Chapter Twenty-Three - Let them stay home and comment on the internet

We sat around, drinking coffee and eating cookies—Samantha’s selection was quite nice—for a while until the door opened again. I had no further NPC hires scheduled, so I nearly jumped out of my clothes. Luckily, that was figurative, as I didn’t want to suddenly stand naked in front of the stranger who stuck his head in.

“Is this the guild?” he asked.

“Yes, please come in," Kinasteria chimed happily. “Are you here to register?”

The man opened the door fully, stepped in and froze. If I had to guess, that was the moment the system glamour deactivated for him, and he could see Kinasteria in all her glory. The way he was staring at her made that an easy guess.

He was in his early twenties, maybe a bit older than us, with a rugged face and a Mediterranean look to him. A name tag over his head, which had shown up as he entered, announced him as “Marco, Visitor, Player, Level 1”. Interesting. Do we also have such tags?

🖹

You’ve got a private message from SOL-GB-Liverpool-39-Gamma-10: “You’re missing the interface, so let me fill you in: No. Only guild officials get automatic basic inspect data on members and visitors on guild premises. There is further information available on all guild members in the member list on your computer. Guild officials can show their name and title if they deem it necessary, although your name badge should suffice as it has the same data. Some people mistrust physical objects, stating they can be forged. The system tag cannot. Cc: Livia.” Reply? (1) Yes. (2) No.

Thanks Ten. I relaxed back into the couch and watched Marco, trying not to stare too obviously.

He nodded towards us and walked up to the counter. “Um, yes. The system said the guild will now handle quests? They’ve disappeared from my interface…”

“Yes, Marco,” Kinasteria said in her cheery customer service voice. “Now that the first player-owned public guild has been founded, it will indeed handle quests, quest rewards and other services. We can also help you find a group and will soon offer basic potions for purchase. Other services, like healing and skill training, will follow in time whenever we can afford to buy the facilities. This is where your guild taxes come into play.”

Nice. She was tying the guild tax directly into the tax. That way, people will want to pay them, I guessed.

“That sounds great,” Marco said. “What do I need to do?”

“It is simple. The system handles almost all of it automatically. I will send you the application form now. You only need to review the rules and accept them. Then you’re a guild member. There is a small application fee, but we can let you pay it off as you earn coins.”

“Coins?”

“Coins are the system currency. A system coin is worth about 50 pounds, but that comparison is very flawed as there is almost no overlap in wares and services you can buy with the two currencies. Most guild services, as well as quest rewards are in coins, but there are always exceptions. While the guild’s mistress prima owns this place outright,”—Hey, what? That was news to me!—“she has to pay utilities like electricity and water with human money.”

“Mistress? And you said player-owned earlier? So a human woman runs this place?”

“Indeed. She and her family jumped at the chance to contribute to the community and established the guild in record time. You can meet her if you want?”

I had stood up the moment he inquired and silently walked up to stand behind him, now waiting for his reply.

“I, I’m not sure,” he said. “I guess I can’t avoid it, with how few players there are, can I?”

“Oh, come on,” I said loudly. “Why is everyone afraid I’d bite their head off? I only do that to monsters.”

He jumped and would have hopped onto Kinasteria’s arms had the counter not been in the way. His eyes got wide when he saw me. I guess I wasn’t what he had expected, being dressed in old jeans and a tee that had gone through the wash a dozen times too often.

“Hi Marco, I’m Jane.” I extended my hand, and to his credit, he took it. His handshake was restrained as if he didn’t want to hurt me, so I put a bit more force in than I would usually do to compensate. No, I wasn’t pressing hard, but I had a good deal more strength than a level one human. And I stopped before his bones gave out. Barely, but I did.

“Oh, sorry,” I said. “You’re still level one?” I pretended not to know. That was easier than admitting I had misjudged my strength.

“Yes, fuck, that hurts,” he clamped his hand between his legs. “What level are you?”

“Guild secret,” I said. “But I sparred with that group level 20 troll yesterday. I’m still here; he is not.” Call me a poser, but as guilt mistress, I had to look strong, didn’t I?

“The one that has ghouls now?”

“Yes, that one. We’ve been thinking about taking those out, the site is directly next to a school, but we’ve been busy with the guild so far. Getting the place, cleaning it up, hiring employees, and all the paperwork to make it legal in both worlds.”

“You did this all in one morning?”

“Yes. But we had a late start. Breakfast got a nice little four-way dessert if you know what I mean.” He obviously did not. “But let me introduce you to my fam. This is Livia, my fiancée, and these are Samantha and Geraldine, our girlfriends.” That jogged his imagination, although I got the impression he didn’t trust his instinct on what “girlfriend” implied here.

“But I’ll let you get back to your registration. You are our first regular member. Feel free to hang here until others show up to form a group. You do not want to tackle a quest with less than the given group strength. That will end deadly very quickly. We’ve seen that twice already. Messy.” And both times we had prevented the bad outcome, but did he need to know that? Nope, not at all.

“Can’t I tag along with you guys,” he asked.

“I’m afraid not. Four members is the group limit at the moment.” It hadn’t been stated anywhere, but I could feel that I couldn’t invite anyone else. “Maybe that’ll increase in the future. Four is a bit restrictive regarding the group composition, I have to admit.”

“I understand. Yes, makes sense. Thanks anyway.” He wasn’t too happy about it. I got the impression he was socially inhibited and unlikely to strike up a conversation on his own.

“Have fun,” I said as I went back to the couch. It wasn’t far to walk, but the way Samanta and Geri had arranged the furniture seemed to divide the room into enclosed little sub-spaces.

🙚⚜🙘

“Ghouls, imps, or siren?” Livia asked.

“In that order, I’d say,” I answered. “Ghouls first, because of the school. Imps after dark before they grow stronger. Siren optionally. She’s a bit strong to take out safely, but the talking part should be doable and is quite low level.”

“And the others?” Samantha asked.

“Levels 5 and below,” Livia explained. “They are intended for the newbies; snatching them up at our level would be unfair.”

“And the rewards would be shite,” Geri added. “Assuming there now are rewards and not just levels, that is.”

“There are,” I confirmed. “I had a quick look at the quest board earlier. They now all have coin rewards with a level-scaling asterisk. I don’t have anything on that scaling, but I would guess a level fourteen group taking out a level one rat is worth something between nothing and nada.” I lowered my voice when stating our level so Marco wouldn’t hear it.

“That high?” Sam asked. “Doesn’t that put us into range of the siren?”

“Sure. If we had any teamwork. But we didn’t have had any chance to train together. So I prefer to go what our frontliners could survive.”

“Would that training room help with that?” Geri asked.

“I got the impression it’s for training skills, not team tactics, but I’ll ask Kinasteria later. For now, we got ghouls to put back into the ground. Livia, would you be so nice to call Greg? He can pick us up here as well as at home.”

“On it.”

🙚⚜🙘

The back door not only gave us access to the shop while the mall was closed, but it also provided a convenient pickup point for the car, as there was a ramp to the roof. For some reason, the architects had put the loading docks for the shops in the mall here instead of at street level. There even was a marked parking space next to our door. Maybe we should get our own car? Greg was convenient for missions, but just for getting to and from the guild hall someone of us driving would be fine.

“Geri, Samantha, do you have driver’s licences?”

Both affirmed, making me the odd one out.

We stood there waiting for Greg to arrive when Livia asked me, “Did you get what happened with that boy in the end? He looked like a tomato when going up to the quest board.”

“You mean, while you concentrated on sneaking a hand down the back of my jeans? Yes. He was flirting with Kinasteria, and she informed him in no uncertain terms that stone elves’ birth canals weren’t suited for inserting penises. I think that anatomical directness overloaded his brain.”

“Poor guy,” Sam said. “I’m getting the impression he might be a virgin.”

“Me, too. Which is sad. He looks like the macho type who has a girl in every bar. That won’t make it easier for him,” I said.

“Thinking about pity-fucking him?” Geri asked.

“Nope.”

“We’re no charity,” Livia added. “But I might give him a coupon code for the apartment.”

“Or maybe we could accept coins there,” I suggested. “That could bring in extra business from players. Those quests pay quite well if you convert that to pounds.”

“Indeed,” Geri remarked. “We get what, 5 coins per ghoul? That’s 250 pounds.”

“Yes. Well enough for an hour without kinky extras,” I told them.

“More like two,” Livia corrected me, “you fleeced that guy good, even on the base fee. He must have lost his marbles seeing a young English girl in there. Most whores are old, foreigners or both.”

“That reminds me, should we get to work sometime, too? Not just play with monsters?”

“Probably.”

“Then let’s do that tonight,” Geri suggested.

“Sam? Does that talk make you uncomfortable?” I asked. She was standing there, looking at her shoes.”

“Huh? Not as much as it would have last week. I think I should at least come with you. May help me get over it.”

“Nonsense. Sex work is not the way to get over that kind of trauma.”

“So you’re the expert for that now, too, Jane?”

“Sam. What’s wrong? Please, talk to me.” I stepped up to her and took her hands, trying to catch her gaze.

“Sorry,” she said quietly. “It’s just… You know.”

“I don’t. I have a guess or two, but I don’t know . And I can’t help you if you don’t tell me.”

She took a deep breath, then spurted out, “I can’t keep up with you. How can I be your doppelganger twin when you always know what to do and say, and I just stand there awestruck?”

“Why do you feel you also have to ‘always know what to do and say’? Hell, why do you think I do? I’m winging it all the time, sprouting bullshit and hoping nobody calls me on it. In fact, the really big-brained ideas have come from you. The furniture, the coffee, and even checking out the store in the first place. That was all you.”

“You think so?”

“Yes, big-brained sexy twin sister from another mother.” I pecked her a kiss to underline I wasn’t kicking her out of the benefits zone. “You’re the brains of this operation. I’m just the spearhead.”

“And what are we then?” Geri asked.

“You’re the bubbly fountain of energy, and Livia’s the wise old man who’s seen it all and got all the things,” I said. “No offence,” I added, looking at Livia.

“None taken,” she said with a smile. “I understand what you mean. And Sam, you are more than a second Jane. You are your own person, and you do bring value to our lives.”

🙚⚜🙘

Greg drove us to the place we had just visited yesterday in professional silence. We also stayed silent, as everything we would have to say would have pertained to the system. And while we had planned to involve Greg, which now no longer seemed needed, doing it with chatter instead of an explanation seemed unwise. At least, that was my reason. Was I projecting my reasoning on the others? Maybe they just had nothing to say?

The car stopped at the gate Bill had forced open yesterday. I was pretty sure we had closed it again, but now it stood open. Not all the way, making enough space for a car to drive through, but a bit wider than what a person might need. We asked Bill to wait there; it was as good a place as any other. If someone took notice and questioned him—what could they do? Parking a car and sitting inside wasn’t exactly a high crime.

At the edge of the overgrown area the troll’s lair, if you want to call that campsite a lair, had been in, we found our next clue that someone else was there. It just wasn’t something we might have expected. An abandoned electric wheelchair stood there, positioned to be out of sight from the road, with a woollen blanket lying on the ground next to it.

“Should we look into that bag?” Geri asked, pointing to a bag that was strapped to it in a place reachable from the seat.

“Let’s not be creepy,” I said. “We can still do that if we don’t find the owner.” Or don’t find them alive.

Again we made our way through the underbrush where a narrow path was already forming. If this became a regular monster spawning site, it was fated to become a wide avenue with time, I mused. As we passed the system shield that was active again, we slowed down and proceeded carefully.

Something was going on there. I could hear noises of people, or monsters, moving. No voices, though. We crept forward until we could see what was going on. As if the wheelchair hadn’t been weird enough, what we saw went a step further. Amidst a scattering of what I presumed were the bodies of ghouls, a little girl was fighting a big one. Was that a boss or something like that?

She was about twelve, I estimated. Small and wiry, with shoulder-length golden hair. She wore a simple charcoal-grey dress that ended a bit higher than where girls that age should have their hemline in my opinion, mid-thigh. Especially when they are jumping around, trying to hit a ghoul with two blades, showing all the world their panties.

But that wasn’t that weird on its own. Those blades didn’t look like she was holding them. Her forearms were wrapped in black leather strips, and the blades started where her hands should have been. This meant she had a battleform, as humans don’t usually have blades for hands. Yet why the battleform included two prosthetic legs, starting above where her knees would be if she had those, and ending in two black man-sized lace-up shoes, was a mystery to me.

“Should we help her?” Samantha asked.

“She managed the small ones fine,” Livia said. “Rushing in may be rude. Kill-stealing, it’s called in games when someone does all the work, and you rush in and collect the XP from the final blow.”

“I don’t think she’ll manage alone,” I said. “Look how she’s not hitting that ghoul? She’s trying, but effectively, she’s only defending herself. Not long, and her stamina will run out.”

“I think you’re right,” Samantha said. “Reminds me of my fight, just that that ghoul isn’t playing games.”

“Samantha and Geri, you two have blades and look normal. How about you assist? I don’t want to scare her with my demon form if we can avoid it.”

“On it.”—“Gotcha.”

The two pulled their weapons out of nothing, Samantha her sword and Geri the two daggers I had seen yesterday, and they advanced. Samantha walked up and announced herself before joining the girl. “Need a hand?” Um, bad pun, girl…

“Nope. But I’ll take another blade,” the girl said, her voice a smooth contralto that didn’t fit her apparent age. At least she wasn’t offended by Samantha’s thoughtless expression. Perhaps I could remember not to chide her non-age-appropriate clothing later.

Samantha joined the girl in trying to hit the ghoul, taking a position just far enough away from her so the ghoul couldn’t face both. I don’t think she even noticed that she was doing things in a clever way.

Geri, on the other hand… where was Geri? I had lost track of her when Samantha had spoken to the girl, and now I couldn’t find her again. Had she run off? PTSD from yesterday? But before I could do anything about it, she stepped out of the shadow behind the ghoul and rammed her two daggers into his kidneys. A second later, she fell back and was gone again before it had fully turned around, throwing a clawed hand into the area she had just been.

That was the last mistake it ever made, as it now presented his back to three blades. Before he could turn back, those had done their job, and he fell down dead. Or dead-er? Weren’t ghouls undead?

“Hui, that was so great,” the girl cheered while bouncing in place like a little girl. I have no idea how she could do that with those rather rustic-looking prosthetics. They weren’t anything like those spring-like modern sports ones. More rusty iron pipe with nuts and bolts than high-tech. “Thanks for helping; I might have lost a leg to that bugger without you.”

“Our pleasure,” I announced, getting out of hiding. “We weren’t sure you needed it and didn’t want to intrude. I’m Jane; these are Livia, Sam and Geri.”

“I’m Megan. Megan Taylor. Nice to meet you. But could we get out of here? These bloody things stink like rotting ass marinated in sewage for a week…”

“Sure,” I said and turned back towards the path.

Livia followed me closely while Samantha and Geri fell in with Megan.

“You’re not level one anymore, are you?” Geri asked.

“Not after those little buggers. I started out at level three from some cuntish achievements for walking around, and those walking stink piles got me up to five. I thought I could avoid the large one, but as soon as I had the bloody fodder down to bloody pieces, that wanker ran up and wanted to shove his claws up my arse.”

“Why didn’t you team up with someone? Now that the guild is open, that’s a great place to meet other players,” Sam asked.

“Woulda, coulda, shoulda, yeah. My ass. Took me most of the day to get here with those bloody buses. Then, just as I got into the last line when they finally had a pikey wheelchair-accessible bus running, I got that damn message. Nope, not me, not today.”

“Oh,” Sam said.

“Yeah, oh. It’s such a fucking pain to get around in this hellhole once you’re out of Liverpool proper. A bus an hour? Hah. I fart more often than that.”

At that point, we had reached the wheelchair. Megan dropped into it, visibly relaxing from holding her battleform, which subsided. Within seconds, she grew thirty years older, her hair lost its lustre and slipped into a rough ponytail, the blades retracted into crippled hands, and the prosthetic legs vanished. She also gained 50 pounds on top of growing into an adult body, but—judging by her disabilities—she couldn’t get much exercise, if any. She stretched for the blanket, but Geri was there first and handed it to her.

“Thanks, forgot about that sucker. People don’t want to see those stumps, and I have trouble with trousers,” Megan remarked, her voice nearly unchanged, just a bit more raspy. She bent to shove a hand into her bag, which came back with a pack of cigarettes. I watched with fascination how she managed to open it and pull a single one out with what amounted to one and a half usable fingers over two hands. She shoved it into her mouth and grabbed a lighter with both hands, but Livia was faster and offered her a burning finger. When had she learnt that spell? Or did she have a witches’ equivalent of a pocket knife with 13 tools and a flashlight?

“Here you go,” she said.

“That’s handy, gal,” Megan replied. “Any chance you could teach me?”

“I don’t know. Do you have a spellcasting skill? Maybe as a learnable one?”

“Nope. Not a speck of magic on this god-damned thing.” She took a long pull. “Hey, don’t judge me. I’m not fated becoming a FOP anyway. Kidneys’ only working the Spanish model—work two hours, make siesta for three—and the rest ain’t no happy neither.”

“We could take you with us to the guild,” Geri said. “We’re here by car. We’d need to squeeze a bit, but that’s fine with us, isn’t it?” We all nodded sheepishly.

There was no hurry with Megan still smoking, so to fill the time, I asked, “How long can you hold that battle form? Livia taps out after two minutes; I can switch freely with no limit at all.”

“Bout twenty minutes, maybe half’n if I push it. Just short enough that it isn’t bloody useful in real life. Not that it would, with those blades. Would ’ave the effin’ coppers tackling for a psycho me five minutes in, I reckon.”

“If it’s a skill and not an ability, that should increase with higher levels. Mine also promises more control over partial transformations.”

“Now, that would be bloody neat. Yeah, it is a skill. How do I level that sucker up? Didn’t get to level two like some others from that fight.”

“Slowly. I think for me, it is that I gain skill XP from transforming, but it’s like 3 XP or so each time. Yours may be from transforming or from staying transformed, no idea.”

She had finished, so I started to walk towards the car slowly. My plan was utterly shattered when Megan started to move. Her wheelchair seemed to only have one speed setting, “uncomfortable to walk at the same speed”. It was just a tad too fast to walk and not fast enough to jog. Well, the NHS was many things, but giving out luxury wheelchairs apparently wasn’t one of them.

But that had a positive benefit, too, as Greg managed to stow it in the car. One that was as big and full-featured as those I’d seen on TV wouldn’t have fitted into even the big car we had. Getting us four girls onto the backseat was another struggle. Not because there wasn’t enough space, there was plenty, but because everyone had a different idea on how to save space by indecently knotting into each other. In the end, Greg had to switch into “dad mode” and direct us like little kids.