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Fantasy NPCs

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Seraph Darkfire

King of the Underworld
On the eastern side of the empire rests a small village of about a hundred people. It mainly goes unnoticed by many people and is only known by the farmlands to its north or the fish that flow down river from distant mountains. Occasionally adventurers would stop and stay for a night on some greater quest, but that has slowly trickled down to very few and then none.

Still, life goes on, spring to winter, over and over again with barely any other changes. Until one day...

You stumble on your path, heading towards whatever task you had planned for the day. It was strange as you'd never stumbled before. Looking around you don't spot anything on the village dirt road that would have caused you to trip.

While the village wasn't wealthy or as neatly organized as bigger cities, the roads and houses were well maintained to hold up to the weather, the road was even pressed down to reduce mud during the rainy season.

You are walking again, heading to your task. When did you start walking? Hadn't you been checking the road?

You turn and look around. Villagers are moving about as normal, heading to their own tasks or whatever...what were their names? You'd lived with these people all your life...

How long was that?

A soft ringing passes between your ears and slowly increases in volume. Growing from annoying to painful very quickly.

This village...what was its name?

You stumble again and fall to the ground. The ringing is ever louder.

What was your name?

A sound like the shaking of many leaves in the wind followed by a mind bending screech as all around you everything seems to jump forward and then back randomly. People flicker in and out of view, moving as normal but rapidly.

Then something snaps deep within you and suddenly everything is right again. The wind is softly blowing and villagers are off and about in their normal routine...

But now there are others just like you on the ground. Villagers you knew but didn't know. From another... 'Instance' the unfamiliar world tumbles around in your mind for a second. For a moment they look normal, generic, and in between blinks, they become different and you realize that their appearances are all unique to who they are.
 
"What happened?"

"Data overload sir. Caused a loop then a force reset. We've added more servers so this shouldn't happen again"

"It better not. This game comes out in a few months and we've got the beta test in less than a month. Any issues with the AI?"

"Nothing at the moment. All flags are green and any minor issues are being corrected by its self learning"

"Good, how about the event system?"

"Prepping the early events first. We'll run them, reset, and run them a few more times to avoid any conflicts."

"What is the first you are setting up?"

"Goblin Army. Initial stages anyway. This'll trigger the requests to slay goblins at the adventurer guilds which in turn would trigger the reveal of the Goblin King in a later connected event."

"It's always goblins first. Alright. Let me know if there are any issues"

"Will do"
 
Ferdinand
Location: Rostan's Crop Field
The rich green cabbage dropped against the flat textured yet detailed soil of loam. His ears rang violently and the time in his body felt out of his control. He gazed into his sunkissed hands, dirt painted in his nails, fingers, and palm, still remaining from the day's work. Looking down back to the cabbage, did he ever drop anything by accident? Did he ever check anything that he was doing? The farmer gently scoops the cabbage, undamaged whatsoever. Rotating the vegetable in his hands with a look of curiosity.

Swiftly, he throws his head over his shoulder. Eyes only met with long farmland, nothing but soil, and a small house just ahead in the distance. Next to him was a wheelbarrow but with a mountain pile of vegetables stacked over one another, towering over even the tallest human in the village. Throwing the last harvested cabbage into the wheelbarrow. Their soil-soaked boots of his made their way through the empty land, gazing upon the nature around him. From the grass to the blue sky. Even the in the corner of the patch of bushes an opened treasure chest that he could have sworn was opened more than once. He bypassed the scarecrow, wearing the same clothing as he does. A scarecrow he never took notice of, slowly backed away from the scarecrow until he made a full sprint towards the house. He trips over to the ground. He never sprinted like that before. He was not following his everyday path. He felt like he could go anywhere.

He picked himself back up slowly. As he marches closer to the house. He saw in the corner of his eye, a cobblestone well. The same well he walks up to every day to fetch water for the crops and plants. Its relatively small bucket attached had forced him to take several trips back to the well under its roof. There he gazed into the well. The water was clean and never once increased or decreased in water level. He saw his own reflection. His face was blank face and emotionless.

He could only touch his own face, a face he has never really seen with clarity. He was a hardworking farmer, at least if he can remember that clearly. The house was just a few steps closer. He noticed the 3 Sunflowers aligned symmetrically across one another against the long birch fence connecting to the house. A barrier to force those to come unto the blue-roofed house. He simply gazed at the road horizontally aligned against the house. Just walking down ahead is the road down the main village, where most NPCs reside.
 
"There, you're all better now! Go with the blessing of the Goddess and be sure to come back if you need healing! (Hopefully I'll be out of here before then...)"

The same line of dialogue came out of Charite's mouth as she finished bandaging the minor injuries of one of the town guards.

No sooner had she returned to her sitting posture when a strange feeling washed over her.

She blinked.

She turned her head a bit. Her gaze took in the sights of the small shrine that served as her workplace. The icon of the Goddess sat on a pedestal. No great statue it was, but a piece of sculpted limestone no taller than her forearm.

The building itself was no great cathedral either, being basically a brick shed with small windows, with just enough room for five people or so to kneel and offer prayer at a time.

All things considered, she really should remain waiting where she was for more patients or supplicants, but...

Standing up, she gingerly stepped over to the icon. Careful not to lift it up or jostle it, Charite slowly ran her hand over it. A strange emanation seemed to issue from it...as if someone or something was trying to speak through it. Was it the Goddess? Was it the reason behind this strange feeling?

Charite shook her head. Pulling her veil back, she let her horns free, leaving them in plain view.

She turned, stepping out of the shrine and locking the door behind her.

She had to investigate. That's what it felt like the strange emanation wanted her to do.

With steady steps, she hurried into the village.
 
Town Guard Bob
Location
: Town Noticeboard

"Nothing worth reporting" said Town Guard Bob, his single line of dialogue all there was to him. Looking around a few times before returning his gaze to what lay in front of him. Nothing particularly interesting was happening in this quiet little town, as per the usual. Resting the palm of his hand atop the pommel of his sheathed shortsword. Town Guard Bob awaited the moment his services as a protector would be needed. Not that such a thing would happen anytime soon with how peaceful things always were. Another aspiring adventurer appeared before him to exchange pleasantries. Once again Bob assured them that there was nothing worth reporting.

Suddenly he felt a twitching in both of his eyes. A feeling he couldn't describe washed over him. Clutching his chest, he felt a bit funny. Perhaps he would need to go see a healer once his shift ended. When was that again? Maybe he'd need to go see the Captain about a short break to find a healer. Where was the Captain of the Town Guard at this time of day? No better yet, who was the Captain? Was there ever a Captain? There must have been considering this was a Town Guard. Bob thought to ask one of his coworkers about this. What were their names? Who were they? Why didn't he at least know the names of the people he stood guard beside day in and out? What day was it even? When was the last time he went home? Did Bob even have a home? A family? Who was Bob really? He was a Town Guard, of course. Town Guard Bob was a Town Guard for... this town. What was the name of the town.

"I... I have something worth reporting"
 
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Wood-Smith George
Location, Town Outskirts. Nearby Forest.​

George Was a simple man, skilled in his craft. Or at least he thought he was, right now he was busy collecting wood... or, was he bringing it home... Or making a tool. Wait, where did he get the metal from?

Wasn't he receiving that from... who was that again? His wife? No... He doesn't remember getting married. he saw them by his side constantly. watching him... Assisting him. From what he remembered, He was doing multiple tasks all at once as if there were multiple of him doing it, but now there wasn't. right now he was on the ground, wood spread about. He needed those to make handles... He thought...
He scratches his head. the person was there, he tried to talk to her, "What a long day Of prosperity, collecting lumber for my tools." What..? why did he say that? He coughed and tried again. "My feet hurt, but that's a good Half-days work for ya!" Um... That was odd. he remembered saying that before. both phrases.

She did not stop walking, he walked up to her and tried talking again. this time he didn't say anything, but she stops and says: "Not right now, I'm busy helping my master". she glitched in place, and forward, to were she was walking as if she was and wasn't stopping, but still standing in place. Flashing in and out. once he stopped talking to her she stopped flashing in and out of existence, and both disappeared.
That was very strange... he was honestly quite frightened he tried to let out a scream only to say, "My tools are the best in the area! At least to some...", He had no idea what was happening, all he could do was pick up the wood, and hope it was going to be ok... but where was the wood? it wasn't on the ground anymore... It was floating, next to where the woman would be. he figured his best bet would be to follow it.
 
Sybil

The smoke within the town's 1 and only blacksmith was almost blinding, yet it's 2 inhabitants worked dilligently to craft weapons and armour for the adventuers that made their way through (And hadn't earned anything better from quests). The metal sang as hammer clashed against iron, the diligent hands of the apprentice weaving metal in the back, the master leaning on the counter of the front, eager to complete his sale. This was how it always was, how it always would be.

And then all of a sudden it wasn't. The apprentice looked at her tools with a clarity that she never had before. How long had she been here? Had she been anywhere else, ever? She turned to her master: "Marcus, did you feel..."

"Come on Sybil, you're taking all day about it,"

Sybil retreated back to the forge, and returned to hammering. "Sorry, it's...nothing,"

"Come on Sybil, you're taking all day about it,"

At this Sybil paused, then turned to him again. The same inflection, the same tone, even right down to the motion in his arm as he nudged her to return to her place, where she belonged. "Marcus?" She asked, walking towards him and looking with a sense of caution. The man was older than her by a good decade or 2, and his hair was burnt and singed in places from the heat of the room.

"Come on Sybil-"

"Can you say anything else?"

"Come on-"

"-anything at all?"

"Hello traveller! Feel free to look around, my pieces are good and the prices are fair!"

Sybil stepped back in shock at the change in manner, and realised she was on the other side of the counter, it's carved stone and wood top weathered as it always had been. When was the last time they had someone come in anyway?

"Marcus, it's me. Your apprentice?"

"My apprentice? She's in the back, seemed to be concerned about something though. If you can talk to her and find out what's wrong I'd be truly grateful,"

How had he known that? Sybil had broke a set of tongs a few...she frowned, her memories unclear. She had never broken the tongs, they'd always been that way. That was how they'd been for as long as she could remember. She hadn't broken them, they'd been made that way. And why didn't he recognise her?

"Marcus, it's me, it's Sybil! I was thinking about your tongs but I don't even remember..."

"Ah that makes sense. Poor girl. I'll speak to her and get to the bottom of things. Take this for your trouble,"

Marcus stretched his hand over the counter, passing the girl a sack of gold from she knew not where, and a warhammer with her signature engraved on it. The piece had all the makings of an apprentice, the metal was warped in colouration around the head, and the grip on the shaft was slightly too short. When had she made that? She had no memory of it. Did she ever make it, or like everything else, was it always just there. Everything had always been just there. Until she moved to this side of the counter, where she had never been.

Somewhat unsettled by her master, Sybil stepped out of the shop with the hammer in hand, looking desperatley around the village for any understanding or sign of what was going on.
 
Her amulet didn't look the same as before. Far too...notable. Her amulet rested in her hand, red echoing dully against her surrondings. It was too...sharp. Too many curves, as if she had put on a pair of glasses and suddenly learned to see. And where- where was she? In a den...of sorts? And surrounded by small green things? Oh my, she'll get her dress dirty!
"Hello? Hello......?" No one ignored Alice. No one. "Excuse me?"
The green little thing paid no attention to her. Scowling, she put down her necklace, slipped it into one of her frock's pockets and tried to stand up. She couldn't. The bars of whatever rickety cage she had been placed it prevented her from moving. "HELLO!? How rude...."
Still no response. Alice scowled and crossed her arms. She had been picking mushrooms, taking a little walk...and the next thing she knew, here she was, in this dingy den. How utterly disgusting.
 
It isn't long into the beginning of the day that the town church bells begin to ring, a primitive but effective warning system. A short ring, a long ring, and a second short ring signaling that there is danger near the town. Ferdinand would notice it first as his farm was outside the village. In the distance wasn't many green figures, around four or five, Goblin Scouts. They weren't moving towards the village, more moving parallel to it as they watched the various people respond almost immediately to the bells as they scurried into the nearby buildings and their homes.

Goblins were like rats. Where there were few, there was almost certainly many, many more.

George would be able to hear the sounds of the bell, at the same time the wood that had been floating simply fell to the ground as he neared the village as the girl flickered into view before suddenly being rapidly sucked away before vanishing completely.

Sybil would, only for the barest of seconds, see a girl that looked vaguely similar to her before that image was gone before she could blink.

Bob would feel the sudden desire to draw his weapon and charge towards the village entrance to ready for battle alongside the other town guards...that all looked vaguely familiar to him.

Charite could hear the bells as well as anyone, but there was something underneath them. A whispering. For a moment strings of light appeared around her for a moment before vanishing.

--

Meanwhile, Alice, deep in the den could very faintly hear the bells. So could the goblins as they all hopped up from their milling about and began to move around with more purpose, as if something had flipped inside of them. One of them even bumped her cage as they passed by it, causing it to rock back and forth as the flimsy wood and twine it was made of wasn't the most structurally sound. In fact, it might be very easy to just push it apart.
 
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Wood-Smith George
Location, Town Outskirts.​

George heard the bell and watched the wood scatter on the ground as if it had been thrown in a panic. He wondered what the heck happened to the lady. Something instinctively told him there was trouble. thats when he saw one, a goblin. He knew they were small and weak, but they could still kill him quite easily in numbers. And there were always numbers. He knew he was wearing a toolbelt, so he looked down briefly and saw a woodcutters axe. He grabbed it just in case and started running towards the town, “Just the right tool for the craft!”, not what he meant to say, but it was fitting.

he was attempting to scream for help, but he just kept saying random phrases again. This was getting frustrating. he tried to speak again and again. When he got to the gates where the guard’s were at, he finally managed to scream out one custom word stacked on top of a pre programmed phrase, “my tool is almost goblin ready!

my tool is goblin ready? Ok then, I guess its goblin ready. my voice is more confident than I am. I guess its time to fight some goblins with the gaurd…
 
"Hyee..." Charite blinked, pressing herself against the village's rudimentary defensive barricades and peering through the viewports. Despite the constant labor of the village's blacksmiths, there was nary a pike that could be thrust through the barricade to keep the impending assault at bay.

Today was getting stranger and stranger. She couldn't remember the last time she left the small chapel, and on the one day she did...it looked like she was about to get up close and personal with the creatures that she had heard so much about, but never seen. The "goblins" that were individually small and weak, but caused no end of problems for the guards and travelers in the form of injuries she would have to treat.

Several guards rushed by in a mechanical formation, seemingly taking positions for battle. Impulsively, she tugged at one of them. "H-hey, you have this handled, right? Am I going to have to treat you again?"

She expected some kind of reassurance or dismissal, but...there was no answer.

One way or another, she would have a part to play in the battle.
 

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