Project Daily Grind (Mirror World Book #1) (28 page)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

G
reetings, Olgerd!

This is Mellenville administration terminal #572.

Would you like to check the available Reputation Quests?

Yes, please.

It was 7 a.m. and I was already busy pestering the administration terminal for quests. First thing that morning, a system message had happily informed me of my 30 pt. Reputation. Things were looking up.

You have the following Reputation Quests available:

Daily Reputation Quests: 3

Weekly Reputation Quests: 2

Monthly Reputation Quests: 1

Display all: Yes/No

No. You couldn’t hurry these things. I decided to open them one by one, starting with the dailies.

The terminal paused, thinking, then generated three new quests,

Seek out Mattais the Guards’ Captain and do what he asks of you.

Reward: +5 to your Reputation with Mellenville

Seek out Valdemar the Notary and do what he asks of you.

Reward: +5 to your Reputation with Mellenville

Seek out Litius the Scribe and do what he asks of you.

Reward: +5 to your Reputation with Mellenville

All three were as alike as... as three peas in a pod. Each offered the reward of 5 pt. Reputation: fifteen in total, provided I completed them. Most likely, the quests were of the “go fetch” kind, involving lots of running around. Predictably so.

Right. Let’s open the weeklies. Strangely, it took the terminal less thinking to produce them,

Seek out Vertetio the Alchemist and bring him 50 Swamp Mushrooms.

Reward: +25 to your Reputation with Mellenville

Seek out Theodore the Pharmacist and bring him 50 blades of Blue Grass.

Reward: +25 to your Reputation with Mellenville

Two farming quests, good. These weren’t as time-consuming but might prove quite costly. They would fetch me 50 pt. Reputation in total.

Let’s have a look at the monthly quests, then. The terminal zoned out, thinking, then offered,

Seek out Nikanor the Lawyer. Objective: to sign a short-term work contract with him and complete any tasks he might have for you for a month.

Reward: +750 to your Reputation with Mellenville.

Oh. I had a funny feeling I knew now what those two, Brand and Tyx, had been doing guarding the inn. They must have been busy completing their monthly quests.

Almost eight hundred Reputation for a month’s work for some yet unknown NPC. It looked like the game developers were bent on keeping the players busy.

In my case, my motivation was perfectly clear: I was here to get a loan from the bank. But what was forcing other players to diligently complete Reputation quests? Why did they do it? Were they desperate to get a loan too, all of them? Unlikely. Then what would it be?

Very well. Just another question without answer... yet.

I had one last quest left: the repeatable one. I opened it.

The terminal zoned out for a good five minutes. Come on, buddy, find me something nice. You’re a good machine, I know it. Make it worth my while, please.

My pleas must have worked as the machine happily offered,

Go to the Maragar Citadel. Objective: seek out Captain Gard and offer him your services defending the Maragar Pass from the powers of the Dark. Become a Citadel guard!

Duration: 90 days.

Reward: +2500 to a guard’s Reputation with Mellenville every 30 days.

Warning! In order to complete the quest, you will have to temporarily lodge in the Maragar Citadel barracks. Those players already registered in Mellenville retain their right to receive their daily 30-pt. bonus to Reputation.

Warning! The quest must be completed in full. The failure to do so will result in losing all points already earned.

Warning! In order to receive a new quest, a player must complete the previous one.

Very nice, thank you very much! What’s that for a quest? Becoming a Citadel guard? Just something I had in mind...
not
.

The fact was, the terminal didn’t care what account type I had. I’d wanted a quest, so it had issued me one. I’d love to know how it expected me to defend the Citadel from the powers of the Dark. Was I supposed to brandish my pick? Could I defend anything at all with my account type?

The forums abounded with all sorts of information about the place. It was the so-called “front line of the Powers of Light”. The Citadel’s gate opened onto the wild lands of the neutral zone. No-Man’s Lands.

From what I’d heard, the Citadel’s walls were stormed daily by monsters. Only very well-trained warriors chose to go there. Every now and again it was attacked by players of the Dark—top levels normally. They came there craving blood, seeking to level up Valor and Fury. Citadel was one nasty place, I tell you. But it looked as if it might need some regular Grinders too.

Actually... did they have mines there? I opened the map. Oh. Lady Mel, my very own employer, seemed to own some land in the vicinity of the Citadel. Very well, let’s have a look. What did we have here… mines, mines… where are they… Got it! Emerald fields! Two of them!

I closed the map and shook my head. Not a good idea. This Citadel was hell. Definitely not the right place for the likes of me. Forget it, Olgerd. Just forget it.

I did some more math. If I stayed in Mellenville proper and completed all the required quests, I’d still have about 1400 pt. Reputation a month. And I shouldn’t forget that I might come across more of these surprise quests every month. How many little boys were there in this city who liked to play by its fountains? What if one of them needed to save a kitten from a tree?

The difference between the two schemes was 1100 points. In the course of the previous morning alone I’d already earned 400. What was the point in risking my butt on the front line? No. If the truth were known, something didn’t feel right. It just didn’t. What if my yesterday’s success was a glitch, pure and simple? A bug, as Tyx had suggested? That raised another question: why would level-100 players choose to guard some useless little inn instead of joining the battle on the Citadel’s walls?

This was difficult to fathom. Too many things to consider. One thing for sure: I shouldn’t jump the gun. What was it the Roman Emperor Octavianus Augustus a.k.a. Julius Caesar had said? “Make haste slowly”. That was exactly what I had to do: make haste slowly. To continue Mr. Octavianus’ quotation analogy, my idea was not to repeat the mistake of that fisherman who tried to fish with a hook of gold.

For a start, I had to accept all quests apart from the last one. Then we’d see. Let’s check the resources first.

I opened the auction and entered Swamp Mushrooms into the Search box. What did we have here? Hundreds of offers, all of them in bundles of 50. Oh-kay. It looked as if the quest kept coming up time and time again. Not good news for Dmitry who used to tell me that every quest was unique in Mellenville.

The prices were more or less the same. I didn’t notice any drastic disparity.

The blades of blue grass and the swamp mushrooms cost me fifty-five gold in total. The weekly quests would come to about two hundred. And that was the best-case scenario.

By 5 p.m., I’d finished all the errands, having earned 65 points. I’d also signed a contract with Nikanor and even completed two of his tasks. The lawyer had turned out to be a grumbling old bastard constantly unhappy about something. Actually, what did it matter? I’d met worse humans. And he wasn’t human even—just some miserable NPC.

I hadn’t come across any more surprise quests though. Most likely, what had happened on my first day in town must have indeed been a glitch. All the NPCs I’d come across today were extremely friendly with me—but that was the extent of it.

The portal station met me with a bustling noise. My emerald fields awaited me. Once I was back in Verdaille, I’d have to buy some sandwiches for a quick snack on my way to work. I still had my quota to meet. Last night, my skill level had reached 109. The game developers had reacted by upping the ante to 270: the level necessary to become a Master Digger. With a little help from my Operator, I might do it within a week. No idea what I would’ve done without it.

While I queued for the ticket, I opened the Map of the Der Swyor Clan’s Trade Routes. The Elders Grilby and Adkhur lived in the lands controlled by the forces of Light. The former, “the crafting pioneer”, had his residence in the Gray Cliffs. The other one—the patron of some “younger race” or whoever he was—lived in the Woods of Lirtia. Judging by the map, both locations were quite close to the capital. Even Verdaille was further than that. I’d have to check the ticket prices.

By then, I was first in the queue. I “greeted” the terminal, then entered:

Gray Cliffs

So! Not bad. The jump to the settlement nearest to the location would cost me ten gold. Same as Verdaille, basically. I checked the Woods of Lirtia. Same story, the distance slightly greater.

So, Sir Olgerd, what do you think? Should you pay a visit to the crafting pioneer? Now was just as good a time as any. Should I make haste slowly? I still had enough time to do my quota in the mine. The jumps were going to cost me, but I just hoped it was worth it. I was almost sure that Master Grilby was an NPC created by my hyperactive patron programmer.

That decided it, then. I had to go and visit him.

Malburg turned out to be a neat quiet town. I had once been on a business trip to a one-horse Spanish settlement clinging to the foot of a mountain. That’s exactly what Malburg looked like. The effect was identical: the Cliffs were still at least a half-hour brisk walk away but they seemed to be rising up just behind the town wall.

I set my satnav to Gray Cliffs and walked out of Malburg toward their darkening range. The guards by the town gate greeted me respectfully, their curious stares following me. Apparently, the mine diggers of my caliber were a rare sight here. Then again, what did they care where this experienced Dwarf prospector was heading?

The higher I climbed, the narrower the road grew. Once I reached the cliffs it had turned into a barely visible trail. It must have once followed the bed of a mountain river that had at some point in the past changed its flow due to some geologic shift higher up.

I was almost there. Finally, my satnav reported the end of the route. I could see it myself. I stood facing the dark mouth of a cave. Not a single terminal in sight, which meant there were no resources to mine here. I hadn’t received any system messages announcing my arrival at an instance. Was it just a regular cave, maybe?

I reopened the map. The location was correct. This was where I was supposed to find Master Grilby who’d “uncovered the Power of Stone and sampled the greatness of Isilird, the heavenly steel”.

I took a deep breath and stepped into the cave’s gloomy depths. Still no system messages. Very well then. Let’s continue. This looked like a regular cave indeed. I could stand upright even though I had to squeeze my way through the narrow passage. The good news was, Ennans’ eyes adapted to darkness easily.

The rocky corridor was heading downward—I knew I couldn’t feel it but still I did.

I kept descending like that for several minutes. This Elder liked his dwellings deep, didn’t he? How on earth did he live here? If this was the only entrance to his halls, I didn’t envy him. Imagine having to squeeze yourself through piles of rock day in, day out. Personally, I’d have found myself something more convenient.

Ah! I glimpsed the dull flicker of a light. The tunnel was growing wider and lighter.

Was it my imagination or could I really hear someone groaning weakly? I hastened my step. That’s right: someone was groaning here. I darted forward.

Soon I found myself in a small cozy cave. An enormous fireplace faced the entrance. No, not a fireplace—a forging furnace. I could see an anvil with its hammer, some pliers and other tools. This was a smithy. And judging by a small bed in the corner, a low table and some shelves holding tiny pots and plates, the blacksmith lived here too. But where was he?

A weak groan came from the direction of the bed, indicating the location of the cave’s owner. I’d failed to notice his frail little body amid the rags.

I hurried over.

An Ennan. An
old
one. He was emaciated beyond belief. His eyes were closed. His parched lips kept mouthing something. The old boy seemed to have fever.

The weak fire in the furnace was expiring. I shivered. The place seemed to be getting colder. The old man wore some filthy rags. He was shuddering.

He needed to get warm. I pulled off my jacket and wrapped him in it. That’s better. My Energy levels had dropped but that was irrelevant. I dragged the bed closer to the fire. The cave echoed with the screeching sound of its legs scoring against the rock floor. Now, now. The old boy seemed to be getting warmer—but the fire was dying...