Project: TheirWorld - Chapter 011 - Part 1

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The Believers and Their Lady

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TheirWorld

As she opened the schoolhouse doors, Guin flinched from the strength of the sunlight. It was now roughly 8 PM in the real world, and noon in-game. Her stomach grumbled. Apparently the first thing she needed to do was log off and find dinner. After she did so, found her way to the Church of the Lady.

She had remembered seeing it earlier, and it stood out pretty well with the bright red doors that drew the eyes attention compared to the other buildings, which were all done up in pale or dark colors.

Pushing the doors open, the first thing that struck her was the heavy presence of incense.The next thing that struck her was the architecture, the stained glass windows, the murals - the place was a work of art, from the door to the pulpit and she was certain that beyond that it was the same.

There were a handful of people in the pews, praying. There was a group of men over to the side who were talking; one of which was wearing a white alb with a patterned, red and gold stole. Judging that to be the man that she needed to speak with, she walked over to the group.

“E-Excuse me?” Guin went, tilting her head to the side.

The pastor - whom she judged to be human - looked at her with surprise, the warmth as he lifted his his hands, placed them together in front of his face with a small bow. “Good afternoon, my child. Welcome to the Imperial Church of the Lady. The Lady welcomes all into her grace. How can I be of service to you this day?” Guin stared at him. Something about him... “Child?” the pastor asked, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Are you well? Are you in need of healing?”

“Ah - no,” she answered, as she felt her neck hairs stand up at his touch. Pushing his hand away from her nonchalantly, she asked, “Are you Pastor Jormund?”

The pastor smiled, “Indeed I am.”

Guin shuffled through her pack and pulled out the letter. “Teacher Grimhai sent me here, asking me to deliver this letter to you,” she said, handing him the letter.

“Ho-ho,” he went, taking the letter from her gingerly. “Grimhai, is it?” He read the letter before looking down at her again. “So you are a new student at the School of Good Books, then! I see! Well, then! It just so happens that I was going to look for someone to deliver a package for me! There is an old widow down by the village farms who made a request for a prayer shawl to be made. It was finished just yesterday - would you be willing to deliver it? I’ll give you a token in exchange.”

This quest is optional. >

> > >

“I’ll do it,” Guin said in verbal command. Accepting the package, she slid it into her bag.

“Thank you!” went the pastor. “The widow’s name is Alta Noin. If you go the community barn on the eastern road, take the first left off that main road. You should see her little cabin overlooking the fields about one minute down that path.”

“Okay!” turning, she went out the doors of the church.

As soon as her feet touched the dirt, she began to run back toward the stable where she had met Giran Rune. She looked for the pretty white stallion, but he was nowhere to be found. Following the instructions she had been given, she slowed when she found herself in a place that looked very familiar, and she felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end again. Right off the card that Gomi had showed her, it was a solitary cottage sitting quietly against the forest, with a field of wheat spread out before it.

I suppose that makes sense, she thought to herself, scratching the back of her neck sheepishly and tilting her head. After all, I chose my clan first; they would know what town I’d be put in, right? She went to the cottage and knocked on the door.

“Hello?” she called, standing on her tiptoes, trying to look into the little window at the top of the door. “Mrs Noin?” She knocked again. Hmm. Guin looked around her. There was no one on the roads - there wasn’t even spirits. The air was oddly still.

Guin went around the house. Should she call someone to check if the woman was okay? Was there something else that she was supposed to do? Was this one of those quests that had more than one path you could take? But it was a tutorial quest… You really need to stop underestimating this tutorial, Guin, she told herself.

A sound came from the bushes by the forest. Guin’s eyes automatically tried to follow the sounds, trying to trace who or what was making the noise. Biting her lip, she looked in her bag.

The bags in TheirWorld functioned much like every other MMORPG she had ever played; there was a weight limit, and a space limit, but the bags always seemed to defy any sort of science when it came to it. Of course, Guin was just starting; all she had in her bag was some bread, water, and the quest items. Her heart sank as she realized that she had no weapons. If something attacked her here, what would she do?

Oh, suck it up! This is the tutorial, idiot, she scolded, shaking her head. Eyeing the bushes wearily, she went back over to the cottage door and knocked again. “Mrs Noin? Hello? Pastor Jormund sent me to deliver a package!”

The bushes shook again, and Guin felt her heart grow cold. Balling her hands into fists, she slowly stepped over to the bushes. “H-Hello?” she asked the foliage.

Her heart nearly stopped when a small-and-fuzzy something hopped out from the bushes. With a shriek, Guin fell backwards onto the ground as it hit her chest. She smacked at it to push it off of her, but she missed as it hopped over her head. Scuffling away as fast as she could, nearly in tears in her fright, she reached for a stick on the side of the road. Pointing her pitiful ‘weapon’ at it, she calmed down enough to see what it was.

Small, beady eyed, and the color of an orange creamsicle bar, the baby fox stared at her with as much apparent fear and confusion as she imagined she was looking at it with. It’s tiny chest was rising and falling like a hummingbird's wings as it stood looking ready to pounce again. The two held their staring contest for at least minute, until Guin’s annoyance and anger boiled up and she threw the stick at the ground. “Yah!” she half-shouted, half cried, at it as it crouched and looked at her in alarm. “What were you thinking! If I had a weapon I would have killed you, stupid thing!” The little fox’s eyes were wide, and it began to shiver. Taking a deep breath and putting a hand to her face, she calmed down enough to allow her shoulders to sag. “Get out of here before someone who does have a weapon comes along. Go. Git! Shoo!” she waved it away.

The little fox, however, was still staring at her. Guin tilted her head. Is it a spirit? She wondered. Somehow, it looked like the little thing was about to cry, and Guin’s heart filled with guilt. Kneeling down, she said, “Yah, yah! I’m not gonna hurt you; don’t look so scared…” Guin held her hand out to it. It stared at her hand, then glanced at her. Hesitantly, it took a step toward her, it’s nose twitching, sniffing the air. Guin smiled. Watching her carefully, it sniffed at her fingers.

The door of the cottage rattled - the little fox lifted it’s head in alarm, ears and eyes pointed straight at the cottage. A little old lady emerged from the door, going, “Hello? I heard something - is someone out here?” The kit took off back towards the woods in a shot, leaving Guin on the ground, alone. Snorting, she stood up and brushed the dirt from her knees and off her butt.

“Mrs Noin?” Guin jogged over to the old lady.

“Eh?” The gleeful smile on her face lifted all the wrinkles in her face up as she leaned in with a hand around her ear. “Did you say something?” she asked, her voice was soft as her smile was gentle. “I’m sorry, dearie, I’m a little hard of hearing…”

“Are you Mrs Noin? Mrs Alta Noin?” Guin said, speaking a little slower and more clearly.

Still giving her wonderful smile, the woman nodded. “Yes,” she said.

Smiling herself, Guin reached in and pulled out the package that the pastor had given her. She pointed to it and said, “This was sent by Pastor Jormund of the church!”

“Oh!” went Mrs Noin. “How nice of Pastor Jormund. Thank him for me. And you, dearie, why don’t you come in and have a cup of tea before you leave?” The old lady gingerly took the package out from Guin’s hands and motioned for her to go inside.

“Ah,” Guin hesitated, but gave in as the old woman egged her on.

You have delivered the package as promised. Return to Pastor Jormund for your reward.

This quest is optional.>

>

Guin waved the window away as she followed Mrs Noin in.

Inside the house was warm, quaint, and clean. It was filled with trinkets that looked of little value, but were well care for. “Jormund is a nice boy. I remember when he first came to this town - oh, what a troublesome child!” Mrs Noin’s smile was fond as she set about to minding the cook fire to the left of the little house. After hanging a kettle over the fire, she pulled out a set of pretty clay tea cups, and began fiddling with some herbs. “I worked for his mother back then. A sweet, headstrong child he was. It’s good that he grew into himself rather quickly. I do wish he would find a wife and settle down, though. It makes me happy that he still thinks enough of me to send me things, but I worry he has too much free time.” She cleaned up her the counters she was working on and leaned on the corner a moment, “He and my husband never saw eye-to-eye. Of course they wouldn’t, you know. His mother was the same way, always trying convert him to her faith. Jormund’s mother was a Paladin of the Inner Sanctum, you see - a great woman in the eyes of the church - and my husband was, well, as he was.”

“What did your husband do?” Guin asked, in her loud, slow voice.

The old woman looked at her with shining eyes. “He was a great man. A great man…” she brought the tray with the tea cup and set it on a table near where Guin was standing. “Sit child, sit!” the woman urged. Guin did as she was told. “Are you a religious person, child? Do you follow our dear Lady?”

“N-Not really…” Guin answered, wondering where this was going. “I was just doing errands for people in town…”

“I see…” Mrs Noin pondered. “Then, do you know of the keeper of the woods? The great Dragon King of the Mist Moon?”

A bit taken aback, Guin said, “I’ve heard the name…”

“So you have! Just the name, then?” the woman seemed troubled as she spoke, but it quickly seemed to turn to pride. “So you have. Well. You are at an age where you are still exploring the world. You’ll settle down one day, I’m sure! You would be surprised to know then that my husband was a beloved servant of the great Dragon King!”

“A servant?”

“Yes!” she said. The tea kettle began to whistle, and the old lady took it from the firepit and poured the boiling water into the cups. “I wouldn’t saying anything to Jormund about the matter. How many times did he come to this house, trying to convert my husband and calling him a heretic? My husband never frowned on my faith, even though I followed a different god than he; he was a sweet man. He never once tried to force Jormund to accept him… perhaps that was why we were able to live in peace here at all…”

Mrs Noin handed Guin a tea cup and sat down herself. She took her own cup and leaned back in silence. Guin fiddled with the cup in her hands, the tea still too hot to drink.

“What does it mean to be a servant of the Dragon King?” Guin asked, but the old woman was staring off into the distance. Following her eyeline, it was then that Guin noticed a portrait of a man and woman - she assumed Mrs Noin and her husband - on their wedding day. The woman was dressed all in white with pink flowers in her hair. She was lovely, with blonde hair falling just to her shoulders. The man wasn’t to be called handsome, with a thick brow, uneven small eyes, a slightly bulbous nose, and a heavy-set jaw, but there was something undeniably attractive about him in that picture. His formal wear could have been considered normal, expect he seemed to be wearing a cloak of blue and white scales over his shoulder.

It was interesting. Smirking into her cup, Guin’s eyes darted around. Slowly starting to understand what she had read about the importance of talking to people in town and developing relationships with them, she had a feeling that simply talking to this woman had shown her the path to two classes she could choose to pursue. Someone on the forums suggested that every NPC in the game world was connected to at least one class. Since every NPC in the game had, at the very least, the ability to pass on their own profession, this made sense. That said, it was the NPCs who gave quests unrelated to their own professions that were the ones people really needed to pay attention to.

The two drank their tea in silence, and then Guin said, “Mrs Noin, I’ll need to be going now, but thank you for the tea!” The woman said nothing, did nothing. She just sat and stared at the picture with a wistful smile and glistening, watery eyes. Ah, Guin thought as she placed the teacup on the tray and backed away slowly. Lost in memories; she’s forgotten that I am even here. “Good-bye,” she said, and went out the door unnoticed.