Chapter 7: Chapter 7 – Softpaw Venture

“2 Zombies, coming left. Take them out Nick.” Nick shot off two fireballs with sweat beading down his face. The Level 12 Zombies weren’t a match for any of us, but it had been a long day and those Level 12s were looking a little more deadly now than earlier. “3 Zombies and a Skeleton Lieutenant, coming right.”

“On it!” Cain rushed out, sword and shield in hand, with Rosco right behind him. Rosco was using one of his two beast forms, [Shift Thorncat]. It resembled a large panther with porcupine quills up and down and on the sides of its body and tail. Thorncats, from the game manual, roamed South and Central America, as well as some species in Asia and Africa. The fact that there weren't any wild ones North of Panama was something I was grateful for, because Rosco looked absolutely terrifying in the form.

The two met the group with Theresa behind them. Cain clashed blades with the Skeleton Lieutenant whilst Rosco bolted into the Zombies. A flurry of quills and claws and swords occurred on the right while two more Zombies and another Skeleton Lieutenant showed up on my left. This was much harder of an escort mission than I had thought it would be.

When we introduced the 3 new comer players to Chief Cassil, the game produced something else that I was surprised about. Not only did Cassil react enthusiastically, a new quest appeared to guide a trade caravan to Softpaw Village. It was a Level 13-recommended quest for a party of 5. Nick had just hit Level 12 recently, but Graham was nearly 17 and I was 63% to 16. The three new comers were all at or almost at Level 14. Suffice to say, we were over-levelled for the quest. When we got it, I expected it to be a calm wagon ride with maybe an encounter or two. Instead, it had been a gauntlet of small, tedious encounters from start to finish.

Theresa sat on top of the wagon with me, firing off healing spells to the left or right when needed. I would wait to see if anything got close enough to attack the wagon before firing. The wagon was protected by 4 guard-rabbits, but they were all only Level 11 and I didn’t want to risk losing even one. Who knows what they’d be good for in the future?

After 10 of the 11 miles, we got to US-283 and the road was soon to turn into dirt. As soon as it did though, we got an unwelcome surprise. A Level 14 Elite strode in front of us. The profile read, “Ol’ Bones Manhatten”. He was a massive skeleton with aged golden armor. His claymore was massive, at least 6 feet long, and he wielded it like it was nothing. Behind him, 6 Level 12 Zombies stood and waited for our caravan to hit the aggro zone. Cain looked at me and gave a nod before charging in, Grant to his left.

I fired off a [Multi-Shot] as Nick sent several fireballs into the zombies. It was chaotic, made only more so by Rosco’s attacks causing ludicrously loud screams and wails from creatures that had been impaled by his quills. Somehow, none of those porcupine quills ended up inside any of us. The Zombies went down relatively swiftly and we began to focus on the Elite. With a group of 5 Level 13’s, this would have been a serious encounter. With a 16, 15, two 14’s, a 13, and a 12, this was no issue. Graham put out high amounts of DPS and was probably the biggest reason that we brought the enemy down swiftly. The fight was just enough to push Theresa to Level 14, and Nick to Level 13.

The Elite dropped lots of gear and gold, which was divided up amongst those who needed it. Nothing was built for me or of a high enough quality to be useful. I got my share of the wealth: 83 Gold Pieces. We had so far decided against putting in any form of Guild Tax on sales or drops. There wasn’t much to spend it on besides cosmetic gear. That may, and probably would, change in the future. Until then, it was unnecessary to drain any resources away from the six of us.

As we rode into Softpaw Village, I was impressed. The village was almost equal in size to Harehill. A few dozen rabbits moved between similar buildings. What was interesting were the large farming fields to the left and right of the village. That was something that Harehill did not have, instead having small gardens around most buildings.

Upon turning in the caravan, a new quest appeared in my log, “Funding the Trade”. That was interesting. I opened the details.

 

OBJECTIVES

• Ensure both settlements have at least 50 citizens.

• Harehill (48/50)

• Softpaw (42/50)

• Talk to Trade Masters of both Settlements

REWARDS

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• Trade Caravans will run daily between the two.

• Population will grow slowly over time.

• Settlements will begin to improve their materials, buildings, and products for sale.

 

That seemed to be what we needed. Unfortunately, we were about 10 rabbits short.

“Did y’all get this quest?” Graham was looking at his own menu.

Theresa nodded. “I did. What do you think Part 2 is?”

Nick frowned. “Where do we get 10 more Rabbitfolk? Didn’t we complete all the rescue quests?”

“Yeah, pretty sure we did. What’s a Trade Master?”

Cain looked at the Caravan. “Maybe they need to hit 50 population before one appears?”

Rosco, back in human form, shrugged. “Hell, let’s just turn this quest in and move on. We can come back to this.”

Upon turning the caravan quest in, we each received 50 gold, a small portion of XP, and a piece of gear. My selection was a new pair of boots, “Steel-toe Boots [10C, +3 DEX +3 AGI]”. That bonus was going to be helpful. It increased both my DEX and AGI by +2. I was already faster than anyone I had met so far. My dodging abilities were high and I was confident we could handle tougher opponents.

I headed into the tavern in Softpaw Village, The Crimson Carrot, and talked to the bartender. “Any work you need done?” The question was getting severely repetitive to me, but it was the quickest way to access any quests that were available. Nick and Graham seemed to enjoy talking to the NPCs, but it seemed silly to me.

The bar-rabbit, a female wearing a long brown apron over her silver fur, nodded. “Yes, sir. It seems a tribe of Gnolls have started pushing north. With Ol’ Bones Manhatten dead, nothin’ south of Albany controls the night. If ya would, could you put a stop to these monsters?”

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