Trollogistics looked up at the sunlight glinting off the crystal spires of Chronopolis. The whole place was more than a bit over-done but he supposed you needed at least a few truly fantastical cities in an MMO as big as Otherworld. He just wished he was in the mood to appreciate it.

That bastard mole had really backed him into a corner. Granted, hauling his goods to market had made Troll some decent money but his business had really taken off when he’d started picking up and bringing back cargo for the Hounds along the same route. Now Win Mills had broken into their base and robbed them before bailing. That left him to try and clean up the mess.

“I told you I’d bring the mithril, so I’ll bring it. I’m a businessman. We signed a contract I’ll uphold it. Just because you and my client are fighting doesn’t mean you and I are fighting. You’re both my clients and I’ll treat both of you equally.” Troll said into the voice chat. That last part was a lie, but it sounded good

Win Mills was a gold mine for him and things would only improve in the future. On the other hand the Blood-hounds had just been something he’d picked up on the side to improve his margins. The money was good but he wasn’t going to kill the goose to get the eggs.

“No, I’ve got it right now. I just have to catch a portal back to Kishik. I’ll have the goods. The question is if you’ll have the money. A ton of mithril ingots isn’t exactly the same as barrels of apples.” He said.

“Yes, I am doubting you. Rumor mill says you just had all your vaults broken into. So I’m a little worried about your end of the deal.” Troll said reasonably. It was a cheapshot but he didn’t feel like pulling punches. These guys were pissing him off.

“No I’m not backing out. I’ll be there in a few days…. No i don’t know where he is and even If I did know I wouldn’t tell you.” He said sharply before ending the call.

With his main client out of action he had to find himself some real work. Even if this deal went through it was only take him a few days and last time he talked to Win the boy said he was working on a class quest and it might be weeks before he got back to farming.

The halfling walked back towards the wagoneers guild. In a city the size of Chronopolis most of the requests were snatched up instantly but he might be able to find something to occupy him for a while if he was willing to take something long distance. That sounded good to him. All this teleporting around wasn’t doing his skills much good. To level he needed to be on the open road.

Troll walked up to the counter and looked over the board of requests. Most were simple package deliveries or low-margin hauling jobs from various NPC’s. A few were bulk transport requests from guilds who wanted goods moved from one warehouse to another or back to their guild-halls. Nothing high-value, just the stuff they were willing to risk on an unknown driver. Then he saw a crumpled and blood-stained parchment stuck to the side of the board and hidden by a request to haul 40 bolts of wool across the city. As soon as his hand touched the paper his interface flashed.

[You Have Received A Quest]

[Arming the Rebels]

[The Lunari Liberation Movement requests weapons to further their war against the royal family in the name of the rightful ruler Prince Bethel.]

[Requirements: Bring 1000 swords and 50 sets of armor to their camp in the depths of the Wind-Ward forest]

[Time Limit: 10 days]

[Rewards: 40,000 xp, 10,000 gold, Unknown]

[Warning the LLM is a rebel faction and anyone caught bringing them weapons will be imprisoned or killed, as well as taking a serious penalty to their reputation.]

Trollogistics started at the pop-up as he ran the numbers in his head. The gold rewards would be pretty marginal after he bought the swords and armor. Even if he bought the cheapest crap he could find it would still cost him 5 or 6 thousand gold. The time was more of a problem. He still had to get this mirthil back to the Hounds and that would take 3-4 days. It would make things tight but that big of an XP reward, as well as whatever else he’d get was hard to pass up.

He nodded as he gave the mental accept command then turned and headed back out into the guild’s courtyard. He needed to get moving.

**********************************

Winston rode his camel, Jeffrey, into the Riverlands. He regretted buying the mount. It had been an impulse decision but the camel was much faster than walking even if it wasn’t at all suited to the rolling grasslands and streams he was in. Still, the animal was docile enough and the sun was shining so it wasn’t as if Winston was having problems.

No, he was honestly just lost. Without a farm to get back to and with his only real game objective being a quest he didn’t have to complete for three levels he just didn’t know what to do with himself. He was supposed to find a dungeon but each zone in otherworld was large, at least 100 square miles and that was some of the smaller ones. Riverlands was closer to 700 sq miles. Finding a dungeon would likely take weeks, or even longer without a specific quest to guide him there, but Winston’s quest only mentioned the zone, not the location.He supposed he’d have to hunt for quest info in the most time honored MMO fashion. He’d have to hit a tavern.

Winston followed the road and found a small farm village. The village was little more than a dozen small wooden houses and an inn. A Guild had set-up a guild-hall just outside the city but it looked more like a large manor-house than a keep or defensible structure. Winston rode by it and took his camel up to the inn and slid off its back. He stumbled around for awhile as his legs worked out the kinks. Then he tied Jeffery to the hitching post outside like he was a normal horse and walked into the bar.

The time in West-Empire seemed to mostly line-up with the RL so it was close to dinner time in game and the bar was at least half-full of people eating and drinking. They were all NPC’s. Mostly human farmers in rough homespun and a black-smith with soot stains and burns in his shirt and beard. Winston found himself an empty table, ordered some stew and cider, and listened to the NPC’s chat.

The food was good and he got a few lines on quests. Orcs near the road to Green’s Pasture, wolves killing the cattle. All bog-standard quest hooks that Winston knew he could get just by asking but he wasn’t a fighter and killing orcs and wolves didn’t sound very fun. Winston gave up and logged out for dinner.

When he got back in the game the inn had mostly cleared out, leaving a few of the most persistent drinkers. Winston sighed and left as well. Seemed he’d have to try his luck somewhere else. The sun-light was starting to fail as re-mounted. He could have just bought a room in the inn but he’d just sleep in the woods. He’d re-summon Bog and let her watch over his body as he got some sleep.

As he left the town he passed the guild-house again and saw a tiny elf-woman swinging a scythe at a small patch of what. Winston’s eyes went up. He’d never seen another player farming before but with her fancy mage-robes she couldn’t be an NPC. Winston rode closer and he hot a better look at her. She was short, with short blonde hair covering her pointed ears and disheveled appearance. She was wearing some sort of mage-robe but it was dirty and sweat streaked and she had a dab of mud on the end of her nose. She was kind of adorable.

“Problems?” Winston asked with a laugh.

She looked up at him and was startled for a moment before she scowled at him. That made her small delicate face even more adorable and Winston had to remind himself he had a girlfriend. Not to mention this was only her in-game appearance. She was probably a middle-aged housewife with three kids.

“What do you want? I’m trying to work here.” She said. Winston could see that. He could also see the girl had no idea what she was doing. Her form was terrible and she wasn’t accomplishing much other than exhausting herself.

Winston shrugged from his spot wedged between his camel’s humps. “Was just find a place to log for the night when I saw you out here working. Just thought I’d see what you were up to. What do you need the wheat for?” He asked.

She sighed, as if answering his question would somehow make her situation worse. “I’m a chief and I specialized in pastries. I need tons of flour to practice and bake with but its ridiculously expensive and that’s if you can find any at all. So I thought I’d go direct to the source and grow my own. I mean farming is a skill too and it can’t be that hard right?” She said bitterly.

“How much wheat do you need? You could hire me for a day or two. Wheat’s only a 12 hour growth cycle.” Winston offered.

The girl raised an eyebrow. “Look kid, you’re a little young if your trying to help a damsel in distress to get closer to me.”

Winston shot her a sardonic grin. “I figured as much myself. Besides, I’ve got a girl and she’d have my heart between two pieces of bread if she thought I was hitting on an elf in game. No, I’m looking for a dungeon in this zone for a class quest so I’m going to be here for a while and I’ve got a fairly high farming skill. So It’ll give me something to do while I stumble around the zone looking for the dungeon.”

The girl, or woman, didn’t look completely convinced. So Winston slipped off his camel and dug out his staff. He raised it and called out.

“Summon Farmhand!” Light swirled as stamina, magic, and faith poured out of him and coalesced into a scarecrow golem. Winston pointed at the elf. “Grab her scythe and finish harvesting this field. He commanded. The woman jumped a little as the golem walked up to her and held its arms out. She handed over the tool and stepped back as the scarecrow started in on the wheat with the precise mechanical motions of an automaton.

Winston walked over to her. “See, this is much easier on everyone already. Now we can let my golem work while we hammer out a deal.” He said a bit smugly. He didn’t have a great deal of confidence when it came to Otherworld in general but he had absolute faith in his farming.

“I see..” She said wryly. “How much is this help going to cost me.”

Winston shrugged. “Again, it depends on how much flour you need. I mean, realistically I could probably do almost 500 bushel of wheat a week, but unless you're making scones for the entire zone, no-one needs that much wheat.”

“You can grow 500 bushles of wheat..In a week? Then why the hell is it so expensive?” She asked with wide eyes.

“Because no one farms and cooking is a pretty popular profession.” Winston said.

“How am I supposed to pay you when you could make thousands of gold a week. I can’t afford that.” She said.

“And I can’t sit here farming all day everyday. I’ve got school and I’m doing a quest. Let’s say you want… 200 bushel of wheat. That’s worth what…. 2000 gold on the market. You pay me 1000 up front and I’ll get you enough wheat to last a month or more.” She opened her mouth to object but Winston talked over her. “Yes 1000 gold is a lot of gold for a casual player, but if your a decent chef you can make it back easily. Besides I’m nearly Practiced in farming. The wheat I grow will all be high-quality and some might even hit superior. Your not just getting a good deal. That’s practically a steal.”

That made her wairy again. “Superior quality wheat is worth hundreds of gold a bushel. You sure your not after me?” She asked.

Winston rolled his eyes. “I just want to do some casual farming while I look around for a dungeon. I’ll admit your porcelain elf look is adorable but I prefer women with a little meat on their bones, no offence.”

That seemed to be the wrong thing to say and her face darkened in anger but it hadn’t been enough to sour the deal apparently. Not surprising with how badly he was getting screwed but that was fine. He wasn’t here to farm for real. He could do that once he had his new class.