Why did I just run out of there? What happened? Why did I get so freaked?
Did I get caught up in Aphid's paranoia? Dr. Mary was right, the game does get under your skin. I felt just like when Bob had walked in on me showering or-
She paused, lost in the thoughts that had sprung unbidden from that idea. Hugging the fence tight for a moment she brought up the Quests menu, looking over those she had accepted from Aphid. Oh no. I've only got four and a half hours to clear out the cellar. She thought back to the many other games she had played. Looks like this is the rat-smashing quest. Whilst I'm here though ... She had just read over FORK TO FARM. Going to her inventory she saw some new items, almost filling the grid displayed there. No wonder it took so much more effort to run here. This stuff weighs a ton. But how am I able to carry it? Does it limit me based on what I can carry? What even is the point of this screen if it makes me feel the weight? The model of her on screen was carrying the bundle of tools under one arm and visibly slouching. She could make out at least three pitchforks, two hoes, a pickaxe and two shovels. held clumsily in her arms. Okay. Well, it makes it easier to carry and move not having them in my actual hands. Virtual hands? Whatever. Maybe the point is the choice? I could have had these strapped to me. I guess it's the preference between wanting it accessible in a bag or from a menu? She had begun walking further away from the village towards a gate set in the fence a few feet further down the road. She unhooked the gate, eyeing the livestock dubiously. Heading towards the farmhouse in the distance she checked the Character menu, curious about the inventory she had seen there. Her new sword was visible and there was also a run of icons showing the tools she was carrying, each of which bore the word [EQUIPPED] emblazoned across the front, each showing the option to switch to EQUIPPED when she focused on them. The icons for the letter and the box she had seen in her main inventory had disappeared, and the stones weren't visible either. Okay. Progress. This shows me what I have on me without it impacting me too much in-world. And anything else I have actually out counts as equipped. But what's the benefit? Why not keep everything safe and secure? Once I dump these I'll equip that sword. Check in with Miller, chase up any chances to get some rare items, then head back to the blacksmith and cellar. End up at the barracks. Hopefully have enough money to buy that bag without having to sell anything.
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The farm door rose up in front of her disrupting her thoughts. She rapped it with her foot a couple of times absentmindedly as she decided to toggle the options, her body shaking in a sequence of shocks as a large pickaxe formed in her hand, and a deep voice suddenly sounded out behind her.
"Now I can see you've your mind full, but it isn't polite to kick other people's things, and I'm not sure you want me to know what you were planning to do with that pickaxe." Kennedy jerked around, raising the pickaxe up in surprise. A man was visible through the doorway of a nearby shed, next to a bucket on a stool. A dozen chickens clustered around, squawking and flapping as they tried to get to the dried food inside, each being gently blocked by the man, scoop in hand, as he filled up the feeders. Seeing her looking, he nodded towards the chickens, his voice again heavy and slow, oddly sonorous. "It's a very rare chicken that will give up the riches of the bucket for the food they can actually get." He tapped the scoop against the funnel built into the top of the feed tower he had been filling, the trays at the bottom already piled high. "They're much like all of us in that regard." He picked up the bucket, holding it high as he backed away from Kennedy and the door towards the next group of feeders. A small head poked out from on top of a stack of hay at the back of the shed looking down at the man and the bucket as they approached closer. "Would those be the tools ordered from Astrid's? Or do you just make a hobby of carrying dangerous items as you go around kicking down peoples' doors?" The man's face showed no emotion, and his voice had remained calm and rhythmic. Is he mad? Is he joking? The chicken on the hay had waddled closer. It was now less than a metre behind the reversing man, near the final grouping of towers, and seemed to be readying itself. What is that chicken doing? Kennedy bit her lip and smiled. "I'm glad you can smile, so many folks seem to struggle to, but can you talk?"
Kennedy blinked slowly. "Oh. Sorry. I was lost in thought." She decided to try name-dropping again. "Lord Anguine has chosen me for a task. I was trying to figure out the best way to solve it."
The man sighed. Pushed the scoop deep into the bucket so it stood freely and turned to face her. "I'm quite sure Lord Anguine," he stressed the title, "would not have tasked you with bringing a couple of hoes down to the farm. Not unless you've the same bug for keeping everything under your thumb that he has. If you're here looking for Stirling, he's likely at work at this time, so try the town hall. He's usually back around sundown, Sometimes later. Sometimes not at all." The man turned back and picked up the bucket, again holding it high above his head. "You can leave those tools there on the step. I'll deal with them once I've finished filling the feed."
"Stirling?" Why is that so familiar?
The man again turned to her, backing up the last few steps, holding the bucket almost directly below the chicken.
"Yes. Stirling Anguine. My brother."
The chicken walked off of the hay stack, landing in the bucket with a squawk of triumph.