Hunter's Bond, page 12
It all reminded him of the hotel he and his parents had stayed at when he was a kid. The whole thing was themed around an accompanying theme park, and the kitschy jungle decor had been turned up to eleven. He remembered enjoying it back then, but the idea of staying in a place like that without central air conditioning made him woozy.
Zindar headed right for the stairs, getting a few looks from the patrons that sat in the common room on comically small seats with huge mugs practically glued to their hands. Every person they passed was human as far as Arheis could tell, and he really hoped he wasn’t going to bear witness to some kind of prejudicial outcry.
Thankfully the two of them were allowed to pass without incident, and Arheis hobbled his way up the creaking stairs, making sure he had a hand on the wall at all times. The second floor—which just seemed to consist of a handful of rooms—was decorated with plants and tapestries, with a window at the far end that let some light and air into the stuffy hallway. Zindar paid his surroundings no mind and fished a key out of an unseen pocket, sliding it into the lock of one of the doors. The whole thing rattled on its hinges as the lynx-man tried to turn the key. The teeth stuck in the lock—enough to where it looked like this might not be the right door—but eventually Zindar pulled it free and the room was unlocked.
The room itself was nothing special. It had the same sparsity as one of the cheap motels Arheis had stayed at while roadtripping with his best friend the summer before college. There was a single bed, though instead of a shoddy springboard mattress, this was a lumpy thing likely filled with straw or some other cheap material. There was a single pillow and a threadbare blanket, with no sheets to speak of. A chest of drawers was the only other noteworthy piece of furniture in the small room, and it looked like someone had taken a whip to the sides of it, with huge gashes taken out of the wood for no apparent reason.
There was a rug, Arheis noticed with some relief. That was almost certainly where he was going to be sleeping, and on the whole, it was probably about as comfortable as the mattress.
“It’s not much,” Zindar said sheepishly.
That was an understatement. But Arheis’ mother hadn’t raised a fool—or an asshole. He smiled, grateful for what he had. “It’s better than sleeping outside. And a lot better than being Nepondus food. Thank you, by the way. For getting me here. I owe you one.”
Zindar’s ear flicked—a slightly different motion from the obvious agitation he’d seen earlier. It seemed to better match the smile he wore. “I don’t know about that.”
> Your relationship with Zindar has improved.
It was a small notification, floating in the corner of his consciousness before it disappeared. Arheis might not have even noticed it but for the fact that Apex never had a reputation system before. Not a true system, anyway. Some of the higher level quests were gated by one’s favor with the Guild, but it was nothing like this. Building relationships with NPCs was something that never existed before.
Wondering if there were any numbers or information behind it, Arheis tucked that bit of questioning away. He’d check when his inattention wouldn’t be noticed. It’d give him a chance to distribute his stat and ability points, too.
“How did you find me, anyway? Did the Nepondus Queen make that much noise?”
He honestly couldn’t remember now. The whole thing had been so overwhelming.
“Oh, I sensed you. My kind are able to tell when a Predator Class hunter is nearby, and when they’re in trouble. We’ve worked closely with them for years.”
“Your kind…?” Arheis asked, feeling a little foolish.
“You’ve never seen a Pruvari before?” He frowned, his nose scrunching just a little. “I guess that’s not so surprising. There aren’t many of us left these days. We used to have cities all over Estalia. The trams connecting the bigger cities? Those are ours,” he said proudly, as though he’d personally worked on them. Maybe he had. “You can’t go anywhere in the world without seeing traces of our history, but…”
Zindar didn’t say anything further, and Arheis considered just dropping it. But this was all new to him, and he was genuinely curious about what happened to a race that seemed more technologically advanced than even the humans.
“But…?”
“Oh. Right.” Zindar moved over to the bed and sat down on it heavily. The crunching sound of straw echoed across the small room. “That special connection we have to your kind? It doesn’t come with the same protections, and, well.” He gave a little shrug, his ears folding back against his head.
This time, Arheis had no trouble reading between the lines. The Pruvari were nearly wiped out because of PCs. Had that happened before Apex even became a game? …No. Of course not. Apex didn’t exist before it became a game. It was created for that purpose. All of these NPCs existed for that same purpose, and he’d do well to remember that.
Even still… “You don’t seem to hate us the same way Mira does.”
“Mira doesn’t hate. She intensely dislikes.” He flashed Arheis a fanged grin. “And… what’s the point? Every one of my ancestors made a choice. They knew what they were getting into. They knew what they lacked.”
It was a reasonable way of thinking, and Arheis admired Zindar’s fair-mindedness. He wasn’t sure he would have felt the same in the Pruvari’s place.
“Well, I really appreciate you taking on that risk for me,” he said again.
“No worries.” Zindar smiled brightly, but his expression quickly fell into something more agitated. He looked past Arheis at nothing, his gaze unfocused as he said, “You didn’t do everything. I deserve some of the credit.”
It was obvious Zindar wasn’t talking to him. Arheis might have been more startled if he didn’t have a bad habit of talking to himself, too. Though he usually only did it when he was alone.
The Pruvari blinked, bright yellow eyes focusing on Arheis once more. He reached up and scratched at a spot just behind his ear, another sheepish smile exposing one of his fangs. “If you don’t know anything about my people, then you don’t know about our spirit either, do you?”
Arheis shook his head.
“As cubs, every Pruvari has to make their own transmitter.” He motioned to what Arheis had just assumed was some kind of bracer around his wrist. “Once it’s finished, we bring it to one of the temples and present it before the gods, who then imbue it with the spirit of a great beast.”
“Yours is a Fulcorn,” Arheis realized suddenly, remembering the stag-like creature he’d seen.
“Yes. A very opinionated and prideful Fulcorn,” Zindar said, then at Arheis’ questioning look, added, “Pruvari can communicate with their spirit. It’s a part of us, while also being its own entity. Capable of following commands, but not always choosing to do so.”
“That sounds…”
“As aggravating as it is rewarding?” Zindar asked with a grin. Arheis just laughed. “It is. Mostly the rewarding part, though. We have a bond that has helped me through many situations I would not otherwise survive.”
There was no distant look, no response spoken aloud, so Arheis assumed the spirit must have been happy with that description. At the edge of his consciousness, another notification appeared.
> Lore entry added. You have learned about the Pruvari, an ancient race of cat-like humanoids with advanced technological prowess and an ability to bond their spirits to certain beasts. Because of this knowledge, you have been granted 1 point in Intelligence.
“Enough about that.” Zindar waved off the whole of the conversation. “Are you hungry? I think I smelled stew cooking while we were downstairs. I might even be able to get some bread.”
At the mention of food, Arheis’ stomach growled restively. “I could go for some stew.”
It was a reminder of what the device he’d purchased was supposed to do, and again Arheis wondered if it was working the way it was supposed to be. He’d been getting the appropriate signals so far. Hunger, thirst, pain, and everything in between. But he wouldn’t know until he unplugged, something he really needed to do soon.
After dinner.
Right now, he had some stat points to distribute and some abilities to check on.
Opening up his Character sheet, he saw a message appear.
> You have unspent stat and ability points! Distribute your points where you please. Bonuses will be applied immediately upon doing so.
Dismissing that, he reviewed the total amount of points he had available.
> You currently have 4 unspent skill points and 6 unspent ability points.
The skill points were easier to decide. His guard had been broken out in the field, and his stamina now suffered a penalty thanks to the drop in Morale, so Arheis thought it wise to add at least one point to his Endurance. More Constitution never hurt anyone, either. With just two more points invested in it, he would gain another 20 health. That left him one point to play around with, and he decided to spend it on Fortitude, just to make the death penalty a little easier to bear in the future.
He examined his character sheet with the additions before locking it in.
> Stat Sheet:
Health: 120
Stamina: 130
Mana: 110
Morale: 90
Strength: 8
Agility: 13
Constitution: 12
Endurance: 13
Charisma: 8
Intelligence: 11
Fortitude: 15
Unknown Stat: Unknown
Next, his abilities. Apex thankfully provided a list of everything he’d learned thus far, and he scanned it quickly.
> Unlocked Abilities:
Sneak
Precision Strike
Iron Guard
Strike
Tracking
Shield Bash
Cooking
Hunter’s Perception
Counter-Thrust
First Aid
Provoke
The abilities that took more skill to use like Iron Guard and Counter-Thrust were great, but he wouldn’t get much use from upgrading them now, when he hadn’t gotten comfortable with them. He hadn’t used Strike all that often, so he ruled that out, too. Sneak was useful, but not as high priority for him as some of the other skills.
Taking a critical look at the narrowed list, Arheis picked Precision Strike, Tracking, Shield Bash, and First Aid as the most useful to him right now.
There were five ranks in every skill, with each rank costing a certain investment of points. From 0 to 1 it was only a single point, but the cost increased to three, then five, then even more. Fortunately Ability Points were awarded from Guild quests at later stages in the game, or he’d never be able to max anything out.
He could afford to dump one point into everything and then two more elsewhere, or he could focus on really increasing one ability. Arheis looked at the bonuses conferred to decide.
Precision Strike - Rank 1
You are now more capable of finding a foe’s weakness. Deal 15% more damage when striking a weak point, and generate 15% more threat.
Tracking - Rank 1
The sketches and information you record about tracks and other markings are now more accurate. Locate beasts 10% faster, and gain 1 observation about an Unknown Beast while tracking.
Shield Bash - Rank 1
Your skill with a shield has improved in power and accuracy. Deal 15% more damage and increase ability to stun by 5%.
First Aid - Rank 1
You have become more proficient in the basic healing arts. Learn to create Antidote to cure minor poison.
Honestly, a point in each of those sounded good. Even the Antidote would be incredibly helpful when hunting Nepondus and other creatures that could poison. Putting those points in and confirming his choices, he instantly felt more knowledgeable and even a bit stronger. He held onto his two remaining points, though. There was still a chance he’d unlock new abilities or really gravitate toward using one over the others, in which case he could put three points in the next time he leveled.
Satisfied with his choices, Arheis closed the interface and waited for his companion to come back.
Zindar returned with a pretty pathetic excuse for a stew. It was mostly made of potatoes, and as such it had the consistency of a starchy soup. There were some stringy pieces of meat here and there that tasted like a gamier version of chicken, and the broth it all swam in was definitely underseasoned. He would have killed for a pinch of salt and a good shake of pepper. But Zindar had once again gone out of his way to help, not accepting any of Arheis’ credits in exchange for the meal. And the bread—while stale—was good at sopping up the mix and giving it some kind of flavor, so it really wasn’t too tough to choke down.
Outside, the sun was just beginning to sink below the jungle canopies, its rays not reaching as far as they once did. There was something comforting about it all. The sunset looked just like it would have in the real world, and Arheis felt oddly connected to the world Apex had built.
It helped, too, that the Pruvari sitting cross-legged and opposite him on the bed wasn’t just some cardboard cut-out, too. He seemed like a real person, for lack of a better word. He had his own personality, his own history and connection to his people. He had his own drives and goals and dreams, though Arheis didn’t know what they were.
This was the kind of game he would have easily let himself get lost in after his mom died. It was an escapist’s fantasy, and he knew he needed to be careful with how much meaning and importance he ascribed to it all.
“So. Tonight you rest. How do you feel?” Zindar asked over a mouthful of bread,
“Better. Sore, but better.” He ran a hand over his chest, as if testing for broken ribs. There was nothing. Just the sensation that he’d have a nasty bruise.
“Good,” Zindar said with a nod. “Then tomorrow we work on Mira.”
Arheis stared at the Pruvari, not sure he’d heard that right. “…What?”
“She doesn’t trust you,” he pointed out. “But she needs to, because you’re the only Predator Class hunter this town’s seen in a long time. Pretty much since the Nepondus Queen started popping out cubs.” Zindar tore off another hunk of bread and used it to wipe the inside of his bowl. “You’re the only one who can take care of the problem, and I think she knows that. We just need to show her you’re capable, and that you care about what happens to the people here.”
Wait. Was he being volunteered for a quest? It sure sounded like it, even without the prompt. Apparently it was just assumed that a PC would deal with whatever creatures were plaguing an area, which… come to think of it, that was the way Apex had always worked. As soon as he’d arrived in new towns, he’d been inundated with quests from every person imaginable. So many quests he’d never bothered doing all of them.
The same thing was happening here, though this at least seemed linked with the “main quest” of the area, if there was one. And honestly, Arheis felt a tug of responsibility back in that tent. He might not have caused the Nepondus problem or asked to be relatively immune to its arsenal, but he could do something about it.
“There’s no way I can take on the Queen,” Arheis pointed out.
“No,” Zindar agreed. “Not yet. But that doesn’t mean you can’t make a difference around town.” He put his bowl down on the floor and Arheis did the same. “While I was downstairs, the tavernkeep was complaining about Molclept getting into the larder. They’ve wiped out most of his stores in just a few nights.”
Well, that explained the quality of the stew. Arheis’ stomach roiled as he wondered what was so detestable even the Molclept wouldn’t make off with it. They were well-known thieves, adapting from their egg-stealing ways in the wild to pillage human settlements with ease. They reminded him of raccoons in that way, but apparently they had some standards, and Arheis had just eaten their cast-offs. Great.
“If we find their nest, take them out, bring back anything that hasn’t been ruined…” Zindar gestured as though it were self-explanatory.
“The tavernkeep will be thankful and will reward us…?”
“Well, yes,” he said dismissively, “but Mira will see you want to help. Especially if she comes with us. I can get her to do it—she’s got a soft spot for anyone who’s down on their luck.”
The idea of Mira seeing him fight made him equal parts nervous and excited. No, not equal. Nervous definitely won out. He was still very much a noob at this game, despite having played Apex for years. He had no idea what kind of experience Mira had, but it was obviously way more than his.
“You think that’ll work?” he asked, genuinely curious—and trying not to think about the consequences if he fell on his face.
“It couldn’t hurt.”
Truer words had never been spoken. While Zindar said Mira didn’t hate him, her intense dislike was off the charts. Even if he did make an ass of himself, it couldn’t possibly lower her opinion of him. But if he did well…
He almost scoffed at himself. What did it matter if he impressed an NPC in a game? She was a collection of very lovely pixels. Or very lovely neurons firing in his brain, in this case. At least he guessed that was what the NeuroJack was doing. In either case, she wasn’t real, and it was folly to be concerned with what she thought of him outside of the mechanical aspect of how it impacted his gameplay.
That was what he tried to tell himself, at least. The truth was, he could feel the same butterflies swarming in his stomach that he’d had before asking out his crush in high school. Hopefully this would go better than that had. At least a little better.
