Thank you, Basara! Was wondering why the vendors had bingo good stuff. The finest stuff now, though, lay beyond the durability of armor or the smiting power of imbued, enhanced, blessed or enchanted axes or swords. It's all these spontaneous quests I find myself going on with veteran players to help equip this aspiring Paladin.
Gortman tried to raise me on the radio but I was on such a quest - this one for a cape needed to complete a set, all the pieces of which were needed to make me a more mighty noob. Thanks for trying to ring me up, and sorry I was otherwise engaged at the time.
After that quest met with a dead end I met a guy in what appeared as a gal's outfit just outside the New Haven bank. S/he asked if I needed help. Happy at the moment with my working clothes and tools, I declined. S/he apologized before noting that my armor was....not so good. I was not wearing the Mongol outfit at that moment that another player had given me...it required a complete set of items to make it stronger than what I had but the fellow who gave it to me told me to keep it. There remains a chance, however thin, that I'll eventually be able to complete the set.
"I'll make you better armor than you're wearing," was the reply. Next thing I know I'm outside a stone building with metal doors sitting on an island of ice. S/he leads me to a workshop within. "That stuff you're wearing has to go," she asserted (I'm going to stick with she). I was told to strip. Uh....okay, I guess.
Much whacking and cutting sounds later I was standing in probably the most stylish warrior outfit I've yet beheld, all of it labeled, Exceptional.
"Got band-aids?" she asked. Didn't know if that was slang for rings and things. Nope, she meant bandages.
"Yeah, about 250."
"That won't do. Give me a moment."
Next thing I know she's presenting me with a box, also deemed Exceptional. "We have to improve your skills. Follow me," she said as I passed into one of those suddenly summoned glowing eggs.
Next moment I'm standing in a fenced in corral filled with sheep. "Strip....EVERYTHING," she says. Again I strip. She gives me a box containing 2000 bandages and countless buckler shields. I was told to equip myself with a buckler, target all the sheep, and drop out of war mode.
There I am, in just undies and a buckler, attacked on all sides by angry, noisy sheep, having to hit my heal button (I've got bandage application mapped to a function key) often.
"Are your points rising?" she asks. Slowly the parrying and healing points tick up by tenths. "Turn your Intelligence arrow to down," she adds noting that my intelligence was too high for a warrior. "Now, move around slightly occasionally," she commanded.
The points rose; my intelligence declined.
Old UO was full of scammers. My new armor was gone, my old armor lay on the ground of the sheep pen. I was under constant attack by sheep.
"Forgot something," she said. "Be right back." She returned with several bottles of virtual booze. "Drink it all!" she insisted.
Now I was nearly naked, under relentless attack by noisy sheep, and drunk. Bucklers would fail but I had MANY replacements. I figured she'd just vanish and spend many pleasant subsequent hours laughing. When she put me on a party channel, left, got on the party of two radio and asked if I had a place to put stuff other than the bank, I figured she was about to make her exit. Noobs don't have houses, not on ice islands, not anywhere.
At roughly 2AM she returned. I'd lost track of time amid the sheep mob. I thought of gortman and what he'd think of THIS.
After she called off the sheep, we returned to the land of ice and endless snow. My character was stumbling drunk, spouting *hic* in twos and threes. My character was nearly a moron but my parrying was awesome and my healing skills much, much better. Oddly I was stronger too.
She directed me a large box, no doubt Exceptional. By this time I'd managed to at least put on a shirt from my pack, all battle attire long gone. She asked me to open it. All my gear was inside. She gave me a key and told me how to use it.
"You can keep your stuff here. Don't lose the key. It's the only one. You also have a place to stay." She directed my attention to another box and told me the game name of its owner who also shares that icebound retreat.
After showing me the message board where I could leave notes for her, she handed me runes for the house and the sheep pen. I'd already told her I had rune books for other places.
After cautioning me to mount my horse before logging off she left.
Afterward I zapped myself back to Haven, dyed my cape and sash to a color that went better with the new armor, slew a dozen or two Ettins to try the armor out. Then I killed some brigands for their boots - a calf high set and some tall ones. She'd dumped my boots in favor of her Exceptional sandals. I wanted the option.
One Sacred Journey back to the Ice Age refuge and thus concluded the most puzzling yet interesting evening I have ever spent in an MMO.
Gortman....now perhaps you understand why I couldn't quite explain fully over the radio why I couldn't hook up with you this evening
Jonathan
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