First Login

by Kevin Murphy

  Dakkon stopped his exercises and was immediately showered by particles of dust and dirt. He blinked in confusion as he took in his surroundings, all eyes were on him. He was unsure of what had caused the commotion but could read a room well enough to know it was time for him to leave. He quickly gathered himself and walked outside into the bright sun of late morning, then perched himself atop a nearby bench. “What happened?” he thought.

  Dakkon put his hands together as he had inside the bar and used his heat and chill skills, this time with his eyes open and observant. He could feel the movement of air in between them, swirling. He knelt and clamped his fingers together in a small pile of dirt, then placed a small pinch of soil on the bench next to him. Dakkon found that, by swirling the air as he had in the bar, the resulting vortex lifted dirt into the air where it danced and spun between and directly above his hands. “I guess I could see how an hour of that from an unresponsive stranger in the back of a bar might cause a little commotion,” he thought.

  The heating and cooling effect was immensely strengthened, as well. Though he doubted that he could light a fire, Dakkon was certain he could cool a drink down to a satisfying temperature on a hot day. He checked his thermomancy skills:

  |Secondary Class: Thermomancer – 80% Power (from multiclassing)

  |Class Level: 25

  |EXP Until Next Level: [_ 225/6,660 ]

  |Skills:

  |+Thermoregulate – 25— 75% [________________ ]

  |+Heat (Touch) – 18— 22% [_____ ]

  |+Chill (Touch) – 18— 22% [_____ ]

  |+Hotspot (Area) – 1— 0% [ ]

  |+Condense – 1— [______________________]

  Dakkon was shocked. His Thermomancer level was already 25. He had progressed at a pace which far exceeded his expectations. Now, only five levels away from mastery, he was close to earning himself an extra class slot which he could use for combat, all while still having the safety net of a free, unallocated, slot for any particularly rare class he might chance across. What’s more, he had already unlocked two new skills:

  |+Hotspot: This skill allows the caster to warm or cool a designated area. The degree to which an area’s temperature can be altered is dependent on the caster’s Heat and Chill skills. Higher ranks in this skill will increase the ease in maintenance of a heated or cooled area.

  |+Condense: This skill allows the caster to focus their Heat or Chill skill on a small, fixed point creating a more intense burning or freezing temperature.

  Dakkon took out his canteen and poured a small amount of water into his hand. He closed his palm and focused on a single point in the center of it. A frosty chill bit him and he opened his hand to reveal an irregularly shaped lump of ice. That was it. Dakkon now knew how Chillwane, the master who taught him thermomancy, was able to start files and heat an entire room to sweltering temperatures. It wasn’t simply an extremely high level of skill, but different skills which allowed for an increase in effect. Dakkon melted the ice, and for the first time felt some degree of satisfaction from his first choice in classes. It wouldn’t hold him down for much longer, and it might even prove rather nice to have some mastery over the elements.

  “Dakkon?” a voice tugged at Dakkon’s mind. “It’s Roth. You’re finally back on, eh?”

  Dakkon thought about Roth and felt the strange sensation of a nontangible string pulling taut from within his mind. “Hey, Roth,” communicated Dakkon. “How are you?”

  “Great, thanks to that quest of ours last week. You ought to check your messages, the others got worried when you hadn’t logged back in after a day.”

  That’s right. He had promised to meet back up with them. Dakkon winced. “Sorry about that, I died in a cave collapse and then got a little caught up with things.”

  “We thought that might’ve been the case. Everything good on your end?” asked Roth.

  “Yeah things are going pretty smoothly for me. What happened with the group?”

  “We met back up then headed off towards Turlin to the northwest,” said Roth. “We did a few quests together, but then had to log out for one reason or another. Cline said he was going to press on and so we sort of split up.”

  “So, the party is more or less dissolved for now, huh?” Dakkon asked.

  “Well, Mina, Melee, and I are back together doing quests in the area. We’re already level 26, thanks in no small part to a windfall of gear we bought after the quest reward from driving out the goatmen was doubled.”

  “Wow. I’m still level 14,” Dakkon replied.

  “You’d better catch up some, then. With that dagger, it shouldn’t take you too long. If you make it up to Turlin soon, we’ve got a spot reserved for you,” relayed Roth.

  “Awesome. I’ve just got a few things to take care of down here first.”

  “No worries. Melee is a little cross since you never got back to her, so it couldn’t hurt to give her a few days to simmer down,” said Roth through the telepathic link.

  “Hah. Right. Thanks for the heads up,” Dakkon replied.

  “Again, no worries. We’re off to do some hunting,” said Roth.

  “Ok. Take care,” finished Dakkon before the taut string sensation vanished. “I’ll have to keep an eye out for messages.”

  Dakkon looked at his friends list and it showed that all four of his previous companions were online and that by each of their names there was a small envelope-shaped icon that both wiggled slightly and pulsed a green light from around its border. He spent a few minutes reading each one and felt a pang of shame for not looking into them sooner. Melee and Mina would be clued in by now via Roth that he was well, but Cline was separated from them.

  Dakkon thought about Cline’s visage in an attempt to contact him, and thought the words, “Cline, I’m back on. How are things on your end?” But no connection was ever formed. “He must be busy,” thought Dakkon. Playing with his ‘Friends’ window he discovered how to send a message and wrote, “Hey Cline, I died and got forced out of the game for a few days. I’m still level 14 and have a few things to take care of down here. I’m probably going to head up towards Turlin after that. How’s the bow?” Within thirty seconds, Dakkon heard the sound of a lightly ringing bell.

  [New message from Cline.]

  Dakkon opened and read:

  |Sender: Cline

  |Sorry, I’ve got whispers turned off. The bow is AMAZING. I’m level 31 and kicking some SERIOUS ASS. Get on my level -Cline.

  Dakkon chuckled to himself and decided he’d have to do just that.

  Though he was now equipped with the ability to make ice cubes and start fires, Dakkon wanted to get a feel for his other new skill. Hotspot sounded straightforward. He could heat or cool an area just as the thermomancer master had. Could he attach it to a moving object though? After a bit of testing he found that, yes, he could. Perhaps one day that might empower his attacks. Dakkon could attempt to heat or cool an area of any size he could see. He could even select areas not immediately within his reach, but the skill was limited by complexity. An area the size of a breadbox was trivial to him even at first level. He could maintain an area of that size for as long as he wished. Adding a second hotspot of the same size was much more difficult, however. Plus, the larger the size of his hotspot, the more it drained him. On a whim, Dakkon tried to heat the area of the entire square he was sitting in, only to find himself immediately manaless and no warmer than when he started. He even felt a slight chill which he assumed was the result of spending his mana too quickly. Dakkon looked at his thermomancer skill levels and noticed that not only had Hotspot gone up by half a level, but Heat, Chill, and Thermoregulate had increased some as well. Dakkon could use Hotspot, and Condense he assumed, to level up his older abilities.

  Dakkon created a warm Hotspot about the size of his head and walked halfway around Correndin, monitoring his mana as he did so. He found no additional strain due to distance, a tidbit that would no doubt prove invaluable. Dakkon next found an area out of the way and created o
ne cool and another warm hotspot, each about the size of his hand, which he could maintain while walking around and set off towards the cartographer’s guild. Dakkon was long overdue for a map and it was high time he did something about that.

  \\\

  Trekking back into the easterly artisan sector of Correndin, Dakkon asked for directions to the cartographer’s guild. Once he arrived, it was a hard location to mistake. The two-story wooden building had been erected in such a way that the foremost wall, standing three meters in front of the others, was shaped like a bowed, once-rolled map that had been pulled open for some giant’s navigation. The top and center of the map-wall was crowned with a compass rose, and to either side of the wall were recessed entrances into the building itself. Dakkon walked into the cartographer’s guild and was met by a steward.

  “What can I do for you, citizen?” asked the steward.

  “I find myself in need of a map,” said Dakkon. “I’ve been told there’s no better place than here to find one.”

  “Right you are. What kind of map will you be needing?” the steward asked.

  “A map of the region. Detailed. Preferably with points of interest such as caves and dangerous areas marked. I’d like to browse your selection if at all possible,” Dakkon said.

  “I’m afraid we don’t let just anyone browse the repository at their leisure,” replied the steward. “There’s also the matter of payment. The sort of map you’re looking for doesn’t come cheap. You may be better off learning the cartography trade and creating your own than outright buying one, if you’ve got a knack for adventure.”

  Although Dakkon would have gladly accepted a cartography role before, now that he was an edgemaster, he couldn’t waste class slots on something so mundane. Who knew how long it would take to become a master cartographer. Years, possibly. “That’s quite all right,” said Dakkon. “How much would a very detailed map cost? It doesn’t need to show within Correndin to any great detail but routes should be as detailed as possible and expand well beyond Turlin.”

  “Very well then,” said the steward. “Before I hunt for your prize, how much are you willing to spend?”

  “How much would such a map cost?” asked Dakkon.

  “That entirely depends on the level of detail you desire. We have many maps from many guild cartographers. You could spend as little as five gold for a sloppy creation, or as much as 500 platinum.”

  Dakkon would have felt sick spending 50 gold on a map, but the steward was claiming they had maps worth a thousand times that. “What makes a map worth 500 platinum?” he said after steeling himself.

  “Our finest cartographers are very skillful and the information on their maps has been verified by the guild to an accuracy of 95 percent.” The steward beamed.

  “Then would you have detailed maps of that area that have yet to be verified so thoroughly?” asked Dakkon.

  Looking a bit displeased, the steward responded, “We have many. There are many fledgling map makers, many more who cannot pay the guild fee to have their maps verified, and even some who make fantastic claims which wouldn’t be verified even if they paid.”

  “How much would a map from that last category cost me?” asked Dakkon. “The maps with fantastic claims that are nonetheless detailed, that is.”

  “Please consider that their information will not be endorsed by the guild and they are likely to lead you astray, should you follow them with any seriousness,” remarked the steward.

  “That’s fine, how much?”

  “We can sell them to you for 10-20 gold. Would you like me to fetch one for you?” asked the steward.

  “Bring several,” said Dakkon. “I’d like to give them a quick look over before selecting one.”

  “Very well,” the steward said and then disappeared into a back room.

  After only five minutes, the steward returned and set twelve maps on a large, lightly-colored wooden table for inspection. Dakkon looked at the maps, examining their level of detail. A tugging sensation from somewhere in his gut drew him towards a medium-sized but very poorly drawn one, extravagantly signed in the bottom corner by its creator, Ril. For some reason he liked it, although it didn’t really tell him anything of immediate value. It appeared as though someone had traveled around and marked things they had seen, or claimed to have seen. It was of such low quality that it could easily have been made by someone who had never even left the city, and just wanted to try their hand at making a few quick gold from selling a map. Dakkon selected the most detailed map of the bunch, meticulously drawn with names of locations abundant, and laid it next to the poorly drawn one. Several key points overlapped between the maps. Dakkon made his decision.

  “How much is this one?” he held up the most detailed map. “Or this one?” Dakkon then pointed towards the crude one.

  “25 gold for the first one,” said the steward. “The second for five.”

  “I’ll give you 27 for the pair of them,” pushed Dakkon.

  “We do not barter in an institution so fine as—” the steward trailed off as he looked at the unpolished, second scroll that Dakkon had selected. “Very well, two gold for the second… map,” he spoke the word with an air of contempt, “is a fair price.”

  “Deal,” said Dakkon. He paid the steward and collected his two new maps.

  \\\

  While he was shopping in the area, Dakkon knew it would be a good idea to buy some gear. Of which, there were many choices he could make. The average character could wear a headpiece, a tunic, chest armor on top of that, leggings, vambraces, boots, gloves, a cloak, a bag, eight rings, an amulet, and an assortment of trinkets and pouches. Currently Dakkon wore boots, pants, a shirt, a bag, a cloak, and not much else. He worried that buying armor might leave him with something he’d have to replace soon. If he bought a few powerful rings however, he would have less to worry about when a better piece of armor crossed his path in the future. He scoured markets and craft halls in search or rings, stopping only once to regenerate his mana and create two new Hotspots to continue his training.

  Every second or third merchant had at least one ring to sell, and at a variety of prices Dakkon suspected were anything but a good deal. It made sense. With an item that small, a merchant could afford to hold out for a buyer who would pay their asking price. Dakkon found a plethora of rings to choose from. The most common type of ring in his price range modified stats. There was an abundance of rings for each and every stat except for luck. Dakkon found this somewhat odd, even if the stat was unpopular. His curiosity drove him to try and find out just how rare a luck item might be, and if he found a lucky item, whether or not it could be sold for a premium. No matter how hard he searched, there wasn’t a luck increasing ring to be found.

  After hours of haggling and comparing merchant’s prices for rings, Dakkon advanced his bargain hunting tactics by heading directly to crafting hubs in hopes that he could buy some rings directly from a manufacturer. After making the switch, it didn’t take long for Dakkon to find a player holed up in the back of a workshop who was in the process of casting new rings. A blue nametag identified the crafter as Denden.

  “How powerful are those silver rings you’re making?” Dakkon asked of the crafter after he’d finished a ring and dropped it into a third-full bucket near his feet.

  Looking somewhat relieved to take a break from his task, Denden wiped the sweat from his brow and replied, “These are only +3 rings. I can make them for any stat, save stamina as I haven’t learned the etchings for it yet, but it takes about 20 minutes per ring.”

  “Oh. That seems like it could get tedious. I don’t suppose you’ve made any luck rings?” Dakkon’s inflection made for an inquisitive tone.

  “Luck? I take it you’re no crafter,” Denden eyed him speculatively. “No one buys luck-based anything. I’d be losing money on my materials if I did that.”

  “That bad, huh? Then, I guess their scarcity won’t translate into value?” sighed Dakkon.

  “They’re
cheap but almost nobody sells them. If you want luck rings, you’d be better off scouting around dungeons or quests for luck equipment than buying them off merchants. Even the NPCs don’t carry items that won’t sell.”

  “That makes sense to me,” said Dakkon. “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to sell some agility rings to me?”

  “I could do a custom order +3 agility ring for 30 gold if you want. Like I said, it’ll take 20 minutes per ring and you’ll have to pay me up front,” said Denden. “I’ve also got a pile of +3 strength rings I can sell you for a modest 20 gold a piece. They’re worth 30 easily, but I just want to cover the cost of materials and a bit for my time is all.”

  “If it’s not too forward, how much do materials cost you?” asked Dakkon

  “Well you have the material itself, the moldings, the etching tools, and a magical reagent that accounts for the stat bonus itself,” said Denden. “I can make the reagents as I’m something of a wizard in my own right, but all said and done it probably costs 75 gold to make your first silver ring, then 12 or so gold for every one after that.”

  “Would you need a different reagent for making agility vs strength rings?” Dakkon asked with interest.

  “Nah, that’s where the etching comes in. You need the right reagent for the right metal, and working with it is tricky business,” said Denden. “Truth be told I could probably make a ring in 10 minutes if I rushed, but if I messed up I’d have tainted silver and wasted reagents. I’d be out eight of the 12 gold and no better off for it.”

  “That actually sounds pretty interesting,” said Dakkon truthfully. “I’d love to watch you make a few rings if you wouldn’t mind us coming up with a compromise.”

  “What sort of compromise did you have in mind?” asked Denden.

  “Since stamina seems to be off the table, how about three agility rings and one of strength, dexterity, and intellect for 100 gold?” suggested Dakkon.