Turnip
HP 100% | LV. 13 | XP 88% | Col 518
Location - Floor 2: Plains
Turnip breathed in the cold, dry air of Floor Two as he stepped out onto the plains. He noticed it seemed a little colder on this floor now than it had yesterday, which was strange because Turnip found late evenings in SAO to usually be a little cooler than mornings were. It seemed like there was a bit of light snow, too, of which there hadn't really been any sign the day before.
As much as the warrior criticised the game, he had to admit that the engine was largely superb. Despite the fact that SAO had slightly outlandish landscapes sometimes, there was still something about the atmosphere in general that was oddly real. Kayaba's was certainly a mind that would be interesting to delve into, and so Turnip felt fairly remorseful that he'd probably end up killing him before he'd talk with him. Such was the way of things.
He contemplated these thoughts as he grinded. For the armoured figure, buffalo were targets that were about as interesting as the life of the underside of a coaster. They were a tad dumb, even for mobs, and the experience gain wasn't as much as he might have hoped. He'd probably just finish off one or two more, then go further west. Away from the buffalo and, hopefully, away from the relative multitude of people as well.
It was generally in and after situations in which people annoyed him – situations like the one this morning – that Turnip's introvert side shone through. As much as his other side was juxtaposed to it, he was surely the mysterious, faceless armoured figure that everyone made him out to be when he felt like it. If something gave him reason to seek out company, then he would gladly roll with it. Likewise, though, if anything gave him reason to shun it, then he could easily pull off the 'tall, dark stranger' look, whether or not he was much taller than average.
He was very much nearing level fourteen now, but he'd reach it elsewhere. If he could find a good, comfortable dungeon, then he'd gladly level there until the sun went down. After a while of walking, Turnip noticed a couple of would-be landmarks appearing before him. Soon, he could make out a village to his right; that didn't really interest his grinding prospects. To the left, what looked like steam clouds rose into the sky.
Geysers, perhaps? Any kind of volcanic action wouldn't be unfeasible, considering the fairly rocky landscape – and if that was the case, then it fitted well with Turnip's grinding ambitions. There could be all kinds of more interesting enemies in a volcano: maybe fire elementals, giants, duergar, salamanders, golems… anything really, within imagination. Safe to say Turnip headed to his left, South.
As he neared the steam clouds, though, the helmeted man became less and less excited. He came to the realisation that there were no big, looming staircases into massive volcanoes. No rivers of lava, fire and brimstone to traverse. Hell, there weren't even any mobs.
"Just a load of bloody pools of water…" Turnip muttered, "There's actually sod-all here. One hundred per cent
sod-all. Nice one, Turnip, you sure can pick your destinations."
Strangely enough, it was only in making some noise himself that he heard some. To his right, a piercing scream was quickly silenced. Turnip, of course, took off at an immediate jog to the source of the sound. He questioned his morals slightly as a thought of "that's more like it" crossed his mind, but he dismissed it. Things that momentarily crossed his mind were generally best pushed aside, for the sake of sanity and resistance of strangeness.
The armoured figure could make out more sounds as he made his way over a few clusters of rocks. Finding himself on a smoother outcropping, he could understand what seemed to be a conversation between two people. And I don't mean 'conversation' in the friendly-chat-over-a-cuppa-tea sort of sense.
"Look, just give me all of your gear, and I won't have to hurt you."
"But I don't-"
"-But I waaannnt iiiit…"
"Uh, are you alright?"
"I'm fine. Stand and deliver already."
"Please, just- you don't have to do this. You can just leave, and I'll go back to my group-"
"Well that's all great, but alternatively you can give me everything you have, then go. Now just hurry it up before I cut your face off!"
Turnip dropped down a few feet from them, deliberately disregarding stealth. He could see the two now; a young girl of maybe fourteen or fifteen, being threatened by an older male with a wild sort of look in his eyes. He had an orange colour cursor, which was unsurprising, considering the situation. Turnip launched Boomeraxe from his side without a word. The guy's eyes snapped to him at the noise, and the girl began to turn.
She was grabbed around the neck by the criminal, who shouted out to Turnip.
"Don't come any closer, or she gets- AH!"
Turnip smirked under his helmet as Boomeraxe sliced across the man's back. The criminal shouted in pain as the armoured figure advanced on him, still silent. In what might faze many people, the criminal's eyes hardened as he brought his short sword to the whimpering girl's neck.
"Alright, you asked for it!"
And he raised his sword and stabbed.
The girl cried in simulated agony, but the criminal was surprised to see that Turnip, who caught and sheathed Boomeraxe, hadn't even slowed. The criminal was even more surprised, though, to receive the force of Draw Steel at close range – he was blown backwards, hitting the rock face with a cringe-worthy thud. Turnip, playing the silent, faceless warrior, yanked the short sword from the girl's neck and threw it at the criminal's face.
In an unrealistic – and somewhat comical – event, the sword lodged steadily in the man's forehead. He screamed shortly, and quickly removed the blade before it did too much damage. He managed a few panicked swipes at Turnip with his sword, which had been lodged in his skull a few seconds ago, but the strikes were easily struck aside. His panic increased further as he looked at his thoroughly depleted health bar, and confusion took him as he wondered why this random guy hadn't acted how he should have done. For each hit he managed to make, this armoured bastard had hit him back with ten.
As for Turnip; he couldn't be more pleased with how the situation panned out. By taking a hostage the guy had only inconvenienced himself. He'd wasted time dealing irrelevant damage to the girl, and left himself unable, for the most part, to co-ordinate any proper counterattack. That'd probably end up being a fatal mistake for him.
On the edge of his health bar, the criminal began to cry out.
"Please, don't kill me, please!"
In an instant, Turnip's attacks ceased with a sigh, his bastard sword pointed at the criminal's throat. He did want to kill the guy, as he clearly wasn't helping anyone in this game. The possibility of redemption would pull on his conscience a little, though, maybe, as much as he doubted this arse would reform. He'd give him the easy test, and quickly, so he got what the guy would really do, rather than just a calculated survival strategy.
"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you." Turnip said, wincing inwardly at the cliché.
"Oh, I- I'll never kill again! I mean- uh, no, I've never killed anyone before, uh, um, no, but I still won't and I- oh! I'll never steal again either! I'll be good! I'll go home and be a family man! Promise!"
Turnip breathed a fake sigh of relief, flipping his sword in his hand and turning his back on the criminal.
"Oh, thank God. Geez, my health was getting low, too, and-"
Almost immediately, Turnip felt the criminal's sword pierce his back. The criminal, though, silly git, hadn't bothered to check how low Turnip's health actually was – a healthy green, bordering on yellow. In swift reaction to being stabbed, the armoured figure drove his sword backwards into the criminal's stomach, prompting an almost instant shower of red, pixelly confetti.
"Rest in peace, idiot…" Turnip sighed, plucking the short sword from his back, which even he had to admit was a little gruesome. Thank goodness this game wasn't entirely realistic. The armoured figure smiled, though, at the notification box that appeared before him, congratulating him on reaching level fourteen.
"Y-you killed him…"
Turnip had almost forgotten about the girl that he had sort of saved, but he didn't so much as even glance back up when she spoke.
"Well observed." Turnip replied, closing various pop-up windows and admiring his newly-increased stats.
There was a long pause, after which the girl took a deep breath, apparently mustering up the courage to say something.
"… Did you have to risk my life like that?" She asked.
"You mean your comfort."
"What?"
"I risked your comfort, not your life. There's no way he'd one-hit you. You'd take five at least."
There was another pause.
"Did he have to die?"
"Don't make me kill you."
Even for Turnip, who was a registered expert at cocking up social interactions, that was a little harsh. Still, he reasoned, he was a little busy. Loot from players was certainly a lot better than loot from mobs – Turnip could see why the PKers did it, but that didn't mean he thought it was justified. Sensing no movement from the girl, though, he simply stashed the lot to look over it later.
"OK," the armoured figure asked the girl, "why were you down here without a weapon equipped?"
The girl rubbed her arm nervously, "I left it at the spring, with my group... They're probably worried. I heard some noises over in this direction, so I went to check it out. I came down that slope, but I can't get back up it. Then that man attacked me…"
"Noises? The criminal, or…?"
"Like snapping. Some things even a little like croaking, I don't know. Off down there somewhere."
"Hmm. Maybe I'll check it out. Noises usually mean mobs."
"So, um… thanks for saving me, but, uh, could you help me get back to the spring? I mean, if I had a weapon, I could hit that rock to fall down. Could you try it?"
Turnip sighed and stood, told the girl to stand clear, then Pulse Edged the jutting rock. The rock crumbled into a suitably diagonal slope that the girl could easily use to climb the ledge. After that, Turnip simply left without another word.
"Uh, thanks! I guess…" The girl called. But Turnip was gone.