Quintessence swirled around me as I turned around, my blade dripping corrupted life juice onto the ground.
“You all right?” I called out to Dorrin. He looked shell-shocked.
“Yeah!” he called back. Beside me, the mule hee-hawed softly and I couldn’t help but think it was a sound of approval. I scooped a few Soothing Syrup bottles from the ground, retrieved my Blunderbuss and strode over to him.
“What were you thinking, man?” I scolded him. “Didn’t you know those guys would kick your ass? Way too many of them.”
“I do now,” he replied, obviously embarrassed. “I guess I just thought—I mean—I know this game takes skill, so I thought maybe I could get the best of them.”
“Well, think a bit harder next time,” I scoffed, collecting more Quintessence from the fallen foes.
Dorrin had a very boyish face and was still wearing starter gear. I certainly could have been wrong, but I just got the vibe from him that this was an awkward loner who probably looked about the same in real life. Delusions of grandeur, thinking he could handle a situation well above his station.
But there was something else in his eyes—something dark.
“That’s a badass cape,” he said admiringly.
“Thanks.” I nodded. My Rally bar was still full, but fading slowly, obviously maintained by staying in combat.
“I really would have been in trouble if you hadn’t come along,” he added.
Yeah, yeah, I thought. My health was still low, as I hadn’t bothered popping a syrup after the fight ended. Pretending I was interested in the mule, I turned my back on the boy and sipped the cool air, waiting for what I knew was coming. When I heard the rustle of his clothes behind me, I couldn’t help but smile.
I spun, and my Blunderbuss roared as he brought his Bloodletter down towards me. Just before the riposte sounded, I saw a flash of horrified shock in his eyes.
Complete and utter betrayal.
The riposte went off, and the silly boy collapsed to his knees.
“Make it less obvious next time,” I scolded him. “Oh, and get good while you’re at it.”
I saw a look of fear and regret in the poor bastard’s eyes as I drove my Loathsome Axe into his chest.
Massive!
380
The damage shocked me, but then again, he was the first player I’d ever attacked and he was wearing only newbie starter gear. Add onto that my riposte and full Rally, and I guess it made sense. The light vanished from his eyes and he collapsed to the ground.
Unlike the beasts, Dorrin dropped no Quintessence, but when you were killed by another player, your loot was fair game to the victor. I looked down at his fallen body.
Corpse of Dorrin—Slain by Rand
A slight gleam came from his chest and I bent down and ran my hand through it. His inventory appeared, displaying every item he had on him. His Bloodletter wasn’t there, which I assumed was a single bit of mercy from Mizaguchi, ensuring low level players wouldn’t be deprived of their starter weapon, but the rest was fair game.
I selected his starter pants and dragged them into my inventory, smiling to myself as I thought about him running around with nothing but a loincloth, fighting through the woods with Death Penalty trying to retrieve his body, then discovering he had no trousers.
“Serves you right, dick,” I said to myself as I popped a few Soothing Syrups to restore my health to full. I turned and walked over to the mule and put a hand on his strong neck. He blew air in a familiar way as I stroked his thin mane.
The mule tossed his head in a way that seemed happy to me, and I took the reins that hung from his halter and led him away from the carnage back to the old cart track. I had enough Quintessence to raise my Strength again, bringing it up to 13.
Rand—Level 3
Vitality: 11 HP = 277
Toughness: 5
Strength: 13
Skill: 5
Viletaint: 8
Intellect: 5
I gave the mule a pat on his head as the cart’s wheels found the worn parts of the track. “You’ll be my friend though, right, pal?”
19
Getting a Foothold
“I miss the town—the way it was. But no way in Hell am I venturing back there, boyo! Not the way things are now! Turn into one of those crazy things? Drooling and sputtering, screeching like a demon? No thanks! I’m happy out here with my bonfire and roast duck thank you very much!”
—final page of a journal of an unknown traveler
Wilhelm was waiting for me as I came down the hill, sitting on a wooden crate, legs wide and arms crossed behind his head.
“Thought you weren’t coming back,” he chuckled.
“You kidding?” I replied. “That was record time. Didn’t help that I got jumped.”
“Oh?”
“Some turd named Dorrin,” I explained, stopping the mule just ahead of the Smith’s piles of gear. “Tried to stab me in the back.”
“You handled him, eh?”
“Easy,” I replied with as much arrogance as I could muster. Wilhelm grinned as he got to his feet and started loading up the cart.
“I see why the old bastard gave you his cloak,” he remarked, curling his massive arms around stacks of raw ore. I wasn’t sure what to say to that, really. It had been a long time since I’d had any kind of fatherly approval. There was a definite sense of pride in my chest, but it was masked by a slick coating of awkwardness.
“So…” I said slowly. “Did I complete the task?”
“Oh!” Wilhelm remarked, setting down the ore and turning to face me. “You sure did!”
He extended a hand, and as I took it, I heard two sounds. The first was a rapid succession of deep drums, and a large set of white letters flashed in my vision.
Task Complete!
I opened my character sheet to see a pool of 1,500 unassigned Quintessence.
“How’s about that?” Wilhelm remarked, letting go of my hand and continuing to load up the cart.
“That’ll do!” I replied happily, quickly tossed another 3 into Strength, 2 into Viletaint, and another 2 into Vitality.
Rand—Level 4
Vitality: 13 HP = 327
Toughness: 5
Strength: 16
Skill: 5
Viletaint: 10
Intellect: 5
Finally, my health was approaching what the rest of the other classes began with, and I was about a third of the way to Level 5—still no sign of being able to learn new skills.
“Hey, Wilhelm,” I asked as he loaded up the last of his boxes. “New skills. They exist, right?”
“Sure do,” he chuckled. “You just gotta get a bit stronger before you learn ‘em.”
“Ah.” I nodded. So there were new abilities, just not yet. “Any idea when?”
“I’d say you’re getting pretty close.” He smiled. “Now come on, let’s get back to the Hills.”
There was a place for two riders to sit at the head of the cart, and I slid in beside Wilhelm’s enormity that took up almost the entire bench. I felt miniscule next to him. He snapped the reins and the mule began to walk.
“Maybe we run into some trouble on the way back,” Wilhelm said as he steered the beast on through the woods.
“I can handle it,” I assured him as the cart groaned forward, its wooden wheels providing no comfort or cushion against the bumpy ground. I saw torches in the distance—more groups of Corrupted Villagers, I suspected—but ignored them. There’d be time for hunting after we got Wilhelm back to town.
“Can you upgrade my axe?” I asked him.
“Wouldn’t be much of a smith if I couldn’t!” he laughed. “If you bring me the right materials.”
“And those would be?”
“Scourge Steel. As much of it as you can find.”
“Where do I find that?” I asked. “Mining or something?”
“Nah, none of that boring nonsense,” he replied, waving a hand. “Dogs drop ‘em sometimes. Vill
agers very rarely. Butchers.”
“Butchers?”
“You ain’t seen the butchers?” he said with surprise. “You lucked out. Mean bastards, those are.”
“At least I don’t have to mine it.” I shrugged. Personally, I despised those elements of some MMOs. Why would I want to log into an incredible virtual world only to spend my time swinging a pickaxe or tanning leather I’d got from killing fields full of cows or something boring like that?
“Bring me a chunk of Scourge Steel,” he continued. “And I’ll get that axe of yours singing a sweet tune!”
We continued on toward town, but it was a slow journey as the cart couldn’t go where a man could. Every fallen tree and large stone was an obstacle, and I guessed the ride was taking us at least four times as long as it would have if I was on foot.
A Corrupted Villager tried to ambush us, but as I was sitting in the cart, I had the high ground, and easily dispatched him with a few casual blows. One-on-one the twisted men were no match for me anymore. I wondered how I’d fare against the Midwife.
“I feel like we should be back by now,” I remarked as the wagon shivered over a patch of particularly uneven ground.
“Young men,” Wilhelm said. “Always in a hurry. What’s the rush, boy?”
“My friend—she’s missing,” I replied. “And I need to find her.”
“Missing, eh?”
“Something…possessed her,” I replied softly. “She attacked people in town then ran away.”
“Sounds a lot like the Weeping Hills plague,” he mused.
“No,” I replied. “This is something different.”
“Well, the good news is we’re here,” he announced as the wagon thumped over a large branch and broke through the line of trees. I never thought it would feel so satisfying to return to such a dismal looking town, but when the cluster of weathered cottages came into view, I breathed a sigh of relief.
A few players were huddled about the lamppost and turned as we came rumbling toward them. I saw Jacob, now level 3, cross his arms and head in our direction. I let out a heavy sigh that Wilhelm noticed.
“Someone you’re not happy to see?”
“I dunno,” I replied. “He’s been trying to be pals with me since I arrived.”
“And you don’t like pals?”
“I—I don’t trust them,” I admitted. I guess I hadn’t fully understood why I’d been so resistant to Jacob in the first place, but Wilhelm’s question had helped me realize the truth.
“You said you had friends though?”
“One,” I replied. “I had more, but…”
I felt Wilhelm’s eyes on me, and part of me felt embarrassed—judged. Was I just being a baby by keeping people at arm’s length? And how long could it last? I didn’t want to go through my entire life worrying whether every new friend I made was eventually going to screw me over. But then again, with the exception of Rey, I had no evidence that would cause me to think otherwise.
“Take it from me, kid,” Wilhelm said. “I’ve seen what happens when the world goes to Hell. Take any chance you can at keeping things together.”
“Rand!” Jacob called out as the Smith stopped the cart just outside of town. “Who’s this?”
“Wilhelm, this is Jacob,” I replied. “Jacob, this is Wilhelm, the Smith.”
“Pleased to meetcha,” Wilhelm growled. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go reclaim my old shop. When you see the smoke out the chimney, you’ll know I’m ready for ya.”
“Wilhelm!” a voice hissed from the shadows. It was Alastor, who I was barely able to spy through the shadows as he floated in his strange bath. “Wilhelm, welcome back!”
“Aye there, Alastor,” Wilhelm replied as he tugged open the back gate of the cart and hoisted a set of steel bars onto his shoulders. “How’s the water?”
“The boy!” Alastor cried out. “I sent the boy to find you! What a wondrous will he has, would you agree?”
“You sure talk fancy, Alastor,” Wilhelm replied, heading toward the smallest of the huts with his load. “We’ll chat later.”
The Smithy nodded to me before he walked off, and I was left standing awkwardly with Jacob. I wasn’t sure what to say, so I just kind of looked at him. Finally, I came up with something.
“Level 3, huh?”
“Yeah, level 3,” he replied quickly. “Level 4?”
“Yeah, level 4.”
We both nodded. Thankfully, our silence was interrupted by Alastor’s hushed voice. “Young Seeker! Come hither, come hither!”
“Hang on a sec,” I told him as I made my way into the shadows where Alastor was basking in his tub. Jacob followed slowly behind me.
“You did it, you did it!” Alastor exclaimed, a crooked, mutated smile on his strange face. “And I have a gift for you!”
The feeble, miniature man clutched the side of his bath and reached out a pallid hand. In his palm lay a strange piece of rock, about the size of a lime. It was jagged and the color of dead grass. Some of its edges shone, reflecting the light of the moon. I took it from him and checked my inventory.
Scourge Steel Chunk—Used to increase weapon damage. The origin of Scourge Steel is unknown. Some say it was formed by the corpses of the Great Ones, compounded beneath the earth for thousands of years.
“What’s this?” I asked. I mean—I knew what it was, but the item description didn’t give me much to go on, other than some intriguing lore.
“Scourge Steel, that is!” Alastor cackled as he let go of the tub and splashed back into the water, or wine, or whatever it was. “Wilhelm will know what to do with that! Expensive, those are! But never say that the most regal Alastor Cook was not a generous man!”
“Or a man in general,” Jacob whispered in my ear. I couldn’t help but laugh.
“What did you say?!” Alastor snapped.
“Nothing, nothing,” Jacob replied, shaking his head.
“Thanks, Alastor,” I replied, turning away.
“Care for some wares, young Seekers?!” he cried out. “I am the Blood Merchant of this town, do not forget!”
“Spent all mine,” Jacob replied.
“I’m kind of low myself,” I said, but I was still curious about some of the things I’d seen last time I was here. “But, let me see what you’ve got again…”
“Of course, of course, young Seeker!” Alastor laughed back enthusiastically. As I approached, a trade window appeared. I went down the list of items again and found something I could afford.
200 Firebomb
I selected it and watched as 200 of my Quintessence disappeared from my stack. Alastor licked his lips as I dragged the Firebomb into my inventory.
Firebomb—Firebomb that explodes on impact, dealing massive damage.
“Only a few more of those left!” Alastor said quickly. “Scoop them up while you have the chance.”
“Thanks, Alastor,” I replied. As I turned and walked away, I could have sworn I heard the sounds of eating from the tub.
“Where’d you find that cloak?” Jacob asked as we made our way to the town square. I saw Wilhelm was still loading up his workshop, which meant it would be a few minutes before I could visit him for the upgrade. “And where’d you find the Smithy?”
“Met an old Seeker in the woods,” I told him. “Rathborne. Went through some kind of…trial. I passed and he gave me this.”
“Looks badass,” Jacob said with admiration. I tried not to smile, but he was right. It was awesome.
“Know what’s even more badass?” I asked him, backing up and taking a combat stance in front of him. I saw a flicker of concern in his eyes as he tried to figure out if I was going to really attack him or not. “This!”
I Shadowstepped and watched his eyes go wide as I swept through him. He spun around as I solidified, but I already had the blade of my axe at his throat. I heard the sharp intake of breath as the steel touched his skin. Then, I burst out laughing.
“Don’t worry, Jacob. I’m just
messing with you.”
Jacob’s face collapsed with relief and he took a step back. “Damn, man! You scared the bejesus out of me!”
“Pretty sweet, right?”
“Uh, yeah! More like awesome.”
“Rathborne gave me that,” I explained. “And the Smithy was hiding out in a cave in the woods. I had to get the mule and cart for him, but got jumped by some dickhead after I saved him from two groups of Corrupted Villagers.”
“Was his name Dorrin?” Jacob asked.
“Yes!” I exclaimed. “How did you know?”
“Dorrin the Dickhead.” He smiled. “That’s what we’ve been calling him. He respawned at the lamppost a few minutes ago, completely naked besides his sword, and then ran off into the woods.”
“He’s been attacking other players?”
“Not so much attacking,” Jacob clarified. “As…ambushing and backstabbing?”
“That’s exactly what he did to me. I saved him from all these guys and then he tried to stab me in the back when it was all over. I saw it coming though—riposted him and finished him off—then I took his pants.”
Jacob burst out laughing and swatted his thigh with a palm. “That’s great! Ah, I hope he runs through here again with his pants missing.”
An angry voice rang out from the town square, and both of us turned to look. An angry Seeker with a Winchester was waving his fist furiously in the air.
“So, why can’t we log out then?!” he cried. “I’ve got three kids at home and their mom’s away on work!”
“Hey, don’t lecture me, buddy!” someone else shouted back. “I’ve got a huge paper due tomorrow that’s worth twenty-five-% of my grade!”
“What do you think?” Jacob asked, turning to me.
“What—about not being able to log out?”
“About everything,” he replied. “That, the Bloodless…”
“I don’t know,” I confessed. For a moment there, I’d been able to forget about the reality of our situation and just focus on what had been in front of me. But returning to town, talking to Jacob, had brought it all back up again and I felt my anxiety begin to rise.
The Monolith Page 12
