An Opportunistic Theft

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The room was dim, with only a single candle to drive away the darkness. Shadows licked the edges, and the forms of various indecipherable things could be seen in the corners. A single table was placed squarely in the middle, along with the hunched figures of three men.

"What'ya want, kid?" The man, playing cards, didn't even bother looking up from his hand.

"I'm here to join."

"Not a club, kid. Go away. We don't want you."

Meliadol wanted to hit the three men. After he hit level ten, he had spent the better part of his day running around on this quest chain, killing monsters, fetching things, among other menial tasks, all leading up to this moment so he could meet these NPCs in this dimly lit hideaway in the stinking sewers of Arendall .

Now these three thought they could just dismiss him? What developer created quests like this? There was such a thing as too much realism! Had he not known better, he'd have thought they were actual people. Meliadol stood his ground. After a few moments, the one NPC, a crusty old man in brown leathers and enough facial hair to be confused for a grizzly, looked up from his hand with a single raised eye.

"Didn't you hear us? Beat it."

"No."

"Hoho, this one has a bit of spunk." The elvish NPC with an eye-patch chortled, "What'dya think, Wulfe?"

The aforementioned Wulfe, a portly man with rustic peppered hair and a devilish grin that displayed canines that no doubt gave him his moniker, shrugged in response, finally putting down his hand of cards slowly. He glanced up at Meliadol, who met his stare.

"So why do you wanna join? Being a thief isn't exactly something most kids aspire to. Shouldn't you be off helping old ladies cross the street or something?"

"I was told this was the place to come to if you wanted to learn."

"Look around, kid." Wulfe opened his hands wide, to encompass the entire room, "You're in a damn sewer. What do you expect to learn here?"

Meliadol thought for a moment, his mind running through the NPC dialogue of those that had sent him here in the first place. The clue to the correct answer had to somewhere in there. He had been too stubborn to look up a guide to the class prerequisite quest, and it was coming back to bite him in the ass.

"I want to learn things that can only be done in the dark."

"You can go to a brothel for that, kid." The three laughed roughly, and Meliadol's ears burned.

It had even sounded lame to him, but to be made fun of by NPCs in a game?

It was too much.

"I want to learn to steal shit." He said bluntly.

"You could have just said that first." Wulfe pulled out a cigar, lighting it on the end of a candle before taking a long drag. The smoke curled up and around, the unique scent of the cigar tickling Meliadol's nose. "Okay, lets say we give you a chance. What exactly is in it for us? How are ya gonna prove you're worth the effort?"

"Well, what do you want me to do to prove myself?"

Wulfe grinned, his large incisors catching the candlelight just so as to gleam. Meliadol felt as if he had just fallen into a trap. The man leaned back, toward his two compatriots. "Gilnes!" The elf wordlessly pulled out a scroll case, slapping it in the outstretched crusty hand of the Master thief. Wulfe held out the object to Meliadol, who cautiously accepted it.

"What we want, lad." Wulfe continued as Meliadol unfurled the scroll, "Is for you to find the man on that paper, and put an end to his problems."

The amazingly well-done drawing of a scraggly man stared back at him from the confines of the scroll. This didn't seem right? Even though this was just a game quest, this world was realistic enough to give him pause. "I want to learn to steal. I'm not an assassin." He protested automatically.

Meliadol immediately felt awkward for saying such things.

This was just a game. He wasn't an RPer like Grimsaw…

Still, it was realistic enough.

"The man on the scroll committed the most serious of crimes within our organization. He stole from a member. Thieves never steal from other thieves." Wulfe said solemnly, "The scumbag is somewhere in the Westerlands, last we heard. You should start there. Succeed by bringing me his dagger, and we'll accept you into our organization." The man paused for a long second before adding, "You can take his spot. Hopefully you'll prove a more deserving person than he was."

It only took a moment of thought. With a nod and the specter of Heoh in his mind's eye, Meliadol pocketed the scroll and walked out.

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The Westerlands was a world of extremes. Blistering hot, to the point where the ground crackled and sank under the oppression of a merciless sun. Even being in the zone resulted in damage taken. But Meliadol had come prepared, ingesting a heat resistance potion that would render him immune to the damage-over-time (DoT) for the next hour or so.

He'd learned a bit about the game since his time with Bast.

Preparation was everything. He came with another stack of heat resistance potions just in case.

The Westerlands was not a welcoming place, but due to his experience on Styxx, Meliadol handled the area easily.

But there were notable differences between the two zones. Instead of every mob just being more difficult than a similarly leveled one, the Westerlands were mostly barren. There was little more than sand, and rock, and sweltering sun.

Instead, the Westerlands were home to boss high level monsters.

Few and far between, they required groups to clear. The Westerlands was the place to come to if you wanted to do Open World bosses, which offered better loot, either as drops or Elite quests. It was also the place if you wanted to PvP those trying to kill the monsters.

The area had a nickname: The Killing Fields.

As such, most of the players Meliadol saw were groups running between boss spawns. There was a lot of competition and it wasn't uncommon for Meliadol to crest a sand dune and see a fight between players greet him.

He didn't have to worry about being ganked, since he was too low still to be attacked, so he often stopped to watch. Most players ignored him, since this was a common area to be sent to for lowbie class quests. It was if the game was trying to set a goal before the eyes of the lowbies that visited.

As long as he gave the much higher level bosses a wide berth, he didn't have much to worry about.

It didn't take him long, asking around in General chat, to find the NPC he needed to take out. Players, when they weren't killing each other and raging, were remarkably helpful to the lowbies. The NPC was camped out on the edge of an oasis, along with two others.

Meliadol ambushed the quest mob, and thanks in part to the potion training Bast had put him through, he easily handled the three.

Pocketing the dagger for his quest, Meliadol felt rather relieved. He wasn't sure how long this quest chain would be, but he was hoping he was nearing the end. It was then, as he was getting ready to port out, that the sounds of a battle reached his ears, carrying out from over a particularly large cliff side bordering the oasis.

With his task now done, he could dally a bit, and curiosity got the best of him. He looked out from over the cliff face, and the sight that met him stole his breath away.

Blood-red scales caught the sunlight in such a way as if to seem on fire. The dragon roared, sending out a shockwave that even ruffled Meliadol's hair from such a long distance away. For the large group of players surrounding it, the effects were even more disastrous. They scattered like leaves in a gale.

Holding his hand up to shield his face, Meliadol continued to watch, transfixed on the sight before him. He had seen many boss monsters on his way through the Westerlands. It was a zone dedicated to such things, after all. But, up until now, the bosses were small fry, able to be handled by good parties of four people. Up until now, the biggest danger was other players jumping you in the middle of the fight.

This was different.

What he saw before him was dozens of players, all working together to attack this boss that was obviously giving them a hard time. He could only watch while the boss spun, trampling a few under his talons as the scaled tail came around, sweeping half-a-dozen into the air. Another roar and a gout of piping hot flame claimed the lives of an entire group that was just a breath too slow to avoid it.

But it was like ants attacking a mountain. Individually, they were weak, but they slowly began wearing it down. Slowly, as a rhythm was established, the casualties began to stem, and it became a dance that even someone as inexperienced as Meliadol could appreciate it. The boss's head would turn one way, and the tank and DPS would shift in another direction. A tail swipe was blocked by a healer's major cooldowns.

The group was beginning to stabilize. It was an impressive sight and Meliadol appreciated the finesse displayed.

With sudden insight, Meliadol opened up his friend list and was relieved to see Bast online and in the city. It meant the berserker probably wasn't busy. Originally, Bast had offered to help Meliadol with his Thief class quest, but old habits die hard and Meliadol had declined, wanting to experience on his own.

Without warning, he sent an invite to the berserker.

Player Bast has joined the party!

Now that they were in the same group, he could use voice communication.

PC: "Hey."

PC: "Yo. This is quite a surprise. What's up?" Bast's voice crackled in his head.

Meliadol quickly informed him of the success of his quest, but more importantly, he filled him in on the spectacle in the valley below. There was just so much about this game that he didn't know about, and he figured it was always a good idea to ask the experienced player what was going on.

PC: "Yeah, sounds like Aremais, the World Breaker. He's a zone boss."

PC: "Zone boss?"

PC: "Yeah, basically think like a souped version of a world boss. Except that its on a month long respawn timer instead of every few days like most world bosses. Well, that and the fact that it takes a raid to kill one instead of a group or two."

PC: "So once they kill it, it won't appear again until a month goes by?"

PC: "Pretty much. There's a bit of leeway in the exact timeframe, but that's the gist of it."

Meliadol thought for a moment.

PC: "So they must be pretty valuable."

PC: "Very valuable. Guilds fight over it. Lots of drama surrounding killing one. Drops lots of rare materials and gear. Can you tell me what guild is there at the moment?"

Meliadol pulled up his HUD. The guild tag of the players below was now visible.

PC: "Mostly <Fidelity> and <Fidelis>."

PC: "Ah, figures. They're kinda PvErs. Can you tell me what health the boss is at?"

PC: "About eighty or ninety percent."

PC: "So they must have just started it…" There was a long pause, and then Bast continued in a voice where Meliadol could hear the smile on the berserker's face,

PC: "Hey, little Mel, do you wanna live dangerously?"

PC: "What are you getting at?"

PC: "Wanna steal a zone boss?"

The dragon's head came down, razor sharp fangs closing entirely over a person that dodged far too slowly. The player disappeared down it's gullet. It was a one-hit KO. Again the dragon roared a challenge and <Fidelity> scrambled to stabilize the situation.

Meliadol's mind drifted to the encounter a few days ago.

He had met the members of this guild…

Technically, he also helped kill members of the guild…

Was it worth alienating himself just for something temporary? They had reached a tentative understanding. Nevergarden was a game of consequences. Everything he did was his to own. Then again, he wanted to be known across the server. This was, by Bast's words, probably a good way to do so…

There is a certain appeal in infamy.

The image of Heoh came into focus…

The choice was easy.

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