Chapter 27: Roleplay

They stopped once an hour to check their bearings and rest, but otherwise kept riding through the afternoon and long into the evening. When they hit the river, they followed it upstream until they found the river ford Scout had mentioned, then set off on a Northeastern heading into another virgin forest.

Their journey stalled twice. The first hindrance was a shallow canyon Scout hadn't mentioned. They had to divert half a mile to the south before they found a jut of land they could cross. The second was a landmark Hugh couldn't ignore. The tiny, gutted farmhouse sat in the center of several acres of barren, tilled land. They spent nearly an hour exploring it, giving Hugh a chance to pick up several new scans, until Dex pointed out they'd never reach town by nightfall unless they got back on the road. Traveling after dark wasn't recommended, even in such a passive landscape, since they weren't following roads.

The lake Scout had mentioned was clearly visible after they passed through a thin strip of forest and entered another section of grassy plains. Its waters shined in the fading sun and rippled invitingly under a gentle breeze. Their destination was clearly visible as well, perched a few miles away on the shoreline. Even from the distance, Hugh could tell the town was nothing special—a fishing village of some kind with only single story buildings and thatched roofs.

Hugh found the roofs particularly amusing, since he had no idea where the NPCs supposedly found the thatch for building. It would have made a lot more sense if the Nomads, who were supposedly Nomadic, lived out of covered wagons. He wasn't the game designer, though.

As they followed the shore around to the village, the single pillar of stone rising up from the center of town stood out. The obelisk looked ancient Egyptian in origin, which didn't fit in with the rest of the quasi-European medieval vibe.

"The Genesis Spear isn't an actual spear," Hugh huffed as he stared at the distant landmark. He slowed his pace, wanting to catch his breath before he encountered any NPCs. "It's a building. Some kind of control tower left behind by a dead civilization? Please tell me it's not an alien artifact or a war machine. I'll be so damn disappointed."

"No aliens or war machines," Dex replied with a chuckle. "I don't see the harm in telling you since we're going straight to Nexus. The Nomads' ancestors built it. Once upon a time, they used it to Terraform this world for colonization. As you surmised, someone messed with it and altered the settings, upsetting the balance of nature. I can't tell you whether we'll ever meet that person, but that's how the story goes."

"It's the mayor or whatever they call their leader," Hugh said decisively.

"Where?" Dex asked, craning his neck in search of the man. Hugh shook his head.

"I don't mean I see the mayor. I mean the culprit is probably the mayor—or whomever goes out and brings back the rarest supplies. It's the only way to explain how they got the thatch for the roofs. Someone figured out how to use the Spear just enough to produce what they really need. It'd make the most sense if it's the mayor, since he could claim the gods showed him where to find it. That would raise his status among the other NPCs to the point they'd follow him without question."

"More assumptions, but I can't fault your reasoning. I have to ask. Do you do this often—play through the story in your head?"

Hugh shrugged. "It's a hazard of running through quests religiously. Over time, it's hard not to see similarities when they appear, especially when all the clues are there. This setup is a lot like the Secret of the Mayor's Miracles questline in Gideon's Graveyards, only he didn't have a Genesis Spear. He was resurrecting zombies and using them as slave labor at night to complete his miracles."

"I don't have information on Gideon's Graveyards, so I can't comment on any similarities," Dex replied. "I will advise caution in dealing with the NPCs. Even if you're right, your assumptions could backfire if you push against their leader and he pushes back."

"There's no time to play nice, but don't worry. My plan should still work. All I have to do is pretend to be Yuri from Marco Bratva 2."

"Who?"

There wasn't time to explain. As soon as they reached the outskirts of town, NPCs flooded out of ramshackle buildings to meet them on the hard packed earth serving as a road. The flood ended at a mere two dozen people, nearly a third of which appeared to be kids between the ages of eight and sixteen. Another third of the population ranged from thirty to forty. The last third looked to be a generation of hundred year old ancients.

Hugh didn't ask what happened to the intervening generations. Either they were out scouring the landscape, hiding in the buildings, or they'd died off for some reason. It was also possible the game's developers forgot to add transitional age groups for the initial populace settings. Such things happened.

He slowed his bike to a stop alongside Dex and let his gaze wander over the crowd, taking in their dirty complexions and the poorly crafted rags serving as their clothes. Collectively, he thought they were human, but even the tallest man only reached five feet in height. Hugh and Dex had to be giants in their eyes.

Taking a deep breath, Hugh did his best to channel Yuri's formidable manner and tone.

"You know who I am," Hugh said, speaking to no one individual in particular. "I was told Nomads were honest, honorable people, but it seems I was mislead. You have kidnapped me unfairly from my home and now you wish to hold me hostage until I clean up a mess one of your people brought upon this world. Save your excuses, your apologies, and your pleas. Give me one honest reason I should help you."

One wizened old man stepped out from the rest, his hands clasped together in trembling prayer. "The actions of the Summoners were reckless, but—"

"Save your apologies," Hugh barked, filing the title of 'Summoner' away for later. "A reason. Give me one, now!"

Several of the NPCs traded worried glances, unsure of how to respond to his demand. Hugh's roleplaying threw many of them off their scripts, which was exactly what Hugh wanted. Not only was he testing the limits of the AI, but he hoped to trigger a specific response.

"We have none," a woman said, boldly stepping forward out of the crowd. "Great Sire, you are right to say we are no longer the honest, honorable people our ancestors once were. This world has grown too cold and barren. We have become nothing more than beasts focused on surviving each day. Even so, we ask for your aid. As a godling, you have the knowledge and power to raise us from the wretches we've become. If you won't help us for our sake, then we beg you do it for the sake of those who will come later—those who will be worthy."

"An honest answer from a Nomad," Hugh said in approval. It wasn't exactly the response he wanted, but he could work with it. "There is hope for you. The question now is whether you can prove yourselves to still have some shred of honor. You will take me to the Gateway so I may travel to the city of the gods. Do so freely and without hesitation and I will know you truly meant no harm in summoning me here."

The old man opened his mouth like he intended to argue, but the woman spoke over him before he could get a word out. "As you command, Great Sire. There are none here who will question the Will of a godling. Even should you leave us to die from the Life Drought, we will find solace in having encountered your divine presence in our final days. Knowing you were here and found us unworthy is better than facing death wondering if our prayers went unheard."

Most of the crowd murmured in agreement, their expressions mirroring her mournful resolve, and they moved with the spokeswoman when she turned and headed deeper into the town. The old man and a handful of NPCs on the outskirts were slower to respond, their expressions tight with dismay and anger. Hugh made mental notes for as many as he could, knowing they would somehow play a part in the long-term Nomad story line.