Acanthus

She fished through her inventory for a small botanist’s hatchet. It appeared in her hand, and she began chopping down a few of the smaller trees. Back at work on the next grove of cedars, her thoughts turned back to Landon. At the very least, Landon deserved a chance. It was kind of him to offer a list of materials that let her delay her decision. There were no high-pressure tactics at play. It made her trust Landon’s suggestion more. You’re talking about this man like he’s a real person. She was. But frankly, she had met so many NPCs over the last few days that she was starting to l

With gutgrass in hand, Acanthus checked her map for the nearest whistle cedar nodes to harvest. Just her luck—they were clear across the plains. At least the other nodes were near the whistle cedar. She wouldn’t be running around all day… Just most of it. With some time to let her mind wander, Acanthus considered Landon’s words. Everyone can perform. Even you. One one hand, Acanthus was inclined to disbelieve him. Well, not so much “disbelieve.” She believed that he believed. But was that enough to change career paths? She was comfortable when things were going to plan. Changing professio

Acanthus checked Landon’s list: tautwire gutgrass, whistle cedar, boar hair, bumpy gourfs, and crimson stalkweed. Acanthus recognized the last one: it was the red tumbleweed that she had harvested for Zackariah. Or tried to, at least. I guess that means that I really could take these over to Evangeline instead. Alchemy seemed like the safer option. Acanthus had never really considered herself a wallflower, but the descriptor fit her far better than she cared to admit. She certainly had never sought the spotlight. She found comfort in the calm, quiet repetition of craft and research, away

The door sang as Acanthus entered the shop. Not just chimed—it sang. A loud, rock n’ roll riff blared through unseen speakers and caught her off guard. This isn't the potion shop. As she turned to leave, the door’s melody morphed into a full rock intro. The speakers bottomed out as the tune struck a power chord. Acanthus yelped and nearly fell over. From the shadows, an enormous man strode out, lute in hand, and posed for an invisible camera. “Here…” The song grew even louder, drilling into Acanthus’ head. “Is…” The man raised his right hand, his hand held aloft like t

With two quests out of the way, Acanthus became eager for more. No need to rush into danger though. I can start with some of the low-risk quests. Acanthus scrolled through the quest log. How about a profession? That should give some good experience, and it will probably end up bringing in a fair amount of col. It might even be a good way to meet some of the other players. She glanced at the list. Blacksmith, Tailor, Appraiser… An interesting roster. She wanted something that *felt* like a fantasy game. I’m not in the real world, I might as well enjoy the fantasy while I can. In the e

THREAD SUMMARY Acanthus: EXP: 800 (Quest) + 790 ((7900 words/10) * 1 * 1) * 2 = 3,180 EXP Col: 2,000 (Quest) + 400 (400 col * 1 page) + 50 (Treasure chest) = 2,450 col Zackariah's Special Draught Initiate's Draw T1 Perfect Light Armor | MIT: 2 EVA: 1 (5) Big Bertha Braciole Treasure Chest Contents 50 col (accounted for in above total) (2) materials T1 Uncommon Consumable 223962a T1 Uncommon Consumable 223962b Materials (from successful foraging rolls in Part 1) (1

“Who are you, my dear?” The question caught her off guard, so she tried to buy some time. “I’m happy to answer, but I’m curious why you want to know.” Dorian kept his stride while he responded. “Well, I get to meet many adventurers here in Tolbana. Hundreds, maybe even thousands.” Dorian collected his thoughts. A group of children raced home, worried about being out after dark. “I can’t tell you how many adventurers I’ve sent on their way. But out of all those adventurers, very few ever talk to me after they return the loan.” Haru shifted guiltily. This was an NPC

Dorian warned her it would be a long stroll. “I want you to know you aren’t obligated to stay the whole time. It’s a little bit of business mixed with pleasure—I like to make rounds and check on things each night.” “That won’t be an issue.” Dorian simply nodded and led the way. Haru realized just how little of Tolbana she had seen in her months hidden away. Even in total safety, she had neglected to wander and explore, and she had missed so many things. A beautiful park with a centuries-old oak tree. A majestic, four-tiered fountain that gushed cool, clear water. Rows upon rows of ho

Coming to Terms Trudging back to Dorian’s office, Haru took stock of the past two days. She had met kindly old Zackariah, and wandered out into the safe zone for the first time since she arrived in Aincrad. She met Lyle, engaged in combat (and won!). And she had met Pete and picked through enough garbage to fill a small building. She was exhausted, and oddly enough, content. She stopped for a moment. Content? It was an odd feeling in the middle of a death game. Fear, anxiety, sadness—those were all emotions she had expected. She even recalled her triumph from defeating those three li

Back on shore, Haru gave thanks to the ground. May I never search another boat full of fish traps again. With a grin so bright it rivaled the sun, Pete brandished a sealed letter. She stared at the envelope. “That isn’t a sack of col, Pete.” “Sure ain’t, missy! But it’ll more than settle my debts.” The quest marker seemed to agree, and so Haru reached for the letter. But Pete jerked it away playfully, and Haru seethed as Pete laughed yet again. He then thought for a moment and reached over to a particularly rank barrel, spilling over with chum. He pulled the letter lightly over

“Open it? Don’t you have a key?” Pete grinned sheepishly, and Haru groaned. “Alright, I think I can manage the chest. Could we at least row to shore?” Pete laughed. “I’m afraid not, missy.” And he elaborated no more. Haru scowled. This isn’t real. None of this is real. It isn’t real, even though I am furious at this quest and the hours I have spent looting and helping this flippant, helpless stick figure of a grandpa—it doesn’t matter because none of this is real. Fishing through the various bits in the boat, Haru dug out two lucky bobbers and a shoelace from mam’s fourth lucky boot.

One more quest like this and I’m going right back to Tolbana forever. Haru stood in the boat, pants and sleeves rolled up, doubled over, ransacking each and every trap. She swore she had been through the contents of the boat twice. But the moment she blinked, a new one would seemingly appear. It had to be some kind of luck-based check—one she wasn’t allowed to fail. Exhausted, she fished a small metal coin out of a trout trap. “That’s me mam’s lucky col! Thank you!” Another trout trap had a strange, ball-shaped object. “That’s me old bobber line! Thank you!” … A b

Pete's Fishing Hole Another quest, another old man with a beard. Even from a distance, she could tell Pete was a character. He seemed more leg than man, the way he danced around in his boat. Haru was surprised the whole thing didn’t capsize. But dance as he did, Pete seemed to know his way around the little jetty. As Haru approached, she noticed a few metal gleams in the bottom of the boat. “Well howdy there stranger! You seem to have an eye for my haul.” His eyes twinkled. “I’m here to collect Mayor Dorian’s loan. Are you the recipient?” Pete rolled his eyes in a playfully

The bag of boar tusks hit Lyle’s counter with a satisfying clatter. The blacksmith glanced into the bag. Haru swore she caught something that resembled approval crossing his stony gaze. “I use these on hilts,” he explained brusquely. Haru nodded. Short and to the point. Despite his rough attitude, she wished for more quest givers like Lyle. “Now, I'll have you know that I don't take loans from anyone, especially men the likes of Dorian White. You might try old Pete Larkin. He spends all his time fishing for river monsters or some such nonsense. Without a real job, the man could probably

As feral as the rest, the boar pursued her even as she fell back; with a horrible noise, it pressed forward and savaged her arm. Acanthus yelled, and drew her sword back. It began to glow. She felt the hum, and the warm tingle told her she was preparing the boar’s final blow. The hum resonated throughout her entire body. The tingling screamed to be unleashed, it needed to be let loose NOW— No. Focus. Don’t release early. Wait for the charge. Patient as ever, Haru waited. And waited. The hum became so violent she thought it might shake the sword loose from her grip. But she persi

Haru had to travel a small ways to find her last boar. By then, she had fashioned a makeshift mask with some of her spare layers. The weather was mild anyways, all of her extra coats and buckles were just for show. Unlike the other boars, she approached confidently, blade at the ready. Despite approaching from behind, the boar bristled and turned to her once she was in range. I’m sure there’s some kind of stealth in this game. Otherwise, no chance to sneak up on these guys. This boar seemed bigger than the other two, but Haru kept telling herself it wasn’t the case. It certainly felt

Haru sat roughly in the field. If two boars had taken half her health, she would likely be alright fighting the third immediately. But “likely” wasn’t the kind of chance Haru would stake her life on. So she popped open her waterskin and took a few long drinks. It was not as satisfying as she remembered water in real life, but it wasn’t as bad as the other food she had to put up with here. When she first arrived, she had tried not eating. But the game forced tiredness onto her, which frustrated Haru to no end. It’s not like we even have to eat in VR! It’s just another restriction added to

With a careful sidestep, Haru dodged the initial charge, and brought her blade up in an arc. It gouged a large chunk of the boar’s flesh, replaced by a strange, reddish grid. It was odd that a game that killed people would care about portraying graphic violence. The boar took a few steps, and with a weak squeal, collapsed to the ground. She checked herself again for wounds, and was pleased that she had dodged the boar’s attacks this time. Even in such a short time, I’m improving bit by bit. It was satisfying to have noticeable progress in a short amount of time. But she was familiar with

Haru was quickly learning that she had two modes: too cautious and too reckless. Anytime she worried too much about defense, she failed to land a single blow. Whenever she dove in for the strike, the boar found an opening and returned the favor. She held her side, sword outstretched defensively. A red gridded wound had opened up on her side. But she had been able to hit the boar as well. Again, it stood, but only barely. Lyle’s sword is starting to feel like a nuisance. He couldn’t have put one more point into damage? I might as well kick the stupid little pig to death. The boar

Haru had read that in battle, it was as much a war of attrition as it was raw strength. As she battled it out with the boar, she could see how that was the case. Lyle’s sword now felt like lead in her hands. She had barely raised it to her side when the boar came trundling back at her. It appeared to be wearing out as well. Their respective attacks were almost a plea for a break. Haru weakly swung the sword around her as the boar approached. It was more a warning to stay back than it was a danger. The boar in turn huffed and puffed, but made only a minimal effort to get into range of Haru

The second boar was not far off. Haru did a quick gauge of her health. It’s low, but I have health potions. I should be able to drink one or two if I take another hit. If things are bad enough, I think I can run with enough health to survive. Attracted by the sound of combat, it sauntered into range and targeted Haru. The boar unleashed an unearthly cry before launching into combat. The smell. Just as atrocious as the first one. Whoever was in charge of designing these had a bone to pick with boars; Haru doubted they smelled this bad in real life. Distracted, her first swing at

The boar lumbered at her, wounded and clinging to life. Just as she thought she was in range, the monster had a sudden burst of energy. “Ah!” She nearly fell over trying to back up. The boar reared and leaped at her, digging its tusks into her leg again. Her sword swung wildly around her, but missed the boar. I’m relying too much on the sword arts, she thought to herself. I have to get comfortable with the sword as it is, not as the game programs it. Another part of her brain was screaming. That’s nice and all but maybe we have this conversation with ourselves AFTER we kill this

My compliments to the developers. They really made these things smell atrocious. A heady manure smell wafted off the pig and towards Haru. It made her eyes water. Why did they feel the need to go above and beyond here? Just program a boar. They didn’t have to make it smell like fresh fruit and honey. Just a nice, scentless boar would have done the trick. For something not real, this was an awful lot of effort. She stared down the boar, its beady red eyes locked onto hers. Even though her pulse was rising, Haru kept her composure. She tried not to think about how crazy this was.

At the gates of Tolbana again, Haru was surprised at how much easier it was to step outside. For months, she had been terrified at the mere thought of leaving. Yet here she was, stepping out into the open plains two days in a row. There’s no way around it. If I want to move up, I have to take some risks. No more than necessary, but “no risk” is not an option. Besides, she believed Lyle when he said she could handle some boars. And she didn’t believe that Cardinal would have her fight anything dangerous for the first quest in the game. Maybe the quest had claimed a few lives, but they

Lyle's Forge The next morning, Haru found Lyle the blacksmith hard at work. His forged flared and spewed flame, and Haru winced at the rhythmic PANG—PANG—PANG of his hammer. She barely opened her mouth to ask about the quest when he grunted, “Busy.” Her mouth closed, and she resigned herself to waiting. Haru observed Lyle as he worked the long rod of iron. She couldn’t tell what he was making, but she wondered what he did with those wares. He didn’t operate a shop to her knowledge. Did he forge dozens of items, only for them to disappear the moment they were out of sight? “Hold out y