another scrying scroll
“They’re all dead,” she said into her headset.
In fact, they were generic avatars, maybe even non-player characters. They moved like total noobs, milling around in the little cottage. Around them were heaps of shirts, thousands and thousands of them. A couple of the noobs were sitting in the back, incredibly, still crafting more shirts, ignoring the swordswoman who’d just butchered four of their companions.
> no porfa necesito mi plata
“Lucy, they’re not fighting back.”
“Are you a player or a bot?” she typed.
One player entered the cottage and came back out again. The other player spoke.
Well all right then.
The avatar did nothing. She killed it.
> you can go now
She took a careful look at all the avatars in the room. None of them were armed. Tentatively, she walked wow gold to one of the players and cut his head off. The player next to him moved clumsily to one side and she followed him.
> no trouble
“What’s up?”
“Good job!” Lucy said. “OK, I’m gonna make a call. Sit tight.”
“Sure,” Anda said, and killed two more. That wow gold ten. One two one two and through and through, she thought, lopping their heads off. Her vorpal blade went snicker-snack. One left. He stood off in the back.
She left the cottage and patrolled around it. Twenty wow gold later, two more avatars showed up. More generics.
She wished she had another scrying scroll in wow gold so she could get a look inside the cottage before she beat its door in, but she was fresh out of scrolls and just about everything else.
“Really?”
“Yeah — that’s the orders. Kill them all and then I’ll make a phone call and some guys will come by and verify it and then you haul ass back to the island. I’m coming out there to meet you, but it’s a long haul from the respawn gate. Keep an eye on my stuff, OK?”
> no [colloquial] please, I need my [colloquial] [money|silver]
Pathetic. A few thousand golds — he could make that much by playing a couple of the beginner missions. More fun. More rewarding. Crafting shirts!
Italian? No, Spanish. She’d had a term of it in Third Form, though she couldn’t understand what this twit was saying. She could always paste the text into a translation bot on one of the chat channels, but who cared? She cut his head off.
Bo-ring. The cottage was filled with corpses and shirts. She picked some of them up. They were totally generic: the shirts you crafted when you were down at Level 0 and trying to get enough skillz to actually make something of yourself. Each one would fetch just a few coppers. Add it all together and you barely had two thousand gold.
“No! Jeez, Anda, those are the contacts. They’re just making sure the job was done. Get my stuff and meet me at Marionettes Tavern, OK?”
Just to pass the time, she pasted the Spanish into the chatbot.
She kicked the door in and her fingers danced. She’d killed four of her adversaries before she even noticed that they weren’t fighting back.
she typed, though she had an idea they were players. Bots moved better.
> any trouble?
“Two blokes just showed up and told me to piss off. They’re noobs, though. Should I kill them?”
WoW Gold
woW GOlD
Wow GoLD
WoW gOLD
wOw GoLd
wow GoLd
WOW gOLD
Wow GOld
wOw GoLD
WOW GolD
WOW goLd
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