Origin ARS 6 (15 page)

"Yes," said Greelak, his eyes narrowing.

The officer tilted his head to the side. "Can you add pickles? My little girl wanted them but forgot."

"Of course. Do ya still want the hot sauce?" asked Greelak. He then began to make the sandwiches that had been ordered prior to Scott's arrival, and before the little scene that had occurred.

While Greelak made the sandwiches, the officer pulled out a datapad and wrote him a ticket for simple assault. He paid for his sandwiches promptly, and then collected the ten silver fine prior to giving Greelak a receipt for paying his debt to society.

"Hey, you coming to Garr the Red's bachelor party tonight? There's gonna be some hot elf chicks there man." asked the officer while he pocketed his change. "You know the kind, right?"

"I'm caterin'," said Greelak with a hint of pride.

"Ha, course you are, man. Best sandwiches in the city." admitted the officer before he collected his sandwiches and headed toward the door. "Oh, be careful tonight. Gretchen's brother is gonna be there."

Greelak's expression shifted to a neutral one. "Seriously?"

"Can't be helped. You know how it is," said the officer.

"Yeah, yeah." muttered Greelak before he set about wiping at his counter. No longer angry or jovial, he had become quiet and introspective.

Just before the officer reached the door, Greelak called out, "Tell mah sister that she needs tah pay back the money that Ma leant her! I'm tired of her callin' me tah complain about it!"

"Oh that wife of mine," said the officer with a laugh, before he told Greelak that he would pass on the message.

Scott watched quietly as the scene ended. There were a million stories in this city, and he would never know them all. Still, it was interesting to see how people lived in this world.

His eyes narrowed slightly then he looked at the nearest gun once more. Such a simple scene had further driven home the purpose of his mission. These people were real and led real lives that had nothing to do with him or some game. He had to become strong enough to help keep this wonderful world spinning with all of its people intact.

***

The hotel room welcomed Scott home a brief moment before Herbert did. Scott and the little Grassrat shared typical pleasantries for a moment, and then something even more interesting became the topic of conversation.

Herbert chittered curiously. The blue-haired man did not know what the rodent was saying, but he could guess well enough. "Yeah, his name is Greelak. The job is decent enough, and probably a good tip for future hunting trips."

The rodent nodded his little furry head then reached up and stroked the tuft of fur under his chin. After a moment he chittered casually.

It was a bit more difficult to guess his meaning this time, so Scott shrugged. "No idea what you're saying, fella."

The sorcerer raised up one finger. "Though, I have heard that the level range for the area is eight to sixty, with the higher level opponents further into the city ruins. If we stay on the outskirts we should be fine."

Whatever misgivings Herbert had previously seemed to be dispelled by that admission. The job did seem lucrative and the loot promised to be useful. Herbert made a little rodent fist and raised it up. Scott reached down with a fist of his own and soon they bumped them together. It was time for a little brofisting badassery.

They shared the sandwiches Scott had gotten from Greelak, then left their lovely abode for the train station. A short while later the train left Valkovia and the dynamic duo would soon be at the location of their next mission.

For some reason the train car that they rode in was sparsely populated. There was a fat man in the far front who looked sort of like an ant eater. A few green skinned kids who looked a bit like the goblins he had fought back on the casual server were amiably chatting a few seats away. No one else caught Scott's attention.

"See! I told you this would be fun Garushke," said a little goblin girl. She had hair that was a darker shade of green than her skin, and wore a little blue bow in her hair.

The slightly larger goblin, a young boy with beads in his hair, smiled slightly. "I guess it is."

"Hey. Don't be like that! We get to go see grandpa," said the girl.

Garushke nodded. "Yeah, but ... you know."

"Right... Brother, I know you liked her and all, but..."

Garushke frowned at his little sister. "Veste, don't say it."

Veste sighed. "Someone has to say it."

"Whatever," said Garushke in a surly manner before he crossed his arms and looked out the window.

"Ashkanti is a
mountain centaur
. She's freaking huge!" exclaimed Veste.

"We could have worked." muttered Garushke petulantly.

"Her fiancé is even huger," said Veste with a laugh.

Garushke's snort of derision showed his feelings on the subject. He lifted one of his hands then shook his head slightly. "So what if he's bigger? I could take him."

Veste snickered at her older brother. "Maybe you could." She then leaned in and offered him a bit of sisterly advice. "But there are some ways he would be bigger that you just can't deal with, besides it's not like you were even dating."

"How do you know?" asked Garushke.

"Were you dating? Last I heard, she'd been engaged for years." asked Veste. She nudged her brother with her elbow. "Did you ever speak to her, even once?"

"What's speaking to a woman got to do with dating?" asked Garushke with another snort.

Scott tried not to listen in on their conversation, but it was hard not to become invested. The brother and sister duo were not shy about discussing the boy's love life. Scott would have pegged Garushke as being a twelve year old at best, but from what he had heard the brokenhearted goblin was closer to twenty.

Their chattering quieted down after a while. Scott pulled out his Crysta-Com and began to fiddle around with his apps. After he spent a little time screwing around, he checked to see if there were any other quests set for the Trinity Highcrowne ruins fifty miles north of Valkovia.

A slow smile spread across his lips. He showed a few things to Herbert and they made plans. There were actually several missions set in that area that would work to their purposes. Scott selected four of them that seemed to be the simplest, and then decided to do a little app-based window shopping. It would not be long before he would need an equipment upgrade. Herbert was almost done with the helmet that he wanted to make, but the rest of Scott's gear needed to be improved.

He was notably interested in one type of item, the item that he hoped to find as a loot drop in the ruins of Trinity Highcrowne. Since the moment Scott had seen them during his tutorial mission, he had been enamored of them.

Primarily a sorcerer, weapons were not really his
thing
anymore. However, there were some situations that popped up in combat that would allow guns to perform better than spells. For one, he did not need to understand the fundamental nature of the magical universe to shoot someone. Some firearms also worked in magic nullifying locations.

Another solid point was the nature of the weapons and how they were used. So long as he was within a direct line-of-sight, he had a good chance of hitting what he aimed at. Their aiming mechanics were similar to the type of weapons he had used throughout his military career. Without a firearms skill he might not be able to generate as much damage with them as he would like, but that could be changed in time once he acquired said skill.

The train ride had taken a few hours. Scott and Herbert ate a quick meal at the local diner since they would not be eating dinner till late that night. Afterward, they set out for the ruins further to the North.

The grassland around the train station soon gave way to a dry wasteland. The rocky landscape filled with cracked earth was a living reminder of an ancient tragedy. The life force of the town built by Albertus Trinity, third prince of the realm during his time, was stripped from it during a time of unrest. His elder brothers vied for the throne, and decided that his neutral stance was not to be allowed.

Whatever fell power had stripped the land of its life force had never been fully revealed. The only certainty was that Trinity Highcrowne, ancient city of magical science, was a ravaged wasteland. Machine monsters and the occasional specter could be seen among the ruins.

Occasionally expeditions were sent in to clear out the monsters, but the kingdom of Valkovia never bothered to clear it completely. It was far more lucrative to allow the ancient ruins to continue in their fashion.

Sight-seers came from all over the world to stare at the derelict remnants of the former existence. Treasure hunters still found hidden rooms on occasion. The interest Scott had in the place was the monster spawns. He was only partially convinced by the lore of the place. Ultimately, it was simply a location to hunt monsters and find loot.

The sun was already starting to drop low on the horizon by the time they found their first prey, only a few hours of daylight remained. They were on the extreme outskirts of the area, a relatively safe place to hunt at their level. The monsters supposedly never came in groups larger than two, and were among the weakest available.

In the distance, Scott saw a weird conglomeration of house hold appliances wandering aimlessly around the area. It had the head of a toaster, and a body like a washing machine. Instead of legs, it rolled around on some sort wheel barrow. The arms looked to be bits and pieces of metal collected at random, and they were tipped with power tools.

"Hmm, let's go see if we can take out a scrap heap," said Scott.

Herbert chittered warmly then gestured toward the scrap heap in question. There was a lot of open ground. Stealth would be next to impossible with the skills that Scott possessed. The rodent member of the team was still small enough to be able to act as a lure. They worked out a plan, and then set it into action.

A brief few moments later, Scott was hidden behind the only large rock in the area. Herbert moved forward in a slow zig-zag. They would test to see how close they had to be to their prey before it noticed them.

As it turned out, the heap of junk was not particularly observant. Herbert stopped a short distance from the rolling scrap pile then jumped up and down. He chittered loudly then turned and wiggled his little rodent booty at the thing.

Scott frowned then came out of hiding. He trotted toward Herbert. He nearly reached the rodent's position when the scrap pile finally took notice of him.

The toaster it had for a head made a popping noise. Surprisingly, fresh toast popped up. Scott glanced toward Herbert. The rodent glanced back to him. They both then looked to their potential prey. For a brief moment, they wondered if it was friendly. That moment passed right about the time when the power drill came online.

With a loud
Vreeeee
the power drill arm of the scrap heap was thrust forward. The wheel barrow riding washing machine monster rolled toward them at a rapid pace, hell-bent on drilling for fun and profit.

Both Scott and Herbert easily avoided the creature's attack and immediately began to counter in their own way. Herbert danced a passionate freestyle dance routine that bolstered Scott's attack and agility. Scott leapt toward the critter and unleashed a powerful flying kick that hit it squarely in its boxy backside.

The entire heap of moving metal fell over then began to emit sparks. Not long after that, it fell apart and became nothing but useless junk once more.

"Seriously?" asked Scott. Sure, his stats were more along the lines of someone who had gained twenty or thirty levels even before Herbert's boost, but a single kick taking the thing out seemed weird. It was a machine monster. Why wasn't it more resistant to physical attacks?

Herbert shrugged at him. An easy win was still a win.

Scott frowned a little then shrugged as well. All the results of the previous battle meant was that they would probably need to penetrate further into the area. This thing was probably the weakest type of machine monster that they would face.

The rummaged through the scrap heap, for a while and collected the only things of note. They took the machine core, the power drill, the toast, and the wheel barrow. Scott pushed the wheel barrow while Herbert rode inside, toast in hand. The little rat ate to replenish his stamina from the short dance, and the day wore on, the better part of an hour passed during their travels.

The duo ran across two more of the junkyard rejects; neither was particularly powerful. The first of the new challenges had been something that was shaped a little like a giant sunflower made of garbage. It had spat seeds made of shrapnel, but the force behind them was so weak that they barely made it three yards before hitting the dirt.

Machine cores were a part of one of his side quests, so Scott was not too unhappy about the easy fights. He needed two hundred of the things. The simplicity of the fights made that a simple matter to deal with. His other quests included acquiring useful items like the power drill or rarer scrap metals such as copper or aluminum. The wheel barrow proved quite useful for hauling the bulkier materials, but the rarer scrap metals were in short supply at the moment. So far he had found a single aluminum clamp.

"Hey, what's that?" asked Scott a few minutes after defeating a pile of rusty metal crap that had been held together by a ragged tarp. He pointed to a bit of dust rising up in the distance.

Herbert tilted his head to the side then shrugged. He could not tell at the current distance, either.

Scott located a large rock and parked the wheel barrow behind it. He and his little buddy moved forward in order to see what was going on.

The dust was revealed to be a rusty motorcycle puttering around the area. Every now and then it would backfire loudly. The thunderous sound was reminiscent of a shotgun, and would have easily been heard from miles around.

Scott and Herbert shared a look then nodded. This one might be rusty, but it was not a collection of scrap like the others.

Moving as a team, Scott and Herbert split up. They did their best to avoid detection, still a difficult prospect in the mostly open terrain, and moved to flank the slowly rolling motorcycle. Unlike their first attempt at limited stealth, there were a few larger rocks in the area. They used them to their best advantage and were soon in place.

The sputtering motorcycle puttered right along, all the while it was unaware of the dangers lurking just beyond its observable world. At the exact moment that it came into range. Scott hopped up onto his rock then leapt atop his unsuspecting prey. Herbert began to dance atop his rock as well.

A loud
Vrooo-vreeeeooom
roared from the rusting bit of mobile scrap. It reared back on its hind-wheel then pealed out down the road at a brisk eight miles per hour. Scott could tell the speed by the cracked speedometer on its control panel.

Now that he was on the thing, he had one problem. "How the hell do I fight a motorcycle?"

The motorcycle honked its horn aggressively. Scott responded by punching at its little control panel. He immediately drew his hand back and shook it briskly. Punching a motorcycle hurt a bit compared to kicking a pile of crap.

"Aha!" cried Scott, as an idea occurred to him. He clutched his thighs tightly to the seat then squeezed the hand brakes. The motorcycle lurched to a jerky stopped. The angry little rust bucket screeched and vroomed in protest.

He kept the back wheel's brake clamped tight and began focusing on his elemental control over lightning. He was uncertain about any actual spells that he might bring to bear at the moment, but he did know that he could at least shock the rusty bastard.

Elemental energy surged through his body, and then he magnified that elemental force with mana. It was no spell, but it was useful. Electrical current arced and crackled from his fingers as it was drawn into the machine. The power he generated was not enough to harm him, due to the slight resistance that drawing upon the energy granted in the first place. However, it played havoc with the angry little machine's electrical system.

In some ways, the piles of rusty machine parts were like undead monsters. They were kept in the world via a tenuous spiritual resonance. The stronger the monster, the stronger that resonance. The motorcycle took several minutes of continuous charge to finally give up the machine ghost, so to speak.

The motorcycle rattled to a stop and Scott sighed. "Tougher, but not quite where we need to be for training." he said.

It was true enough. The rust-bucket had required more effort than the first three scrap heaps. However, if his most basic capacity to use elemental energy could stop it, they needed a tougher challenge as a team.

Herbert came over and Scott looked down to him. "Let's scrap this guy and head back for the day. We'd need to go further in to find anything decent, and it's already getting dark."

The little rodent agreed. So far the pickings had been slim. Tomorrow promised to be better if they went further into the area, perhaps even into the actual ruined city.

Chapter 6

Sound and fury echoed through the air. The dangerous sonic dissonance of a revving engine combined with the whining buzz of a power drill heralded an incoming attack that would be difficult to dodge. A loud cry erupted from Scott's lips a split-second before he leapt back from his current foe. He clutched at the ruination of his left arm, and fought back a wave of nausea that threatened to overwhelm him.

Blood poured heavily from his terrible wound. The flesh was shredded down to the bone by his mechanical enemy. If the fight went on for too much longer, he might die from the injury.

"Shit," snapped Scott while he clutched at his wounded arm. He hopped back further in order to avoid another drill attack. He was off-balance now. Unable to move around as freely as before, he was forced into a series of last minute dodges as the monstrosity pressed the assault. Eventually, he moved far enough from the beast to get a little breathing room.

Outside the range of the rusting hulk, Scott circled the mechanical junk pile. He was hurt badly, but he did not want to abandon the fight. Not yet.