by Cid Banks
Many of the structures had similar signs: a shirt and boots, an open book, a neatly made bed, and a suit of armor. The shop that caught my eye displayed a pair of crossed swords.
My lute wasn’t enough to survive this world.
As I entered the weapon shop, a homely woman at the counter smiled. “Welcome, dear.”
“Thanks.”
Behind her, a blacksmith stoked his furnace and barked at his apprentice. As the vendor gestured at her available gear, a UI prompt floated. I half listened to her, reading the list of weapons and tools.
Daggers, swords, longswords, bows, arrows, staves, hammers, shovels, picks.
The shop’s inventory was extensive, but most were a dull red, which meant I couldn’t use them. Only a few were blue. A lack of money wasn’t the issue. They were forbidden to me because I was a bard.
Goddamn it. “How much for this lute?”
“Hmm. I can do one gold for that.”
“Not worth it.” I purchased two cheap daggers, even though melee combat had done little for me when I fought the boglins. The smart choice would be a ranged weapon. If I could’ve defeated enemies from a distance, I might’ve stood a chance. Only two ranged weapons were available for bards. As I studied them, the UI morphed into a comparison box.
Simple Shortbow
Level 1 Bow
Damage: 6–12
Ranged, Fast Reload, Two-Handed
Cost: 15 gold
Light Crossbow
Level 1 Bow
Damage: 8–16
Ranged
Cost: 20 gold
The crossbow dealt more damage, but it was more expensive. 20 gold was a substantial investment, more than half my net worth. The merchant didn’t mind as I agonized over how to spend my gold. Shopping at the grocery store was never this complicated, unless I wanted dessert. The biggest obstacle I faced was deciding between chocolate mousse and raspberry-peach pie. God, I might never eat pie again.
I needed to pick another weapon. Choosing the right one was paramount. It was life and death.
I bought the crossbow. Its damage potential was higher than the short bow. I’d need every point I could get my hands on.
The vendor took 20 gold for the weapon plus an additional 2 gold for 20 ammunition bolts. My corner health indicator popped with an Inventory notice. I wasn’t sure if the game tracked my politeness, so I thanked the woman before leaving, just in case.
I slumped on a decrepit bench and thought of my next move. My rogue outfit included belts where I tucked my daggers. I used it to hang my new crossbow. My inventory was light, but I felt better now that I was armed. Everything would be fine.
My attention rotated to the leveling up screen. I had been too tired to bother with it last night, so I sat in the mid-morning shade and opened my character menu. It pulsed with a golden aura.
Level Up! You have reached Level 2!
HP+2 Charisma +1
Add one point to the attribute of your choosing!
(May not boost the same attribute as previous level)
New basic song available!
That was straightforward. Instinct screamed for me to increase my strength, but Naomi said I was stuck here forever. If she was right, these stats would define me for the rest of my life, and 2 was an abysmally low score. Bards weren’t supposed to be physical warriors. Paladins and warriors wielded high strength values, but I couldn’t equip heavy weapons or armor anyway. Building my strength might be a waste. And if I sprinkled every attribute with points, I’d never excel at anything. Maybe instead I should focus on what I did well.
What could a bard do?
Bards mix a rogue’s charm with a wizard’s magic. I could dabble in both fields. Learning to steal and sneak would keep me out of fights, and magical powers would help when trouble couldn’t be avoided.
I focused on the Reflex attribute to learn more.
Reflex
How skilled a character is at evading attacks and striking with accuracy is measured by Reflex. A Character with high Reflex will be more acrobatic and graceful when moving. Characters use Reflex when calculating the accuracy of attacks, especially with ranged and skill-based weapons. A character with low Reflex is considered to be slow and clumsy.
I chose Reflex, and my stats jumped to a 5.
James
Level 2 Bard
HP: 18/18
Experience: 65 Level Goal: 180
Strength: 2 Reflex: 5 Willpower: 4 Charisma: 7
Traits: none
Abilities: Song of Mocking (new basic song available)
Spells: none
Gold: 11
A second prompt jumped into view.
Learn any basic song:
Song of Sorrow - This mournful melody strikes listeners with a deep and profound sadness.
Inflicts Despair on characters.
Song of Seduction - This romantic ballad inspires lustful thoughts in those who hear it.
Greatly increases romantic relationship with attracted characters.
Chance to successfully Seduce +100%
Song of Rest - This soothing serenade brings peace and rest to those who hear it.
Restores character’s HP over time, removes Rage, Silent, and Confuse.
Chance to inflict Sleep +100%
Honestly, I wasn’t keen on running headlong into battle. If I had to spend more time in this game, I’d rather do something I enjoyed.
An image of Naomi spilling from her dress burned in my head. I didn’t need a song to win her over, but maybe I could hook up with a hot NPC.
Krile.
She’d been all over me last night, and she was cute. I could take her to the inn where we’d have privacy, and see where that took us. Getting laid would be an excellent distraction. If I only had a few days left, why not?
The UI slowly shimmered, awaiting my decision.
What the hell, I’ll do it. I chose Song of Seduction.
I opened my map to get the lay of the land. With a pinch of my fingers, I zoomed into the sprawl of the winding roads. The town was illustrated in great detail. I saw the docks, the mishmash of buildings and pathways, the rough perimeter of the city wall, and the well at the heart of town. Only three icons were labeled. One was the inn where I’d spent the night. The second was the weapon shop. The third was The Dark Horse. It was on the far side, where the brigands had accosted Naomi and me.
I closed the map.
What should I do?
I used to roll my eyes when games were too easy. I hated having my hand held and shown exactly where to go. It was annoying. Now I wished Cascadia Quest was more helpful. I could use a “Hey, listen!”
My only clue was The Dark Horse, so that was where I headed. I crossed zigzagging bridges and guided my walk with the map. After looping the same paths, a familiar tavern loomed into view. Sellswords mingled outside, picking their nails with daggers.
A sign depicting a black carousel horse hung over the door. The building jutted at an odd angle, its walls and windows bent in unusual angles.
I went inside. The ground was heavily slanted in several directions. Haphazard balconies made an upper deck. They were staggered at different levels with dank booths and hideaways underneath, festooned with drapes hanging from the ceiling. No two pieces of furniture matched.
The place had character. It was less scary in the day. Last night, it had seemed like a bustling den of shady business, but now it was empty except for the handful of drunks snoozing on tables.
A man with a neck as wide as my waist swept the floor. “Not open.”
“Not here to drink.”
“Then what do you need?” He sighed.
“Actually, I’m looking for a job.”
He grunted.
“Hello?” I waited, but he didn’t respond.
“Leave me alone.”
I couldn’t. This was the only lead I had.
A drunkard groaned as he struggled to an upright position. “You want work?”
/> I approached the booth where he sat. “Yes.”
“I haven’t seen you before.” He belched with a lopsided smile. His hair was bleached and his skin was wrinkled like tanned leather. He dusted a black tricorne hat before setting it on his head.
“I need passage to the Ancient Isle.”
“Not sure why anyone would want to travel there, but whatever. We might be able to help each other.”
He gestured for me to approach, and I joined him across the table.
“See, I belong to a prestigious club of honest businesspersons. Galuf is my name. I’ve never been to the Ancient Isle, and I’m afraid my organization has no representatives there, but we have a strong base in Goldbridge. It’s north of here. She’s a glittering jewel of a city, the biggest in the region. The large port gives ample opportunities for our industry, including merchants from all over. If you were a representative, you’d have no trouble obtaining passage.”
“Okay, fine. Can I be a member?”
It couldn’t be as easy as asking, but I had to try.
“Maybe,” he continued in his oily manner, “if you did something for me. Nobody joins a guild without proving themselves. We are very selective about maintaining the integrity of our group.”
“What do I have to do?”
His smile was shark-like. “I may have a job.”
I pulled up his information window.
Galuf
Level 7 Rogue
HP: 21/21
Traits: [unknown], [unknown], [unknown]
Relationship: [unknown]
That told me nothing. I couldn’t read his traits, but I was pretty sure one was Dishonest. His business seemed shady. Would I book a trip east if I accepted this quest?
A UI prompt appeared.
Quest Available: The Falcon Heirloom
Retrieve the Hadburg family heirloom from their crypt and bring it to Galuf.
Reward: 60 experience, 25 gold, Improved relationship with Guild of Thieves
The details didn’t mention a trip to the Ancient Isle. “What about my free passage?”
“I’d be glad to arrange that after you return the heirloom.”
I stared into Galuf’s eyes, trying to find any misgivings within them. “That sounds like grave robbing.”
“Not at all! My old bones can’t handle physical work anymore. So I … outsource.” The man leaned closer to whisper. “Down the southern road is an abandoned church and a graveyard. It’s been ages since it was used. Nobody goes there because of the curse of N’Goth cast upon it. A foul magic lingers there. Anyone with a lick of sense fears it.”
Sounded like a quest I’d hate. “Any non-graveyard jobs available?”
“No.” He chuckled. “Deep in the crypts lays a baron who once ruled this marsh, entombed with his family. Dour folk, but dead for a long time. When the baron died, he was buried with a precious heirloom. The silver falcon.”
This was headed nowhere good.
“A local gang wants to shut us down. Acquiring that treasure would improve my standing with them. Retrieve it for me, and I’ll sponsor your membership.”
The gold and experience were nice, but a ticket to the Ancient Isle was the most valuable thing to me.
I’m breaking into a crypt. God help me.
There was no button to accept or decline, so I nodded. The prompt disappeared.
“Wonderful!” The man’s grin deepened. “An eager recruit. I should warn you, though. You’re not the first to attempt this heist.”
Six
I couldn’t wait to be done with these marshes. The heirloom quest took me south, but even in this direction, the bog looked the same. Abandoned shacks in various states of disrepair dotted the landscape. Fucked up purple trees as far as I could see.
Cascadia Quest was supposed to be a world of wonderful sights. Promotional art flaunted in-game footage of snow-topped mountains, island beaches with azure waves, and towering castles surrounded by fields of grain and wildflowers. If I were trapped here, I’d rather be on a beach than in a mud-soaked swamp.
Everything reeked with decay, and the scent grew stronger as I approached the desolate church. My map updated with a new icon: The Ghoul Parish. The church was falling apart. Its white walls peeled into rotting sheets. A chunk of roof was caved in. The steeple was broken, its statuettes drowning in muck. Most of the side wall was gone. A clear view inside revealed smashed pews submerged in fetid water. The only thing that remained was a large, stained glass window in the back. It was divided into six murky pie slices. A rainbow of light trickled through.
The graveyard was massive. An unnatural shadow from the thick branches draped over the cemetery. Clouds of rolling darkness filled the ground. Hundreds of tombstones jutted from the earth like oversized roots under trees.
I loaded my crossbow and walked over graves, clutching my dagger. The crumbling stones were marked with faded dates. I jumped a waist-high iron fence. The gate’s hinges were rusted. Coffins were dug up and torn to shreds. Skeletal remains hung over lids. Mangled arms and shattered skulls sank into the mire like everything else. Clearly, this place had been looted before.
Anxiety stabbed my chest. “Creepy, creepy.”
I’d always hated horror movies. Once, I went on a movie date to a slasher film. I was young and stupid. I agreed when she suggested we watch Mega Mutilation Three, eager to sit with her in the darkened theatre. It was an epic disaster. I thought I’d put an arm around her when it got scary, and that would lead to making out. Instead I screamed at every jump-scare like a little bitch. I didn’t kiss her. I never saw her again.
This was my nightmare.
As I plunged deeper into the mist, the road to town disappeared from view. Outlines of crypts emerged from the fog. It was so dense that the ruined church looked like a mirage. Galuf had told me the heirloom was in the tombs.
A scratching noise drifted to my ears. I peeked around the crypt. Standing in a courtyard was an undead monster. It had the size and shape of a man, but its limbs warped and bent into unnatural shapes. The creature’s decaying skin had shredded apart. Shredded cloth and broken skulls stuck to its flesh. Bones jutted from its body at odd angles. Through the gaps in its torso, festering organs throbbed. It was eyeless. A gaping mouth and bloody fangs dominated its face.
I held back a gasp.
Hungry Ghoul
Level 2 Necrophage
HP: 21/21
Traits: Undead
Relationship: Hostile Monster
The creature was hunched over. It raked a torn coffin lid. Its claws made splinters as it rooted for the hidden prize. Directly behind it was my destination—the largest of the tombs, flanked by statues fixed in wailing expressions and topped with a stone falcon perched on its roof.
There it was.
My brain whirred with numbers. Two or four shots would kill the monster, but the crossbow wasn’t quick to reload. Shooting quickly was out of the question. I needed more information.
I grabbed a pebble and lobbed it at a crypt far from the falcon. The rock bounced off a wall. The ghoul tensed and bolted toward the noise. A snarl burst from its decaying throat as it blasted through a rotted door. A cacophony of crashes echoed into the yard as it mindlessly destroyed the interior.
Eventually, it surfaced from the ruined crypt. The beast sniffed, scratching the ground like a hound. Then it stomped back to the busted coffin to resume digging. Now it was 19/21 HP. Apparently, it had damaged itself in its haste to find me.
I studied the ghoul.
It was fast and ferocious. Its claws were way more dangerous than my dagger, and I couldn’t heal myself. It was also as dumb as a stump. Dumb enough to hurt itself with an inanimate object. There weren’t any more stones around me, and I didn’t want to risk leaving my spot.
I crouched under a wall for cover. I aimed my crossbow, holding my breath.
Please work.
I pulled the trigger. The bolt launched. It embedded in the monster’s neck for 10
damage. The creature faced me and released a high-pitched shout. As I seized another bolt and reloaded, it barreled ahead.
Fumbling to snap the bolt in place, I tumbled backward. I raised my weapon and fired. The second shot caught its shoulder, but the 7 damage did nothing to slow its charge. A flurry of needle-sharp claws swung at me. I dropped my bow, jumping from its assault. I drew my dagger. It was almost dead. One more successful strike and this fight would be over.
With a spray of mud, it skidded the corner. The monster leaped as I swung an attack. Claws flashed as my knife wedged in its bony forearm. Bloody jaws snapped inches from my face. God, it was heavy.
I struggled against its weight, but the ghoul forced me to the ground. Its unholy shriek pierced my ears. The skeletal jaw chomped, spraying me with spit and decaying flesh.
Dirt sprayed the air as I kicked wildly. “Get off me!”
I grabbed the dagger stuck in its arm, yanked it free, and shoved the blade into its head. A hollow eye socket flickered as its body went limp. I jerked my weapon from its skull and stomped its corpse.
I examined my health.
14HP
A swipe from the ghoul had taken a quarter of my life bar. My experience was at 88, so I’d gained 23 from the fight. There was no gold, but overall the encounter had been a success. The ghoul’s putrid blood covered my blades. I wiped them clean and retrieved my crossbow.
I crawled toward the crypt and pulled its rusted handle. “Hello?”
No response.
Dried blood smeared the small room. The crimson trail led to steps descending into the earth.
I did not want to go, but I’d come this far. Couldn’t chicken out now.
Don’t panic. It’s not real. Just a game.
I went down, my panicked breaths echoing off stone. The stairs opened into a gigantic, dark underground. It was as big as a high school gymnasium. Wall-mounted skeletal statues perched next to smashed coffins. Faint, blue light glowed from the ceiling, which was overgrown with neon-blue mushrooms. A large sarcophagus draped in black cloth sat along the south wall. A severed hand underneath held a silver falcon.
