by Jason Cheek
“I’ll let her know. May the Dark protect you, milord.” Klaern solemnly replied as the three NPC guards standing next to him briefly bowed their heads at the words in reverence. I had to consciously stop my mouth from dropping open at the unusual comment. Well, unusual for me but not for House of Kayden whose people practiced Dark magic. In most video games you’d hear praise given to the Light, but never the Dark. Besides, I had to say for an infiltration mission it sure made a hell of a lot more sense. With a final nod of farewell, I headed out into the blowing wind with Neysa darting ahead as I called out for her to keep close.
The entire sky was a swirling gray. Already the wind had picked up and was blowing in icy sheets across the frozen meadow. The icy sleet wasn’t dangerous, just heavy enough to be to be miserable as it seeped into my clothing. Once I made my way into the treeline, I’d be protected from the worst of the storm. At least for now. The mountains would be another story altogether. Pulling up my map, I grimaced at what lay before me. Basically, in about five miles, everything north, south and east turned into mountainous terrain.
The map I’d gotten from Delonshire didn’t show any specifics about the height or passes. The mountain range was part of the pass that opened up to the northern plains that lead to the lands of the monster humanoid tribes. Supposedly Nren Unarith was a massive fortress for the region far to the north, but there was no way the forces there could hope to guard the entrance to every pass that led into the Light Elves lands. No matter what the High priest in Amyalneas preached, if BrokenFang were left in the hands of the humanoid tribes the whole region would be open to the invaders.
If this were a major push by the northern humanoid tribes to invade the region, then this would be the best time to take back BrokenFang Hold. The Light Elves would be too busy fighting their racial enemies to bother with our small House. Besides, it would make more sense to leave us alone and let the invading tribes take care of us and then deal with what was left once the invaders were pushed back across the plains. Hopefully, that would give House of Kayden the time we needed to solidify our hold on the region. By the time any serious force was sent against us from the Light Elves, we’d be strong enough to protect our home from all comers.
A harsh bark of laughter came from my lips as I silently shook my head at my audacity. Look at me and my casual plans for dominating the region. It might sound like a ridiculously bold plan, but it was the only play I could see that held any chance of success. A plan that was entirely dependent on my ability to clear the invaders out of BrokenFang Hold, but it wasn’t like I had any other choice if I wanted to keep my NPCs and complete my Nightmare quest. I mean seriously, how bad could it be?
My thoughts turned to the task at hand once I entered the edge of the forest. Immediately, I broke into a slow jog as Neysa raced ahead. Frequently the Dire Wolf would turn around to see what was taking me so long as she danced impatiently from side-to-side until I came near and then she was off again. The ground was frozen with only a thin layer of slushy snow on top. As long as I didn’t try to stop too quickly, I had no problems with traction.
Surprisingly, I didn’t see any wildlife. No wolves, deer, foxes or rabbits. It was as if all of the animals had found a safe spot to hole up in for the coming storm. That fact alone, more than any other, made me nervous for the coming blizzard. Still, it didn’t change my decision. BrokenFang Hold was a good twenty miles away. Even with my superhuman strength from my P&E exam stats, it would take most of the day to reach the small fortress. If I didn’t run the recon now, there’d be no time later to scout out the situation.
The forest began petering out a short time later as the land started climbing into the mountains. My path went through shallow windswept valleys that looked more like slanting plateaus that made up the pass through the towering walls of rocky granite. The physical strain of running and the increasing elevation was taking its toll on my body as I was forced to slow down to a quick walk. Still, I pushed forward as the sleety wind slowly turned into a raging storm that raced over the rocks with a whistling howl as the visibility fell to as little as twenty or thirty yards at times. My hands and feet ached from the cold. My face felt like it was a piece of raw meat as I again questioned the need or desire for such realism in a game as I slogged through the deepening snow. Not that there was any sense in complaining, I was stuck at my 75% realism for the life of this character. Thankfully, Neysa stayed close and didn’t run too far ahead. Every hundred yards to so she’d race back to me and spring at my legs as if telling me to hurry it up.
In a way it was funny. All my life I’d grown up around Floridians who dreamed of snow and having a white Christmas, while never having experienced the icy joy in real life. Up until just recently, I’d been one of those daydreamers. Now after hours of being frozen half to death, I could truthfully say I never wanted to see the white crap ever in real life. I shook my head to clear the numbness from my thoughts as I eyed the approaching gap I was headed towards when a piercing shriek came over the wind from somewhere up ahead. As if a switch had been flipped, Neysa came to a stop growling as her hackles raised along her spine.
Immediately, I came to a stop kneeling next to Neysa, listening intently as my eyes scanned the ridge above. If not for the little Dire Wolf’s tense stance, I would have questioned if I’d even heard the sound over the blowing storm. My hands automatically checked both swords and my dagger to make sure they’d not frozen to their sheaths as I crept to Neysa’s side. My eyes searched through the blowing sleet as I spoke under my breath.
“What do you hear girl?”
I asked more for the sake of hearing my own voice than expecting an answer. The sound itself reminded me of a horror movie scream, but who would be out in the middle of a storm like this. For a second, I looked incredulously at the little wolf as she lightly nipped my cheek, before turning intently back towards the ridgeline as a cute little growl reverberated deep in her chest. I wanted to shrug off the warning as a puppy’s overactive imagination, but deep down in my bones, I knew something wasn’t right as I peered through the growing darkness and blowing snow.
We waited there unmoving for what felt like an hour but was probably only a minute or two, when I saw several shadows appear at the top of the ridgeline as the blowing sleet let-up somewhat. The shapes solidified a moment later into two Half-elf women running for their lives.
A young woman who was nearly dragging her older companion with an arm under the other woman’s shoulder. Both of their clothing was shredded and bloody, giving them the look of survivors from some terrible calamity. The look of absolute terror etched on their faces sent me sprinting up the knee-deep snow as Neysa began leaping through the deep drifts ahead of me like a hyperactive jackrabbit. They were still almost fifty yards away when a towering, humanoid creature crested the ridge behind them.
The monster had to be at least nine feet tall. Although man-shaped, I could clearly tell that it wasn’t Human or Elf. Whatever it was, it was layered in thick muscles with two knobby fangs that jutted over its upper lip. Its misshapen head held a mass of stringy corded hair, while its overly long arms hung below its knees as it loped through the snow ape-like. Even more disconcerting, it wore only a loincloth in the ice storm as its sole piece of clothing … that and what looked to be a massive two-handed sword strapped to its back. The only other visible weapons were three long, thick spears gripped in its meaty hands, one of which was cocked and ready to throw.
My stomach sank as I immediately recognized the creature as a troll. As if to confirm my guess, my interface lit up with blood-red letters over the mob’s head where the words ‘Xunuh'Ahjin of the Plague Spreaders, Level 35 Forest Troll’ appeared as my mind began running through everything I’d ever read or heard about in games and books on Trolls.
The information was extensive and conflicting. Games typically held Trolls in the same category as that of any other race with accelerated healing, while traditional folklore and legends from mythology stated that norma
l weapons could marginally injure the beasts and only intense fire could truly destroy them. Either way, I was fucked. This was an elite, named level 35 Troll that was probably the local mini-boss of the area and was the highest level mob I’d seen yet in the game.
Even worse, if this bad boy was shrugging off the blizzard pounding the mountain like it was nothing, then what the hell was my Frost magic going to do to it? Still, my Flurry spell was the strongest attack I had, and I could only hope that magic would affect the creature where the elements hadn’t. Mentally crossing my fingers for luck, I send a slew of icy blasts racing up the slope.
Streaking through the billowing snow my Flurry blasts shimmered with a bluish hue in the low light across the distance as the Troll drew back one of its spears over its bony shoulder. Even at the near limit of my spell’s range, my aim held true as the icy missiles slammed into the Trolls ugly face. Ignoring the magically sharp projectile like they were nothing, the creature threw its spear using its entire body as a fist suddenly clenched my heart.
The gusting winds whipping around the mountain in near hurricane force did nothing to alter the missile’s path as it flew unerringly towards the struggling pair. A gut-wrenching cry pierced the night as the spear punched through the back of the older Half-elf. The force of the impact lifted the poor woman off her feet and into her companion, sending both women tumbling to the ground.
Striding easily through the deep snow, the Troll closed the distance to the women in no time at all. Knocking the skewered woman aside with a backhand, the Troll yanked the younger woman into the air by her throat to leer into her face. As I ran all out to close the distance between us, I heard the creature’s guttural voice as I wrapped my fist around the great sword on my back.
“Puny huntrezz lie to Turok! Now Turok krak bonz!” The Troll roared in its broken common speak as I finally cleared the distance. Leaping into the air, I ripped the Greatsword of Corruption from my back with a rasp of metal as I swung the blade down with all my might.
“AAARRRGGG!”
The howl of pain that ripped from the Troll’s lips rang out across the slope like a peeling crack of thunder as the woman was thrown to the ground with the Troll’s flopping forearm painting the snow black with its spurting blood. Landing smoothly on my feet, I spun around used my body to bring the massive blade around in a wide sweeping arc. The Troll brought up its remaining arm still clutching its remaining two spears to block the strike as I threw my body to the side. Whipping the massive blade low and then high, I severed through the mob’s thick wrist. The unbalanced swing forced me to fall back against the Troll’s broad chest as it roared again in agony. In the blink of an eye, its oozing stump slammed into the back of my head, smashing me to ground.
The brutal blow left me reeling as my interface flashed with a debuff icon named Stunned that displayed a five-second timer. I felt like a whack-a-mole at a funhouse as I laid unmoving in the snow while the enraged Troll pummeled me relentlessly, every blow increasing my Stun counter by a tick. To my horror with each passing second, the Troll’s bleeding stumps began to morph, regrowing before my bloody eyes into newly formed flesh. As soon as the first clawed fist took shape, the Troll’s beating ended as it yanked my abused body into the air with a howl to bury its fanged maw deep into my shoulder. Ripping out a bloody chunk of meat, bone, and armor with a jerk of its head, the Troll flung my Stunned body down the slope as it threw its head back in a triumphant roar.
My battered body hit with a crunch almost twenty yards away with the Stun effect ending as soon as I flopped to a stop. Thankfully, the mauling had given me the time I needed to recover from the Stun as I scrambled onto my hands and knees. Even though I’d cast both of my shields, my shoulder hurt like nothing I’d ever felt before and my Hit Points were down by a third.
From up the slope, I heard Neysa’s vicious growls as she danced around the Troll’s clawed feet, snapping at the beast for all she was worth. Pulling my thoughts together, I managed to cast a Holy Shield on the little wolf before focusing on my own injuries. While I worried about Neysa being outright killed, none of us were going to survive this if I couldn’t get back into the fight.
I was hurt bad. My left arm was nearly useless. The muscles and tendons had been nearly chomped all the way through. The thought itself turned me a little green. Although it wasn’t the first time some creature in a game had taken a bite out of me, it had never felt anything as visceral as this. If I didn’t win this fight, the Troll was going to eat my face off while I was still alive.
The realization hit me like a cold bucket of water and settled my nerves. What I needed was the use of both arms, or this was over before it had begun. There wasn’t much I could do in the limited amount of time I had. The adrenaline pumping through my veins was the only thing keeping me moving as I let my Greatsword slide into the snow in front of me, focusing solely on what needed to be done.
Slipping three Minor Health potions from my belt, I popped the caps and downed them as one without a second thought. Although the potions wouldn’t heal the shattered bone of my shoulder, the healing potions would help everything else. While my Minor Mend Bones spell usually was considered a two-handed cast, it could theoretically be cast with only one. Ignoring the women’s screaming cries, Neysa’s growling barks, and the Troll’s enraged roars, I focused on making my hands form the necessary movements needed for my Minor Mend Bones spell.
The spell was normally a 10-second cast, which alone was forever in a battle. Being forced to use only one arm changed the spell into a 15-second cast. A part of me wanted to scream as I went through the difficult motions while eyeing the time ticking by. It felt like watching the virus upload into the alien mothership from the movie Independence Day. I heard Neysa’s pain-filled yipe as the Troll finally managed to catch the small Dire Wolf with a backhand that sent my girl careening down the mountain. A part of me raged at seeing my beast companion so injured, but I couldn’t stop what I was doing, or her sacrifice would be in vain. I heard the growl of outrage as the Troll saw the golden glow surrounding my hands.
Immediately, the beast began loping down the slope after me as I watched emotionlessly while my hand continued going through the intricate motions required for casting the spell. The seconds ticked down as the Troll reared up before me moving like a speeding locomotive. The savage monster lunged just as my healing spell completed. Instantly muscle and sinews appeared as if by magic as my shoulder was mended completely in a flash of golden light. Without wasting a second, I snatched up my two-handed blade and threw myself out of the path of the lumbering creature as its massive body crashed through the spot I’d been kneeling a second earlier.
Rolling to my feet, I brought the Greatsword up to rest against my shoulder as the Troll whipped around faster than anything that size should be able to move. The physics of mass and velocity added on top of the fact the lumbering Troll was moving downhill should have made the sudden, twisting stop impossible to accomplish in the real world.
Watching unbelievably as the Troll recovered in the blink of an eye reminded me once again not to confuse the real world with this gaming world. It was like watching the Goblin from earlier in the Delonshire Mine continue fighting with a sword sticking through its head. I shoved the useless thoughts aside as I readied myself to fight.
“Hafling hurt Turok!” The Troll snarled at me with a guttural shout in its broken common speak. “Turok krak hafling bonz!”
As if to emphasize its meaning, the muscular creature wrenched the two-handed blade from its back. The huge weapon looked more like a dagger in the creature’s oversized hands. The blade itself was pitch black like the darkest night, and, as soon as weapon cleared its sheath, I felt a wave of weakness wash over my body. It felt like a heavy blanket had been sudden cast over me, but it was more than even that. I felt slower, weaker … and if even possible, duller mentally. There was a part of me that wanted to turn around and run for my life from the pulsing black blade. Uncontrollably, I collaps
ed to my knees in the snow as the Greatsword of Corruption fell from my numb hands while my mind struggled to fathom what was happening.
“U fight SoulBreaker now, puny hafling.” The gloating Troll said, sneering down at me as if I were nothing but a weakling. “Turok ur master now.”
Instead of feeling my almost super-human strength that I’d felt since starting in the game, I was almost a normal human once again. A glance at my HUD told the story. A new icon with the flashing red name of Blight was in effect, which gave a minus 50% to all enemy attributes in a 10-yard radius. The special attack must be directly related to my reduced stats. My Spirit and Charisma were the only two stats below 50 with the active debuff. Since I couldn’t see Charisma effecting me like this, it could only be Spirit. It must be the stat that acted like Wisdom in other games for mental attacks.
Praying that my assumption was right, I hurriedly called up my Character sheet. I’d hardly put anything into Spirit since the start of the game, figuring the stat only made a difference in the speed my character recovered Mana and Hit Points in-between battles. Quickly, I dumped 20 of my unused 49 stat points into my Spirit bringing it up to 109 points, 104 if I didn’t count my armor bonuses, and hit apply. Instantly the psychic pressure assaulting my mind lessened to a tolerable level as I once again felt control over my body.
My lips split into a nasty grin. Like hell I was going to let this ugly mother fucker beat me. My limbs felt like jelly as I gathered my flagging willpower into a ragged ball of rage deep inside my chest. Unconsciously, my hands scrabbled in the snow until they found the Greatsword of Corruption’s hilt. Even with the extra 20 points, I’d dropped in my Spirit stat, moving my body was a struggle. It was tempting to drop the remaining 29 points into my Spirit to make this overwhelming psychic pressure go away, but I refused to blow the rest of my unused stat points for a one time attack. Crying out in a wordless shout, my hands gripped the leather wrapped metal as I found my inner strength. Raising my head in defiance, I climbed to my feet as the Troll looked at me dumbfounded.
