“Probably just aren’t scared of being PK’d like us,” I answer. “Maybe they don’t trust each other enough to form a guild. Quiet down, though. I wanna hear what they’re saying.”
“So why not let ’em go?” asks a third voice. “It’s already late as is. Let’s just leave the cave and fast-travel to the keep.”
“Because I found two hundred gold and the key to my Mountain Manor on the jerk we killed,” answers the sorceress. “Our inventory was maxed and if they were picking pockets before deciding to go for the kill, there’s no telling what they’ve taken off of us. Unless you want to spend a half hour going through line-by-line.”
“Yeah. Okay. Let’s hurry up and kill ’em though, huh?”
I push myself deeper into the dungeon cave system, hoping I don’t run into a lesser tribesman this raiding party forgot to kill, or an underdark crawler or anything else that might make some noise and give my position away. I’d last maybe ten seconds against these three if it came down to that.
The voices of the adventurers can still be heard, but barely. “I’m missing one of my Arrows of Great Fortune!”
I hiss, careful to make sure that I have the game-wide chat turned off. The last thing I want is for them to hear me rip into Nogg, who’s remaining quiet. Which he only ever does when he knows he’s guilty of something and is hoping it’ll pass over.
“Brian, you pickpocketed them?”
“Just the chick. I was already crouched and checking out her ass, and I figured may as well see if I can swipe something while I’m down there.”
“Pickpocketing. At your level. I can’t even…”
Every skill in the game required practice to improve. That means you have to jump to get better at jumping; shoot an arrow to improve your bow accuracy; strike a sword to get better at that particular sword. Pickpocketing requires a high sneaking skill, which can only be improved by crouching and walking around. The more you did this, the better you became. With a high enough sneak skill, you'd appear invisible to anyone who didn’t spend time investing in their awareness attribute. It was only while being invisible that you could really pickpocket. My sneak wasn’t half bad. I made a point to sneak everywhere in order to stay out of sight on these runs and it had paid off. But Brian?
“Okay Brian: One, that could have alerted them just as easily as you punching them. And two… I can’t believe you pulled that off at level one. Your sneak skill would’ve given you like half a percent of a chance.”
“Thank you.”
There’s a pause.
“So… you gonna try and make a run for it, Dirk?”
“Might as well just log off—the result would be the same. No, I need to keep what I’ve got so far, man. Gonna have to wait them out until I can get to an inn and lock up my stash.”
I take in my surroundings. The lesser tribesmen are the early protectors of one of the game’s more reliable dungeons. They inhabit a cave structure that gradually gives way to an ancient dwarven keep. It’s pretty cool. The natural stalagmites begin to fade away and then you start walking on smooth stone floors laid by master craftsmen. That’s also when the first traps and golems begin to show up.
But I’m still on the rocky, uneven terrain of the cave proper. Which means no golems, but also means fewer places to hide. The offshoot I find myself in is essentially just a long straightaway that leads to a dead end. I’ve seen the trio of adventurers walk past the far opening of my lava tube or whatever, the Wizard using light from her staff to lead the party. The spell effect isn’t strong enough for them to see me here, but if they travel down my path, there’s nowhere for me to hide.
I take a quick look at my inventory. Most of it wouldn’t do me any good: a few of the less common components for alchemical potions or spell crafting, some trinkets with minor enchantments that are only worth wearing if you don’t have anything else, some arrow shafts and heads I can sell in a bundle and make a buck or two on. And then there’s the stuff I’m trying to protect:
1 Horn of Aid
1 Orb of Looking
1 Vial of Bloodletter’s Baum
1 Potion of Greater Invisibility
Maybe forty bucks’ worth of merch on the River Market, which is a big key to why this game is so successful. You can sell in-game items at the River Market to other players for cash. Real money deposited in your account—after the publisher takes its cut. And with the real-life economy the way it is… this is my best option for earning cash. I had hoped to find more lucrative drops tonight, but it’s the nature of the game. Some days your luck is good and you can earn a hundred bucks in a session. Others can go so badly that I’d call this haul lucky.
Still. Rent is due and I can’t afford to lose what I have.
I hear Brian yawn over the mic. “Want me to respawn and come back? A little Nogg surprise attack to get them away from you?”
“No. You should either study or get some sleep. Second string or not, your accuracy is garbage if you don’t rest well.”
“Typical stats geek,” Brian replies. “It’s always the QB’s accuracy. Never the wide receiver running the wrong route.”
“Well, my analytics days are at an end.”
“I thought you said there was a chance at the appeal.”
“There is… I’m just not holding my breath.”
There’s another long pause between us. One that says more than any conversation could.
“Hey. Thanks, Dirk,” Brian says at last. “I mean it. Thanks.”
“Yeah. Don’t mention it.”
Another pause.
“Gonna log off, bro.”
“G’night,” I say, watching the mouth of the cave and wishing those adventurers would just leave. They’ve passed by another three times. So they’re definitely still seeking. I don’t blame them. An Arrow of Great Fortune can do some pretty cool things. Kind of wish I had one. Ten dollars a pop.
“Have we looked down here?”
The voice is distant, but it makes my heart sink. Soon, I see the light of the Wizard’s staff chasing away the darkness in front of me.
“No, I don’t think so,” says the big Fighter in armor. “Bet they’re down this way.”
I try to back up, but my back hits the cave wall. This is it. There’s no way I can run past them and survive. They move closer, the light advancing like the unwanted waters of a flood, threatening to wash across my feet.
I make my decision.
It costs me half of what I’ve earned tonight, but half is better than none: I drink the potion of Greater Invisibility.
Instantly my character is a ghost. Unlike the lesser version of this potion, there are no tell-tale waves rippling across my form, like the Predator. I can only be seen now if I break the effects by attacking—something you can only do and remain invisible with a Potion of Master Invisibility or equivalent spell. Not even someone with a Helm of Magical Sight should be able to spot me, because this is technically an alchemical effect and not magical one.
But the trio, a Wizard, Fighter, and Ranger, are all filling up the cave as they advance. One of them could easily bump into me and figure things out.
As the light floods the last recess of my hiding position, I can see the end of the cave wall. It’s marbled with what looks like gold veins.