For a few seconds, I weighed my options. I needed allies to take down Mugrel, because clearly he would be guarded by his pack. More importantly, I needed silver to…I swallowed…to kill him. That might be better handled in the VR world of the game than the real world, but it felt like reality was blurring. If I wanted to ‘kill’ Mugrel without killing the coach too, I’d need to act as soon as possible.
Thus, I had no choice. Also, if I didn’t act now, I wouldn’t be able to save Martin. He was clearly still confused, despite the smile, his eyes unfocused as he stared around the room. After watching the dwarves operate the pulley system, I was confident I could get him back down. He’d done nothing but help me out of kindness, how could I possibly leave him to just become another dwarf?
The bracelet could change people, I was confident when I gathered enough allies, I could fix everyone. Only one group of guys at school I knew would be able to alter programming code: the computer club. They probably weren’t the best, but if anyone could hack or alter the bracelets, it would be them. My biggest problem was that they’d formed a guild and were really into the game.
Martin groaned and clutched his head.
I winced, only able to imagine what each successive change had done to him. There were no sounds coming from the tunnels except the distant echoes of mining. Carefully, I crept from my hiding spot and tiptoed to Martin’s form.
“Martin?” I whispered.
“Lad?” Martin groaned. “Ya should’na be down here. If Vargruf catches you…”
“Yeah yeah, I turn into a dwarf with a bad Scottish accent.” I waved him off and began letting the chains slacken, trying my best not to drop the transformed teen onto the anvil.
“And ya think ya can do better, lad?” A deep voice growled from the tunnel behind me.
I turned.
Vargruf stood at the entrance to his clanhold, meaty fists on his hips, glowering at me behind his meticulously braided facial hair. As I stared at him in horror, I recognized his symbol over the tunnel-twin hammers on an anvil. Vargruf wasn’t just the leader of the dwarves, he was the realm first in maxxing his blacksmithing. Forgemaster hadn’t been some title he’d bestowed on himself, he’d earned it in-game. My own sword in the game had his guild symbol stamped into the hilt, as did most newbies on my server.
“I think you’re kinda stereotypical, honestly.” I shrugged, trying to play it cool, though cold horror still entwined itself in my stomach. “But I’m here for my friend.”
“The fat old farmer was yer friend?” Vargruf’s bushy brow cocked.
“NPC bracelet. We discovered Mugrel’s weakness and he took Martin out.” I replied.
“Really now?” Vargruf walked forward, eying Martin up silently. “That true, clansman?”
“Aye.” Martin gulped, clearly scared of Vargruf.
Honestly, so was I. Forgemaster Vargruf crafted some of the best gear-at least for warriors. Just the shoulder and belt pieces, but for warriors, those pieces were critical in farming end-game raids for the belt and shoulders on their PVE sets. And if I recalled correctly, his guild had realm-firsted that particular raid and he was fully kitted out in end game gear.
Because reality was blurring, that meant I was talking to one of the best warriors in the realm. Thankfully, he was just the tank, but…well, what was I talking about, I was barely level fifteeen and he was level 80. If we fought, I’d just lose, plain and simple.
“Who are ya in VR, lad?” Vargruf had turned his attention away from the chained up dwarf back to me.
“Just an Adventurer.” I replied.
“Harrumph! I expected ya ta have a job upgrade at least.” The dwarf continued to glower. “Ya know that Adventurers get outperformed in everything. Master of none.”
Maybe he just had resting glower face.
“I’ve done fine so far.” I protested. “Resourcefulness is a hidden tech!”
“In single player PVE.” The dwarf replied. Hearing obvious MMO lingo come out of such and old, fantastic creature was rather bewildering. “Wait until you start raiding for end game. Slots get filled by people who are useful. Not solo leveling ”
“You gotta take care of yourself first!” I argued back, losing the battle as Vargruf had enough and grabbed a hold of my bracelet.
“Cant even take care of ya gear. What sort of player has a broken bracelet, laddie.”
I gulp, he was right. Though the bracelet was the cause of everything. I want to keep it as is, but his stern glare and dominant presence quiets me down as he brings tools to the device and has it looking better than new.
“Can we just get back to Mugrel.” I sighed, flustered.
“Right. The Werewolf. 1,000,000 gold bounty. How’d you figure out his weakness?”
“It was pretty obvious that silver would be his weakness. And I was told by a lady in town who stopped my monster progression with a potion that killing him would end the infection. So we already had suspicions, but Martin confirmed it when he confronted the coach. Look Vargruf, I have a friend I need to save, and if that means taking out the coach…” I shrugged. “I’m willing to take big risks.”
“I’m guessin’ ya ain’t talkin about Martin? Someone Mugrel turned, then?”
I nodded.
“Bah, it’s our job to make you humans even better. You’ve got no race bonuses, a lower level cap, and no unique classes? Being human is more of a curse than being a werewolf. Why should I help ya end this curse?”