CHAPTER 25: THE FIRST SPIRIT

Hailie didn’t seem to catch any of that, so she just stood beside me dumbfounded, unsure if she should think that it’s funny or concerning now that there were three statues surrounding them.

She blinked at me, hands trembling slightly as she tried to sign something incomprehensible, though, if you know me, you know I like to ignore people’s logical conversation and just resort to speedrunning the game, especially when a certain someone only have 2 hours of gameplay every day.

I looked away, waving my hand in the air to signal her to ignore the three players whom I shall refer to as roadside bandits.

"Let’s just move." I said.

I think she didn’t really hear that, Hailie just saw me taking a step forward, straightening my posture, so she naturally follow like a good girl.

Externally, I’m being the cool and composed, thougtful leader.

Internally, I’m jumping up and down the entire time.

I said this like, fucking, 3 times already, but I’ll say it again: A SILVER-SPOON FED CUTE AND DUMB GIRL IS LISTENING TO ME WITHOUT QUESTIONS.

Tis every man and woman’s wet dream to manipulate someone vulnerable, right?

Alright, I’ll stop, anyways...

Wroeg’s Hollow wasn’t a dungeon in the traditional sense, most players don’t have a reason to come here except for the Cleric quest, which is so easy that I could probably finish it with a blindfold.

There were no bosses, no drops that’s worth anyone’s time, or any treasure chests. It was the kind of filler place where they often code random escort or grave-digging quests, or to drop lores via spiritual words for those kinds of players that’s interested for some weird reason.

Gnarled trees lined the broken path, roots burrowed like buried fingers, long-forgotten gravestones overgrown by vines and bushes, trees’ branches dangled... And a gray sky that never rains.

Yes, indeed, I’ve noticed that, every possible plot of land in Darkmoon Adventure can rain, even volcanoes, only the Wroeg’s Hollow never did. And dataminers confirmed such on a forum thread once before, around 10 years ago, that area got 6 lines of code to ensure that it never rains for some reason.

Not the weirdest thing Sonders Interactive ever did.

I still remember... The cat incident.

Oh god.

To think that the cat is still out there.

I’m off-script again.

And through it all, Hailie kept walking with her little head low, fingers clenched tightly in prayer position... Wait what, why was that? Could she actually be catholic (or sumthin) in real life? Maybe she was really into roleplaying and was practicing for the Cleric role? I noticed that she occasionally mouthed half-remembered hymns which sounds eeriely like a choir...

Every ten paces, I glanced over my shoulder.

Soon, we were there, god, I miss this place, been forever since I’ve been here... I don’t ever do the cleric quests or those stupid misalleneous quests around this area so you can imagine why.

[You’re Entering: Mourner of the Pale Branch’s Well]

We were at a well, one of the only landmarks here aside from empty, boring, same old same old stuff that you’ve seen before.

We stood right at the well, and I peered my head down as I gestured Hailie to back up by swinging my backpalm away.

Then I saw it... A white light.

[Quest Updated: Thorns of Grace]

First Spirit: Found

Second Spirit: Not Found

Third Spirit: Not Found

The white light came from the water, flaring above the well, and then broke apart, shattering like glass.

When the light re-formed, it was in the shape of a woman, who hovered only a few inches off the ground, and a tree nearby bend down towards her.

Her body was entirely made of bark and fog, branches curved from her shoulder blades like withered wings, on her face was a mask of smooth wood, carved into a frown, with only two holes for eyes.

"Wuaaa..." I heard a strange sound, "urreeeahahahhhhhhhh! jamhaaragjg!!"

It was Hailie, who fell on her butt and started yelling, but considering that she was deaf, she didn’t know how to yell properly and just started making really, really, really absurd noises.

Never cease to amaze me how deafness affected speech so much.

The spirit then spoke, though, if I had to describe it in a way that make sense for humans that never experience Darkmoon Adventure VR... Her voice didn’t, uh, enter through the ears, rather it vibrated in the chest. The voice was cold, and I can feel it in my spine.

"Child of warm blood... What do you know about my grievance?"

Hailie paused for a second, her eyes darted as if she was reading something... Quest instructions I believed, and I was glad that I didn’t have to hold her hand through the entire thing... You know how hard it is to play with these noobs.

Hailie Sonder slowly and gracefully lowered her body, kneeling down onto the stone slab beside the well and began her prayer. Her voice was soft, whispers that were as cold as the voice I heard of that spirit. And the grass around her swayed ever so lightly... Could have just been the wind, I thought.

The spirit tilted her head, then floated to Halie’s side.

Then began the reconciliation.

I was left to guard her.

Which, was funny to think about, guarding a talking quest? What? Really? In the PC version, all you have to do was pick the right options, that was it.

This class was dog-water easy, and in the VR version, you just gotta answer the questions good, as least that’s what I heard from the early access players who tried.

But now that my Warlock class was in the way... It would be unpredictable.

[Enemy Spawn: Wroegbound Pilgrim (Lv. 12)]

I caught the first flicker at the edge of the trees.

One.

Two.

five.

"Fucking hell... Level 12? Which means they can do damage?"

They came crawling, limping, and marching. They were like stealth-video-games NPCs who heard a gunshot and came running to check the sound out,

Wroegbound were basically zombies, but one funny thing was the fact that they use the avatar of former quest-givers, dead players, NPCs who died her, and were given life by the Hollow’s magic.

They stumbled out from the tree line, armed with rusted icons and bent candles, dragging spiritual poison behind them.