The NPC
The NPC
A Gene Eric Adventure
Paul W. Ryan
The NPC
A Gene Eric Adventure
Not all heroes are born. Some fall from the sky.
Life for Gene Eric did not begin as expected. The world is ruled by a jerk of a king known as a Player. To free the people of the Player’s abusive ways, Gene hatches a plan: to send him to an unfinished land set for a future DLC.
Only, things don’t end up as well as he hoped. And in doing so, Gene releases something far worse. And now, this generic hero must save a generic world from a generic evil before it is too late.
Works by Paul W. Ryan
Rage
The Watchers Series
Moonstruck
Watchers in the Dark (forthcoming)
The Beast in the Sky (forthcoming)
Monster Hunter Extraordinaire
Monster Hunter Extraordinaire
We’re All Going to Die
Monsters Are Jerks
The Rot Series
The Rot and Death
The Rot and Life
Short Stories
Filthy, Filthy Flesh-Eaters
The NPC: A Gene Eric Adventure
Do you want Paul to email you when he publishes a new book or when one goes on sale? Go to Paulwryanauthor.com and sign up. Those are the only times he’ll contact you. No spam. Pinkie promise.
The NPC
A Gene Eric Adventure
By Paul W. Ryan
Copyright © 2019 Paul W. Ryan
This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Amazon and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Cover art – image copyright as follows:
depositphotos.com/213805832/stock-photo-knight-fighting-dragon-dragon-man.html
Cover design and composition by Rebecacovers
He/she may be reached at fiverr.com/rebecacovers.com
First Edition 2019
ASIN: B07PMFX76S
Table of Contents
Works by Paul W. Ryan
Copyright Notices
1 – The Drop
2 – An NPC Has a Quest for You
3 – Why Would Anyone Level Anything Other Than Charm?
4 – The Developers' Room
5 – The Unfinished Dragon
6 - Meet Your Makers
7 - Final Fight
8 - A New Threat Looting in the Background
The Drop
For most, life begins with opening your eyes. A first breath. A new world. For Gene Eric, it began with him falling towards the ground at several hundred miles per hour.
Gene yelled and kicked out as the streaming air flapped at his clothes and face, but it was of little use. No one wins the battle against gravity. The lush empty green lands drew closer at an alarming speed.
Oh shit! Oh shit! I'm gonna die!
He clenched his eyelids shut. This was it. Only, something didn't feel right. He cracked open an eye. The village below him wasn't there before. It couldn't have been! Neither were all the people looking up at him and pointing. Gene yelled for help and then realised how foolish it sounded.
What are they going to do, dumbass? Hold out their arms and try to catch you?
At this speed, even if they had a giant net or bales of hay, it would do little to stop gravity.
Gene closed his eyes and then . . .
* * *
“Splat!” a little girl yelled. “Splat, squish, sploosh!”
Gene cracked open his eyes to see a little girl jumping up and down on a squashed pile of sweet-smelling berries.
“Amy! Quit that!” a voice called out from nearby. A woman, presumably the girl's mother, grabbed the girl's hand and dragged her protesting daughter away. The mother gave Gene a judging look before returning to scolding her daughter.
Gene rolled onto his back. The clear blue sky stared down at him.
It had to have been a dream, right?
Gene let out a chuckle to himself. Falling from the sky. Come on, Gene.
Loose pieces of the cobblestone road beneath dug into his back. He shook his unkempt hair, freeing the loose stones mashed into his face, hair, and clothes, and pulled himself to his feet. His head swam. He staggered forward like a drunkard. Then again, judging by the strange looks he was getting, maybe that's all this was.
The only problem was he had no recollection of drinking. Hell, he had no recollection of . . . anything. It was as if he was a blank slate.
Come to think of it, nothing in this town looked similar. And judging by how the people seemed to give him a wide birth, maybe they too knew he wasn't from around here.
He wandered down the streets, following the smells of freshly baked bread and spilled ale until he entered the main plaza. Vendors had set up their stalls and were calling out to passers-by. Gene's stomach rumbled. He searched his pockets, and, of course, nothing.
“Great,” Gene mumbled to himself. “Just freakin' great.”
The skies overhead rumbled as dark clouds rolled in faster than made any sense. Wait a minute, where the heck did they come from?
Rain pelted down, causing the once joyous scene to disband. Gene pulled his shirt higher to cover his head, but the rain was already soaking through his clothes.
“Hey, lad. Get in, come on! You'll catch your death in this here rain. Unless you prefer sitting out there in the muck.” A stranger waved Gene over. “Got plenty of livestock ‘round here for that,” the kind voice continued.
Gene took a deep breath and then followed the voice towards a nearby shop.
If Gene expected to see the face of whatever made him, what he saw was . . . Well, not one would expect of a creator. Wild soot-peppered wiry grey hair poked out at odd ends. Her nose, as pointed and sharp as the swords behind her, accented the elderly woman's dry, cracked lips, rosy cheeks, and beaming smile. Gene took the woman's offer and stepped inside the cramped, humble shop.
“Am I dead?” Gene asked. The elderly lady handed him a towel to dry off and smiled.
“Dead? If so, this would be the first time I've met a talkin' corpse.”
She offered Gene a dry shirt which he took without protest.
“I don't have much time to explain, just know that you're alive. Been a long time since I’ve seen a drop like that.” She let out a low whistle.
“A drop? You mean I just survived falling a few hundred feet from the sky?!”
She held up a wrinkled hand to interrupt. “I'll explain another time. Just follow my lead, and for Makers' sake, don't say anything. He's coming.”
Gene blinked. Maybe he was dead and his brain was just misfiring a warped, great hallucination to distract itself in its final moments before erupting from his shattered skull all over the earth.
Gene tried to speak but the words left in an unintelligible garble. The thunderous rumble of a warhorse approaching shook the shop. The old woman rubbed her hands clean on her dirt-stained apron and rushed behind her chipped wooden counter, urging Gene to stay put.
She lifted her hands and ushered the praise, “Greetings, Chosen One. Have you completed that task for me?”
The 'chosen one' known as AwesomeNewbSlayer69 ducked his head to fit his massive bulk under the door frame and sauntered into the store. Outside, his skeletal warhorse snorted as its fiery gaze followed its owner. Awesome placed his hands on his hips and held his head high. A luscious mane of . . . (bright green?) hair rolled down his far-too-wide shoulders. This 'chosen one’s’ bone armou
r rattled with measured step. Gene cocked his head, trying to make sense of just what the heck he was looking at.
“Duh. Obviously,” Awesome said and resumed his attempt at a heroic stance, flexing his ridiculously large biceps at every gawking passer-by. “Your amazing and highly-desirable king has returned to you your pile of crap family's missing shield.” Awesome dumped the burlap sack he had over one shoulder onto the ground. A flimsy wooden shield with a hastily painted golden crown popped out.
“Thank you, my king. I thought it were missing. Here. For your troubles.” She dropped a fistful of coins into Awesome's hand, without even giving the shield a second glance.
Gene blinked as what looked like a number flashed over Awesome's head before it dissipated into the air.
“Only 20 XP? Jeez, should have known this would be a waste,” he mumbled to himself.
“I have another quest, if you have the time?” the old lady offered.
“Pfft, don't care.” Awesome flung his elegant (purple?) cape over his shoulder and strode with his head held high down the cobblestone street towards the banging and thudding of a distant hammer striking an anvil from the nearby blacksmith. The sound stopped, followed by an annoying whine of, “Move. I need to work on my crafting skill, dillhole.”
Gene turned towards the old lady.
“What the hell was that?”
“That, was our king.”
“Your king? That guy?” Gene jerked his thumb in Awesome’s direction.
The old lady shook her head. “Not like we got a say in it.”
“You sure? That guy? With the purple cape, knight's helmet, jester boots, and was that a staff in the shape of a candy cane?”
“Look, lad. Just . . . don't say anything to him about it, you hear?”
“But—”
“But nothing, now, you hear? He said the clothes are something to do with stats. Just, pipe down, will you? We can't be caught talking.”
Gene mashed his palms into his eyes. “This . . . This doesn't make any sense.”
“Look . . . I'll try to help you the best I can. Just . . . Could you loan me a few coins? He's going to come back soon and I really need this coin for food.”
“Just tell him no. What's the big deal?”
“The big deal is that you can't just. Oh, crap. Just shut it, just—” The old lady held a hand over Gene's mouth.
“Welcome to my humble shop. Please, browse my wares.”
Awesome dropped a small mountain of iron daggers onto the countertop. Just when they thought he was done, another dagger would fall seemingly out of nowhere and clank against the overflowing countertop, spilling onto everyone's feet. Awesome remained silent, simply gazing forward as though frozen in time. The old lady did the same until, with a silent sigh, she reached into the front pocket of her stained apron and let the last few woeful gold coins jangle onto the countertop.
Gene had had enough. “Wait, stop. King Awesome, or whatever the hell your name is. This kind lady needs these coins for food.”
The old lady hissed for Gene to shut it from the corner of her mouth. Awesome nudged his (hot-pink? Seriously?) glasses back up the bridge of his wide and runny nose.
“You a new NPC? Damn, you're ugly. The developers must have just hit randomise and hoped for the best when they made you, huh.” Awesome scoffed.
Ugly? Developers? The hell?
Awesome waved a hand in front of Gene's face. “I use my maxed out People Person skill to ignore the NPC's pleas and assure him all will be well.”
“NPC?” Gene mouthed. “The hell you just call me?”
“Take you for your patronage,” the lady interrupted. “May your roads be full of adventure and your blades sharp.”
“Blah, blah, blah. Thanks for the coin, dweeb.”
The old lady nudged an item towards Awesome's pile of coins, but his hand missed.
The old lady gave Awesome the fakest, most forced smile Gene had ever seen. Awesome did not seem to notice as he swung his cape over his shoulder and held up his hand. “Later, losers.” He took one last long look at Gene and then shook his head. “So damn ugly.” With his chest puffed out like a damn jackass, he sauntered out of the shop.
“Blast it,” she grumbled, letting her smile fall back into a deep frown. “Was hoping he'd accidentally nick this worthless fruit basket.”
“Did you not hear that jerk? Who is he calling ugly?”
“Forget about it.”
“Forget about it? And what's so damn important about him stealing a fruit basket anyway?”
“'Cause then the guards could arrest him for theft.”
Gene pinched the bridge of his nose. “That makes no sense.”
“Least he didn't put the basket on my head this time and steal everything.”
The lady let her shoulders slump, defeated.
Gene took a step closer, almost stabbing himself many times on the flimsy blades littering the ground.
“You need to do something about him. This, whatever the hell it is, this is not normal,” Gene pleaded as he pushed some daggers aside with his foot.
“Oh, we've tried, lad. We've all tried, but he's too high level. Plus, we fail every skill check he makes us take.”
“Then just don't take the skill check!”
The shopkeeper's brows rose like Gene had just said her father was a snail and her mother salt.
“But then I can't do anything! Don't you know anything? It's like you fell from the sky yesterday.”
“I fell earlier!”
“Then my point stands even stronger!”
Gene massaged his aching temples and let out a deep sigh. The old lady's expression softened. She placed a hand better suited to wrestling bears into submission on Gene's shoulder, almost crushing him into the ground under the unexpected immense weight.
“Come on, lad. I know this has all been a lot for you. You can stay here for the night. At least until you get your memory back.”
An NPC Has a Quest for You
Gene awoke with a jolt to a pure black room. The sky . . . The fall. It had to mean something, right? It had all felt so real, looked so real. This, whatever and wherever he was, was some warped dream.
Nothing was making sense. At least the elderly shopkeeper had been nice and normal. Unlike that guy, King AwesomeNewbSlayer69? What the heck type of name was that?
Gene swung his legs over the side of the bed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He prodded his memory as deep as he could, yet all that came up from the roiling, murky waters was his name: Gene Eric.
He needed answers. And the old lady downstairs seemed like the best place to start.
* * *
Gene made his way down the creaky stairs to see the lady still awake, staring strangely into space.
Does this lady ever sleep?
“Excuse me, miss?”
“Welcome to my humble shop,” she recited. “Please browse my—oh, it’s you. Sorry about that.” She rose her tired face to meet Gene with a kind, grandmotherly smile.
“About earlier . . .”
She let out a sigh.
“Told you to keep your mouth shut.”
“That guy is a dick! Why did you let him walk all over you like that?”
“It's just the way things are, okay, lad?”
Gene couldn't believe his ears.
“So that's it? We live under his oppressive rule?”
“Not exactly. We found a system, see? We just send him away on fetch quests whenever it all gets too much.”
Gene narrowed his eyes. “A fetch what?”
“Wow, you must have hit your head really bad. Fetch quest, you know? Send him far away, collect something pointless, he comes back, give him some extra coins, send him away again.” She gestured towards the ‘family shield’, which upon closer inspection, looked like a child’s art project. “Rinse and repeat so we can actually get some things done around here.”
“That sounds horrible. Can't we do something more permanent abo
ut him?”
The old woman cocked her head to the side. She tutted and wagged a wrinkled finger in Gene's face.
“I'd be careful saying that out loud, lad. You'd be challenging the natural order of things.”
“The natural order of things can bite my ass.”
The woman let out a loud chortle.
“Look, I really shouldn't be telling you, but, I heard from a certain someone there's an area quite some ways from here. It's dangerous. And risky. But if we plan ahead, we could trap Awesome there for a while. Place could do with a good scrubbing anyway.”
Gene smacked his fist into his palm. “Then let's do it.”
“Whoa. Easy, lad, easy. I haven't even told you half the details yet. I’m not even sure it’s possible to get there.”
“Would you rather deal with Awesome forever?” Gene interrupted.
The vein in the centre of her forehead swelled at the mention of his name. Gene kept up the argument.
“Think about it. You could eat. Get this place spruced up. Arm wrestle some bears or trolls. Or, you know, actually sleep for once instead of standing here like a damn statue all night in case Awesome comes around looking to trade.”
She rubbed her bleary eyes.
“You're right. He's probably offline at long last. I'll put out the message to the other NPCs. If this goes south, this is on you, just so you know.”
“I know. Anything to get rid of that asshole once and for all.”
“All right, lad. I’ll get to work. I’ll let you know when it’s time.”
Gene smiled.
“I look forward to it.”