Dexterity Build: A LitRPG Saga (The Complete Dexterity Build Cycle)

by Steven J Shelley

  Nick moved in amongst the throng, his katana flashing with stylish efficiency. With Lee’s flanking assistance they finished off the mob in less than a minute, both leveling up. Nick added a point to DEX without hesitation - his plan was to hit a ‘soft’ DEX cap of 40 or so, which would confer lethal damage to his katana. That, combined with his attack speed and high stamina, proved to make him a very tricky proposition.

  Lee added a point to STR, ensuring she maintained a balanced DEX/STR build. Corsairs depended on such flexibility, and in many ways it was an effective compliment to Nick’s abilities. As a Corsair, Lee was able to ‘tank’ more situations than Nick could. Her role was to draw their enemies, whilst his brief was to flank them from wider angles or perhaps even score a back-stab or two. If they performed their roles correctly, they had the potential to be a devastating pair.

  The goblins didn’t possess much of value. Still, it was worth accumulating “junk” if there was opportunity to sell it in Ashk. The city itself was visible on the horizon - a flat, hazy expanse of church spires, temples, towers and minarets. The settlement was one of the largest in Tyrennia, and prided itself on political neutrality. With humble trading origins, the culture was an intoxicating mix of elvish, dwarven and human influences. Nick remembered the city from an earlier season of Oakshield Junction. It promised to be an alluring and exotic adventure.

  “Keep moving,” Lee urged, hastening to a jog. Nick matched her pace, keen to reach the King.

  The pair reached the bottom of the trail without further incident. The wagon train was a good two miles to the south. SnowmanCometh had almost reached it.

  “Damn,” Nick said. “He’s good.”

  “We can still get an audience,” Lee pointed out, picking up the pace.

  The pair ran hard, mindful of the pixel runner who had appeared less than a mile to their left. The runner, who was dressed like a Robed One or an Archivist, was also heading for the wagon train. In the end the Bonded pair’s superior stamina and agility won out, bringing them to the wagon train first. SnowmanCometh leaped from the door of the largest wagon, saluted, then continued south in the direction of Ashk.

  “Tempting to just follow him,” Lee said.

  “I know what you mean,” Nick said. “But the King might have important news.”

  “Agreed,” Lee replied.

  A score of armored knights rode at the rear of the wagon train and watched the runners intently. The King had obviously given orders to let mercenaries approach, otherwise Nick and Lee would’ve been headed off. The pair used a burst of stamina to sprint to the royal blue wagon, where a burly steward helped them aboard.

  Nick’s eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light of the cabin interior. King Alain was sitting on the opposite bench. Nick couldn’t remember him being so emaciated and gaunt. It was obvious that the crown weighed heavily. Alain clearly relished the company of books and maps more than he did his subjects.

  “You mercenaries are coming thick and fast,” Alain muttered with disdain. “I suppose it can’t hurt to send a few rats into the city ahead of me.”

  Alain peered at Nick with eyes that lacked their usual acuity.

  “You’re the one I entertained outside the Tomb of the Fallen. It’s a pity Syl isn’t around to pleasure you.”

  Lee shifted uncomfortably.

  “How can we help you, sire?” Nick asked quickly.

  Alain’s smile faded. “How disappointing. What a sterile little meeting this is turning out to be. Once in the city, it is my intention to engage Viceroy Danta. He controls the purse strings in Ashk and might be able to provide professional assassins at a reasonable rate.”

  Nick suspected the minerals from the Grymdor Mine would go a long way to financing such an enterprise.

  “Your mission is to represent my interests at street level,” Alain continued. “Gather intelligence, acquire more diadem prisms and find a way of recruiting Bishop Haam. I hear he’s particularly thorny to outsiders. We’ll need his expertise if Hager is indeed on the move again. I do not intend to stay long - every second away from Durandor is a dagger through my heart. Watch for a royal blue flare over the city - that’ll be my signal to leave.”

  Nick nodded, glancing at his timer. This session was eight hours of game time.

  “Go.”

  Nick was glad to tumble from the wagon - Alain made him uncomfortable. As he picked himself up from the tussocks, he saw the wizard from earlier, FallGuy67, enter the wagon from the other side of the train.

  Unwilling to waste another minute, Nick and Lee hustled south, gradually pulling free of the royal convoy. The city was much closer now - close enough for the runners to see the guards on the ramparts of the northern gate.

  “Hate guards,” Lee muttered under her breath. Nick wasn’t overly fond of them either. He and Lee weren’t exactly wanted criminals, but couldn’t afford to be bogged down in city bureaucracy. Judging from the queue of peasants waiting to enter via the northern gate, that was entirely possible.

  “There must be another way in,” Nick said.

  “These old cities have maze-like sewer systems,” Lee said. “If you’re game enough.”

  “Of course I’m game,” Nick said with a smile. “I think we should try it.”

  The pair veered right and advanced along the base of a massive sandstone wall. They could actually hear the steady murmur of city folk on the other side.

  “Market,” Lee said. “What I would give for a chance to enhance my scimitars.”

  “You can do that?” Nick asked.

  He hadn’t been able to enhance his own weapons. Lee showed him the hexagonal sockets on the hilt of her twin swords.

  “Fully upgradeable,” she said proudly. “Oakshield Junction just likes to withhold all the good stuff.”

  “Amen to that,” Nick agreed. “I’m still trying to find a skills vendor.”

  “I heard there’s only a handful in all Tyrennia,” Lee said. They were now crossing verdant fields of livestock. Stinking of human waste, a shallow ditch hugged the city wall. The smell was actually a good sign as it suggested a drain was in the vicinity.

  Sure enough, just when Nick’s armor was thick with perspiration, the pair came across a grill in the base of the wall. The gap at the bottom looked just big enough to squeeze through. Trying not to think about the rancid water soaking through his cowl, Nick hauled himself through and peered into the darkness.

  Lee had been right - the city did have an elaborate sewer system, albeit one that was crumbling into dust before their eyes. A cobblestoned channel ran due east. Since the flow was barely a trickle, the going was relatively easy. Lee took point and set a cracking pace.

  The pair had been jogging for ten minutes when Lee signaled to stop. Nick couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary, but things did seem unnaturally quiet. Next thing he knew the hilt of a throwing dagger was protruding from his chest.

  “Ambush,” Lee spat, rolling under a second knife. Unfortunately, that one hit Nick too, dragging his HP down further. Three elves emerged from the gloom, all dressed like rogues.

  “Watch their bortas,” Lee warned, referring to their long, curved daggers. The weapons were light and had surprisingly good reach. Nick had seen elves gut their opponents with disturbing ease using such weapons.

  “Roger that,” Nick said, drawing his katana and watching the elves closely.

  In typically bold fashion, Lee rolled twice through their ranks, forcing them to fight back-to-back. Two elves turned to deal with her, leaving only one for Nick. As far as he could tell it would be a straight-up dex fight. He needed to be wary of the elf’s quick blade and rolling ability, but otherwise he had the superior armor and weapon.

  Perhaps aware that he was facing off against a formidable dex build, the elf approached warily, turning his blade over in his hand. When the attack came, Nick could barely see it. One second the elf was in front, the next he was behind, taking Nick for over 200HP. The thrusting power attack had ignored Nick
’s defenses.

  Normally he’d have a shield in hand, which would mitigate such damage, but a dexer was expected to anticipate such moves. Frowning, Nick squared off once more with his foe, conscious that his back was turned to Lee’s battle. He could hear the clash of steel and hoped she was OK.

  This time Nick took a different approach, rushing the elf and rolling through what he hoped would be a defensive attack. The attack never came. Instead the elf neatly side-stepped Nick and stabbed him in the back with his borta. Another 200HP, bringing Nick down to 30%. This was madness.

  Was Nick rusty? Flat? This wasn’t like him at all. The elf smiled as he circled him. All Nick would’ve needed to do in the past was tank the bastard with good armor and set up camp behind a thick shield. For his next attack he pushed close to the elf with his katana in a defensive position, strafing hard right. The thief crouched low and cross-swiped, dealing moderate damage before rolling away.

  Down to a quarter of his HP and thoroughly humiliated, Nick backed away and considered his options. Flank-rolling had failed. Strafing had failed. Another option was to draw and back-step. Nick carefully edged into the elf’s attack zone but wasn’t quick enough on the reversal. The elf was in the middle of a leaping attack animation that might have killed Nick when a scimitar burst through his chest. Lee twisted her blade and stood over the twitching corpse, panting hard. She had disposed of all three of the thieves.

  “What happened?” she asked. “Couldn’t get a read on them?”

  “Something like that,” Nick said, angry with his lackluster performance. “They were fast.”

  “Sure,” Lee said. “But that katana of yours has a wide reach.”

  It was true. Nick needed to swing his blade more. Think like a dexer. Use more intricate fighting techniques. The thieves didn’t possess much of value apart from a few vials of anti-venom. One enemy had dropped his borta as loot but Nick wanted to stick with his katana.

  “Hey, look at this,” he said, spotting a wet sack jutting from a loose stone. A medium-sized shield lay inside. It’s face depicted a white horse on blue and red checkered boxes.

  “Order of the Stallion,” Lee said. “Haven’t seen one of those for years.”

  Nick hefted the shield - it was well balanced, sturdy and felt right. He’d been rolling a strength build all his life. It was what he knew, in his blood. He was tired of a dexer’s constant vulnerability. The ever-present knowledge that a quick series of blows would enough to kill. It played on a dexer’s psychology.

  At least mana users could learn powerful protective spells. Dexers had no recourse to building a wall around them. They were only as good as the gamer’s finesse. Which was fine - most of the time. The majority of dexers weren’t being stalked by the game wardens like Nick was. It was enough to wear any runner down.

  He wondered if he should’ve rolled a Robed One or an Archivist. Oakshield Junction was famous for its variety of offensive and defensive magics. At least then Nick wouldn’t be so predictable. He’d styled himself as a Duelist, a melee dexer. If the last skirmish was any indication, the Duelist was a hard roll in a city of shadows like Ashk.

  Was there a law that said he couldn’t use a shield? What penalties would it incur? Weight? The katana’s power attacks? Seemed like a small price to pay for a good shield. Couldn’t Nick play like he used to, but retain all the good things about being a DEX specialist?

  “I don’t like that look in your eye,” Lee said. “You’re not actually thinking of using that shield?”

  “Why not?” Nick reasoned. “I’m conditioned to taking blows, not dodging them.”

  “You had a rough fight,” Lee said. “Don’t lose faith in your roll - we’ll both get killed.”

  “I’ll see,” Nick said, stubbornly keeping the shield equipped on his left arm. Lee didn’t look convinced, but pressed on through the tunnel. The pair advanced into a wider sewer that had walkways on either side and branching tunnels at regular intervals. They would get lost if they weren’t careful.

  Lee found a door and forced it open. A warehouse lay beyond, chock full of goblets and silverware.

  “Fencing operation,” Lee said. “But no one’s used this warehouse for a while.”

  Nick was tempted to loot some of the merchandise but it was too heavy to carry around. That was another thing about dexers - they weren’t able to carry much loot without losing what made them powerful in the first place.

  The pair rejoined the main sewer line and descended several stone weirs. The stinking water flowed more quickly here, foaming over the weirs and pooling further down the tunnel. The pixel runners were halfway down when they heard the soft click of a door closing.

  Lee was brandishing her scimitars in an instant. Nick peered over the top of his shield, seeing nothing in the gloom. Then a figure dropped from an unseen ledge right in front of him. He only had time to recognize SnowmanCometh, the albino Duelist they’d seen on the plain earlier.

  Laughing openly, the runner plunged his glowing falchion into Nick’s chest. The blow did only moderate damage, but the residual poison was savage. Rather than strike back, Nick instantly consumed an anti-venom potion. It halted his blood loss but SnowmanCometh wasn’t finished there, peppering Nick with blows that did small amounts of damage. The Duelist clearly had zero strength and very low dexterity. But he was impossible to hit. Incredibly evasive and fast, SnowmanCometh zipped around the barrel drain like a phantom. Nick tried to anticipate his attack patterns but all he did was leave himself open to Snowman’s gnat-like attacks.

  “Fucking move, Stanners!” Lee growled as she tried to flank SnowmanCometh. She managed to land a couple of glancing blows but their enemy had so much stamina he was like a constant roll animation. It was a dexer’s version of a shield. Nick found himself star-gazing instead of fighting. He raised his shield out of pure instinct, but he may as well be stumbling around naked.

  SnowmanCometh flanked him easily and was about to deliver a killing blow when Lee barged into Nick and took him over the weir. He had a horrible feeling of free fall before crashing into the water below. The pair were swept off the next weir too. Lee lashed out and grabbed what remained of a rotting wooden ladder fixed to the side of the drain. With impressive strength she hauled Nick up onto a stone ledge. There was no sign of SnowmanCometh - they had somehow eluded him. The enemy howled his displeasure further up the weirs.

  “I’ll find you, Stanners,” he called. “You can’t run forever.”

  The pair didn’t dare move as they caught their breath. After a tense few minuets Lee turned on Nick.

  “What the fuck was that?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You were like a deer in headlights up there! What’s wrong with you today?”

  “That guy was everything a DEX build should be,” Nick said. “I think I rolled badly.”

  “Bullshit,” Lee said scornfully. “You know what you’re doing. You’re quick on your feet and you pack a serious punch with that katana. You just don’t believe in the build at the moment. If you don’t get your fucking mojo back we’re toast.”

  “So you keep saying,” Nick said bitterly. He was growing tired of Lee telling him what to do. Didn’t he deserve more respect?

  “Lose the shield, Nick,” Lee said firmly. “I’m telling you, you’ll be better for it in the long run.”

  “The shield stays,” he said. “I you don’t like it, you’re welcome to go your own way.”

  “Such a jackass,” Lee said under her breath.

  “Fuck you, too.”

  There was nothing else to say - all Nick had left was intense frustration. SnowmanCometh had ripped him a new one. Who was he exactly? There was something familiar about his voice …

  “Walter Jackson,” Lee said, as if she was reading his thoughts.

  Nick gave a low whistle. Walter fucking Jackson? The guy was a legendary pixel runner, though SnowmanCometh wasn’t his regular gamertag. From memory, Jackson was a seven-time champion of O
akshield Junction - a rare feat. If the Syndicate was paying him to kill Nick, what chance did he have?

  “I’m fucking screwed,” he said.

  “Now there’s a good fucking attitude,” Lee said. “Dex the fuck up, Nick, or we’re both finished.”

  The Corsair began climbing a ladder Nick hadn’t realized was there. It was time to focus. Anything less than a bright, professional attitude was liable to get him killed. It was just difficult to stay calm when the deck was so clearly stacked against him.

  Taking a deep breath to settle his mind, Nick ascended the ladder. The pair soon emerged into a blessedly dry tunnel pierced by sunlight. Lee found a door at the eastern end and they pushed through to the external first-floor landing of a sandstone house. They wasted no time in joining the throng of a busy street. They had escaped the claustrophobic confines of the sewer and were well inside the city.

  “This is more like it,” Nick said to himself as they headed south with the general flow.

  He was spellbound by the wild clash of Ashkian architecture. One building displayed the cool curves of elvish design, the next was brutally utilitarian in the dwarven style. And yet elves, dwarves and humans were not the only races to call Ashk home. There were goblin traders, maskar drifters, aquilan sentries and even kobold scholars.

  The city was a strict neutral zone and did not recognize the partisan conflicts of other lands. Anyone who stepped foot in Ashk had the right to political freedom, even if the streets themselves were often dangerous.

  Nick reminded himself to stay alert - here in the bustling streets it was so easy to be distracted by the exotic colors, languages and smells of colliding cultures. Further south the pair came across a stall-lined market where they off-loaded their excess gear. Nick was glad to be rid of the leather armor he’d been carrying since he acquired the Snow Hunter set.