《Gnarlroot the Eld》Prologue: Trash Gear Island
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Prologue: Trash Gear Island
The Oracle’s words spiraled through Azwold’s mind as he trudged across footpaths between mountains of trash. Inside her hovel, the Animun Oracle had spell-danced, hidden by dense shadows while her translator watched. He relayed the symbolism of her silent paw language to Azwold.
They told the mage he would fail. Nice and vague, like most fortune tellers. It wouldn’t have bothered him, but he was in too deep to quit and already had doubts.
His business on Trash Gear Island was done, however. He’d got what he came for. Step three of eleven of his epic questline required making a costly trade with the island’s Oracle. In exchange for a rare [Wraith Geode], Azwold had acquired [Eld Femur]x2. Few tasks stood between him and moving onto step four now, but they were major. And time-sensitive.
The odds of pulling off the next stage felt slim. And bending game rules in order to figure out what corrupted the quest’s coding might open windows for new problems. Azwold suspected the Telemoon guild was involved. If so, those problems could become astronomical.
As a Spirit Mage, it was Azwold’s job to maintain Balance, and “Gnarlroot the Eld’s Stolen Bones” was beyond wonky. He refused to let his epic questline stay broken. But more than that, he was determined to learn [Spell: Summon Skeleton]. If the quest stayed glitchy, he would never gain his class’s trademark Skeletal Minion.
Nobody would.
Lost in thought, he jumped, noticing a Trash Golem materialize from a mound to his left. It rose from the garbage heap like a gyrating marionette on magnetized wires.
“I don’t have time for this,” said Azwold.
He opened his black, leather-bound tablet and his reflection vanished in the screen’s glow. Undecided on his casting tactic, he contemplated. Trash Golems, like most constructs, were immune to fear, so [Spell: Dread] would be useless.
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A message pinged, interrupting his thought train.
“Finally,” he said. A vital materials supplier for his summoning of the Eld was writing to him. The subject line said: “Read Quick AZ.” Compelled, Azwold ignored the monster to check it.
“Hola Mr. Spirit Mage. The last batch of [Runner Vine]s should be done in an hour. Good thing too. I’m behind on my Herbalism daily quests. Need them inventory slots. Reedwae, 2PM server time. Be there or be wreck-tangled!
-Ursa”
“Good joke,” Azwold whispered. “Poor taste…” considering how Ralos went down; perma-booted from the game via the Eld’s [Spell: Plunder Memory]. “The Druid knows Ralos wrecked his mount, doesn’t he?” On rare occasions when the three of them had been in the same place, Azwold had sensed unease between Ralos and the Druid.
The Trash Golem was twisting down the hill now, like a slow tornado; rusty swords, broken potions, dusty bucklers, and moldy robes. These types of monsters often dropped useful materials for Azwold’s Gadget Craft job—wire, nuts, bolts, gears—but ditching it to run for his canoe seemed wiser.
The game developers had programmed the guardians of this zone to exude big time trash mob energy. Ironic, or perhaps clever. Maybe both. But Azwold had memorized the golems’ combat behavior, and was high enough level to render them avoidable or solo-able. The biggest threat they posed was to his schedule.
There was no time to whittle down a Trash Golem, useful tinkering mats or not. Hesitating, Azwold noticed the Oracle had inscribed the [Eld Femur]s with garnet red runes. Realizing he needed to translate them before tomorrow’s summoning sealed his decision to flee.
So he ran, hunks of discarded items crunching underfoot.
Azwold had moored his canoe to a scraggle of dead juniper near the edge of Rainbow Glass Beach. A million wave-polished rubbish nuggets transformed the beach into a tarnished kaleidoscope.
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The slow Trash Golem lagged out of sight as the multicolored shore came into view. Azwold hastened his pace, losing aggro.
His green-black canoe lilted placidly on the waves, contrasting the mage’s hassled disposition. He untied his vessel and shoved off immediately.
A boat ride from Trash Gear Island to Reedwae… was it enough time to puzzle out his in-game errands? He opened his tablet to review the map and quest log.
When tomorrow arrived, he intended to be ready.
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