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148 - Man of the Blighting Hour
🕑 Added 2023-02-04 13:12:54 +0000 UTCI first met Bonkakonb in Amberkeld Town with my human character. I thought his name was some language foreign to me, but it turned out he tried to mirror ‘bonk’ but ended up misspelling it. That cleared up a question with an answer I didn’t care for.
Bonk, for short, was a field worker of the Expeditionary Legion—a player who’d change characters as the guild saw fit for whatever information they were pursuing. SpartanDonkey was also a field worker.
The other part of the Legion was their fighting force—players focused on making themselves stronger to protect the guild. Also, some quests and dungeons needed exceptionally strong parties to complete. The Legion fighting force was comprised of some of the strongest individuals in MCO, fueled by their guild's immense wealth and valuable secrets.
Back in Amberkeld, Bonk was a blue humanoid with a crooked witch-looking nose and tree branches for horns. A couple of days ago, when news of the Mardukryon world quest spread to the whole of MCO, Bonk was assigned to transfer to this mountain. I heard a couple more Legion guys were coming.
“Hey there, Bonk.” I nodded down at him. He was only level five, spending the majority of his short time exploring the Mirdabon part of the Golden Forest with a Contractor bodyguard.
Bonk tilted his head to Spokeless. “New guy?”
“Yep. I thought you’d take time to return, so I gave him some basic info and accompanied him through the Mirdabon minefields.”
“Heyo there, buddy!” Bonk offered a fist bump to Spokeless, which he awkwardly reciprocated. “I see you already got some armor on you.”
“The players by the newbie spawn point were generous,” Spokeless replied.
“Dang, you can’t do Mehubanarath’s quest with that.”
“I told him about it,” I said. “He chose to go to the village. Rope in groups of friends for that quest if you want to explore it.”
"Okay, okay, I hear you,” said Bonk. “But the easier thing is… for you to sell us what you know about old Mehu’s questline.”
“Not willing to sell that one as of the moment. I thought you guys were more interested in that other thing?”
“SpartanDonkey is scrambling his mind on how to convince you to reveal more.” Bonk laughed the guttural and raspy way of the Mardukryons. “He’s been harassing veteran Mardukryons about Paragon tank items they were willing to part with.”
Bonk was talking about the battle logs of my fight against specific Blighted test subjects of Bawu—monsters she had captured from areas currently locked to players—that I showed him and SpartanDonkey for free. Not wanting to owe me, SpartanDonkey insisted that he’d find the perfect compensation. That was how I intended it to go. I gave the file without asking for anything in return to trap SpartanDonkey in limbo and stop him from pestering me for some time.
Bonk patted the shoulder of Spokeless. “Buddy, I got pretty sweet deals if you become a Contractor of the Legion. The world quest brought much change to this mountain, so much stuff to explore.”
“Uh, I-I’ll think about it.” Spokeless glanced at me as if to ask if he should trust Bonk.
Works every time. Well, not really. However, this trick did work often enough.
Bonk and I were absolute strangers to Spokeless. But because I was first to show Spokeless kindness, he subconsciously assumed I was trustworthy and tangentially prejudged Bonk. It was like the imprinting of animal babies on their mothers in a weird way.
I learned this trick from politicians—who else? As elections approached, candidates would ramp up welfare activities. When my family struggled financially after my father passed away, we’d benefit from their handouts. Mum told us that she’d usually vote for whoever helped us first. I experimented with variations of that technique throughout my career, gathering loyal employees along the way.
“How about I show you more of the village,” I told Spokeless, “so you can better decide what Contracts to take? I do suggest working with the Legion.” This was good advice, and I also had to show Bonk I was on their side. “The pay is quite good.”
“Satisfaction guaranteed,” Bonk said, forming a ring with his index finger and thumb.
That’s what she said, Mason’s voice echoed in my head.
Bonk added Spokeless as a friend and galloped back to his stall before he missed more new players to hire. Spokeless and I continued through the camp, dodging busybody NPCs playing the part of refugees and groups of guards and Healers checking the tents to stamp out the Blight.
It wasn’t the same Blight that accidentally spread to the tunnels, turning monsters into mindless zombies, strengthening them and giving them different skills, but slowly killing them. Not the Blight that I cleaned up with the help of my party mates—Kezodilla, Megantress, and Nitana2003.
No, this Blight was the new and improved version that Mad Brewer Bawu cooked up with the ingredients I had gathered for her—Arcane Blight.
“Will the dozens of Mirdabons return after the world quest is over?” Spokeless wondered, looking over his shoulder as we crossed the stone bridge.
“Most probably. I hope they do. It looked hilarious when the landscape was covered in Mirdabons.”
I had wanted to make an MCO Goal—a capital ‘G’ Goal, indicating I should complete it no matter what—of killing every Mirdabon in this area solo. It was a difficult task as each time a Mirdabon died, its surviving fellows grew stronger and stronger. I’d like those murderous furballs to return; I had some tests in mind for them.
“Passing through! Passing through!” someone called behind us.
We got out of the way as an NPC led a large six-legged creature over the bridge. The beast was bulkier than an adult Mardukryon’s lower body, its features obscured by its thick blanket of fur. It pulled a cart piled high with golden crystals. Another NPC came up from behind the cart, making sure none of the shards fell.
I had never seen a Mardukryon NPC pull a cart. One would think that was the most logical thing for our race to do instead of domesticating beasts of burden. Perhaps it was considered demeaning, like centaurs in myths that were offended if someone rode them.
“They used to harvest crystals from the cliff wall,” I explained. “But the ores over there are contaminated by the Blight.”
I led Spokeless to the Chief’s Lodge to save his spawn point in the village.
The Chief’s Lodge was dome-shaped—similar to other Mardukryon buildings, as well as the tents in the evacuation camp—adorned by runic carvings and statues of beasts. It was the largest building in the village, occupying a wide block all by itself. It was also much taller than the standard squat houses, comprising several tiers.
It housed not only Chief Nogras but also a few essential NPCs, such as the one who could remove Ocadule Shards from slots and the one who resets Primary Attributes and Skill Points. When the world quest began, the NPCs inside handed out event sub-quests. This place turned from an infrequently visited site, where NPCs usually outnumbered players, to an absolute circus.
As the Chief’s Lodge became a center of activity, stalls relocated along its perimeter, making everything even busier.
Spokeless entered the building to meet the Chief while I stayed outside to mingle with the masses—undeniable duty of Herald Stone, the Man of the People.
“Herald, my bro!” A player I had talked to only once came up and offered a high five. I had a lot of self-proclaimed brothers these past few days; I should ask Mum about it.
“How’s it going, Panchello?” I said. He was much taller than me, so I had to reach a tad for the high five. “Enjoying your return to MCO so far?”
“Definitely! The Blight spiced up this whole place with the décor of green and purple. Gettin’ real tired of all the white and gold.”
“Just da man of da hour, ‘erald Stone!” Another player put his arms around my shoulders as if we had known each other for a long time instead of two days. Our horns knocked against each other. We laughed it off.
“And what hour is that, Berennor?” I made it a point to call players by their names as much as possible without being obnoxious.
“Da hour for some Blight hunting! Gonna pick me up some quests.” Berennor jostled into the Chief’s Lodge past the curtains covering the entrance.
“Hey, Herald.” Bernila popped up from the crowd. I occasionally saw her in the village. She stayed with Mardukryons through thick and thin. “Don’t progress the world quest just yet, okay? My friends are going to change to Mardukryon tomorrow.”
“Of course, Bernila,” I said. “I didn’t forget my promise not to do anything significant to the storyline for a few days.”
“Super thanks!” she piped. “If you ever need to coat your weapons for added damage, you can—oops, I forgot you’re a tank. Um, I don’t think I can make protective coatings for armor. But I’ll try.”
Many others also offered me freebies, part out of gratitude, part out of a sense of community, helping the low-level player. Maybe a couple or so did it to show off. I denied them all, saying I didn’t want anything in return.
The benefits I’d gain from freebies were momentary, but the image of the selfless Herald Stone would forever be etched in people’s minds. Non-monetary investments could pay off in unexpected ways. Come the day when I’d actually need help, many people would be there for me, the freebies I declined today compounding in interest for the future.
Spokeless emerged from the Chief’s Lodge armed with a [Heavy Spear] given to all younglings who had finished the dream ritual. I brought him to the Hunter-Warriors Lodge, the auction house, the Healer’s Lodge, and other places. Spokeless kept staring at the cliff walls, so I cut the tour short to visit the main dish.
Visit the main dish? Eat the main attraction?
To the south of the village, we passed Hunter-Warriors gearing for battle and houses left vacant. Many players milled about, forming parties.
Cliff walls towered behind the Kurghal Village proper like an intimidating titanic headboard. Jutting out of the rocks were massive deposits of golden crystals. So vital were these minerals—essentially batteries for the village—that Mardukryons built structures onto the wall, living right next to them.
A few dozen wooden egg-shaped pods of varying sizes pockmarked the rock face like barnacles, a complex network of bridges and platforms connecting them. The dubious Mardukryon engineering was, no doubt, held together by the power of the golden crystals.
That was three days ago. Much had changed since Bawu struck.
“What happened here…?” Spokeless peered through the green haze as we walked to the cliff wall. Though obscured, we could still make out ruined structures dangling from the cliff wall, places where rocks crumbled away, and glowing green crystals.
“The crystals were contaminated by some mysterious substance obviously connected to the Blight,” I said. “With the power source gone, many structures collapsed. Some Mardukryons died, including players. The latter can respawn, of course, but not the NPCs.
“Most of the NPC survivors were captured by Mad Brewer Bawu. She's the big bad villain of this storyline, experimenting on her captives, turning them into monsters. Hunter-Warriors, helped by players, are trying to rescue whomever they can. But it’s difficult because the tunnels below the cliff walls are contaminated, and many mutated monsters prowl… including former Mardukryons.”
“World quest time!” someone shouted as I finished my explanation.
Others picked up the call.
“World quest!”
“World quest!”
It was as if shouting ‘fire,’ but everyone was heading to the danger instead of away from it, both players and NPCs alike. I beckoned for Spokeless to join the tide. “Let’s see what came out of the tunnels!”
