The Real Villains
With spare coin and equipment in hand, I decided to head a little ways out of town and practice my combat skills. My days of wood collecting has left me with a strong and healthy body but my skill with an axe was dull to say the least. Heading towards a rocky patch north-west of the village, I found myself to a hot spot for weasels and set about honing my abilities. I was no stranger to the slaughter of these little critters, and approaching the task with my axe was almost dream like. Gone were the times of chasing and running after these beasts sword in-hand; now it took just two gentle swipes of my weapon and I was the recipient of skill points and the ever-lucrative 'Ground Fur'.
After an hour or so of weasel slaughter I strolled back into Meduli like a returning champion. My axe glistened proudly upon my back and my inventory was packed with enough weasel entrails to make me a rich man. Feeling extravagant I purchased a number of skill books and stored away any surplus coin into storage. I had spent too much time lingering in the desert, it was time I moved on and in quest of adventure.
I made my preparations to leave Meduli and headed towards a small stable on the outskirts of towns. Just a little ways away from my location were a number of pigs and just a little further still was a small group of players slowly approaching the town. In Mortal Online it is very important to learn the reflex of targeting everyone and anything, so without thinking I did just that. What greeted me was the gut wrenching sight of red shields – the signal for murderer and overall “wrong 'un”. Backing away into the streets of town I caught sight of two young players running out towards the open fields.
“Stop!” I shouted with genuine alarm. The players did not heed my warning – like moths dancing towards an open flame I watched, horrified as the gang of criminals approached. Without a word or a sign, they attacked, some with arrows, some with blades – it was over in a matter of seconds, the victims didn't even try to retreat. I decided to run back towards to center of town to warn others, when I arrived it seemed that the place was already knowledgeable about such attacks – my shock was simply an overreaction.
I headed towards the edge of town to see if the outlaws had dispersed. They had not. Rather than culling innocents victims, the attentions of the thugs had been directed towards the boars at their feet. It was a massacre of pork proportions. All I could do was simply wait for these people to leave, my adventure was to be delayed for a while. My proud axe remained unused, I was a disgrace to the weasel-slaughtering champion I was moments earlier.
The Great Escape
It seemed like hours since the bandits arrived. I simply sat in the center of the village momentarily checking to see if the way was clear; unfortunately these vagabonds hung around like troublesome teenagers on horseback. Waiting until nightfall I decided to make my way towards the edge of town and hope that there was a way of slipping out unnoticed. While the unruly gang were occupied butchering a boar, I silently fled Meduli with speed and grace.
Making my way towards foliage and rocks I headed as far north as I could before it I had to cross a small section of open terrain. In the distance I could make out the torch light of various players and also in the a number of horse-bound criminals patrolling the area. Waiting for the right moment, I ran across the open desert and towards the awaiting tree line – hoping and praying my passing would go unnoticed.
Slightly out of breath and with my heart thumping I finally approached my destination of rocks and foliage. I couldn't believe my luck, I had outwitted a band of murderous ne'er-do'wells, I was the Survivor Guy alright. Scrambling up through the rocks and into grass land I stopped momentarily to gather myself and my direction. I intended on heading towards the village of Vaada, which would mean crossing an expanse of land and heading towards a giant black rock. The sun was beginning to rise but with the bandits behind, I could make my destination before noon.
After consulting my printed out map, I started heading a direction with optimism in my heart. After running a couple of steps I heard a faint nose coming through my speakers – coming to halt I realized that this wasn't the sound of my own footsteps but someone else, someone who had followed me.
Wheeling my mouse around I turned to face a small gray-skinned man brandishing a sword. Instinctively I drew my weapon and raced towards my combatant swinging wildly. My days of weasel genocide were well spent it would seem – as I approached my enemy I swung once, twice, and thrice: their health fell with each slice, while my own stayed at a healthy proportion. I was winning the fight against this would-be-killer. I continued my onslaught of blows when suddenly the gray-skinned bastard turned on his heels and fled. Weighing up my options quickly I decided to follow a similar course of action and ran in the opposite direction.
The End of the Road
I started running and did not look back, my heart was thumping and my in-game stamina slowly depleting. Recognizing my need for a rest I headed towards the direction of a small settlement of houses and promptly hid. Clicking through various menus I found myself to the 'Rest' ability and recovered my aching body. The road to Vaada which once seemed so simple was now a dangerous and foul task. The sensible portion of my mind concluded to simply log-off the game and return when I wasn't possibly being pursued by a gang of criminals – the survivor in me however wished to carry on, to brave it out.
Fully rested and ready for the road again, I emerged from my hiding place and surveyed the land. With dread and fear I saw a small group of approaching horsemen – one of them unmistakably the gray-skinned bastard. There was nowhere to hide, and nowhere to run to. The only options I had was to either admit to defeat or stand and fight. I made my decision. No longer would I bet a victim, no longer would I be a fool wandering the wilds, I was the Survivor Guy. Climbing a nearby rock, I stood proud, drew my axe and yelled “come and get me!”. My courage knew no bounds, I was like a scruffy looking Spartan.
Survival in Mortal Online is tough and brutal. My time of endurance was fraught with danger but also excitement. Those that last the hardships of the game are surely warriors of note, but to paraphrase Rocky Balboa, Mortal Online is about how much you can take and keep moving forward. Thank you for taking the time to read my adventures in the world of Nave and I wish you good luck in any survival you may embark upon.