Play of Shadows

01.2 Old Friends

They took a winding path back to the small village house that served as Ann's in-game base. Grant chattered the entire way, the heavy bucket swinging easily from his hand. They received a lot of attention from the villagers they passed. Ann felt there was some strangeness to the looks thrown their way – they were neither suspicious nor hostile, but contained a kind of friendly amusement.

Grant had been keeping busy. He gossiped on par with Ann's NPC mother, leaving Ann at a loss of how to respond or stifling laughter. Once she caught onto the fragments of useful information buried in his colorful stories, she sobered right up.

It seemed that they had arrived just as the game began. According to Grant, three players had died so far – all NPC villagers. The game had begun in Night phase, so the werewolves had already hunted twice and the villagers had voted once. Unfortunately for them, they had mistakenly chosen an innocent NPC villager to die.

"The Hunters have been in an awkward situation since," Grant said nonchalantly. "Although the poor man was voted out by a majority, they are the ones who pulled the trigger in the end."

Ann calculated the odds of the game as she listened. There were six wolves and about a hundred villagers. Based on the assembly that morning, children and the elderly were exempt from suspicion. That still left about forty or so adults. There was no knowing how many among them were actual players.

A problem quickly came to Ann's attention. She lowered her voice, mindful of the people around. "Wouldn't it be easy to check who is a player and who is an NPC during the Day phase?" she asked. It seemed like a pretty big cheat for the werewolf camp, who could mingle with the villagers and sniff out clues during daytime and then act once it was their turn to hunt.

Grant grinned. "Have you spoken to any of these people?" he asked, waving a hand at their surroundings.

Ann shook her head. Grant's smile widened.

"Try it. You'll be surprised," he said.

They reached the gate to the small courtyard in front of Ann's home. Ann's NPC mother was waiting for Ann at the door, all smiles. She urged Grant to stay for lunch again and again. The man refused on account of his father waiting on him at home, which had Ann's "mother" praising his care toward his elders.

"He is a good boy," she commented once the man was out of sight. "Of a good family, too."

Ann looked at the woman suspiciously. A foreboding chill went up her spine as she recalled the looks other villagers had been giving Grant and her all morning.

"Mother, here is the water. Were you not in a hurry?" she said.

The older woman laughed. "Such a big girl, still so shy," she teased. She retreated back into the house, carrying the bucket of water. Her steps were light, obviously in a good mood.

Ann had to laugh at herself. Was her being single so terrible a fate that even an NPC felt the need to meddle? Her real mother had only recently given up the battle and here came a VR version, ready to step up to the task.

As she was thinking, her mother bustled back out and thrust a basket in her hands. "I nearly forgot! Take these eggs over to Old Murray, no need for payment, his daughter sent over milk earlier."

Ann agreed, happy to have an excuse to go out. Her mother repeatedly urged her to hurry before letting her go.

Old Murray lived near the village center. A helpful granny pointed out the way for Ann, then went back to chatting with her friends as they sat knitting in a yard filled with blooming flowers. A group of small children played under their grandmothers' eyes. Ann paused unconsciously, caught by the peaceful scene.