Putting his concerns about the sparsity of travelers aside, Dakkon had a new choice before him. Should he travel to Turlin to meet up with his friends who were twice his strength and try to keep up with them? Or, would he gamble on the vague words written on a less-than-wholly-credible map, promising fast experience? He began to reason with himself. He wanted, no—needed, a lot of EXP so that he could be the foundation on which a group was built, rather than relying on everyone to carry his weight for him. He also had no idea what sort of experience penalty this game imposed for grouping with much higher leveled characters, but he figured there must be one. There always was in multi-player games like this. During lower levels they were negligible, as any EXP then is good EXP, but they tended to become much more hindering as levels increased. Before long, he decided that he didn’t care to find out about EXP penalties. He’d never overtake the others from the protection of their shadows. He felt he had to gamble on Tian, the city of ‘Good food,’ and ‘Fast XP.’
Dakkon patted Nightshade on his neck, and fed the black horse a half apple. “What do you say, Nightshade? Shall we head west and leave the north for another day?” Nightshade nuzzled Dakkon’s hand in a manner that was more likely a demand for more apple than the answer to his quandary. Regardless, it was the sort of insignificant push that helped to solidify Dakkon’s last-minute change of plan. “Off we go, then.”
About two hours into the ride westward, Dakkon came across a man who looked to be in his mid-thirties, pulling a cart which was partially filled with several heads of some green leafy vegetable. As Dakkon approached, the stranger noticed a horse approaching from behind him and froze, suddenly fearful of his situation.
“Err… Hello?” called Dakkon, “What’s the matter?”
The cart pulling man sighed in relief. “I was worried you might be a bandit.”
Dakkon paused to examine the situation. “You’re slowly dragging a cart down a well-traveled road. Did you not expect to see anyone?”
“I hoped I wouldn’t,” said the older man with neat, short brown hair. There were a few hard lines on his face that looked like they might have been forged through hours and hours of worry and stress.
“Odd,” remarked Dakkon. “Well then, I was just about to hop off my horse to walk for a bit. Would you like some company?”
“Oh?” the man seemed unprepared for the suggestion. Without much thought, he answered honestly. “Yes, please. I’ve been bored, tired, and jumpy all day.”
“Well,” said Dakkon as he climbed down awkwardly from Nightshade’s tall back, “if you don’t mind me asking, why are you pulling a cart filled with cabbage?”
“Lettuce, actually,” said the man. “I was trying to sell it, but my donkey died on the road, and as I’ve recently discovered, basic ingredients are practically valueless.”
“Why pull the cart, then?” asked Dakkon. He knew he could easily buy a ration for a copper, and that was prepared food. Dakkon wasn’t exactly sure what a copper was worth in real currency, but he knew it couldn’t be any significant amount. When no answer came, Dakkon continued, “So you’re a trader then?” he asked.
“No, not really,” replied the man. “I’m just sort of going with the flow of things for now.”
“I’m not entirely sure I follow, but it sounds like you’ve been having a rough time of it. My name’s Dakkon. I’d be happy to trade my tale of misfortune for yours while we walk.”
“Hmm?” the stranger seemed distracted and a bit short with his responses, as though he were processing the conversation with an imposed delay from being mentally drained. “Oh. Fine. I’m Letis. Mine is more of a cautionary tale, if I’m being honest. I’m just sort of reeling from it all at the moment.”
“Letis?” asked Dakkon. The name sounded a bit like the leafy green vegetable that the traveler was carting around.
“Yeah. Letis. Sure, I know. I’ll get to that,” Letis said. “So, would you like to go first?”
“Sure,” Dakkon said. “It might just take your mind off things. I don’t think Nightshade here would mind pulling your cart for a bit, if you’d like.”
“No, that’s ok,” Letis said with a sigh. “It’s a light load and the pulling helps me keep my mind off the walking.”
“Fair enough.” As the two walked in the direction of the soon-setting sun, Dakkon regaled Letis with his attempts to find work and managed to make the weary traveler howl with mirth as Dakkon relayed his ordeal in the rat cellar. The thought still sent shivers running up his spine. Filthy, horrible rats.
Dakkon finished his tale with how he met some fine people he had gotten separated from after the other group betrayed him in the woods.
“You’ve managed it somehow,” said Letis while wiping the moisture from his eyes. “What a truly awful start to the game. I’m surprised you’re even playing still… but then, I suppose I’m still here too.”
“Well, what happened? How did your game start?”
“My start was fantastic, actually. I began in Turlin and quickly found work—nothing noteworthy mind you, just this and that to get me going. Soon, I’d found a position in the order of Sheltering Leaves, a religious faction following Daenara, the Goddess of Life. Not one of those wishy-washy free love Druid sects of Daenara mind you,” Letis paused to drive the point before continuing. “Things were going well. For nearly a year, I went on missions, performed tasks, and carried out duties. I had accumulated a sizable 126 faith points with Daenara, and—”
Dakkon interrupted Letis’s tale, “What are faith points?” Dakkon vaguely remembered having read about them before, but he wanted a firsthand account.
“Ah, that’s right. You’re fairly new to this world. Faith points are a resource which anyone can gain by doing services for any of the 10 deities. They’re a real bastard to get, too, let me assure you,” griped Letis. “A player who has accumulated any number of faith points may request a boon from the deity who awarded them… and the magic of it is, they’ll grant it,” Letis stopped to spit and shake his head. “No one knows exactly why, but most requests are horribly twisted by the gods. Players almost always get a crap interpretation of what it is they ask for. Others seem to just get cursed outright. But I have heard stories of boons working out… you see, whenever a player requests a boon from a god, all of their faith points are immediately expended, then the God ‘blesses’ them. Spending more points means that your request is more likely to be granted as you intend, probably. That’s why I spent so much time diligently grinding more and more points. Having over 100 isn’t common. It requires constant service to the sect.”
“So, what did you ask for?” asked a very curious Dakkon.
“I asked to be able to heal any wound, and to regrow any damage instantly,” replied a deadpan Letis.
“What?” asked a shocked Dakkon. “You didn’t think that was a bit too much to ask for?”
“It was a god!” cried Letis, dropping the cart’s rung momentarily. “They can do anything, and I had a lot of points. They can grant miracles! Right? Why shouldn’t I get a little hyper-regeneration?”
“Well, what happened?” asked Dakkon.
Letis pointed at the wagon.
“I’m… about half way to connecting the dots,” said Dakkon, puzzled. “What was the boon?”
Letis crouched down, placed his hand palm-down on the center of the well-traveled road, and as he pulled his hand up, he held a fresh head of lettuce.