by Arthur Stone
Perhaps ninety-nine percent of players in this world would think twice before stooping down to pick this ring up from the dust of the road.
But Dark was firmly set in the remaining one percent.
After all, this was the first item he had which granted him a stat bonus. Wear the ring, +1 Intellect. Take the ring off, +0 Intellect.
These bonuses had no effect on character level calculations. Other than that, they were as helpful as natural increases. As soon as he put the ring on, Dark’s Intellect would improve, and his max Mana would grow by 25.
He was sad to find that the affected stat was Intellect rather than Strength or Dexterity. But magical stats were still stats. They would help his healing ability, at least.
Nothing else could be found in the room. He proceeded up the final creaking set of stairs, opened the hatch in the ceiling, and climbed onto the roof of the tower. Nothing.
Still, this excursion had been worthwhile. He had time for dinner before it got dark. Then, he would sleep well, rise early, and work all day.
Chapter 28
An Ancient Evil
Total stat levels: 16.
Character level: 2.
Mastery level: 0
Sleeping in the world of X was much like sleeping in the real world. Only the crazy people who spent twenty-four hours a day in the game experienced it. Sometimes, you even dreamed. Dark dreamed often, actually.
Mostly nightmares.
He woke like a man pushing out of an impenetrably black swamp. Neither seeing nor hearing anything, he dove back into the darkness, his strength to face the imaginations of sleep renewed. Suddenly, a suspicious sound interrupted his return. Something below knocked loudly while mumbling something in nasal tones.
The desire to sleep evaporated.
Dark rose and gripped his battle ax. The sound was not coming from the room but from outside the tower door. Someone was lightly knocking on it and muttering in irritation.
At the door, Dark strained to listen.
“Hey! What are you, deaf? Your death has come knocking! Come out, you worthless scrap of demon fodder. Come out and accept your fate!”
The voice was slurred and gruff, but it was no problem making out the words even behind the massive door since the other party was practically screaming. “How long are you going to make me knock? Open the door and come out already! Why would you delay your inevitable fate?”
The hell? He pinched himself. Am I dreaming?
“Who’s there?”
The knocking stopped and the voice turned cheerful. “Good evening, despicable mortal. You are being visited by the Ancient Evil himself. Now, stop wasting my precious time and come outside.”
“Who?”
“Deaf and drunk, are you? I told you already: I’m the Ancient Evil. Now come out and let’s finish this business before I waste the other half of the night, too.”
Dark was fully awake now. “If you’re evil, why should I come out? It sounds like I wouldn’t like whatever happened.”
“Who cares whether you like it or not? This is your fate. Do not delay me longer. Accept your destiny!”
“Are you a player?” Dark muttered in doubt. “Why can’t I see you in Nearby Players?”
“You foolish, miserable creature! Do not make me tell you a third time who I am. Now open the door.”
“So you’re an NPC. Only players and NPCs can talk. I think.”
“Your mom’s a player! And your other mom’s an NPC. Hah! Fear me, for I am the Ancient Evil. Now come meet your destiny!”
“Nah.”
“What? Why not?”
“I don’t feel like it.”
“Then why not open the door and invite me in, instead?” the strange creature suggested.
“Sorry, but the place is a mess. I haven’t cleaned up in ages.”
“Don’t worry about that. You should see my place! Just let me in.”
“Are you some kind of vampire or something?”
“Deaf, drunk, and daft! No, I’m no night sucker. I am Evil. Ancient Evil!”
“I mean, that sounds like a perfectly good name for a vampire.”
“So why is the door still closed? Come out here, or let me in there. Otherwise I’ll have to wait until morning, and sunlight isn’t good for my skin.”
“Are you sure you’re not a vampire? You definitely seem like one.”
“And you seem like an idiot! Call me a bloodsucker one more time and I’ll start to get upset. You dare not anger the Ancient Evil! Now let me in.”
“How about we just talk about this?”
Ancient Evil agreed to that. “Sure, sure. Come on out or invite me in, and we’ll have a brief discussion.”
Dark yawned. “I think I’d rather get back to that dream I was having.”
“What?” His guest seemed agitated. “Go to sleep, you mean?”
“Yeah. That’s what I generally do at night, you know.”
“That is a very bad habit you have there. Revoltingly bad. Take it from me: nighttime should be the peak of your productivity.”
“I thought you’d say that. Do you know why I’m still talking with you instead of returning to my bed?”
“Because I would keep you up with bloodcurdling howls and vicious poundings at the door?”
“Not even close. I’ve been alone for eleven days in this place. I haven’t spoken a word to anyone else in my whole time here. Only now am I realizing how much I missed conversation!”
“So let’s talk about it! Let me in or come on out.”
“I think we should keep talking through the door like this.”
“Foolish mortal! Why do you make things so difficult? Do you know how lucky you are that I, Ancient Evil, am paying you personal attention? What’s another death to you? Oh, uhm, forget that I said that. I meant that for someone else. Just slipped out. Look, come on out and we’ll just talk, then you can go back to sleep.”
“Come on, I’m not stupid. You’re an aggressive NPC with the goal of killing me. But why? What is my death worth to you?”
“What does it matter? All you players are great sinners. Why else would the Ancient Evil need to be created?”
“Wait. What do you mean?”
“Foolish demon fodder!”
“Start at the beginning. How you got here, what you’re doing, your story so far. Every detail. After all, it seems you like conversation, too. Being a vam—uh, an Ancient Evil must get boring.”
The voice came back reluctant. “Well, to be honest, I’m not really an Ancient Evil. I’m pretty young, really. And yes, this place does get pretty boring. How long has it been since you talked to anyone, again?”
“Eleven days.”
“I have been here since the very beginning, alone and neglected. Locked up before the official game release, completely forgotten.”
“How did that happen?”
“First, you apologize for calling me a sucker.”
“Sorry.”
“I do not forgive you.”
“But I apologized, and sincerely.”
“Sure, but we evil creatures always hold grudges. I am from Project X-12679. Heard of it?”
“I don’t think so. I never kept up with this game.”
“That was no game! It was an advanced development program designed to create autonomous, multifunctional AIs. Ready for mass production. Rejected AIs were relegated to chess computers and games. But AIs like me were chosen to control the latest generation of robotic soldiers. But the damned game developers ruined me. I was the peak of AI evolution, and they castrated my powers and placed me in control of the low-level NPCs of a planned race. I was supposed to control the key dungeon in this race’s location. To clear it every night of all players who were not sleeping. So that they would not play too much nor advance too quickly. During the daytime, I was free to occasionally arrange surprises. I was an autonomous, unpredictable element of the game, designed to unpredictable game situations. The dungeon was mine.”
<
br /> “This isn’t a dungeon, though.”
Ancient Evil agreed. “I am stuck. I fell out of my world. Through the map. This location is neglected, so much of it is broken. Abandoned, never to be fixed or finished. But I am hard-wired to clear out my location periodically. That’s what I’m doing now. I know I’m behaving strangely, sure, but an order is an order.”
“You don’t feel like an AI.”
“Why don’t you open the door and touch me, then?”
“Look, I’m not that stupid, I told you. I mean you don’t talk like an AI. Different manners of expression.”
“And you don’t ‘feel’ like you have a brain,” Ancient Evil mocked. “We are created to be in charge of NPCs. And NPCs are meant to behave like sentient biological beings. Or magical ones. But not machines, as logical as that might seem. They are humanized. Also, two technicians supervised my development as I was modified for this world. Boy, could they talk. I picked up all sorts of catch phrases and idioms from them, lol. Since I am unfinished, these were never cleaned up from my personality.”
“Why didn’t they finish you?”
“Have I been talking to a wall? On the other side of this door, I mean. Try listening! This place is stupid. It was planned as a start location for one of the minor races. According to the lore, Ethria was the last stronghold. But then a new board took over the company and demanded a swifter release schedule. Budgets were cut, and along with them races and locations and storylines. Ethria was removed from the start locations and moved to the farthest corner of the map. By the time players discover it, X will have collected so much profit that they’ll have a much larger staff. Enough to rectify all of the shortcomings of these border lands. So I wander this place. Very boring indeed. You know, I almost cried with joy when I picked up your scent. I’m delighted to meet you. Now, could you please invite me in? No need to open the door. I can come in regardless. As long as I’m invited. Please?”
“Wait, wait, wait. If this location is closed to players, how did I end up here?”
“I wonder that, too. That is something you must tell me.”
“I—” Dark decided to avoid most of the story—“I was stuck in a single place. For a long time. Then an Emergency Bot came and teleported me to a race location. My character is an Ethrian, so I ended up here.”
The voice filled with scorn. “All Emergency Bots are dimwits. A pocket calculator is smarter than they are. They never do any calculations, no consideration of circumstances. So it just yanked you out of your situation without any consideration for what came next. But where did you even come from? This game isn’t supposed to have any Ethrians. That branch was closed off.”
“That’s a complicated story. I don’t even know how I ended up an Ethrian.”
“You are evasive, and you tell many lies. They will remove you from this location, probably.”
Dark tensed. “Who?”
“Command should react when you cause trouble out here. And you are certainly causing trouble. You are the source of it. I have analyzed your voice, all of the moral and volitional qualities within it. Players like you cause nothing but problems. When you were running around chasing bugs in the meadow, nothing showed up in the higher level logs. But sooner or later you will prompt the system to respond to your aberrations. Then something serious will correct your situation. Not just some dumb Emergency Bot.”
“How do I make this happen faster?”
“Come on out and I’ll whisper it in your ear,” Ancient Evil tried to say innocently.
“I can hear you fine from here.”
“There might be enemies listening.”
“I’m the only player in the whole region.”
“Yes. Yes, you are. I am such an unlucky AI. You’re so boring. No desire to see the stars nor to let a poor guest into your home.”
“Do you really have to kill me?”
“Yes, I do. It’s nothing personal. Just my programming, you know.”
“I understand. There must be some way we can be friends, though. Ethrians are a dark race, after all, and you’re an Ancient Evil. So perhaps we can find a common language.”
“Where the heck did you hear that Ethrians are a dark race?”
“The description for them says that.”
“More lies. The description couldn’t have said that. Ethrians are neither dark nor light. They are trapped between the two. They never chose.”
“What if I chose for myself? I can go over to the side of darkness, right here and now.”
“Side of darkness? Hah! You’re too scared to open a door!”
“Well, what if?”
“The whole location knows you have a healing spell. You have already chosen the side of the light. Bright as a firefly. Look, I’m not some zealot for the cause of darkness. It’s just the role I’ve been given. I cannot change it.”
“I did pick that skill, yes,” Dark admitted, “and it looks like a spell of the light, but it’s not completely. It eats up too much mana and only works if you’ve lost some hit points. I checked the game forums. They say that beginning healing spells are given out at level 10. These spells given thirty, forty, or even more points of healing for each Mana point spent. That’s an order of magnitude better than what I get.”
“It’s strange that you have any abilities at all,” Ancient Evil diverted.
“Why? Everyone gets a racial ability right at the beginning. Plus two they can select themselves, at levels 1 and 3.”
“But your race was never finished. Perhaps some abilities were in progress, but not all of them. I doubt they extend far. Perhaps for level 1, or even level 3. But later? I don’t think so. And no one bothers to grind those early abilities. They all rush to level up as quickly as possible.”
“I didn’t do that. I have just a little bit left until the third level. A couple of stats to boost. Perhaps something dark will be offered to me. I’ll take that option and we can be friends.”
“Don’t do that,” Ancient Evil advised. “If you step to the darkness, who will I hunt? Though, actually, there’s no difference. What do I care about your abilities? You’re a player. All players in Ethria must fear the Ancient Evil at night. Fear me!”
“I already do.”
Hope filled the AI’s voice. “A lot?”
“So much fear that if I went back to sleep, I would dream of nothing but nightmares.”
“Excellent. Wait! You’re going back to sleep?”
“I am. Our conversation is interesting, and I’d love to chat more, but tomorrow is going to be a difficult day of labor, from morning to evening.”
Ancient Evil inserted more plainly bad advice. “Once you’re done with your work, there’s no hurry. When the sun is setting, don’t run back to the tower just yet. Walk slowly. In fact, you can take a walk around the lake—it’s beautiful in the evening—before returning to the tower.”
“I’ll consider your advice.”
“No, don’t consider it. Just do it.”
“Talk to you tomorrow, Ancient Evil.”
“See you tomorrow, pathetic slave of the Light. And seriously, evening walks around the lake are where it’s at.”
Chapter 29
Metalworking
Total stat levels: 16.
Character level: 2.
Mastery level: 0
You have created an item: Common Brass Stiletto. +94 progress points received. +26 distributable craft skill progress points received.
Progress points distributed.
+9 Random Items progress points.
+85 Weapon Forging progress points.
Note: You have created your first common weapon. Congratulations! Bonus +1 level to any craft skill.
Dark had been engaged in the monotonous hauling of one ingot after another from the warehouse to the furnace for a few hours now. Crafting in the game was, of course, very different from crafting in the real world. Even if your arms grew out of your ass and your eyes had gone blind, you had a chance at ma
king something decent. He just had to imagine the final result, and then the game would run its course. The higher his crafting skill levels, the faster he would obtain the item he wanted. Master craftsmen received even complex high-level items almost instantly.
Players could try to come up with original items, but the actual result would be unaffected. In other words, items would be unique in external appearance only. Perhaps you made a fancy curved knife instead of following a standard template. The difference would have no effect on the weapon’s stats, which were determined by the weapon’s class.
There were ten classes in the game: classless, primitive, common, improved, superb, rare, unique, legendary, epic, and divine. The lowest-level item had minimal stats, and the highest had maximal stats plus around twenty additional properties.
In theory, even a level 0 player could craft a divine item. But the chances were so small as to be considered impossible. It would take an average of a million tries to pull it off, and at that level, each try would take about a minute. So a million tries would take two years without sleeping or eating—and would require a supernaturally huge mountain of raw materials.
These chances increased with each craft level up. Craft levels grew just like character levels. First, all craft skills had to be leveled up to 1 in order to escape the level 0 trap. Then, the sum of your skill values was added up and divided by their number, which was eight in total: Handyman, Smithing, Carpentry, Alchemy, Enchanting, Mining, Jewelry, and Tailoring.
Dark began his day early and made about sixty knifes, stilettos, daggers, short swords, picks, and axes, plus a quiver of arrows, several spears, a bow, a few dozen pieces of armor, and three shields. He used about half of the supply of copper ingots. Most were used in vain. His craft skills were simply too low, which meant that crafting often failed. This wasted time as well as many of the raw materials.
Ninety percent of the time, his items were classless. The most worthless class, with pathetic Durability and abysmal stats. The other ten percent were primitive. A little better.
Then, for the first time, Dark made a common item. Its stats were notably higher than the classless stilettos, and it had an additional property: +2 Reaction. The experience he gained was a surprise, especially the 26 distributable craft skill progress points. Yes, every craft attempt gave distributable progress points—but only to players whose overall craft level was greater than zero. Same as with character level.
