He shook his head. Well, if she did like him, it wasn’t for his play skills anyway.
Rolling his shoulders, he adjusted his grip on his Practice Short Sword and headed for the trainers.
Aravon was surrounded by a small group of men and women who were listening raptly to the man’s instructions. He held a wooden replica of a sword in one hand while keeping the other arm up to guard. The trainer struck at the air in slow motion as he explained a particular style of attack. Which made Emerson wonder why he hadn’t received any pointers. Because he’d been the noob guinea pig? The trainers’ first victim?
When Aravon spotted him, he nodded at the players and lifted a hand to ask for patience. Emerson blinked in surprise as the trainer detached from the group and approached, a surprisingly grave look on his face.
“Hail, Valious,” he said.
“Uh…hail?”
The man nodded. “I hear you did good work with the pests plaguing our gates.”
Quest completed: Eradicate the Vermin
You receive 5000 experience.
Congratulations! You have reached level 4!
Emerson jumped, startled yet again by the chime that seemed to come from everywhere at once.
“I—well, I was glad to be of help.”
The trainer nodded, face growing grimmer still. “But I’m afraid your next tasks won’t be so pleasant.”
Wait. Emerson wouldn’t really have called the first task pleasant. Exciting, sure. He’d never experienced the sensation of mortal combat, fighting with the real risk of death. In hindsight, bloodlust had gotten the better of him, and that had felt pleasurable at the time. Still, it was the business of killing, hardly something to be described in such terms.
“I do want to improve,” he said. “So whatever the challenge, I’ll do my best to overcome it.”
Aravon’s brow knit. “Yes, I’m sure you will. Despite your inexperience, my instincts say that you will be critical to our mission here. It’s a notion I can’t quite explain, to be frank.”
Oh? So maybe he wasn’t so inept after all. Or maybe the trainers said this kind of stuff to everyone.
Aravon was twirling the wooden sword almost absently, eyes distant, the wooden thing quite honestly making Emerson wonder why his weapon was called a Practice Short Sword. After a moment, he sucked his teeth.
“Yeah, I just can’t put words to it. A gut feeling, I suppose. But whatever the cause, I hope you’ll take me seriously when I say that we’ll need you in the days ahead and that you must apply yourself.”
Okay, so now the guy was belaboring the point a bit. “And like I said, I’m ready for whichever task you feel I must accomplish.”
Aravon looked down at him solemnly. Which reminded Emerson…hadn’t he explicitly made his character tall? Did he have to go up in levels to reach his full stature or something?
Aravon is offering you a quest: Cannon Fodder Training
Within the fortnight, a demonic tide will wash over the land. Those who can fight will pay in blood to defend the realm from the darkness. For most, this penalty will be severe, resulting in permanent death or the loss of items held most dear.
But for a select few, those not yet experienced in the art of war, death is merely a trip to the spawn point.
You have the power to slow the tide. Practice it well.
Objective: Die
Reward: 3000 experience
Accept? Y/N
Chapter Twenty-Three
THE FIRST TIME the traveler had brought Illumin to the world, it had been an accident, or at the very least, a surprise. There had been an ant on the trail, three of its legs broken and dragging. Tortured by the sight, he’d crouched and cupped his hands in a circle around it as if he could shelter the creature from pain.
And then, a portion of the pattern had leapt forward in his mind. He couldn’t fathom the layers and layers that made up creation, but he found he could grasp small portions and, much as in the way that choices alter the stream of future possibilities, he could twist the fibers and create a reality where the ant didn’t suffer.
A spark of light had smote the ant, ending the creature’s misery.
The traveler had walked on.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“HEY, DEVON!”
The call came from on the track behind Devon and Chen as they hiked toward Ishildar. Devon turned and was forced to squint against the sunlight glaring off a suit of ridiculously over-polished armor.
She shielded her eyes. “Hi, Torald.”
As the paladin, a player from the nearby camp who had become one of her few non-NPC friends, broke into a jog to catch up with them, she found herself actually smiling. It had been quite a few days since they’d run into each other.
“Have a good holiday, you guys?” Torald asked when he reached the pair.
Devon shrugged. “More or less. You?”
Torald blinked as if abruptly unsure what to say. “Yeah, I suppose. Completed my specialization quest.”
“Wait, what? Specialization?” Devon and Chen said together.
Torald stood straighter. “You’re looking at a freshly minted Veian Crusader. Here and forevermore, my sword is promised to Veia’s service, my shield to her defense, and my soul to her blessings.”
What did that even mean, promising a soul to someone else’s blessings? Sometimes Torald just plain tried too hard.
“Back up,” Devon said. “Where did you find a trainer? I haven’t gained a Sorcerer spell since level 20 when I outgrew Hezbek’s training.”
Chen shook his head. “Don’t even start, Devon. Before your new class trainers showed up, the last time I’d been able to learn anything new was when Hailey and I passed through Eltera City on the way here.”
Devon grimaced. Okay, that was worse than her situation.
“So?” she said to Torald. “Cough it up. How’d you get a specialization quest?”
Torald shrugged and showed his palms. “Honestly, I have you to thank for bringing Shavari to Stonehaven. According to her, paladins from Eltera City used to make a pilgrimage all the way to her former temple to pursue the Crusader spec. So it was just good luck. The other pallies in the camp are starting the quest now, seeing as the other specs would require long journeys—apparently there’s a Divine Shield specialization that required a month of overland travel from Eltera, ending in the Glass Mountains. So from here, that’s at least five weeks of walking.”
While he spoke, Devon pulled open her character sheet.
Character: Devon (click to set a different character name)
Level: 24
Base Class: Sorcerer
Specialization: Unassigned
Unique Class: Deceiver
Health: 412/412
Mana: 611/611
Fatigue: 26%
Attributes:
Constitution: 28 (+6 Stonehaven Jerkin)
Strength: 17
Agility: 21 (+4 Gloves of Deceit)
Charisma: 46 (+4 Big Girl Pants)
Intelligence: 29
Focus: 17 (+1 Gloves of Deceit)
Endurance: 27 (+1 Big Girl Pants)
Unspent Attribute Points: 8
Special Attributes:
Bravery: 10 (+3 Stonehaven Jerkin)
Cunning: 7
Dignity: -1
Additional:
10% Speed
Specialization: Unassigned. She’d become so used to seeing that, she’d pretty much forgotten about it. But now, knowing that Torald’s character sheet had that item filled in, she couldn’t help feeling a strong wave of gamer envy. Yeah, she had a unique class, as did Chen—his ability as a Tinker shown off by the little golem made of sticks and twine that often hung out on his shoulder. But still…if she weren’t wrapped up in this Champion of Ishildar stuff, she would probably be off in some Sorcerers’ sanctum learning what she needed to do to complete her class choices.
Or maybe she’d
be training under some specialist Deceiver. Huh…now that she thought about it, how was specialization going to work when she had two base classes?
Anyway, she couldn’t let her envy distract her from the mission. Having spotted Chen shortly after logging in, she’d convinced him to come with her to investigate a route through the ancient city. When she and Hazel had been turned back by the Stone Guardians, Devon had been able to buy them time to escape by using the Greenscale Pendant. The necklace granted her the power to influence the massive mobs through the Ishildar’s Call ability, but she’d only had three relics at the time, so the Call was weak. She was hoping the addition of the Ironweight Key would help her cause.
“Hey, we’re going to check out Ishildar. I need to find a way through to get the final relic. Join us?”
When she sent him a group invite, Torald dropped to a knee, head bowed. “Of course, lady. ‘Tis the reason I came. As you know, I am pledged to Veia, but it is her command that I serve you in this quest.”
Devon blinked down at him. Even Chen, not known for his social skills, didn’t seem to know what to do with the sudden switch to role-playing. Sure, the game had pushed Torald in that direction by forcing the Paladin class to role play to activate their abilities, but Torald took it many steps further. After an awkward moment of silence, Devon touched the paladin’s shoulder. “Uh, I welcome your service, Crusader.”
The man looked up at her with a grin. “I’ll make a genuine RPer out of you yet, even if it takes me driving out to Utah and dragging you out to some live events.”
Devon felt the blush in her cheeks as Chen’s stick golem—for no reason that Devon understood, Chen had named the little creation Sigfried—jumped onto the road between her and the paladin. The obnoxious thing managed to compose its wooden mouth into a kissy face, then swooned and fell over.
Devon shot Chen a glare, but the knight just shrugged. “You know I don’t control him.”
“Yeah, not precisely. But he acts based on your thoughts, jerk.” Back in the Fortress of Shadows, the party had used the little guy to get past a set of immortal frogmen. The guards had only reacted to human—or in Chen’s case, half-elf—presences, but Sigfried had been able to just waltz past and grab the Blackbone Effigy, freeing the guards from their eternal service.
Torald cleared his throat, his face as red as hers felt. “Anyway, on to Ishildar?”
Devon nodded. “Please.”
***
When the small party drew near the city, they were forced to leave the wagon track where it veered toward the Argenthal mines. For the first half-mile or so after that, grasslands still dominated the terrain, and Devon ran her hands over the seed heads as she walked. Occasionally, Bob muttered a complaint about her relative ineptitude in some task or another. She ignored it, taking too much pleasure in the sunlight and human company.
“Hey, so I see you got some new gear,” Torald said, startling her out of her reverie.
“Yeah, and by the way, thank you for not commenting on my backpack,” she said.
“I think that’s because the only proper thing to say regarding that is ‘No comment,’” Chen added helpfully.
“Jerk.”
Torald laughed at their banter, then nodded at her weapon hand. Since she didn’t yet have a sheath and belt for quick access, Devon felt better carrying her blade than walking around with it stuffed in her backpack.
“The dagger’s especially nice,” the paladin said, then grimaced. “I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of incurable necrosis.”
Devon was confused until she remembered that, like just about every other game she’d experienced, other players could inspect her gear. Sometimes the realism in Relic Online still got to her, making her forget much of what she’d learned in her long gaming career. Her deep involvement in the world, especially since she wasn’t very connected to the player population, made her forget some of the convenience mechanics in the game design. Given her own noobish blunders, maybe she shouldn’t be giving people like Valious such a hard time—even if it was just in the privacy of her own mind.
“Yeah, so there’s a weird story about it.” She went on to explain how the blade had been fashioned by mysterious hands, and how the creepy Mistwalker boss had seemed to know more about it than anyone in Stonehaven. In the days since she returned from the dungeon, she’d asked around, even sucking it up and talking to Greel about his knowledge regarding the Mistwalkers, in particular, the Drivan and Rovan factions.
That had been a waste of time. The lawyer hadn’t known anything, but he had taken the opportunity to explain what a liability she was to the settlement for having not yet delivered her notarized response to his town charter proposal. At this point, she was tempted to leave him stewing until after her attempted run to the Stone Forest. She seriously doubted he would make good on any threat to “file” the papers without her approval, and even if he did, she was pretty sure she could override him.
“I think I know,” Torald said.
“Huh?” Devon had already started to lose herself in contemplation of ways to torment Greel, and it took a moment for the man’s words to register. “Sorry, say that again? You think you know what?
“Some information about the Mistwalkers,” the man said. “I read a history recently.”
“Read? Where?”
The man shrugged, his platemail squeaking despite the care he obviously took with it. “Eltera City has a library. Well, maybe not anymore. Seems like a good target for demon destruction. Anyway, before answering Hailey’s call to defend your settlement, I used to spend quite a lot of time in there. This game has a ton of lore that hasn’t made it into the quest lines. At least not into the quests I’ve done.”
“Wait, so instead of questing and leveling, you were at the in-game library?” Chen asked. He shot Devon an amused glance, but Devon, having known Torald for a while, wasn’t that surprised.
Torald turned and started walking backward through the grass to keep eye contact with her and Chen. “Okay, so I’ll be the first to admit I take the game world pretty seriously.” He gave a self-effacing smirk that Devon found somewhat endearing. It reminded her, in a way, of the shyness that came out when Emerson talked about his AI project and his hopes for Veia.
Of course, thinking of that reminded her about the recent revelation that Emerson sorta kinda liked her liked her. It had been so long since Devon was in that kind of social situation but she really had no idea how to proceed. To cover the awkwardness when Dorden had suggested Emerson ask Devon on a date, Emerson had claimed he was going to log in so they could just play together. No romance attached. Anyway, she hadn’t heard from him in a while. He’d probably been busy with family over the holidays.
“But in this case, I had a good reason,” Torald went on. “You know how paladin spells work, right? We have to act the part. I figured the more I knew about the world, the better my battle cries and buffs would be.”
Devon tried to keep a straight face. Chen hadn’t had the privilege of grouping with Torald yet, and he was in for something of a surprise when the paladin let loose with his over-the-top RP.
“But instead of battle cry fodder, you found something about the Mistwalkers? I’m surprised you remembered. Hasn’t it been something like two months since you left Eltera City?”
Torald nodded. “Two months and three days real-world time. But actually, I read about the Mistwalkers more recently.”
“How?”
He looked sideways and cringed a little. “Well, when I left Eltera City, I expected to be back in a couple of days. And since I have a lot of bag space”—he patted his Manpurse of Holding—“I figured it would be okay to bring a couple of books with me. Something to do while waiting for spawns or whatever. Anyway, they’re rather overdue now.”
“You can actually check out library books in this game?” Chen asked.
The paladin nodded. “Yeah, but the fees are kinda outrageous. At this p
oint, unless the demons have destroyed the library, I owe three gold and two silver.”
Devon jumped when Bob abruptly piped up. “A librarian after my own heart,” the wisp said. “At least someone in the material plane recognizes the value of information.”
She ignored him and kept her focus on Torald. “All right, so you read something about the Mistwalkers.”
Torald nodded. “And I perked up because we recently got a quest update that said you’d recovered the Ironweight Key from their lost vassaldom.”
Devon contained a cringe at the reminder that every player in the camp was on a quest to help her cause and become her subject once she restored Ishildar. “Anything useful?”
“Well,” he said, “maybe. The author of the book claimed that there was a schism in the final days of the Esh vassaldom when a delegation was sent to the Veian temple to deliver the Key. As I remember, the Rovan believed the relic should either sink with the vassaldom or remain with the survivors wherever they might flee.”
“Which was apparently not far, seeing as I ran into one under the savanna.”
Torald smirked. “Actually, I think their presence here may be new. At least at the time of the writing of my borrowed book, the Esh had fled far inland. In addition to their worship of Veia, they had a strong shamanic tradition that drew meaning from the natural world. They felt that the water spirits had become angry with them, leading to the inundation of their home. Of course, the book also speculated that the inland environs didn’t suit them and that the race eventually died out.”
Devon’s steps had slowed while he talked. “You said shamans, right?”
Vault of the Magi: A LitRPG Adventure (Stonehaven League Book 5) Page 15
