thread) (Gained here)

Zenurik waited patiently, his eyes locked onto the pup as it moved its way closer towards where he was hiding. The beast was so intent on its search for food in the soil that it didn't even look up and around as it trudged along. That suited the man just fine - since he had no idea how long it would take him to actually get the right number of tusks for his task from the old smith, it would be good if he didn't burn himself out too quickly. 

There. Just inside the range where Zen could hit the beast, it stopped again, snout buried in the dirt. His hands twisted on the haft of the axe, making the wood creak slightly. That was all the warning the Boar Pup has as he sprang into motion from his crouching position. One stride, and then Zenurik twisted, letting momentum carry his strike deep into the boar's side. Metal cleaved deep into the flesh and sinew, staggering his victim as the man jumped back. His movement made the pup's retaliatory swipe with its head miss, the short, stubby tusks of the Pup sweeping through the air where he had been a moment before. 

And speaking of attacking - Zenurik's eyes caught on to a rustling in the grass around him a short distance away. The tall stalks of yellow-green grass were swaying in a pattern that had nothing to do with the way the wind was currently blowing, and there was a definite path being made as something moved through where he was looking. The man crouched down slowly, trying to ease his presence as he pulled his axe from his back. His hands slid carefully into place, gripping onto the rough wooden haft as his gaze peered through the bobbing plants. 

A flash of dark brown and light black appeared through the yellow-green grass, and as he watched, a small, snuffling creature pushed fully into sight. It wasn't a big animal - hells, Zenurik had seen dogs larger than what he was looking at. The boar pup's snout was currently planted on the ground as it walked along, sniffing intently at the earth as it searched for something. From hazy memories rambling in the back of his mind, he thought boars liked to root for truffles. He almost felt bad for attacking the pup. But only almost. 

The early morning sun stung his eyes as Zen followed the path out of the eastern gate of the city. It didn't seem like that many people were actually heading out just yet - it seemed he would be beating the crowds as the low-levels tried to jockey for a good hunting spot. His fingers danced through the menus as he equipped his axe and armor, rolling his shoulders as he reaccustomed himself to their weight. 

The twin-bladed battleaxe hung down his back, and Zenurik was grateful he didn't have to worry about the sharp edges cutting into his clothes or skin in its current position. It would be more than a bit frustrating to be constantly taking chip damage from his own equipment. As he walked he fiddled with the spot where the axe hung, wondering if where it was resting actually had a chance of affecting how quickly he could use it in a fight. He supposed that, at least if he was the one to start the fight, he would have a chance to get it ready to go before attacking. 

The door closing behind Zenurik as he left the store cut off the scents of smoke and fire. Tension drained from his body as he subconsciously relaxed - he hadn't even realized just how tight his muscles had gotten while he was in the shop. That - as much as he might have liked the idea of being a blacksmith once upon a time, as things stood right now there was no way he'd be able to handle doing that. The first time he tried lighting a forge, he would probably have a panic attack. 

With a shake of his head Zen pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind and set off towards the city gates, heading for the fields where he had seen people fighting boars before. He didn't have too many boar tusks that he needed to get for Lyle, but it would be better to get started now. He had no idea what the actual drop rate for the things would be - for all he knew, he might have to kill ten of the pups before he even saw a single tusk. Hopefully his luck wouldn't be quite that bad. 

The sound of rustling fabric caught Zenurik's attention and made him look up from the greaves that he was currently examining. Lyle was pushing through the hanging cloth doorway that separated the front of the shop and the rest, wiping his hands on his apron as he did so. The smith's weathered and cragged face lit up when he saw his guest. 

"Ah, mornin' lad. You look a bit better today, less peaky." The man moved over to the counter, stopping when he was across from where Zenurik was standing. "Now then, you'd be here about that little request of mine, right?" At Zen's nod, he grunted once and tapped a thick finger on the counter top. 

"Good. So, lad. I've run a bit short on supplies for reinforcing my metals. Normally I'd buy some extras from the re-sell vendors, but they've been running dry themselves. So I need a keen adventurer to bring me back some boar tusks. ." As he finished speaking, a glowing-edged quest window popped into Zenurik's field of view, containing the details. 

A fight. He took a deep breath, flexing his leg muscles. He could do that. The player's finger reached out and tapped the button to accept the quest even as he spoke. "I can bring you those, good smith."

Zen paused outside of the entrance to the smithy, his hand curled around the metal handle. The man took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, then back in as he braced himself mentally. He remembered his first reaction to the scents carried by the smithy, and he didn't want to freeze up again like that. With a subtle tensing of his jaw, he opened the door and moved inside. Zenurik felt the bones in his fingers creak from the grip he had on the door as the smells of fire and smoke rolled over him. 

But he was prepared this time, and the scents weren't quite the same as what haunted his memories. There was no smell of burning meat, thankfully. Zen pushed on in, and called out. 

"Ho, good morning!" There was no one in the front room of the shop as he called out, and silence was the immediate response. A few moments passed, and Zen wiled the time away by looking at some of the things on display. 

Zenurik let the door to the inn swing closed behind him as he stretched out his shoulders. After delivering Lyle's package, the smith had told Zenurik to come back the next day, today now, and he would have some work for the player. Zen had tried to push for the quest to start when he had been there already, but it was apparently something tied to time, or the NPC couldn't act as a quest giver at night, because Lyle had remained steadfast in refusing and saying to come back later. 

Still, it wasn't that big of an imposition, if Zen was honest about it. Getting a night's sleep after his jaunt through the forest had definitely refreshed him, so he supposed the system had a reason for its methods. He double checked the pending quest info, and sure enough it was now telling him to visit the smith to begin. Now reaffirmed in his obligation for the day, Zenurik started down the path he'd followed last night, back towards the smithy. 

SP:

Unspent: 4

Spent: 0 

"I'm actually here as a favor to Zackariah." Zenurik flicked open his inventory and moved over to grab the package he had to deliver. As he did, Lyle leaned forward onto the counter, shifting to clap his hands. 

"Ah, excellent! I've been waiting for old Zack to get this delivered." The smith took the cord-wrapped package from Zen and held deftly untied it, his thick fingers surprisingly deft as he pulled the cord loose. He peered into it for a moment, making Zenurik think that he was counting whatever was inside. Then the cord was re-wrapped around the small pouch, which promptly disappeared under the counter Lyle was leaning against. 

"Right lad. Everything is in order there. Zackariah does some fine work. Say, lad." Zenurik paused in the middle of clearing the quest completion notification that had popped up to turn his gaze back towards Lyle. "Would you happen to have a bit of free time in the next few days to help an old smith out? You look like the brawny sort who'd enjoy working with his hands." 

"Certainly!" He needed to get out of his shell. Doing the first quest in this chain had been a start - if he let himself back slide now, Zenurik might never really leave his room. It was time to take this world head on, on foot. 

"Yea, that'd be me, Lyle the Smith." The man leaned against the counter and propped one arm up on it so he could rest his chin on his palm as he looked d over at Zenurik. "Now, what'd a strapping young lad like yourself be looking for me for? I doubt you're in the mood to buy right now." Zen unconsciously shifted slightly, rocking back on his feet. It was true that he wasn't exactly swimming in col right now - he'd been far too reticent about hunting and doing quests for that - but it was still a bit disconcerting for the NPC to call him out like that. 

"That axe on your back looks like it's in fine condition after all." Zenurik's eyes widened as he realized what Lyle had actually been referring to. Shaking his head at the conclusion he'd jumped to, Zen smiled brightly. 

"No, you're right about that, I'm not here to shop." The smith waved his free hand for Zenurik to continue. 

The bell above the door chimed as Zenurik pushed his way into the shop. The smell of burning metal and smoke hit his nose, and for a moment the man stumbled as the scent sent memories rolling through his brain. His fingers curled around the wood of the door, helping him right himself as he held against the rush of jumbled emotions that came with those memories. He hadn't expected just walking into a smithy would do something like this to him - if he had, he might have tried to prepare himself a bit before just strolling in. 

"Ay, lad, you alright there?" A strident voice cut through the fog that had swamped Zenurik, and he blinked his eyes twice before rubbing them with the back of one hand. There was an older gentlemen staring at him from behind a counter. He had a brown leather apron on, scarred by years fire and smoke. 

"I - yes. Yes, sorry." Zen shook his head, focusing on the here and now rather than the past. "Sorry about that sir. Ahem. Would you happen to be Lyle, the blacksmith?" Even with a nameplate hanging over the smith's head, Zenurik felt it polite to actually ask. 

Zenurik walked along the cobbled paths, the heels of his boots clicking against them as he made his way through the town. In a way, he reveled in the sound - a part of himself had been afraid he would never hear something like his own gait again. It was such a small thing, but one he found himself cherishing despite everything attached to the whole situation. 

He had taken the time to familiarize himself with some of the notable locations that were easy to find, so he wasn't in danger of getting lost in the town. But the sun was setting, and the streets were definitely getting darker as he made his way through them. Thankfully people - both npcs and players - were lighting lamps, casting a warm glow across the people passing beneath them. The lights were also usually illuminating signs for whichever shop they were hanging by, which in the end made it easier for Zen to actually tell when he'd reached Lyle's shop. 

As Zenurik followed along the streets, making his way to the blacksmith's shop, curiosity slowly stole over him. He pulled up his inventory and flicked through it to find the little pouch that the alchemist had given him - he had no interest in the package he entrusted to deliver; but the contents of his reward intrigued him. From the sounds it had made when Zackariah had given it to him Zen knew there was glass in it, but, what did that glass hold? 

"Huh." He probably should have expected the reward to be locked - he hadn't actually finished the quest yet. That was an interesting little tidbit. Well, there wasn't anything else he could do about it right now, because he had a feeling that if he tried manually breaking into the bag he'd find the quest invalidated. At best he'd have to start over - at worst, he'd be locked out of the quest and its subsequent chain. Best not to risk that particular fate, he felt. With a shrug he closed down his inventory screen and kept walking. 

"Alright, you can set that bottle over here to finish cooling, your work on it is done." Zackariah watched as Zenurik followed his directions, then snapped his fingers. "Now! You managed to get a couple interesting herbs here, and you have plenty left over to help me with restocking for some experiments. I'd say that deserves a reward. Hold on one moment, young man." Zen lifted one eyebrow as the alchemist disappeared into one of the small rooms connected to the room they were brewing in. He had honestly been expecting, at most, to keep the potion that he had created as part of the quest, but it looked like that wasn't how this was set up. 

A few moments later Zackariah returned, carrying a small brown leather pouch. From inside of it Zen could hear the clinking of glass. The old man held the bag out, but when Zenurik reached out, he lifted it out of the way, his eyes twinkling. 

"One last thing." He planted a small package, tied shut with a frayed cord, into Zen's outstretched hand. "Save an old man some walking, and deliver this to the blacksmith, Lyle, would you?" Zen quirked his lips in a bemused smile. 

"I'd be happy to." 

"Excellent! These are yours, then, but do be careful. Replacing them might be annoying for you." The final part of the task accepted, the alchemist handed the other pouch over. Zen pushed both into his inventory, and with a bow, set out. 

That had definitively not gone as expected. At least, it hadn't gone the way that Zenurik had hoped - it had actually gone pretty much as he expected. He didn't know what the blue root could be used for here in Aincrad, but from his old familiarity, it most certainly wasn't a healing potion. He hummed in thought as Zackariah's tried to reassure him that he was capable of making a potion. 

"Ah - right." It would probably help to tell the old alchemist that he was fine and wasn't disheartened by this turn of events. "Can't get them all right in one go, right? I think the next one will go better." Zen pulled the sets of red berries from his inventory, comparing the two for a moment. The berries on one branch seemed brighter in color and, in a way that was hard to pinpoint, plumper, than the other. 

Trusting his gut on this, Zenurik went with that set of berries, placing the other bundle to the side. Zackariah had brought over another batch of base liquid while Zen was mulling over his options, and the young man promptly plucked the berries from their branch and dropped them into the simmering pot before he could second guess himself. 

Slowly stirring the concoction, Zenurik watched with a held breath as the berries began to dissolve into the clear liquid, gradually turning it a pinkish hue. As his wooden spatula swirled around the mix, more dissolved. A faint scent of strawberries and cherries filled the air as Zackariah peered over Zen's shoulder at the pot. Finally, he reached over and turned off the heat, and had Zenurik carefully pour the mix into a glass bottle. 

"Congratulations, lad, you've got yourself quite the perfect potion if I do say so myself. I'll take the rest of the herbs off your hands." With a wide smile, Zenurik happily handed the materials over. 

Setting up to make the potion was actually much simpler than Zenurik had anticipated. Zackariah provided him with a pot that had a simmer clear liquid inside of it, one that had a faintly pungent odor. 

"Go ahead and steep one of your herbs in here. This is an alchemical base I've already prepared for this potion." Zenurik took the pot, grateful that this step at least had already been completed for him. He settled it onto the stove under Zack's watchful eye, then pulled one of the herbs out of his inventory. 

Curious if form would fit what he expected, he took out one of the blue and yellow-tipped roots from his storage. The root was dropped into simmering pot, and following Zackariah's guidance he took a wooden spatula and slowly stirred the root around. The base dissolved the herb, and as it did an acrid stench hit their noses.

"Well, that did not work right!" Sweeping past Zen, the alchemist scooped up the pot and took it over to a metal bin, which he dumped the contents into hurriedly. 

The city gate was bustling as Zenurik made his way through, the flow of people keeping things moving as both players and non went about their day. Thankfully he didn't have long to wait in line, the guards checking perfunctorily for crimes registered against him - when the check came back clean he was waved on inside the city. He gave the guard a bright smile and strode on in, his feet carrying him back along the path to Zackariah's shop. 

His boots clicked against the cobbles of the street beneath him as Zen ambled on his route, his eyes sweeping back and forth and taking in the things around him. He had been outside long enough that Aincrad's system had passed to its evening, and some shops that were run by the NPCs were starting to close down. The player-run ones were still doing brisk business though, and he chuckled. Even in a digital world, there were still people who preferred being awake and active at night. 

His musings were cut off when he realized that he had reached his destination. Thankfully, it looked like the old alchemist was one who kept later hours - or, possibly, because he was currently active in the quest chain, Zenurik still had access. Either way, the light inside was on. He pushed into the building, greeting by a fainy chime as a bell rang out above his head. 

"Ah, a prompt return, I did not expect you again for at least another day. Welcome back young man, welcome back. I trust your trip was fruitful?" Zen smiled easily as Zack's voice cam from the back as the old man stepped into sight. 

"It was! Found a few good herbs to try my luck with."

"Excellent! Let's get to it, shall we?" 

Zenurik let out a long, deeply held breath as he made his way back closer to the edge of the treeline. His little sojourn into the woods had been surprisingly relaxing, even though he had ostensibly been there as part of a job. Despite that, he was definitely glad to be out of the forest - he knew nothing was there, but he hadn't been able to shake the feeling that something had been watching him, the hairs on the back of his neck constantly prickling. But despite how long he spent between the trees, he had never seen hide or hair of another creature - player or otherwise. He hoped that leaving the forest behind him would settle that trace of unease that had been plaguing him, and as the bright light of the sun took over from the trees, he was relieved that that was actually the case. 

As the young man crested a small hill, he paused when he caught sight of a flash of bright red peeking out from between some shrubbery. His eyes widened slightly and he moved over towards it, deviating from the well-trodden path back to town to reach the brush that had caught his attention. He knelt down and reached out, parting the branches and leaves, to reveal a small cluster of vivid red nestled neatly behind them. He waited a moment, and after staring long enough, the system helpfully labeled these as an 'herb' - he had thought this was the same, and thankfully that seemed to be the case. With a grin stretching his lips, he harvested the berries, tucking them safely into his inventory. Now that was all done - he could actually make his way back to Zakariah's shop without worrying too much.

The air in the forest was growing thicker as Zenurik made his way through the woods, damp with heavy moisture. And there was also a 'fresh' scent - not any specific kind of plant that he could pin the smell to, but more of just an amalgamation, like someone had grabbed a bottle of 'fresh-scented' cleaner and sprayed it around far too liberally. It wasn't offensive to the nose, but it wasn't quite what he'd expected the forest to smell like. Still, the slightly off nature of it suited him just fine for now, as he made his way around a large tree that was easily two or three times his size in width alone. 

Zen paused and frowned, a faint memory about something growing near the base of trees bouncing up from the depths of his childhood. He turned and scanned the area around where he was, his eyes darting to and from as he examined his surroundings. He was about to give up and press onwards - or, it might be wiser to start making his way back to town now - when he saw another of those nostalgiacally familiar plants - this one, a bright yellow flower, sitting innocently by the base of the tree he had just circled around. 

The large man knelt down and carefully plucked the flower, taking care to leave behind as much of the root system and the rest of the plant as he could. He had no idea if that would actually let this grow back - or, if it would be in truer 'game' fashion, and just vanish and respawn later when he was gone. Either way - he had one more herb, and only needed the last to be done with this stage of his little venture. 

"!" Zenurik barely caught himself from tumbling down a slope as he hopped over a fallen tree - the log had obscured the fact that the ground on the other side was far from level. At the last moment he managed to latch his hand onto one of the thicker branches of the fallen tree, and thanked his luck that it hadn't dried out enough to break under his weight. Zen hauled himself back to his feet and onto stable footing, rolling his shoulder after letting go of the branch. The fall wouldn't have been painful, looking at it, but it wouldn't have been pleasant either. 

What was pleasant was what he spotted in the ground by his feet, revealed by the soil he had kicked up when he slid. It was another of the oddly familiar blue roots, with the faint yellow tips. Once he was a bit more settled he would have to ask others if they'd had any instances where things resembled items from games they used to play. For now he knelt down, carefully to avoid slipping and losing his find, then plucked the root and tucked it into his inventory. 

Zenurik was starting to head into the woods near the edge of the field at this point as he continued his search for more herbs. It kind of made sense that there weren't that many directly by the town - if there was somewhere that was picked clean and constantly kept that way by the large amounts of people who were doing quests that needed herbs, it was probably right around the safest place here in Aincrad. Hopefully by ranging further away he would have better luck - or at least maybe something interesting would happen, more than just staring at various weeds and plants and hoping they would get tagged as an herb. 

Before he actually pressed into the woods though, Zen made sure to look along the edge of the treeline. Old experience taught him that breaks in trees was where a lot of mulch accumulated, which lead to more things growing there. But checking the area along his immediate route yielded nothing that he could actually use - though this time he did see the stinging nettle bush before he shoved his hand inside of it. The dark haired man shook his head with a sigh and pushed his way through the brush, heading into the forest to keep looking. 

Zenurik winced and pulled his hand away from the bush he had been inspecting. He'd inadvertently found a nettle bush it seemed, and now his hand was stinging from the small spikes that had lanced into his skin. He had gone and gotten his hopes up after finding that blue root hanging from a bush earlier, and had started delving into them, trying to spot another. 

But his efforts proved to be in vain. So far he hadn't seen a hint of any of the red berries or the blue roots - the two herbs he had identified so far as actually being useful. He grunted and stood up, straightening out his back, then rubbing his stinging hand with his other thumb. This search was taking longer than he had hoped - but, so far, not as long as he was afraid of. Zenurik adjusted the axe on his back and pressed onwards, looking for more herbs so he could move on to the actual crafting stage of this quest.

The sun was starting to beat down from high overhead as Zenurik moved through the field, his eyes still sweeping back and forth as he looked for more herbal ingredients. At this point he had started to move away from the walls of the town, and every so often his hand strayed to the haft of his axe - he did not want to be caught off guard and flat-footed if something decided to try getting the jump on him. But it seemed like he was in luck - maybe because there were others out fighting, and they had drawn all the aggro of the creatures around, but nothing had attacked the tall dark-haired man so far. 

Then he saw something that made him pause, and rub his eyes before frowning and tilting his head to one side. "Huh. Wonder if this is just a result of me trying to figure out what herbs are." Sitting on a bush ahead of him was another familiar herb from a game in his childhood. With a shrug he plucked it and tucked the blue root into his inventory then pressed onwards, ruminating over the odd similarities.