“Yeah, but you got turned into a chew toy in the process.” Nathaniel was grinning, his bloody hatchet in his hand. “Glad I chopped firewood yesterday and leveled up my Axes skill. Too bad it resets when I become an adult. At least Scout gets to keep his experience. I got a hundred and eighty and he got two hundred from that fight.”
Perplexed and in pain, Chris looked over at the huge dog. “How does an animal get XP?”
Nathaniel shrugged. “I don’t know, but he’s got a class and everything. Pretty cool, I think.”
“Wait, what class is he?”
“Something called ‘War Hound.’ At least that’s what his character sheet says.”
“Do you pick his skills for him?”
Surprised, Nathaniel realized, “No. I don’t. Do you think he picks them for himself?”
The paladin and the young man looked over at the dog. Scout just tipped his head to the side and let his tongue loll out to the side of his bloody mouth. Intelligence was not the first descriptor that came to mind for the look.
Bewildered Chris looked back at Nathaniel and shook his head. He needed to clear the air with his follower. “So, with a War Hound and a Paladin fighting that monster, what in the world was a level 6/8ths Child doing? Why did you break from our plan and come over here where you could have gotten attacked? This dog and I both have got four times your health don’t we? What have you got, like 2 HP?”
Chris was staring at his follower with frustration and amazement.
Innocently, Nathaniel corrected the paladin. “I’ve got eight, which is about as much as you had when I came over. And, I couldn’t sit by and watch you get killed again. It was bad enough with the ghoul. Now I know what it must have... Nevermind. Let’s get back to my parents.”
An icy chill like the touch of the ghoul shot up Chris’s spine. There was something about Nathaniel that kept remind Chris of his little brother Jack. Was it just the similar appearance? No, there were other things, too. He knew RPG mechanics, he had died recently on Earth, and he named his dog the same thing as Chris and Jack had named theirs. True, Chris and Jack had been naming a little beagle and not a ginormous German Shepherd lookalike.
Chris’s leg was throbbing. The pain eventually drove out all his other considerations.
The paladin took a deep breath and navigated to the auras on his character sheet. He looked at the Healing Light and thought, “CAST!” The spiky orange ring of light surrounding him switched to a smooth, pulsing red one.
You have invoked an Apprentice Healing Light Aura. Your party will regenerate 5 Health every 5 seconds for 70 seconds.
You have 2/10 Mana.
Exhausted and in pain, Chris sat there looking at Nathaniel petting Scout. The body of the wolf they had just slain sat in stillness in the leaf litter. Every fifth pulse of his red ring of light was extra bright, and he could feel his ankle and calf healing. That pain was subsiding as well. But, he still felt the ache of Jack that had been with him for so long now. Maybe that could be healed with magic in the Divided Lands too?
Uncertain, Chis asked in a hushed voice, “Are you my little brother?”
Nathaniel looked up with a strange expression on his face. Chris could not read it at all. The boy kept petting the dog, but he replied quietly, “Are you the son of the hunter and his wife, too?”
Chris whispered, “No.”
“There’s your answer then.”
***
Rage, despair, and confusion had spun through Chris’s heart like jagged clockwork gears, grinding and ripping everything in their path. The paladin and boy had walked back to the cottage in near silence. Every look at Nathaniel twisted the emotional gears some random amount around and set them off again.
One moment, Chris was angry with God for putting this person here in this Game that reminded him so much of his brother, but was not him. The next, he would be trying to figure out what it was about Nathaniel that made him ever think that he was Jack. Was it just the color of his eyes?
Chris had stared into those eyes so many times in so many circumstances. He remembered staring at his little brother as they hid under the blankets with a flashlight and told stories. He remembered glancing into those eyes to see how hurt Jack was when he fell in the woods. He remembered staring into those eyes as they looked weaker and weaker in the hospital. How had Jack stayed so happy? How had he...
Then, despair would reach up out of the leafy ground and grasp at his heart. Chris could feel it like a physical thing clutching in his chest where his own life beat still thumped on. He did not deserve to live. Jack should not have died. How could God have taken Jack? How could God have killed his little brother?
And then, the gears in his soul would roll on, crushing all in their path. The only thing that could stop them was the stone cottage. Relieved at the sight of them, the hunter’s wife emerged, eager to check on them. Chris’s gears ground to a halt, interrupted by the intrusion of another soul into his path.
“How are you three? I’m pleased as punch to see you come waltzing back here all in one piece. Did you kill that beast? I’m mighty impressed if you did...”
Chris had to pull things together and talk to her. He managed a polite smile and started talking. “We made it through all right. Took a little damage, but my healing aura patched me up real fast. Your son did a great job. Delivered the last blow as a matter of fact. I’m sure he’s going to be a huge help during this whole Game.”
By the end of piling all these words on each other, Chris had managed to bury his anger, doubts, and troubles, sure to be exhumed at some later date. He smiled more genuinely as the hunter’s wife invited them into the cottage for some tea and bread.
“My husband should be back pretty soon. You might as well wait inside and have a little something. Big day you’ve all had!”
Chris nodded and they followed the woman into her cottage. Even if his Paladin magic had healed him physically, he still needed a little time to recover.
Pleasantly, the hunter’s wife was able to fill Chris in on the function of a hunter’s cottage in the Game. That distracted him nicely and got his analytic side working instead of his emotions.
“There’s many resources in the Game as I understand it. Things like food, gold, stone, wood, and the like. We produce hides and food in the hunter’s cottage. We increase a side’s trade by a little bit as well. Now, the cottage is the second level of the building. A smaller one of these is a hunter’s hut, and a larger one is a hunting lodge. The lodge allows multiple hunters to be stationed there and for some extra benefits as well. It also acts like an archery range. We’re just one kind of independent resource building that can be made. There’s also ranches, plantations, corrals, mines of various types, woodcutters’ camps, and some other ones.”
Relaxing into the technical Game details, Chris sipped his tea. “Why do you call them ‘independent’ resource buildings?”
Realizing why that might confuse some one, the hunter’s wife smiled. “Oh, that is because we can be built and exist apart from a village. Most buildings need to be a part of a settlement of some kind.”
Without a knock, the cottage door swung open, and in came a large man with a quiver slung across his back. “Whoah, Nadia, why did you not tell me we had guests!”
The woman giggled at her husband. “We have guests! There, I told you when first I saw you.”
Eager to make a good impression, Chris stood up and formally introduced himself. “Well met, good huntsmen. I am Sir Christopher the Paladin. I am on a quest to raise a kingdom and win the Game.”
Still a little surprised, the hunter took off his little cap and bowed. “Gregor the Hunter, Sir Paladin, at your service.”
“There are two bits of service I would like to request. The first is that your son become my squire and accompany on my quest.”
Gregor looked at Nathaniel. Nathaniel gave a smile and a thumbs up sign. The hunter nodded. “This seems most acceptable.”
“The second is tha
t you sell me a short bow and a quiver of arrows for it.”
“This will be more difficult to do. The bow I have already made. But, I have only a few arrows. There is a wolf...”
Butting in proudly, Nathaniel exclaimed, “We killed it!”
Gregor was too surprised to respond for a moment. Finally, he managed, “But, it was a giant, like Fenrir out of the old myths on Earth...” Then, he caught himself and stopped.
Ignoring the mention of Earth, Chris explained, “We drew it out of its den and slew it in the valley right there.”
“Did you skin it yet?” asked the huntsmen, clearly out of professional curiosity.
“No, none of us thought to. For that matter, I don’t think Nathaniel or I have the needed skill.”
Gregor explained, “I am a Journeyman at it, and nearly a master. This may meet a requirement I was given to advance. I must skin a monstrous or magical creature. Surely, this beast was one or the other or even both.”
“I can tell you that,” replied Chris as he reached into his inventory pouch and thought about the Bestiary. A moment later, the pouch was stretching to let the book slide out. Chris plopped it onto the table next to his tea and flipped to the W’s near the back.
“Here it is, ‘Wolf, Dire’ is categorized as a monstrous creature. Not magical though.” Flipping some pages, he paused. “Unicorns are magical, but I bet we wouldn’t want to skin any of those.”
Nadia, the hunter’s wife, interjected while she poured her husband some tea. “Oh no, certainly not. They talk and are nearly like people.”
Excitedly, Chris asked, “Are there some around here?”
“No, I apologize Sir Paladin. I have not met any of the beasts. It was just something I knew because of my Monster Lore skill. I’m at the same stage as my husband is in Hunting and Tanning. Perhaps I will go and study this monstrous creature in the flesh and see if that helps my skills as well.”
Gregor smiled at Nadia. “That sounds like a fine plan. We can go now and I’ll be done before sundown, at least with getting the hide off the beast. Sir Paladin, it looks like I won’t be hunting for a bit thanks to you. Let me see if I can round up enough arrows and a short bow for you while my wife packs our things for our little excursion.”
Chris explained quickly, “The bow is for Nathaniel, so a lighter draw would be better.”
“Ah! I see... Let me look then...” Gregor disappeared through a doorway into another room of the small cottage.
***
“You’ve only got twelve arrows now, so don’t be wasting any more.” Frustration edged into Chris’s voice.
Defensively, Nathaniel hugged the bow to his chest. “How am I supposed to use it well in a fight if I don’t practice?”
Chris pulled an arrow out of one of the last trees on the edge of the forest. “I guess you won’t be practicing on much else until we get to Fenton village.”
The road had split a few hundred yards back, and the motley little crew had taken the fork that ran down a hill to the edge of the river instead of the one that kept going back to Brother Aleksandr’s church. The afternoon sun was drifting lazily down toward the horizon as they walked. Scout splashed about down on the pebbly strand at bottom of the embankment. Of the dog, the boys, the sun, and the river, none seemed in any great hurry to get anywhere in particular.
‘River’ was perhaps generous in Chris’s mind, but the flowing water was too big to call a mere stream. Perhaps creek was the right word? Tributary maybe?
Neither Chris nor Nathaniel had lived in a time or place where the nomenclature of bodies of water had been of any import to them. Whatever it was called, it looked too deep to walk across and too fast to swim easily.
Chris decided to let the arrow issue go for the moment. “So, tell me what you know about this village of Fenton we’re headed for.”
Nathaniel screwed up his face with effort for a moment. “All right, here’s what my Local Knowledge will give me. Fenton has about ten families there. Six are farmers. One’s a potter, one’s a baker, one’s a weaver, and the last one is an apothecary. He’s not actually a family, just lives by himself. He brews health and mana potions and the like as well as medicines. The farmers grow wheat, oats, and hay for a couple of cows and a flock of sheep that they share between them. The town used to trade on a road that ran through the fen, but like I said up in the belfry, there’s goblins in the way right now. All of the buildings are Level 1 and unimproved. Looks like they don’t have a mayor right now. Position’s open! You want to apply?”
Excitedly, Chris looked at the younger boy, “Yes, how do I do that?”
Embarrassed, Nathaniel admitted, “Sorry, it was just a figure of speech. There’s no application process that I know of. But, I bet if you...”
Chris grabbed Nathaniel’s arm, “Wait, I’m getting a notification about Jeremy giving me a gift again. Ugh, two wood? Is that going to be ten skeletons? I guess if five didn’t do the job last time…”
The swirling purple and black vortex whirled into existence in a rather inopportune location for the incoming attackers. The first skeleton through the portal ended up walking the edge of the embankment like a tightrope. The log connecting the first five skeletons made it awkward for them to move and stay balanced.
Caution and a hint of fear colored Chris’s voice. “That’s only one wood. I’d love to rush them, but who knows what’s coming next.”
Nathaniel backed up two steps and reached for his arrows. “How should I handle this, boss?”
Another skeleton-log combo began to exit the swirling vortex. But, the first group was still trying to keep their balance and get out of the way. There was no room at the top of the bank for the new arrivals.
In the commotion, the paladin did not even hear his squire’s question. Chris was trying to push aside his fear aside and just rush in and push the whole mess into the river. There were just too many of the skeletons already looking at him, ready for a fight. It looked like forest of femurs, a cell block of ribcages, and a zoo’s worth of razor sharp claws.
What if they grabbed him and dragged him in with his armor on? How did swimming even work? How long could he last with his 24 Stamina?
Before Chris could decide to be more heroic that could possibly be good for him, he was saved by one his party members.
From the edge of the water, Scout began barking viciously at the new enemies. With no reservations like Chris or trepidation like Nathaniel, the giant dog darted up the embankment and snapped his jaws shut on the tibia and fibula or one of the last skeletons out of the portal.
Out of balance and tied awkwardly to a log, the hound’s victim had no chance. Loosing footing, the skeleton pitched itself forward over the log. The extra weight at the back, threw the entire group’s balance off. The whole second log and its five skeletons stumbled and tumbled down the bank into the water. Their momentum was so great, they ended up well into the river. Some found footing on the river bottom enough to fight the current, but the river was fighting to take their log and drag it away.
With a stuttering, nervous chortle, Chris shouted, “One out of two isn’t half bad, Scout! Keep an eye on those guys!” He was relieved that his ‘caution’ had paid off instead of costing them.
The other log full of skeletons was in much better shape without the second log causing problems. The skeletons began to move in unison away from the river and toward Chris and Nathaniel on the road.
A low whistle of concern came from Nathaniel. “Look at the labels on those skeletons.”
Chris got a familiar sinking feeling in his stomach as he checked the approaching undead.
Strong Skeleton
Strong Skeleton
Skeleton Warrior
Strong Skeleton
Strong Skeleton
Chris glanced back over his shoulder at Nathaniel and asked, “How much stronger do you think ‘Strong’ Skeletons are?”
Nathaniel gave more ground. They were backing down the gentle slope of the
road toward the village. “I thought you read the entries for undead in that book!”
“I didn’t memorize them. Wait! Monster Lore!”
Chris focused on the lead skeleton and tried to identify it.
Strong Skeleton, Undead, Health ?/?, ATT ?, DMG 2-7, DEF ?
“Man! I must have got lucky on the wolf. This doesn’t give me hardly anything this time. I guess we know their damage is two to seven now. Keep giving ground. I’m going to try to ID the guy in the middle.” The middle skeleton looked slightly larger and sturdier than the others; it had been tagged as a Skeleton Warrior.
Skeleton Warrior, Undead (Caster), Health ?/? Mana ?/?, ATT +6, DMG 2-7, 5-10, DEF ?
Chris was indignant at the ‘caster’ designation. “How can a warrior be a caster? That doesn’t make any sense. If anybody shouldn’t be a caster, it’s a…”
As if to answer Chris’s objections, the middle skeleton raised one of its boney hands and a swirl of purple energy formed quickly into a short sword made of sharped bones lashed together with rotting sinew.
Dour, Chris could only manage to answer the display with, “Fine. So that’s how it works.”
Scout barked from the bottom of the bank. He was about twenty yards up river from Chris and Nathaniel now. The skeletons and log in the water were still fighting the current straight out from him. But now, there were only two of them still standing.
The sight of the struggling undead inspired Chris. “Quick, down the bank! Stay out of range. Don't get hit. Don’t waste arrows!”
Nathaniel was happy to have some orders to follow. Nothing helped in a crazy situation more than somebody else acting like they knew what to do.
Chris and his squire slid down the steep embankment in a tumble of stones and cloud of dust. The paladin turned and saw the skeletons making a beeline for them. Hefting his war hammer, he darted over to the first one in line.
You attack the Strong Skeleton with TRIP. Chance to succeed 70% [(6-2) x 5% + 50%]
Openings Page 12
