Introduction: The Way to Kumas

The Way to Kumas is a short story focusing on a character I've made for my D&D group. Growgash is a half-human half-orc fighter with the usual troubled past and love life. In an effort to stretch the ol' creative writing muscles, I've started this short story. Hope you enjoy it!

The Way to Kumas

I.

     The memory of the healer's fingers tracing their way across her wounds haunted her day dreams out here on the plains. The small escort of mounted men for hire and their priestly charge plodded onward through the saw grass and meadow flowers. Every now and then a butterfly in gold and blue, or a red meadow lark would pass their ears in halting flight. The young elf healer back in York had been gifted with long curling blonde locks down to his waist, nimble fingers, and blue green eyes that seemed as if the sea had been poured into them. Jaxon was blonde. She glanced over at the strong, muscled rider next to her. Perhaps he would be obliged to sate the fire in her loins tonight. Damn that healer! She had just gotten used to being on her own, too. Not many were willing to share the sleeping space of a half-orc half-human woman, even for little more than warmth.

It had been two days, since the party left York. Hired for a miserly sum of fifteen silver to escort the priest on his pilgrimage to Kumas. The city was only three days ride from out of town, and yet she had never heard of it. But the voyage promised a chance for change.

     Beside the old, bald man rode his apprentice, a boy of thirteen. Three other mercenaries had been hired in addition to Jaxon and herself, but she couldn't speak to how generously they had been paid. Two big ugly men and a younger man of about twenty, or so. They were clean but with broken teeth and matted hair. Like themselves, their piecemeal armor was battered but also cleaned with the worst dents beaten out. Growgash eyed the younger of the three behind her. He had a nervous quality to him, although he could handle the long sword he carried on his back. She had seen to that, herself. The bruises she'd given him would heal, but his broken pride and anger were another matter.

     The goat path they traveled was narrow and overwhelmed by the tall plains grasses. Small stones lay flush with the ground where the topsoil had been worn away. Growgash was just wondering at that when behind them came a high pitched squeal of anger that made the horses reel in terror. The priest had his hand up over his head, his eyes bulging his mouth gaping. The apprentice walked his pony forward and dismounted. Clearing the brush from the path, a black and mangled thing was revealed. He lifted what looked to be a skull not of humanoid form and, taking a knife to what was left of the neck, gingerly carried the grim find to his master. The old man took the skull and stared intently into eyes long gone, then pulled a small sack off of his belt and sprinkled what looked like sand onto its crown. A blue light flowed in the wake of the sand and for a brief moment, the being seemed alive again.

     Beyond in the distance a flock of birds burst forth from distant treetops. These were no meadowlarks, but large black creatures the size of a man. As these monsters lifted heavily into the air the black on their backs caught the sunlight and glistened gold. The soldiers' eyes grew wide as saucers at the sight.
     “Great golden beasts...” the younger mercenary gasped. A deep troubled feeling mixed with greed in Growgash. This was an evil portent, for no creatures like that openly dwelled within forest, plain, or mountain. To capture one would make mean only ill fortune. She had had enough of that in recent years. To her dismay, the priest pointed and howled ecstatically toward the spot of the forest the birds had fled.

     “This the place we must go to,” the apprentice told them, also pointing towards the thick woods. Growgash eyed the others and caught their anxious expressions.

     “By the gods,” spluttered one of the older men, “one feather off them kind will pay my way ta glory!”

     They left the path and headed into the forest. The priest had his apprentice hide the skull away in a sack, the blue light managing to shimmer through the rough fabric. The half-orc mused again, how it seemed almost alive.

Furnishing Your Home Through Questionable Means

The Hallway

 

     Beneath the Aegean trees near a Rhinoman village, there is a man waiting to be mugged. His wife in Stret West Bank stands outside their small dwelling, a knot tightening in her stomach. She's waiting to see where her husband has gone, and to see if some kind soul might assist her in locating him. As it is, your apartment here on Rubi-Ka is looking a bit bare, and you have some time on your hands to help a desperate woman sick with worry for her husband's well being.

      You approach the young alien looking woman. She has a rather blank, thoughtless look in her eyes. Could she be thinking of him lying dead in a ditch somewhere?

      “Have you seen my husband? His name is Pietro Molla, 

Gianna Molla, the origin of the quest.

Pietro Molla, a jerk.

I'm afraid he might have been abducted by aliens.” You stop for a second, taken aback.

      “No, I don't recall the name, so I don't think I've met him,” you reply hesitantly. She goes on to describe him, but it still doesn't ring a bell. You can see she's desperately worried, and apparently the investigators she sent earlier have dropped the case without telling her anything. It's almost as if no one cares about poor Pietro. She goes on about how bad the aliens are and how she's seen them with her own eyes.

      You try to sooth her, “I know they are bad, but I haven't heard of any abductions, though!” Her belief unwavering, she tells you she's convinced some soldiers from the government are covering up the abductions by hiding all evidence of them.

      “Who are they? You don't really think someone is trying to hide what happened to your husband?” you ask incredulously. She seems to think Omni-Tek is responsible for the cover-up and may be responsible for the disappearance of the investigators she's sent after her husband. You offer to look for her husband for her. She's hesitant to involve you, lest you disappear as well. You assert that you aren't afraid of “them.”

     “Well, I'm very greatful for your offer to help me. Please be careful!Oh, and if you find him, and bring me some evidence that he's still alive, please bring it to me, and I'll make sure you get a little something for your trouble.”

      After a long run, you find yourself approaching the husband, and skipping the pleasantries, you simply shout hey and ask him if he is Pietro Molla.

     “That's correct. What do you want?” he asks, eying you suspiciously. You tell him you've been looking all over for him. It was quite a jog to get here.

      “Oh yeah? This has, of course, nothing to do with my wife now, has it?”his suspicions seem to be growing. He tells you this is something she would try. Apparently she's living in the denial with the fact that their marriage is over. Nothing more left to do or say.

      “No, your wife didn't send me.” Smooth. All the suspicion in the world can't save him now. He chuckles nervously and, reaching into his pocket, pulls out a gold ring.

      “Oh, well, what do you want? If you're trying to mug me, I can ensure you I have no valuables. Maybe except this marriage ring. I don't need that anymore anyway.” and he hands you the ring. Smiling, you thank him for his generosity. He goes on about a great burden being lifted from his shoulders and how great it is to be free. You have your own suspicions about this man's true wealth, both concerning his character and his material possessions.

      However, you can't stop to think too long upon this. The long trek back to Gianna lies ahead.

You at least have the heart to tell the woman about her husband. Indeed, she's overwhelmed with happiness when you place the ring in her hand and tell her he is on his way back. She's going to make dinner for him, but before she goes she gives you her reward. In fact, she's so grateful, she gives you her husband's This Means couch.

This Means Corner Couch

It just barely fits through the Wampa doorway, as you drag it through the portal to join the rest in your apartment. You may sell one, or two and even get a good chunk of credits in return. You know you can get at least 75,000 for one of the bars. It's a good life, and you plan to enjoy it in a fully furnished home.

      Thus I learned how to farm up credits by selling furniture in the Sci-Fi MMO Anarchy Online. There is a tutorial for the Gianna Molla quest which you can find here: http://www.ao-universe.com/index.php?id=14&pid=25
It's quite a bit tedious, and best done between missions.  However, with the free jetpack from the 10 Year Anniversary event, it's a bit faster to get through. This is also a timed mission, but as you have over 8 hours to complete it, it can be finished with plenty of time to spare. If your looking to really shake things up in the apartment, you can apply the furniture to just about any surface including the ceiling. 

Planted ceiling with Lava Lamps

You can also buy furniture at Uncle Bazzit's in Meetmedere. Be careful not to over fill your apartment with stuff. 

The Living Room

One of many paintings bought in Borealis.

A dark corner of the Living Room.

Martial Artist's Meditation Room

Jilnas meditating while sitting in a couch.

The glowing sculpture in the Meditation Room.

The regular apartments on RK can hold up to 30 items, after which any new item placed will disappear. The Luxury Jobe apartments can hold 100. Apparently in the old days, The Luxury Jobe held 30 and the regular apartments on Jobe and Rubi-Ka could only hold 10 items. I know very few people care about the apartments in Anarchy Online, but I have found it quite a bit fun along with adding an extra dimension of immersion to the game. And who doesn't want a couple of bars to come home to?

Two Bars

Behind Two Bars