A Thousand Drunken Monkeys: Book 2 in the Hero of Thera series

by Eric Nylund

  “Sounds good,” I said.

  Morgana nodded.

  And so we walked.

  “Morgana,” I said. “How’d you get that new elemental shape?”

  She inhaled deeply and coughed. “Didn’t get it. Had a one-shot item, gift from the Druids of the Grove of Thirteen Ancients. They think I’m a bloody hero.” She snorted. “Figured I’d better use it back there.”

  “Good call.”

  We let our next words linger unspoken. Or we might have all died.

  I let Morgana and Elmac get a little ahead of me. I needed time and space to myself to figure things out.

  Elmac’s pack kept pace, teetering through the grass after him. There was an occasional grunt and a choice curse from Oswald as he carried the burden.

  I didn’t feel a bit sorry for him.

  A quarter mile in the distance I spotted a herd of buffalo. Azramath’s headband allowed me to see far more detail than I normally could. These were not like the version of bison that had once roamed my world. These shaggy creatures sported a ten-foot rack of horns, and I had to take a moment to make sure I was seeing this right: a third horn in the middle of their forehead. The adults were the size of… of… well, think the same mass of an elephant, but longer, and much more muscle.

  Good thing they were herbivores.

  Buffalo were exclusively plant eaters, weren’t they? Morgana didn’t seem worried, and the creatures only glanced our way once and then ignored us.

  We’ll just leave you guys alone and you leave us alone and everyone will be cool.

  Overhead soared white eagles; a flock of silver sparrows; and closer to us earth-bound folk, more hummingbirds, rainbow clouds of shimmering, chittering, fluttering motion all about us—that then vanished in a flash of iridescence.

  A slight breeze made the grass a wavering sea of green, hypnotic and soul soothing.

  I exhaled.

  This too was magic of a sort.

  Enough sightseeing. There were chores to do, or depending how you looked at it, presents to unwrap.

  I had to level up.

  If the Chaos Knight was any indication of the dangers we’d face in the future, I’d need every mana and health point I could get my hands on, and as soon as possible.

  Besides, I’d promised Elmac to get him into the Game when I had the experience points for fifth level.

  I accessed my interface. So, how was I going to level up?

  I faced the same choices as last time: level up my core classes, pick a class specialization, or select my third and final character class.

  I’d start with the easy choices.

  I couldn’t improve my Mage of the Line class because I didn’t have the experience points. It looked like it cost more than twice as much as Spirit Warrior to advance.

  Also an easy decision: I wasn’t adding a third class any time soon.

  I’d barely recovered from yesterday’s sudden “recollection” of all those suppressed memories about my dad and I secretly being Mages of the Line.

  As often as not, I now found myself thinking I was Hektor, gypsy elf and Shakespeare devotee… not Hector, a human soul simply stuffed into an elf body playing the Game.

  I had to figure this alternate personality thing out or risk losing myself.

  To a lesser degree, the same rationale applied to picking my Spirit Warrior specialization. I couldn’t imagine how, for example, my backstory would be re-written to account for becoming a Master of Death. Learning how to create and wield those exotic weapons? That sounded like years of training… years of new memories.

  Nope. My brain was taking it easy today.

  This left me with boosting my Spirit Warrior class to plain-old fourth level. I’d improve my foundational skills, and there’d be no need to fiddle with my neurons.

  This wasn’t min-maxing, per se… or was it?

  Preserving the recollections of Hector the gamer had one huge advantage (besides me staying me): I’d keep treating the Game as a game, jigger its systems to my advantage, and draw upon the experiences of the many characters I’d played in previous games.

  Yes. That was definitely the way to go.

  Okay, so advancing from third to fourth-level Spirit Warrior I got 5 stat points, 3 combat skill points, and a bunch of non-combat skill points that, added to my previous unspent non-combat skill points, totaled a whopping 36.

  I’d wait on the non-combat skills until I could take a few days to read through the hundreds of non-combat skill descriptions. Maybe I’d pick up a crafting skill.

  First, we had to get through this and the assassin quests. So it was probably more prudent to bank those points for any skills I might need on the fly.

  I started with stat points.

  I dropped two into REFLEX, and one into EGO and GHOST. I still wasn’t exactly sure what the GHOST stat did, but best to hedge my bets. EGO and GHOST both boosted my SOUL stat, which in turn, upped my spiritual mana—that seemed to always be in short supply.

  The last point I put in PERCEPTION. Noticing the little details had saved my skin more than once. I’d like to be able to keep doing that.

  Next, combat skills.

  I’d previously maxed out my Perfect Motion and Fists of Steel skills to their highest tiers. My Spiritual Regeneration could be bumped from second to third tier (also the maximum for that skill) and that would improve the ability’s mana-to-healing ratio. A no-brainer, especially as upping it cost a single point.

  There was only one other combat skill to purchase, Chi Disruption. It let me burn mana to do more melee damage. It cost a skill point to purchase at tier one, but two more points to take it to the next tier.

  I wasn’t enthused about Chi Disruption. At first tier, I didn’t get a lot of bang for the buck i.e. damage for spent mana. Since I never seemed to have enough spiritual mana to go around, it was a less than optimal choice.

  Also, if I bought it, I’d have one combat skill point left over.

  I checked if I could use that point on my Mage of the Line abilities, but there was no option to increase the tiers of those yet.

  I decided to test something.

  I maxed out my Spiritual Regeneration but held off spending those last combat skill points.

  Why? Well, when I’d advanced from first to second level, the Spirit Warrior specialization paths had unlocked.

  When I’d leveled up to third, I’d been given a freebie skill—Wire Work, which let me run up walls, sprint over the tops of bamboo stalks, and other similarly improbable acrobatics feats like I was in a Hong Kong action flick.

  Could another surprise be waiting? Perhaps something I might need combat skill points to buy?

  If I was wrong, I didn’t think I’d lose the points. Just like I hadn’t lost any of the non-combat skill points I’d banked.

  I rubbed my face, considered, and what the heck—hit the LEVEL UP button.

  Nothing.

  And then… more nothing happened.

  Well, you couldn’t be right all the time.

  I took two steps to catch up with Morgana and Elmac.

  A glowing amber frame popped up and blocked my path.

  ALERT!

  You have maximized the Spirit Warrior base abilities: Fists of Steel, Spiritual Regeneration, and Perfect Motion. This fulfills the requirements for Game Progression Tier 1 (GPT-1).

  Through your dedication and study of the Spirit Warrior fundamentals, you have become an acknowledged MASTER of the art. You may now develop a new MASTER TECHNIQUE derived from one of these base abilities.

  Congratulations, Master Saint-Savage.

  CHAPTER 19

  I smiled. This was so cool. I was a Master.

  This “mastery” mechanic gave characters who didn’t immediately specialize a way to compete with those who did. As a bonus, the aforementioned new skill supposedly came from a recent inspiration, which I hoped meant no new backstory memories.

  The Game, however, hadn’t forgotten to throw me a curveball.
>
  Progression Tiers? What were those?

  More text appeared in the window:

  Select one MASTER TECHNIQUE from the following:

  Master of the Fist of Ghost Steel

  Fists of Steel has made your hands diamond-hard mystical weapons. You may now phase through matter to various degrees and bypass an opponent’s physical and magical defenses, thereby greatly increasing your potential damage.

  First Disciple of the Red Ribbon (aka Master of Death’s Dance)

  Your mastery of Perfect Motion has honed your body into a kinetic maelstrom able to simultaneously attack and defend. Dramatically increases your defense, attack potentials, move speed, and grace.

  High Adept of the Sun Soul

  Your expertise with Spiritual Regeneration now cures a variety of conditions (disease, paralysis etc.). Furthermore, you may also empathically heal others.

  NOTE: Only you will know your chosen MASTER TECHNIQUE. While other Spirit Warriors in the Game may develop similar abilities from time to time, the technique you select will forever be unique and solely yours.

  A unique ability all mine?

  I felt… honored.

  Still, an honor or not, I had to choose one. Best to think of them like any other skills in the Game and reduce my options to the basics.

  It boiled down to being better at offense, defense, or healing. Simple enough.

  Okay, I’d pass on Fist of Ghost Steel. Increased damage was always welcome, but if it only worked with my fists, I’d have to get close to an opponent to use it. I wasn’t quite ready to pigeonhole my fighting style yet. After all, a ranged weapon had saved my life in the last fight.

  Death’s Dance? I was a huge fan of not getting hit. Could I have dodged the Chaos Knight’s attacks if I’d had this? A better defense might stop damage from occurring in the first place, rather than burning mana later to heal it. Hmm. This was a definite “maybe.”

  And finally, High Adept of the Sun Soul. Very tempting. It had been unbearable to watch Morgana and Elmac bleed out. If it hadn’t been for those healing potions…

  I smoothed a finger over the back of my right hand, feeling the ridges under my skin from the demon bone knuckles.

  “…give them great meals of beef and iron and steel, they will eat like wolves and fight like devils.”

  That was Shakespeare’s wisdom on the matter. Warriors must be warriors, even in the face of certain defeat.

  I bet Henry V, though, never had to level up.

  If I’d built my character to prioritize my SOUL over BODY stat, High Adept of the Sun Soul would be a slam-dunk choice. But I’d crafted my character to be far more “warrior” than “spiritual” spellcaster. I’d also picked a second class that depended on a high REFLEX stat, so choosing the High Adept mastery would only split my progression priorities.

  As much as I wanted to be a better healer, I felt that boosting my defense and speed was the better call.

  So why couldn’t I shake the image of my friends dying?

  I pushed that scene aside, and instead imagined performing an outrageous series of acrobatics that culminated with a spinning kick to one of the Chaos Knight’s faces—so hard, she teetered on the edge of the island and then fell to her doom.

  Yeah. That.

  First Disciple of the Red Ribbon (aka Master of Death’s Dance) it was.

  Congratulations, First Disciple!

  You have made an enlightenment-like breakthrough in kinesthesia, the awareness of the position and movement of your body by your senses and proprioceptors in muscles and joints. Your balance, grace, and precision are unparalleled among mortals.

  This does not, however, mean that you always hit or are always missed in combat. There is a modest increase in your attack and defensive potentials, and you are merely considered the best within a “normal” range for a martial artist of your level.

  Ah… so, in reality, this was nothing more than a minor bonus and a very fancy title. Not as great as I’d first thought, but hey, I wasn’t turning my nose up at a freebie.

  Then this appeared:

  You may, however, now improve your base motion-related skills past all others who are not a Master of the defensive basics.

  Furthermore, as the one and only Master of Death’s Dance, you may be able to later unlock new skills and abilities not available to any other player.

  Okay… more cool.

  If I was understanding this right, it kind of was a big deal. I could improve my base motion skills to supernatural levels. And developing skills and abilities that no other player had? My own private progression path?

  I got the chills.

  Abilities available for immediate upgrade:

  Wire Work (tier 2) Further enhance this passive ability to perform even greater acrobatic feats such as running up walls, springing off the blade of an enemy’s strike, leaping twenty feet into tree branches, and other maneuvers limited by your imagination and only sometimes the force of gravity.

  Cost to Improve: 2 combat skill points.

  Perfect Motion (tier 4): A burst of supercharged adrenaline that boosts your Perfect Motion ability for one minute, further doubling the number of your attacks and speed.

  NOTE: Within five minutes of using this ability you must rest for an hour or risk permanent damage to your health.

  Cost: 50 mana to use tier-4 boost.

  Cost to Improve: 4 combat skill points.

  As promised, I could now improve my motion-based skills past what would otherwise be their maximum tiers.

  I was so glad I’d hung onto those two combat skill points. It gave me the option to either improve Wire Work now or bank the points and get the Perfect Motion upgrade next level. This assumed I’d get three combat skill points like I had for advancing the last two levels in Spirit Warrior.

  By the numbers, the improved Perfect Motion was hands down the better combat skill.

  But who was I kidding? I’d known the instant I’d read their descriptions which one I’d pick.

  I selected Wire Work tier 2.

  I loved Wire Work at the first skill tier. What was better than approximating the stunts of my favorite martial art stars? Absolutely nothing.

  I felt a shift in my thoughts. It wasn’t a new memory, rather a sharpening of my old ones. I’d watched hundreds of acrobatic feats and spellbinding fight sequences in the movies. Now, however, I saw them as human Hector and gypsy elf Hektor. Together we analyzed and understood how we could pull off the same stunts—even embellish and improve them.

  I offered my silent respect to Masters Chan, Lee, Li, Liu, and the Brothers Shaw.

  I closed my interface windows and centered myself.

  Awesome.

  I had never felt so good in either of my lives. Besides my new martial art skills, I had keener eyes and ears, and a whopping 180 health. I bet if I had wanted to I could have plucked a dust mote out of the air.

  Along with my new gear and their boosts to my stats, and new Mage of the Line abilities, it was like I was a new character.

  My power had taken a quantum leap.

  That’s what fulfilling the requirements of Game Progress Tier 1 must have been all about. Did that mean, though, the opponents I’d face from here on out would be similarly more powerful?

  That thought splashed cold water all over my happy. Well, one would have to be a fool to frown on such good fortune.

  I looked around. The scenery was different.

  I must have spent hours with my face stuck in interface windows.

  Elmac and Morgana had halted on a sandspit in the middle of a stream. A school of cobalt-striped trout flashed by and one jumped up—glistened a moment in the sun—and then plunked back into cool waters.

  Elmac settled into a tiny folding director’s chair (that he must have had crammed into his pack), and then suggested to Oswald that he set up the heating stone, ready a pot of tea, and catch a few fish to broil up for lunch.

  Oswald muttered darkly and complied.

&nb
sp; Morgana nodded over my head and smiled. “See you leveled yourself up. Brilliant! But crikey! You’re practically glowing, mate. What is that effect? Tier 2 smugness?”

  “That’s the aura of my awesomeness,” I remarked, ignoring the sarcasm. “It indicates I’m on a higher plane than you lesser beings.” (And yeah, I did feel a little smug).

  She snorted.

  “So you be fifth level?” Elmac’s bushy brows arched. He took a puff on his pipe, slitted his eyes, and exhaled. “That means I can get into the Game now?”

  He offered me the pipe but I declined. Last time I’d smoked that druid weed, my head had spun for hours.

  “I think so. Let me check.”

  I thought about how to add a new member to my clan and turned back to my interface.

  The faithful game tutorial did not disappoint.

  =TUTORIAL (continued)=

  Clans—Basic Functions

  As the highest-level player in your clan (at, or greater than, fifth level), you are hereby designated its LEADER. You may now access the CLAN MENU via the clasped hands icon. From there you may use your clan vault, summon clan members once per month to meetings, set up clan communication channels, and add new clan members.

  I tapped the icon of clasped hands (that before had been greyed out and unselectable). A new window framed with polished black walnut appeared. Everything was there—including a field to enter a name, and next to it an ADD MEMBER button.

  =TUTORIAL (continued)=

  Clans—Adding Members

  New clan members may be added once the highest-level player reaches successive increments of fifth level. New members must be within sight, must accept the invitation and terms of the EULA, and pass the requisite Free Trial.

  NOTE: Once added, members cannot be removed until their permanent and final death. So choose wisely.

  I read this aloud (in English so Oswald wouldn’t have access to sensitive game information), and then felt the new responsibilities and consequences of being “clan leader” settle on my shoulders like a cloak of lead.