Dungeons and Noobs

by Ryan Rimmel

  “That’s. . .wow, you’re dumb. You really want to fuck around with magic some more?” asked Shart. Suddenly, his eyes went wide. “Fuck, no! I’m your only living companion. I am NOT your next murder victim.”

  “That’s low, man,” I said.

  “I have one eye. I don’t want to hear about how bad you feel,” said Shart, looking around some more. Finally, he flicked his pudgy hands and three glowing runes appeared on the floor. “Besides, it's a puzzle.”

  All three stones were now distinct and dimly lit on the floor. One had a line running fully across it. Another had a line that ran to the middle and then shifted away at a 90 degree angle. The third was a T-junction.

  “This is going to be next to impossible,” said Shart. “It's a puzzle unlike any I have seen before. I think those runes mean something in an ancient magical language, though. We’ll need to hit a major library, like the one in the Zentarim Academy, to figure them out.”

  I walked over to the first rune and touched it. It promptly shifted ninety degrees, causing a line of power to pass through it to the orb. Looking at the other dim lines on the floor, I decided to push the first rune twice more. The second rune, I pressed once; the third, I pressed twice. The lines of power all passed through them and into the orb. “It's an old video game puzzle.”

  Shart looked baffled. “That’s amazing! These Video Games you speak of must be great teaching aids for adventurers.”

  As the runes aligned, the orb in the center seemed to thin out. After a long moment, a body became visible inside it. “Look, a body!” I said. “I guess they call this a tomb for a reason.”

  “Does he have any good loot?” asked Shart. That was a reasonable statement under the circumstances, though grave robbing was a bit unpleasant. Unfortunately, he did not. When he was buried, and the corpse was obviously a he, little more had been done than to put him into a simple linen robe. There was an amulet around his neck, but a quick scan showed it to be non-magical. Probably worthless.

  “Cracked amulet,” I said, continuing my examination, “and some linen robes.”

  Then, I got to the face. For a moment, I was awestruck. If this man had been in a movie with Leo, George, and all the Chrises, I would have assumed them to be extras. He was by far the most handsome man I’d ever seen with my own eyes. I was about to attempt Lore on the dead body, just to get some idea of what his stats had been, when I remembered where I’d seen him before.

  I rushed over to Shart and jammed my arm into his protesting mouth. A moment later, I’d found the book he had pocketed when he thought I wasn’t looking. I stared at it. “It's Grebthar!”

  “Grebthar has been dead for nearly a thousand years,” said Shart, fluttering over to the body. “OH MY . IT'S GREBTHAR!”

  “Dead Grebthar,” I said, and Shart immediately quieted.

  “Feck,” stated the demon.

  I stared for a long moment, a plan formulating. “Your resurrection spell.”

  “I said I’m saving that for you,” said Shart.

  “So I can fight the Dark Overlord,” I continued.

  “Yes,” said Shart, turning to face me.

  “Who’s better to fight the Dark Overlord than the actual Grebthar?”

  Shart paused for a long moment, as the gears in his brain turned. Eventually, the demon smiled. It was an actual, genuine smile. “Yes, I don’t have to make do with an inferior copy, and you don’t have to go through the eternal agony of having your brain wiped.”

  “Yes,” I began, “Wait, what? Eternal agony?”

  “Water under the bridge. Let me get out the ingredients,” said Shart. He reached into his own mouth and began pulling out various items and implements.

  “What did you mean about eternal agony?” I asked again.

  Shart mumbled something, as he pulled out a large bush, two braziers, and a dead chicken. He snapped his fingers, and the chicken came back to life.

  “Wait, you can resurrect a chicken?” I asked.

  “You want to compare the complexity of a human life with that of a chicken?” asked Shart. “After all, you eat them and use them for building materials.”

  “PETA would hate you,” I replied.

  “What does a Perpetual Ethereal Teleportation Array have to do with chickens?,” asked Shart gruffly. “Now, watch as I work. You’ll learn a little something about Ritual Magic. Wait! Actually, if you watch, you will actually learn Ritual Magic. You aren’t supposed to know how to do that. If I asked you not to watch, would you?”

  “Do you want me to lie?” I asked.

  “Fuck it, it's Ritual Magic time!” exclaimed Shart, as he began the spell.

  I quickly learned that Ritual Magic was very boring. There were a great number of steps, and all of them were rather tedious. Fortunately, I had nothing better to do, and this WAS a resurrection spell, after all. I decided to pay all sorts of attention. My Arcane Lore skill seemed to help me keep things in the right order.

  ● You have learned the Skill Ritual Magic. You are Amateur

  ● You have learned of the Ritual of Resurrection. You are unable to use this Ritual, but it has been added to your Ritual Book.

  ● You have earned the reward, Ritual Book

  A large book fell at my feet, landing with an audible plop. I picked it up and started trying to read along with what Shart was doing. He muttered something that sounded like, “Stupid Familiar Bond.”

  Finally finished, Shart looked over at the body of the Greatest Hero in the History of Ordinal. The demon looked down and, in a moment of supreme reverence, hacked out the Life Energy gizmo. It stickily plopped onto Grebthar’s chest.

  “Is hocking a loogie with the final reagent really required?” I asked. “My book just updated with that.”

  “I guess not,” said Shart. I began scanning the book for the relevant passage. By now, the magic was flowing throughout the room. It was so powerful that Shart probably would have been visible to anyone who knew what to look for, though the actual light in the chamber was fleeting.

  “One second, I can barely see anything in here,” I said as the ritual neared completion while I desperately jotted down notes.

  “Bit late now,” said Shart as he suddenly looked up, “Wait a second...”

  I turned to look at Shart in the face. Quite unexpectedly, a bolt of pure, white light shot out of the side of the room. It struck the demon square in the hole where his missing eye should have been. His entire body flickered for an instant before vanishing.

  ● Your bond with your familiar has been severed. Your familiar has been returned to Limbo.

  ● Perks lost: Demonic Regeneration, Demonic War Leader

  ● Benefits lost: Familiar Bond

  I fell, face-first, onto the ground. My body twitched as Bashara walked into the room.

  Chapter 41: An Obvious Betrayal

  “You are an idiot,” said Bashara, as she knelt down next to me. Looking back over to Grebthar, she added, “A very capable idiot.”

  “Why?” I moaned. The loss of the Demonic Bond had hurt. The snapping of my Ring of Mental Bonds had only increased the agony.

  “Because I can,” smiled Bashara. “Wait, did you mean ‘Why did I betray you?’, or ‘Why am I killing you?’ Oh, who cares? Same answer to both questions.”

  I began struggling to my feet. Bashara jammed her staff into my back, forcing my weakened body down.

  “If you must know,” she continued with disdain, “I have been searching for a dungeon under a castle that contains a very important prize. Instead, I found the body of Grebthar, and you trying to leech power from him. I expected better from you. Still, it has an easy solution. I’ll just destroy the body and continue about my business. No fuss, no muss.”

  “You are one of the Dark Overlord’s minions?” I asked.

  “Oh, that’s a terrible thing to think, Jim! People can be evil without any Dark Overlords. I work for my master, and she’s plenty evil without a Dark Overlord,” chuckled Basha
ra.

  Suddenly, I rolled to the side and got back to my feet unsteadily, longsword in hand. “You’ll have to get past me to get to Grebthar.”

  “I was really hoping you’d say that. It’s why I didn’t just obliterate you first,” said Bashara, a wicked grin contorting her features. “You see, Jim, you’ve embarrassed me a number of times now, and I always wondered why. How fortuitous for me that SueLeeta gets a bit loose-lipped after a few drinks. She let it slip that you had your little friend by your side. From there, it was just a matter of figuring out who he was. I talked to Grace and figured out it was an Elder Demon. It was suddenly crystal clear what was happening.”

  “What exactly do you think is happening?” I growled. I was suddenly free of both Shart and Badgelor. Instead of being a burden lifted, I was growing more and more angry.

  “Your unusual powers, skills, and abilities, a low-level, podunk mayor doesn’t have those. You were drawing your power from your Elder Demon familiar,” she said wickedly. “I’m guessing that’s your actual trait, but I’m hoping it's an item. Then, I can have my very own Elder Demon.”

  “That’s not my trait,” I said, throwing all of my Mana into my palm, “And you aren’t going to find out what it is. Guyver!”

  I shot out a blast of BioLightning, while Bashara readied her own spell. Hers was a lance of pure fire, and it slammed into my spell with all the force she could muster. Instantly, I became aware that Bashara had been holding back in our practice bouts. Just as quickly, she learned something terrible about me. The BioLightning bolt blasted through her Fire Lane spell, slamming into the tip of her staff. The force was great enough to blast the crystal from its head.

  “That’s not possible!” she exclaimed, the cooldown of her spells giving her a moment to recover. “That little demon is gone. You shouldn’t be able to work enough magic to light a candle.”

  I flipped from Mage to Sorcerer and prepared another bolt, launching it before she even had a moment to realize what was happening. Her hands flew up anyway, forming a tight disk of a Void Barrier. My BioLightning flashed towards her. For an instant, the Void seemed to contain my spell, but then it shattered. The BioLightning slammed into her, throwing the Wizard backward.

  Bashara landed hard, pointing her hand toward me. She uttered an arcane word, and I felt my ears pop. Silence descended on me. I couldn’t hear anything. I tried to speak, but nothing came out. That would make casting my spells impossible, as I couldn’t speak the words of power. Fortunately, I had other options.

  I reached into my scabbard and drew my shortsword, closing with her. I came in a flurry of blows, using my Quick Strike skill to gain two extra strikes with each blade. Her staff moved to block my longsword, and a barrier erupted from her hand to block my other blade. A bolt of lightning flew from the barrier, catching me in the torso and exploding in a cloud of ozone.

  Bashara grinned. Then, her head jerked back, as my shortsword slashed forward. My Sorcerer class had given me a perk that significantly increased my magical resistance. Her spell hurt, but the secondary effect of stunning me had not succeeded. She had moved out of position, slightly, though, which totally threw off my target. I swear I wasn’t actually aiming for her eye socket. As she jerked backward, my sword cut down the side of her face.

  The results were terrible. A second massive scar now ran down the side of her face, boiling with the dark energies that flowed through my Man-Slayer shortsword. I moved in to finish her, when she crushed a stone in her palm. A massive explosion detonated between us, sending me flying backward. My unattuned shortsword landed between us.

  Bashara stood shakily, her hand to her ruined face. She glared at me with her one remaining eye and mouthed, “You bastard.” Her silencing spell was still in effect, so I couldn’t hear her speak. Then, her eyes lowered to the sword, and the look of horror was complete. Her hand unconsciously traced the smaller, healed scar on the intact side of her face.

  Suddenly, the shortsword lifted from the ground and started spinning. Bashara screamed. An instant later, she magically flung it at me with all of her hatred.

  If Bashara had hoped that would buy her time, she was in error. I launched toward her with my sword, batting away her strike. She looked startled, as my sword pierced her chest. Then, her body blasted away into fragments. A bolt of fire sizzled past me, but, with my Fancy Footwork skill and the Evasion perk, I was able to avoid it.

  As I turned, there were six more Basharas waiting for me. Each one was holding a different wand and preparing a different spell. I slashed at the nearest one. Another spell blasted toward me from my left. That Bashara became invisible and cast a Void Bolt at me. That spell was targeted. Normally, it was unable to miss, but, as it closed, I activated my perfect Dodge. It cost me a Force point, but I considered it well worth it.

  Every single Bashara looked shocked. Using my second Force point, I closed my eyes and concentrated on finding the real Bashara. Suddenly, one of the image’s faces had two scars. I lurched forward, my Unerring Blazing Thrust readied. One hit from that, and Bashara was going to be dead. At the very least, she would wish she was. As I propelled myself forward, six rings blasted out of empty air before me. They wrapped around my calves, thighs, waist, arms, neck, and face.

  My Unerring Strike would not miss, but it did require me to be able to reach the target. I collapsed as the Burning, Acidic, Frigid, Electric, Void, and Shadow rings did their work. I began to Counterspell the first ring and despaired. If Bashara could keep these things powered up, I wouldn’t overcome them, not before succumbing to her magic.

  She knelt in front of me again, her face ruined and her staff destroyed. She was screaming at me. I couldn’t hear what she was saying, but her posture and expression told me she was shouting. She screamed until tears flowed down from her one good eye, the flap of her cheek spraying blood in all directions. After several minutes of her yelling into my blank face, she realized I couldn’t hear her. Bashara reached into her magical sack and drew out a black dagger. She stared at me for a long moment. Then, she straightened and walked over to where Grebthar was lying. From where my head was, I could only see the edge of the platform. Bashara stepped out of view.

  I had failed everyone.

  Steeling myself, I continued trying to break apart the bands. Bashara was a powerful Wizard, and her spells were hard to counter. However, she wasn’t invincible. The first band, the one around my neck, snapped. Suddenly, I could breathe normally again. It wasn’t much, because the other bands were crushing me, but it was enough. At the very least, I wasn’t going to black out. By now, my Health bar was well below half. Only five more rings to go. I was just about to start on the second band, when, suddenly, they all collapsed at once.

  I concentrated for a moment, and the silencing spell ended. Opening my eyes, I saw Grebthar standing above me, “And who might you be?”

  “I am Jim. I’m here to rescue you,” I said lamely.

  “Well, you certainly have an interesting idea of how to achieve that,” said Grebthar with a smile. “Would you like me to show you a trick?”

  “Sure,” I said, getting to my feet.

  He snapped his fingers. I looked at him. He looked at me.

  “Am I supposed to get you something? Pants, maybe?” I asked. Those linen robes were not covering up anything.

  “I must be a bit out of practice. Do you know where we are?” asked Grebthar, his confident smile returning.

  “Under Windfall Castle,” I said.

  “That is most excellent! How is my old castle?” asked Grebthar.

  “Destroyed. We are rebuilding it,” I replied.

  “Bully, let's get out of here, then. Out of curiosity, do you have a spare pair of pants?” asked Grebthar. “Also, could you perhaps tell me why you raised me from the dead?”

  “I’ll check on the pants. I need you to fight the Dark Overlord,” I said.

  Grebthar reached up and rubbed at his neck. Then, he looked around uncomfortably. “Is he back?�
��

  “I heard word that he would be back soon,” I said.

  “Well, let's be about it! If I wasn’t constantly fighting the Dark Overlord every waking moment, I wouldn’t be Grebthar, now, would I?” said Grebthar patiently.

  “Sure. What happened to Bashara?” I asked, looking around the room. Aside from her burnt staff, I didn’t see any evidence of her presence.

  “I killed her, of course. Try to keep up,” grinned Grebthar. “I’m not called ‘Grebthar’ for nothing.”

  Grebthar took a moment to stride around the chamber, looking in several hidden spots. Whatever he was searching for remained hidden. I fished a pair of pants out of my extradimensional space and switched over to menu time. I needed a minute to try to absorb what was going on.

  Shart was banished, Badgelor was dead, and Grebthar was alive. It was difficult to comprehend everything that had happened. It had all occurred so quickly. As I stood, simply thinking, I felt a tap on my shoulder. For an instant, I thought it was Shart. As I turned to look, I saw Grebthar looking at me sourly.

  “Where I come from, it’s considered impolite to go into your menus while others are talking to you,” stated Grebthar. I was in real time, just like everyone else. My bond with Shart had given me the high speed menu time that I’d taken refuge in. Now, it operated at the same speed as everyone else’s. I’d been staring at my navel for the better part of a minute.

  “Sorry, just checking some things,” I said.

  “Bad habit, don’t worry about it. You are only a third level Sorcerer after all,” stated Grebthar. “Idle question, how did someone of your level manage a resurrection spell?”

  “Uh, er, life glitch. I found it some time back and couldn’t think of a more deserving person to use it on,” I stuttered. The answer appeared good enough for Grebthar, who was nodding.

  “Ah, yes, of course. I am the most deserving. I am Grebthar, after all. Now, I suppose I’ll lead you out of here in exchange for these pants you’ve given me.” I blinked. That was an error Shart had made, as well. You were not supposed to have more than one class. If someone did a quick check with Lore, the first class listed was always the last class the person had used. There was no way to use Lore on myself, and Shart and I had never experimented with it.