B2 Chapter 8 - Immersion
Bribing random NPCs with bronze or silver coins turned out to be an effective strategy for gaining information with the whole city being utterly deprived of wealth. The ragged NPCs shared their darkest secrets for a few slices of bread worth in money.
“Phantom Spirits?” a man with a harsh cigarette voice said. The alley was narrow but decently lit. A cracked street lamp dripped necromantic energy, forming a bubbling puddle. The man snorted. “The useless rebellion. They’re not harming Shaltar, I tell you that.”
“That’s their goal?” I asked. “To defeat Shaltar?”
He shook his head, not in disagreement, but just to tell me I’d asked a dumb question. Or so the gesture felt to me. He said, “I say they’re gathering spirits from desperate citizens, and they’re making an escape with what they gain. They’re scammers.”
Interesting, I thought. That was the opposite perception than what the woman we’d questioned before had. She believed that the Phantom Spirits were the city’s last hope to defeat Shaltar.
Either way, our goal was simply to find them and see the answer for ourselves. “And you wouldn’t happen to know where their hideout is?” I asked.
He let out a little laugh. “Northern end of the city apparently. Not a place you want to visit.”
“Does this city have places I’d like to visit?” I asked.
“The exit, perhaps,” he said.
“I see,” I said.
That was probably the most we’d learn from this guy. I wished him a nice day, and felt a little silly again when he dismissed me with the same attitude.
I rubbed my cheek while we continued. “Feels odd offering money to imaginary characters, doesn’t it? Even if bronze coins are worth pretty much nothing.”
“I don’t find it weird,” Veyra said. “Gold being tied to money adds to the immersion. It feels a little like we’re secret aristocrats in a crippled city, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah, I suppose,” I said. I also had my opinion formed on this, but my thoughts were probably the opposite of Veyra’s.
A lot of people liked to roleplay in VR, treating Wonderwind as essentially a different reality. I, personally, wasn’t one of those people. As immersive as VR was, I still saw the world as mostly a map in a game. I enjoyed high-stakes PvP the most. Questing and NPCs could sometimes be fun, but assassinating players and cheesing quests were by far the most engaging things in the game to me.
“What do you think of the whole ‘Wonderwind is pay to win’ argument?” I asked.
“I mean…” Veyra said, thinking for a second. “The auction system is objectively pay to win. Hard to argue against that. But it’s not like any rich guy can just show up and suddenly have the best character. They’ll need to level up first, which can’t be paid for, and they’ll need the skill to use the equipment, or they’ll just die and lose everything they paid for. If anything, Wonderwind is pay to play. I know I’ve earned a lot more gold from quests than I’ve spent on the game. Most good players have become rich through the game, and they've obtained their gear from raids. Rich pay to winners are more likely to just become poor if they dump in money without the skills.”
“Yep,” I said, smiling. “And I’m here to make sure that’s exactly what happens to them. Sadly, pay to win players are rarer than people think.”
“Doesn’t stop the forums from arguing about it, though,” Veyra said. “Personally, I believe money brings immersion. Imagine you were a real assassin, in real life. Your livelihood would still depend on the success of your assassinations. Your skills would correlate to the amount of money you earn. That's how it works in Wonderwind. And since you’re a pretty good assassin, and I’m an above average mage, that lets us sneak around in a city to bribe its citizens.”
“I like how the best mage in the game is calling herself just above average right now.”
Moans interrupted us from a window above. The suspicious kind, until the window was slammed shut from the inside, and the noises became muffled.
“I get your thinking, though,” I said. “I’m just not very good at roleplaying for quests. I’ll try not to ruin the experience.”
“No, no, just be yourself,” Veyra reassured with an awkward laugh. “I don’t need you to start roleplaying some nonsense. The game always work best if you're just you. I’m not pretending to be someone else when I play. I’d deal with our situation the exact same way if it happened in real life.”
That made me think. “I guess I'm doing the same thing...”
“Yeah,” Veyra said. “Questing can be fun if you play along. That’s why I like it when the NPCs talk like real people.”
This story has been stolen from NovelFire. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
She walked happily forward, enjoying the city in all its glorious creepiness. I doubted she’d be as interested in exploring if getting robbed or dying actually had the same consequences as real life did.
Still, I felt happy, watching her. The devs were clearly going for more realism and more immersive environments with this expansion. This castle naturally made me wary of my surroundings, as if we really were in a hostile environment.
Maybe the game could convert my way of thinking. Who knows.
But one thing I knew for sure. With Veyra in a good mood, I wouldn’t allow anything in this screwed up city to ruin her experience. If some group of muggers tried something with us, be it real players or monsters, or fake NPCs, they'd get fucked. I'd make sure of that.
I stayed on high alert as we headed deeper north. After a dozen more bribes and questions for various city folk, and after a visit to a slightly more sophisticated bar with a black-suited barista, we found the first real clue on where the Phantom Spirits could be found.
***
“We’re looking for someone named Chisa,” I said. I stood at the bottom of the cellar stairs to a speakeasy entrance, talking to the small opening in the steel door. This was the address that was slipped to me on a note in the bar we’d just visited.
The Northvale district had been… interesting so far. The beggars were replaced by suspicious watchers. I could only call them that for the stares they gave us as we passed. We’d also received gazes from the windows, as if gang members were studying who moved underneath their streets.
We were apparently deemed trustworthy enough, as the bartender gave us further directions to the Phantoms' hideout. That, or we were walking into a trap right now.
A pair of cyan eyes observed us through the bars in the doors. “You look like guards to me.” A soft woman's voice.
“If we were with Shaltar, I think we’d burst through the doors without questions,” I said. “Her demons don’t seem very cooperative.”
The eyes stared at us. “Your business?”
I thought about my words. A wrong answer now could set us back, wasting time.
Veyra spoke first. “We are hoping to discuss… secretive topics with the leader of the Phantom Spirits.”
The look turned curious. “You possess one?”
“A soulshard, yes,” Veyra said.
I wondered if sharing that was a mistake. I still sensed a high likelihood of stepping into a trap. Her words did the trick, though, as the lock clicked, and the voice behind said, “Attempt anything, and you’re dead.”
The dim lighting of an underground bar lit my cloak. The woman eyed us warily, and her appearance was revealed along with an orange name tag. Melina, Member of the Phantom Spirits (NPC, Level 294). Her pointy elf ears were pressed down a little by the hood of her leather robe. She had light green hair, not bright or magical, but also not disheveled.
We’d arrived.
Behind her was a bar, and definitely a gang hideout—made obvious from the fact that everyone in the room had the Phantom Spirit in their name tag. The bartender in a black suit had the name, Arl, Elder of the Phantom Spirits (NPC, Level 354). More members, two elves, two humans, and a bulkier demon, studied a map of the city on a round table. Pretended to, at least, but they divided attention onto us as well.
If the orange names turned hostile, we’d probably be dead. This could very well be a trap. If the steel door was locked behind us, I wouldn’t be able to [Shadow Dash] out. We’d be forced to face off against a full room of high level NPCs in their territory. I shared a look with Veyra, and she seemed to agree.
But we wore garbage gear. Our chance of losing something valuable was still low, three in nine for me and one in nine for Veyra. If this wasn’t a trap, we’d possibly gain a quest, or at the very least information regarding the soulshards. Entering was worth the risk. We followed the elf into the back of the bar, where she knocked on a door.
The wait was uncomfortably long. I hoped, in the back of my mind, that the quest wouldn’t make us join this gang. I wouldn’t want to get stuck on an excessively long questline. If we spent weeks here, Zenith Protocol would catch up, and suddenly, advancing anything would become infinitely harder.
The door opened, and a muscular eight-foot tall woman frowned down at us. I was delighted to see her name tag. Chisa, Leader of the Phantom Spirits (NPC, Level 391). Maybe we wouldn’t be stuck here forever, after all.
Chisa had a scar from her left eye down to her right cheek with a sheathed greatsword strapped to her belt. The hilt had jewels and some runic patterns. Probably an epic or a legendary if it dropped as loot. Little glimmering specks floated around her, similar to the spirits of Emerald Aurora. Chisa was blessed, or buffed, by something, The soulshards’ spirits, perhaps.
“They claim to possess soulshards,” Melina said calmly, introducing us.
Everyone in the room was now looking at us, and many not so subtly. “What size?” Chisa asked.
Something felt off. I peeked at Veyra to see if she agreed.
Chisa, in turn, glanced at her gang members, a few of whom nodded in return. Yep, something was about to go down.
“No introductions, eh?” I asked.
“We are the Phantom Spirits,” Chisa said. “The final line of resistance before Shaltar’s tyranny destroys our home. Shaltar holds the power of more than twenty spirits. Only by obtaining more will anyone grow powerful enough to face her.”
“So Shaltar can’t just be killed?” I asked.
Chisa snorted. “A dragon might have the spells to harm her. No dragons will fit in these caverns. The spirits of the creators rule this world. Tell me, travelers, what sizes are your shards?”
We held a short staredown. “Correct me if I’m wrong… but your gang looks like they’re ready to pounce on us for some shards right about now.”
Her brows furrowed into a frown. “What size are your shards, kid.”
I held my hand near my daggers and studied my opponents for one final time. Our chances were certainly low...
“Okay, okay, I'll tell you, but I have one more question first.” I faced her frown. “What happens if someone bonded to a spirit dies? Someone like Shaltar, or you?”
An arrow released from behind the counter, aimed at my head, and every name turned red. I slashed at it with Sablethorn, and the arrow rebounded, hitting the floorboards. Chisa unsheathed her greatsword and sent an overhead swing. I blocked it easily enough with The Immortal.
I got lucky right away.
[Immortal Parry - Active Conditions Met]
Chisa was blown back, her stance breaking. She recovered, and frowned at me. Everyone in the room was off of their seats with weapons drawn, from daggers to staves. They inched closer, having us surrounded.
I slashed at Chisa’s face, leaving another scar, and the room turned to chaos.