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Ascension

Page 15

by B F Rockriver


  Quest Conditions:

  Find a cure:

  Find a medicine, magic, or any other means to cure or stop the spread of disease coursing through your veins.

  Speak with the Priests of Dawnport about a cure for the Blight.

  Or,

  Find William, the scholar, and ask for help.

  Optional: Find a way to cure others infected.

  Difficulty: Medium | Time Limit: 65h:22m:49s | Reward: Exp - Reputation increase with Dawnport Slums, Dawnport, Shadowstalker Pack, and Unknown Faction. Reputation Decreases with Unknown Faction. Unknown Curative. Unknown Item/s. *Bonus reward: Unknown*

  Failure: Time expires - Loss of reputation with slums of Dawnport, Shadowstalker Pack, and Dawnport. Death, loss of exp, and modified character abilities, statistics, and race. Automatic and permanent faction change to The Blighted Ones.

  Do you accept: Yes / No*

  *Failure to accept this quest does not make the consequences of failure immediate. You may choose to accept this quest at any time before the timer has expired.*

  After reading through his newest quest, Eli spoke, “Okay, while we search for a way to get cured, you can warn your people and prepare to leave. Secure the borders in any way possible. Try to keep it quiet. No matter how this plays out, it’s not safe beyond the protection of the city walls.” Standing, Eli waved for Don to unblock the door, before looking back to the wolffen doctor, “And Alyssa, try not to cause a panic.”

  Alyssa nodded before pushing her way through the two adventurers before stopping at the door. “Just make sure you fix yourselves. We need the rest of those items. Without them, people will die, blighted or not.”

  After locking the storeroom and leaving the healers' tent, Eli and Don made their way into the slums. As they passed, Eli noticed the same female mist elf leaning against a shoddy stone building, picking her teeth with a dagger. Her eyes never left Eli. Just before the two rounded a corner, the woman gave Eli a wink and a nod. A strange sense of familiarity washed over Eli as if a memory was trying to break through an unseen wall. He knew her somehow, from before he had come back. Unsure of how he knew her, and wary of being followed, Eli shoved Don into a nearby alley.

  “I think we’re being followed,” Eli said in a hurried whisper.

  “What?” Don spoke, confused as he stumbled.

  “I just saw a woman, a player, I think. She was staring at me. Then, she winked.” Eli said, before winking at Don and pushing him down the narrow space between two shacks.

  “Uh, dude. She may just be into you. Chicks dig that rugged, might be homeless look,” the turta said with a chuckle. “Have you seen her before?”

  “She was in town earlier today. I saw her when we were leaving Alyssa’s tent. I uh, tried to analyze her.” Eli turned his face, his words sounding more and more ridiculous as he spoke.

  “Yeah, man, like I said, that’s kind of taboo among players. Maybe she thinks you were just trying to get her attention. Go talk to her. You two could get down if you play your cards right. There’s nothing in the game's rules against sexy stuff.”

  “Uh, I don’t-” Eli started.

  “Just playin' with you, man. It’s probably a dude, anyway. Most of those super hot Elf chicks are just dudes trolling to get free shit. Don’t fall for it. Real girl gamers are badasses that don’t waste time in town winking at every stranger they see. Besides, we don’t have time for you to flirt. We have shit to do, within like,” Don’s eyes narrowed as they shifted to an unseen window, “sixty-five hours.”

  Eli sighed at the reminder of their timed quest and possible death. While pondering a solution to his problems, something sprang to mind. Bringing up his quest logs, he scanned through them, then did the same with his character sheet.

  Active Quests:

  Down With the Sickness

  Family Heirlooms

  Protecting the Pack

  The Blighted Isles

  Completed Quests:

  Helping the Helpful

  Character Sheet

  Name: Eli Miller

  Level: 2 | Class: None

  Hitpoints: 150 / 150 | Stamina: 140 / 140 | Mana: 100 / 100

  Attributes:

  Strength: 15

  Dexterity: 16

  Constitution: 13

  Intelligence: 9

  Spirit: 9

  Charisma: 10

  Luck: 11

  Available attribute points: 2

  Skills:

  Combat:

  Archery: 15 / 100

  Axes: 19 / 100

  Clubs: 1 / 100

  Daggers: 5 / 100

  Swords:15 / 100

  Tactics: 18 / 100

  Throwing Weapons: 5 / 100

  Unarmed: 10/100 | Subskill: Brawling: 5/100

  Improvised Weapons: 1/100

  Light Armor: 14/100

  Crafting:

  Lumberjack: 20/100

  Fletching: 5/100

  Social:

  Barter: 13/100

  Speechcraf: 6 /100

  Leadership: 13/100

  Suvival & Misc:

  Medicine: 6/100

  Perception: 10 / 100

  Stealth: 10/100

  Survival: 10/100

  Willpower: 10 / 100

  Except for the first quest to help Alyssa, all of his quests were still active.

  Hey Aida, does this mean we still have multiple options for completing these quests? Eli thought, sending a message to his guide. Oh, and can you clean up my character sheet a bit?. I don’t necessarily need to see how terrible I am at socializing.

  “Yes. If a quest is still active, it means that there are more objectives available. If you finish or fail a quest, it will become grey. As for the character sheet, this is a condensed list. There are thousands of skills, but I will do better to clean it up.”

  Thanks.

  With his character sheet adjusted Eli thought for a moment, before speaking to Don, “I think we should go tell the guards about what’s going on. We can’t expect to get a meeting with the king or anyone in the city, but Dawnport is in danger. They should know what’s happening.”

  “Aren’t you kind of wanted right now, dude? And, if we tell them, and they find out we’re infected, what’s stopping them from throwing us in quarantine. I mean, neither of us are in the best standing with Dawnport, and I don’t feel like going all mutant zombie mode while locked up in some cell.”

  “Take this,” Eli said, while retrieving a piece of diseased wolf meat from his inventory, its thickened blood somehow still dripping from it. “Take the meat as proof to the guards and tell them you found a wolf's corpse while you were looking for herbs in the woods. Tell them it’s diseased, and that they should show it to the magistrate, or the priests, or whoever deals with medical decisions for the city. Don’t tell them it’s blighted or anything about the blight. We don’t want to cause an immediate panic or draw attention to ourselves.”

  Don poked the rotting chunk of flesh with a sour look on his face before it disappeared into his inventory, “I guess that will work. But are you sure we should do this? I mean, won’t they go ape-shit and start quarantining everyone? They might lock the people in the slums and torch the place just to be safe. You said so yourself.”

  “That shouldn’t happen for at least a few days. NPCs can’t pull up item stats and info like we can. They will have to test the meat to see what it is, and that’s if the guards believe you and turn it over. Innocent people shouldn’t die because we didn’t do our part.” Eli’s words slowed, “I think I have a plan for the slums,” he finished, before walking down the alley, “And, I want to test something.”

  Several moments later, Eli leaned against the wall of a building, tucked between a shop and a rough cut wooden home near the western gate of Dawnport. Watching as Don had handed over the cloth-wrapped piece of diseased meat, Eli hoped that his friend would be okay. He wanted to be the one to turn it over, but Don had pointed out that they were more likely to arrest hi
m than believe him. So Eli hid and watched in hesitation, concerned that he had made the wrong decision. After the exchange, the guards handed Don a small satchel and a piece of paper. While watching Don accept the items, then turn and head his direction, another chime rang out in Eli’s mind. This one was different. Tones of varying pitch and tempo came to a crescendo, as dozens of tiny bells played in unison, followed by a notification.

  *Quest Complete!

  Congratulations, you have completed the quest, The Blighted Isle!

  You have warned both Alyssa and the guards of Dawnport about the Blighted wolves roaming the Wildwood. While unable to find a cure, you have found information about people who might help. Your quest continues!

  +1 Writ of passage. + 1 Badge of honor. +250 exp. +25 silver, 10 copper. +50 Reputation with slums of Dawnport. +100 Reputation with Dawnport. +100 reputation with Shadowstalker Pack. +50 Reputation with an Unknown Faction.

  *Alignment Change: Your alignment is now chaotic good.

  -100 Reputation with an Unknown Faction.

  Chain quest - Active - Down with the sickness.

  A moment later, the notification closed, and a welcome glow enveloped Eli. As he hid behind a small building, he leveled up.

  *Congratulations, You have leveled up! Welcome to Level 3.

  You have three new attribute points to allocate. Your health points have increased by 10.

  After he leveled up, he took a risk and raised his intelligence and spirit to ten. Both Don and Aida had advised him to save his points until he had a better idea of what to do, but Eli did not like knowing that he was of below-average intelligence. He didn’t like the feeling of being below average at anything, and his spirit and intelligence would be nine until he learned to train them or invested his points. After pulling up his character sheet, he used two of his attribute points, bringing them each to ten. Immediately his mana bar shot up ten points to one hundred, and his thoughts became more clear. It felt like someone had lifted a fog from his brain, one that he did not know was clouding it. After accepting the change to his intelligence, he adjusted his spirit. A moment later, a tingle of energy shot through him, strengthening the connection between his body and mind. Eli’s eyes widened as a sensation of wholeness overwhelmed him. It felt like a piece of him that was missing had returned, repairing his broken soul. He was finally as smart and strong-willed as the average adult. With a smile on his face, Eli watched as Don peeked into the pouch the guards had given him with a toothy grin. In the distance, a small voice shouted.

  “Guards!”

  The two looked at each other as they walked away from Dawnport gates, expecting to see men in armor rushing towards them. After looking around, seeing nothing in the crowds of people, Eli shrugged and kept walking.

  Again, the voice came, “Help, guards.” This time the voice had a wetness to it that reminded Eli of a child with a cold.

  Eli tucked into another dimly lit alley, the rough cut lumber and jagged stone walls scraping against his arms. A moment later, the Turta picked up the pace while trying to look unassuming. Don’s skills for stealth and blending in proved terrible, as he made an obvious dash to get out of sight. As his companion sprinted towards him, Eli heard dragging, yet hurried, footsteps, the scraping of each step growing louder as he scanned his surroundings. Unsure of who was approaching, he reached out from his hiding spot to wave for Don to move faster. As their eyes met, and the turta nodded, a small man, running with a limp, rushed straight towards his friend.

  “Watch -” Eli’s called out as a small tan-skinned, red-haired figure crashed into his companion, toppling him to the rough cobblestone road. “Out.”

  “Wh-what happened?” Don groaned, sprawling out onto the floor with his arms wide and his leg bleeding.

  Eli chuckled as his tension vanished. A small Gladekin man, who had somehow become stuck underneath Don’s bandolier, struggled to right himself. “I don’t know, but it looks like you found a lost child.”

  “Hilarious,” the stranger shouted, his voice cracking like a teen stuck in prolonged puberty.

  Eli watched as the man began flailing his arms and legs, attempting to right himself while somehow tangling himself further. His appearance was that of a young adult, yet his features were more defined, and his face hid a wisdom only found with age. Eli’s face grew puzzled, he always had a difficult time estimating the age of the Gladekin, as even their elders looked more like weatherbeaten younglings than relatively ancient beings.

  The sound of the Gladekin's voice startled Eli, who was now staring at the diminutive man in confusion, “Hey, wolfy, are you going to stand there, or are you going to help? There's no time.”

  “Dude, get this guy off me!” Don shouted, a tinge of pain in his voice. “The little fucker just kneed me in the balls.”

  “Sorry. What if I-” Somehow, the Gladekin spun around within Don’s bandolier and extended his arms into the Turta’s chest, making matters worse, “No, nevermind.” His breathing grew heavy, and Eli could sense fear in his voice.

  While watching the childlike man struggle, Eli noticed that the blood on Don’s leg didn’t belong to the monk. Finding no scratches, cuts, or wounds of any kind on the struggling Turta, Eli moved and walked towards the two figures trying to free themselves. As he reached down to free the trapped stranger, he noticed that the Gladekin was bleeding from a stab wound in his right side. Looking closely, Eli saw streaks of blood seeping from two thin cuts, one below the pit of his arm and another on the small man’s leg.

  “Oh shit, are you okay?” Eli shouted, moving quickly.

  After a minor struggle, Eli untangled the two and helped them both to their feet. Once the Gladekin was standing, his knees buckled, and he grabbed onto Eli’s leg for support. As he held Eli’s leg, a fount of blood poured down the small man’s wounds, splashing to the ground. Even while bleeding, the stranger attempted to break from Eli’s hold and sprint towards the gate. With little effort, Eli grabbed the child-sized humanoid and held him in place, not wanting him to getaway. He didn’t know who he was, but he had been screaming for the guards, and that worried him.

  “Damn it, Don, can you heal him? These wounds are pretty bad.” Eli shouted, putting his hand over the gash on the man's side to stop the bleeding.

  The captured man struggled fruitlessly before, going slack and pleading, “You have to let me go. I need to get to the guards.” Tears ran down his eyes, and he started weeping, “My father. He’s dying. I need to find help.”

  “You’re fucking dying,” Eli said, clutching the man’s arm to keep him standing and prevent him from running off. “Just calm down and let my friend take care of you. He’s a Healer.”

  Eli kept the man at arm's length, away from his pockets and weapons. The man’s wounds were real, but the Gladekin were known for their trickery. This whole situation could be a cover to gain access to their pockets or turn Eli in for some a bounty. His quest had mentioned imprisonment.

  “Don’t worry, little dude,” Don said, his voice rough as he clutched at his groin. “I’ll patch you up in no time. Then we can find your dad.”

  Slowly Don released his injured manhood, nearly toppling over from the pain. After inching toward the small man, the turta placed his palm over the wound on the Gladekins chest. A moment later, a pale blue aura enveloped Don’s entire body, then coalesced around his open palm. Once every bit of the gathered energy had transferred itself to a single point in Don’s hand, he struck. The blow was forceful, yet gentle enough not to injure. Its impact staggered the pint-sized traveler, making him fall back a step as the energy washed over his wound, closing it instantly. Steady breaths filled the Gladekins lungs, and his eyes shot open as he reached for the Turta’s hands.

  “Thank you, sir, thank you. You must come with me. You need to save my father. Hurry, we have no time; he’s dying. Hurry, hurry,” the freshly healed man shouted, the words flying from his mouth. Each syllable came faster than the other as he attempted to drag Don down
the street. “Now! Now we must go!”

  Eli stood motionless, having seen the full display of spiritual power in full view yet again. Don knew magic, and he was jealous. While it was no flashy fireball or lightning spell, it was definitely magic. As Eli’s mouth hung open, in awe of the healer’s ability, the gladekin pushed Don forward. After planting his feet and grabbing the small man, Don performed the action yet again, this time on the Gladekins leg. While watching his new friend get dragged down the southwesterly trade road, Eli stared and thought about how he needed to learn new abilities. He desperately wanted to use magic.

  “Take it easy, little dude. You need to rest. You had a punctured lung. I don’t even know how you could run,” Don said, allowing himself to be pulled along by the strange long-haired man. “You’re going to re-injure yourself.”

  “No, no, we have no time. You must help father. He’s hurt bad. The bandits got him!”

  At the mention of bandits, Eli started after the two slow-moving figures. While the Gladekin were thieves, due to their inability to grasp the concept of personal property, they were seldom liars. The child-like humanoids lived in small communal camps, which were often in danger by the threat of the larger races. For one to lie about something as serious as bandits or danger would result in exile. A community like theirs would not function without trust. They might steal from you, but they were honest about it. To them, it was borrowing. If this small man spoke of bandits and an injured loved one, he was telling the truth. In mid-thought, Eli received a quest notification, which confirmed his suspicions.

  *Quest Received: Kelly and the Bandits.

  You have encountered a bleeding Gladekin who has asked for help. After telling you of a bandit attack, he has begged you to follow him and heal his father. Save his dad, or don’t.

 

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