It was something that made his heart catch flame - a humble, bog-ugly wooden club. Nothing fancy or sophisticated about it. A base weapon that was only as good as the arm that wielded it. In other words, Nick’s STR enabled the club to hit hard. Better still, it was light and maneuverable, particularly in tight spaces. A strength weapon perfectly suited to the Tomb of the Fallen.
The club was just what Nick needed. Which made him suspicious. On impulse, he equipped his plain necklace. Sure enough, he could now see writing on the cave wall - YOU CAN THANK ME LATER.
Nick smiled as he stowed the necklace. It was only fair that he had a little help when everything else was stacked against him. Another two-handed weapon would’ve held him back. The club allowed Nick to equip his buckler into the left slot. It wasn’t a great shield but it would allow Nick to get back to what he did best - draw and grind. Be hard to hit, harder to kill.
Mentally revived, he crawled back to the pit and ventured down the north passage. He hadn’t checked his timer in a long while. Less than two hours left. The adrenalin of battle was slowly banishing the dark cloud over his head. He would still need to grieve for his father, but at least his mind was coming back to life.
The Love points continued to trickle in. Nick suspected that it was partially down to offering viewers an alternative route under the main tomb. He wondered how many millions of people were currently glued to their Nex casts, wondering if he would survive the day.
The turnaround in public sentiment toward him was phenomenal. He was now the desperate underdog and was being treated, well, almost like a hero. If he did happen to survive, the conversion of all those Love points would make for one hell of a pay day.
Feeling fresher and more alert than he had for a while, Nick wandered into a small, square chamber. It was a strange room, filled with lush, green, waist high vegetation. A stone slab crashed down behind him, shutting him in. The wafer-thin, transparent ceiling was also curious. It shook gently like it was floating on air.
There was no obvious exit from the chamber. Nick pushed and prodded the stone walls for what seemed like an eternity - he was wasting valuable time in here. Feeling drowsy, he sank back against the stone. Maybe a few minutes rest would help him think.
Five minutes became ten without him realizing it. He was distracted by the softly bobbing ferns. It was like he’d been drugged. Not only that, it was becoming difficult to breathe. Shouldn’t these plants be releasing oxygen? Something wasn’t right. No plant could survive down here, not without light or decent soil. So it stood to reason that if they weren’t normal plants, he may not be breathing oxygen.
Panicking a little, he rose unsteadily to his feet, deciding that the plants were the enemy in this room. The quickest way to handle them was a good burn. But how? He had no torches, fire arrows or fire-enhanced weapons.
Struggling for air now, he remembered Stinger. He equipped the dagger and dragged it sharply across the rough stone wall. Sparks showered into the foliage. It took a few swipes for the sparks to catch but within a minute a fire was spreading quickly through the chamber. Nick stood in the corner, cooking in his armor but glad to be breathing again.
As the last plant crumbled into ash, a strange thing occurred - the ceiling came drifting down to him. Nick had to step into the door alcove as it settled. It must have been hovering over the dense layer of gas released by the plants. Still feeling light-headed, Nick stepped onto the “ceiling”, which was now more like a platform.
His hunch proved correct - it rose up a very long shaft. Finally - he was heading back into the upper tomb. He’d had more than enough of the dank, watery lower levels. It was time to cross blades with his rivals and see about slaying The Spiderling once and for all. He couldn’t rush headlong into the fray though - not with a bounty on his head.
The platform left him off in a wide, brightly-lit passage. Buoyed by his progress, Nick continued on his way. At length he heard one of the best sounds in any fantasy RPG - the clink of a blacksmith’s hammer. He cautiously approached a room glowing with light. The blacksmith turned out to be a gnome. The little critter stood on a box in order to reach the anvil, but judging from his wiry frame, he packed more than enough power.
“What you want?” he asked, sweating from his exertions.
Nick checked the passage for enemies before entering the workshop. His mind was already ticking over with what he should buy for the final battle.
“You need weapon?” the gnome asked irritably. “Human hurry - Anaxa needs to work.”
Nick had to smile at that. He accessed the gnome’s inventory and found a lot of weapons for strength builds. Axes, hammers, greatswords. A weapon for every occasion. There was nothing special, but the gnome had the ability to enhance weapons with raw elements. Problem was, Nick needed elemental tablets if he wanted to upgrade his club.
“Any tablets?” he asked the gnome.
“Hmmm,” came the reply. Nick knew he was about to be stung - gnomes were famous for it. “For you, 300 crowns.”
Nick only had 114 crowns, but reluctantly added Stinger to the trade table. The dagger was worth 1100 crowns to the gnome, who gave a low whistle.
“What you need, human?”
“A better shield,” Nick replied, warming to the task. He added the steel buckler to the trade table.
“You big guy, right?” the gnome said. Nick ignored the suggestive tone. “I have just the thing for human.”
The gnome added a white tower shield to his side of the ledger. Nick studied the specs. Nice balance, great DR. Almost three times that of the steel buckler.
“White Knight Tower Shield, very tasty,” the gnome said.
“I’ll take it,” Nick said, “but it still doesn’t make us square.”
“Pushy human,” the gnome scolded. “Maybe you need arbalest, hmmm? Stupid strength build need ranged attack too.”
“Maybe,” Nick said. “Or perhaps you can craft me some armor.”
“Armor? What you have?”
Nick transferred his mer-man scales to the crafting window.
“Where you get those?” the gnome asked. “Haven’t seen in long time.”
“Lower tomb,” Nick said with a trace of pride. “Can you work it?”
“I work it. But if it fall apart, human keep mouth shut.”
“Deal,” Nick said with a smile. It was worth the risk. He had a feeling those scales had special properties.
“Ready,” the gnome announced as soon as Nick closed the shop window. With a happy sigh he opened it again to collect his booty.
The gnome had crafted a breastplate from the silver scales. The piece wasn’t as solid as his plate armor, but it did have a very nice magic resistance. He test-equipped it. His overall DR dropped by 7, which was heresy for a strength build, but his magic resistance rose by 40.
He decided to the keep it on. The rest of his armor made up for the DR shortfall. Plus, he would be wielding his new tower shield and lightning-infused club. He gave the weapon a few lazy swings, loving how it crackled with energy. It always paid for a strength build to diversify damage types, particularly late in a game.
“What brings you here, anyway?” Nick asked the gnome, genuinely curious.
“I work for kobolds,” came the abrupt reply. “Anvil hire.”
The little guy emitted a high-pitched laugh.
“But how did you end up here?” Nick persisted.
“In love kobold maid,” the gnome said. “Parents threaten kill me. Come tomb. Always adventurers tomb. Stupid humans die, leave things behind. Anaxa melt own weapons down.”
This time the laughter echoed throughout the chamber.
“Well, thanks Anaxa.”
Nick’s Love points were coming in at a steady trickle now. It was as if viewers could sense a showdown on the horizon, and were willing him on.
He continued down the passage, feeling ten-foot tall with his new armor, shield and primary weapon. All the miseries of the outside world had faded away, and he was free to focu
s on his task - the restoration of the Rags of the Lich Queen.
If any pixel runners got in his way, he would make them regret it. Nick Stanners had been playing games since he was two years old. They were in his DNA. He could do this. He could be one of the best pixel runners going around. Most importantly, he could prove Neutron Syndicate wrong about him. He could take on the system and win. His fans demanded it.
The air became cold and fetid. A chill breeze passed straight through Nick’s heavy armor. He entered a dark chamber lined with dusty coffins. A silent, oppressive place that practically begged him to turn and flee. The Lich Queen’s tomb. All those coffins may have been the generals and shamans from her dormant army.
Nick passed through several chambers - the walls were lined with thousands of coffins. He remembered an Oakshield Junction saga from a few years back where the Lich Queen attacked a human army in the Valley of Sins. Given the right conditions, the Queen and her undead hordes were a terrifying force.
It seemed that the light faded a little more with every chamber. Nick gradually got the feeling he was being watched.
The Spiderling: Laying a father to rest is no easy business. Interesting to see that you’ve chosen to come here, an illusory game world, to hide from the dead.
“You forced me here!” Nick screamed, tears welling in his eyes.
The burst of emotion was so sudden, so overwhelming, that Nick stopped and steadied himself against the wall. The Spiderling had finally managed to break his defenses. He hated himself for giving into what was an obvious baiting exercise. The Spiderling had an uncanny ability to pull him down to the gutter with a few choice words.
Now he had a choice to make. He could either let his emotions get the better of him, which would lead to a quick, violent death, or he could choose to focus on what made him strong - patient, meticulous gaming. Old school style. Nick took several deep breaths, thinking about how far he’d come, the gear he’d acquired. The lightning-infused club that perfectly complimented his STR rating.
The steadfast gauntlets, greaves and helm. The magic-resistant breastplate. His enhanced Zestus ring. Finally, the White Knight Tower Shield. It wasn’t about who he was as a person, despite The Spiderling’s scalding judgment. It was about gaming. The best gamer would win. That’s all Nick needed to know. Was he the best gamer in the house? Fuck yes.
Just as he was preparing to move on, a blasting wind screeched through the wall to his right. It left him shaking like a leaf. His teeth felt numb and the tips of his fingers tingled. Something told him he’d just brushed with the Lich Queen. It wasn’t her physical self, but a presence that watched over her tomb, her place of rest.
Nick advanced further, determined to complete his mission. He passed into a low, musty tunnel and was buffeted several times by the ghostly force. Every gust seemed to strip away his resolve. By the time he reached the end he felt like dropping to his knees and pleading for mercy.
He found himself in a small, humble chamber.
There was no buffeting wind here, just silent, timeless regret. The Lich Queen had been laid to rest in an open grave. The heaped dirt around the edges hadn’t even been padded down. The tiny figure within was hunched over in a fetal position. She hadn’t completely rotted away - papery flesh still stretched itself across those bones.
There was something tragic about her, something that tickled Nick’s emotions. How did she become like this? Who was she before? He knelt down beside the grave and handed back what was hers. For a moment her body was framed by silver light and she appeared as she used to be. Nick stood, wide-eyed, and gazed into the intelligent, precocious eyes of a teenage girl. The Rags weren’t rags anymore, they had coalesced into a startlingly beautiful vermilion dress.
The Queen looked so healthy, so serene, that Nick wished with all his heart that she could stay that way forever. But the echo faded, and the horribly rotted corpse reappeared. The Rags seemed wholly inadequate, barely covering her body.
The tomb felt a little less oppressive, like a weight had been lifted. Nick headed back down the tunnel, feeling a strange relief. The Lich Queen had peace once more, and would not rise to command her army.
Of course, The Spiderling of Duskstar Forest was still at large. Once Nick had traversed the Queen’s tunnel he located a connecting passage that took him north west. It widened out into a cave entrance that overlooked a yawning abyss. A spindly rope bridge spanned the chasm and admitted to a hard granite tower. That had to be it. The place where he needed to prove his role-playing mettle once and for all.
Nick tested the bridge. Dodgy, but he forced one foot in front of the other. He’d never been so nervous. But that was good, he told himself. It meant that his body was adrenalized and primed for action. Slow and steady, he repeated like a mantra. It was the way he’d always played. No dancing, no tricks, no unnecessary flourishes. Nick Stanners was a conservative, dour strength build at heart and that’s how he’d fight his last battle.
He reached the end of the bridge and headed up a spiraling path that led to an imposing archway. The only entrance into the tower. Nick approached nervously, oblivious to everything but his own heartbeat. He was ready - armor, club, shield, ring. He would’ve liked to have accumulated more skills, but Oakshield Junction never gave things away easily and he was thankful for what he had.
Nick passed under the archway and found himself standing at the top of a huge, crumbling amphitheater. The ancient granite terraces descended into a circular floor where a single figure stood - The Spiderling. He looked as grotesque as ever - even from this distance Nick could see the swarming spiders that scuttled in his open chest cavity.
“At last,” said the villain, looking at Nick with predatory glee. “The final piece of our glorious puzzle has arrived.”
Held in thrall by prisms of white light, the other pixel runners were scattered around the uppermost terrace. There were a dozen survivors. Nick assumed they’d all completed the Lich Queen quest and had been kept waiting until the last runner arrived. Now that Nick had reached the arena, a Grand Melee could begin.
“You know,” The Spiderling said, “this is where great orators once delivered eulogies for the Dead. They appeased the panicked masses by waxing lyrical about our warriors and heroes.”
The Spiderling eyed every pixel runner in turn. Nick knew it was all theater, but a chill still ran down his spine, especially when the villain’s gaze lingered on him.
“I can promise you one thing - when you’re all dead, I will deliver an appropriate, heartfelt eulogy.”
The Spiderling’s gaze was locked on Nick.
“Even if there’s no one around to hear it.”
Nick couldn’t breathe. It was an overt threat - a reminder that no one would notice if he never surfaced in the real world again. The more he proved himself as a gamer, the more attractive he was to Neutron. He was sure of it.
“Enough talk,” The Spiderling said, flicking his hand.
The prisms holding the pixel runners faded. Nick gripped his club and shield tightly as the ancient amphitheater become a battleground. Nick assumed a defensive stance, primal instinct taking over. A figure loomed to his right - SavaLynxxx with her great hammer. Several pixel runners were coming straight for him, presumably to collect their bounty. Their unseemly haste would be their demise.
Nick backed away, noticing that the marble archway was now blocked by a magical energy field. He side-stepped Savalynxxx’s crushing attack and ducked under her next cross-cleave. Because she carried such a heavy weapon, she was left open. He clubbed her torso mercilessly, getting four hits in.
SavaLynxxx responded with a neat haft-butt, momentarily stunning Nick. By this stage the second pixel runner had entered the melee - a Brigand by the name of Clubfoot. Nick almost smiled. Brigands rarely fared well in these situations, which is why he never rolled them. Descending the terraces, he used his lower position to make it difficult for SavaLynxxx to cross-cleave him.
Nick also needed to keep i
n mind that these pixel runners weren’t fighting for each other - they were still very much out for themselves. Something he could use to his advantage. There was nothing a Brigand liked better than to backstab in a chaotic melee. It usually killed the target and they were pretty much immune from attack during the animation.
Nick maneuvered himself so that SavaLynxxx made a tempting target for Clubfoot. All he had to do was rebuff the Knight’s attacks and let Clubfoot do the rest. He didn’t disappoint, executing a perfect back-stab. When SavaLynxxx was prone on the ground Nick finished her off with a brutal swipe. He waved at Clubfoot as the XP trickled in. A little bravado went a long way in PvP.
Clubfoot circled Nick warily, recognizing the Barbarian’s guile. In a head-to-head out in the open, the Brigand had next to no hope of winning. Nick advanced like a bull, harassing Clubfoot with his shield. The Brigand tried to roll away but Nick anticipated the move and tumbled along with him. As they both rose to their feet, Nick lashed out with the swift, gloriously-light club and trapped the poor Brigand in a series of stun-lock attacks.
The poor fool was dead before Nick’s stamina entered the danger zone. As he allowed it to replenish, he surveyed the battlefield. Two runners were hustling up the terraces toward him. The Spiderling was engaging another two, whilst Kain was busily dispatching an opponent on the far side. Six runners already lay dead, including the two Nick had killed. Casualties came thick and fast when there was this level of talent in the one area.
Nick’s next two opponents looked tricky. One was a Paladin with a ice-enhanced trident. The other was a Ranger, who knelt some forty yards away and began loosing toxic arrows at will. Nick keep his shield up, but those damn arrows began chipping away at his HP.
TheAuthority7 was an imposing figure with heavy armor and a meaty tower shield. His disadvantage was YolandaWisdom’s line of fire. Nick kept him in that lethal cone of fire for as long as he could. By the time the pair engaged TheAuthority7 was down to 60% HP.
Knowing he was about to receive serious damage, Nick advanced and strafed left on the paladin, exposing his own back to toxic arrows. TheAuthority7 clearly didn’t expect the move, which gave Nick a slight advantage. He swiped at the paladin’s exposed flank before stepping back. Going for broke, he kept backing away down the terraces, straight for the Ranger. Arrow after arrow decimated his HP.
Strength Build: A LitRPG Saga (The Complete Strength Build Cycle) Page 17
