A Slave in the Locked Lands

by Arthur Stone

  “I’ll place their meat in their coat pockets and inform them as much on the forum. I’ll also tell them they’d have to get in touch with me for more, and when I’ll distribute it.”

  “Are you sure there’ll be enough to distribute?”

  “How should I know? It all depends on you. I can but hope and pray.”

  “Don’t tell anyone I got the meat.”

  “I won’t.”

  “And as soon as you sort things out up there, get down here and look after Danger Babe.”

  “I will. I’ll help you.”

  The norder came back in some fifteen minutes. He sat down upon his favorite rock, took out a piece of meat, and bit into it.

  “It’s a bit burned.”

  “I had to cook it over an open fire.”

  “It’s fine. You’re right—the important thing is that you can eat it without getting repulsed.”

  “Will you stay here?”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Down the mine.”

  “On your own? As far as I understand, it will be tough for you without Danger Babe.”

  “My level isn’t that high. I don’t mind losing XP if they kill me.”

  “Well, it’s your game. I’ll stay here. If anyone comes to get the girl, I’ll be the first to die.”

  * * *

  Ros didn’t go too far. He sat down, leaned against the wall, and tried to recollect all the intricacies of the process he was about to get into.

  It was time to get down to some serious enchanting.

  What did he know? Pure theory. There were two main kinds of enchantments. The first involved investing a lot of mana and Vigor to make the item assume one of the properties from a long list. He’d been doing exactly that all day long, and had even managed to level his Enchanting to 7.

  The method’s main advantage was that it raised the skill quickly, provided one had enough mana and Vigor. The disadvantages were as follows: low-level and very basic effects. You could, for instance, add a bonus to Intellect, but it wouldn’t be any higher than three points. At least that was how it was at low Enchanting levels—the stats would grow along with the skill.

  The other drawback was a lot more unpleasant. You’d have to make the enchantment effect list yourself, depending on the level of enchantment and that of the item. Even the best enchanters had a list with more than a hundred effects, most of which were total junk or the next worst thing.

  To sum up, the first method was a lottery with cheap prizes. On the other hand, you didn’t have to invest much.

  The second method involved a special ingredient—namely, a soul crystal. The only ones who could procure those were the representatives of a few races, as well as some hybrids who had mastered a special spell from the Darkness or Death schools of magic. Finally, the skill was available to mages who had allied themselves with the Powers of Evil or Shadowy Hatred. In the former two cases, the player was faced with the problem of being unable to learn almost any other skill due to conflicts. In the latter case, the reputation issues were serious enough that the guards in any city could jail you or simply kill you on sight.

  The chance of getting a crystal from a mob depended on the level of the corresponding skills, which were a devil to raise, as well as a bunch of other stats. One would have to spend half a year to get it up to so much as twenty percent. Apart from that, it was near-impossible to do on one’s own, so the crystal-farmers would normally end up in one of the top clans, where they would join the ranks of those who kept searching for crystals the clan’s enchanters could use, day after day.

  Whatever crystals were procured outside of that, their amount would be negligible. Lower-level necromancers and the like were another source for low-level crystals. The noobs’ chances weren’t especially high, but they still managed to get hold of one every now and then.

  A crystal’s level was an arbitrary value. The higher the level of the mob killed to create it, the more power it had. Even better if the mobs were elite or enhanced.

  The strongest bosses made the best crystals, which was why several necromancers would normally be taken along to farm them—they knew that business best. Their mere presence increased the likelihood of a crystal dropping.

  The second enchantment method required the item to be enchanted, a soul crystal, and a special ability you could get at any Mages’ Guild. It didn’t require much mama, and took a minute to recharge at level 1.

  Upon a mob’s death, every crystal would get a random set of stats. With luck, one or several of these stats could be transferred to the item. The stat value varied wildly, however. In other words, the enchanted item’s Intellect could grow by one or by fifty—it all depended on chance and the enchanter’s skill.

  Chosing a stat from the list, Ros activated the spell, and mentally prayed or hoped for luck.

  It was a common conviction, an enchanter needed luck more than anybody else. That much was obvious. After all, in case of bad luck, the item would become damage or altogether destroyed. This method was less likely to succeed as well. And no one liked losing expensive items.

  The chance of receiving the maximum bonus depended on the level of the item being enchanted. The enchanting process could also raise an item’s level or change its properties, including the enchanted gems set inside.

  That was where Ros’ knowledge of theory ended—a lot of the really complex formulae made by the players for reasons unknown were beyond him.

  Earlier in the day, he’d spent lots of silver and tantalum ore pieces making metal fragments, and had crafted around a hundred rings from those. Only eight had turned out to be enhanced, and those were the ones he decided to start with.

  “Soul Crystal. Trapped creature: Grey Moss Dweller. Trapped creature level: 148. See the expanded menu for more details on stats. Special stats: enhanced creature. Stats: Agility, Stamina, Fire Resistance, Critical Hit Chance, Vigor Regeneration.”

  Inasmuch as Ros could understand, there was nothing special about the crystal. The more expensive ones were those with secondary base stats. And those with the auxiliary variety could fetch truly exorbitant prices, provided the stats were useful.

  A crystal in his left hand, and a ring in his right. Activating Enchant was the only thing left.

  “Attention! Do you really want to enchant the Silver Archer Ring? Yes/No.”

  “Yes.”

  “Choose one of the soul crystal’s properties. Attention! The item in question is guaranteed to take a single effect. When you choose two or more properties, the chance of failure increases.”

  Ros chose Vigor, confirmed it, and confirmed once more his wish to add the enchantment effect to the ring.

  “Item received: Enchanted Silver Archer’s Ring. Item quality: Enhanced. Additional stats: +1 to Accuracy, +1 to Agility, and +1 to Rate of Fire. Enchantment effect: +5 to Stamina. Requirements: level 19. Weight: 0.01 kg. Durability: 90/90”.

  His first success. The ring’s properties remained the same, apart from the slightly raised level requirement.

  Ros kept on flushing his mana to make new rings. A Black Moss Dweller caught him at it, and got into a fight with his pet. After the battle, the mob’s carcass was dismembered and placed into the bag to be cooked tomorrow.

  He’d need lots of meat now, since he couldn’t well tell Tangh to take a hike anymore. The norder was rather strange—Ros found it hard to argue with him, and didn’t really want to.

  He tried to apply two effects when enchanting the next ring, but to no avail—the ring broke. Hardly surprising. His Enchanting was at 7, which was nowhere near high enough. The resources used for the ring were cheap, too—their level was enhanced at best, which kept his chances low.

  He tried to use tantalum instead.

  “Item received: Enchanted Silver Sage’s Ring. Properties: merging. Item quality: Good. Additional stats: +4 to Intellect, +1 to Luck, +1 to mana regeneration per second. Enchantment effect: +7 to Intellect. Requirements: Level 28. Weight: 0.01 kg. Dur
ability: 120/120.”

  Ros couldn’t help flashing a smug grin. The ring quality became higher, and the initial two points to Intellect turned into one point to Mental Power and increased mana regeneration. The enchantment effect was also better than the first time—seven instead of five.

  His most modest assumptions were that he could sell the ring for no less than a hundred and fifty gold. Not exactly a treasure, but a fine enough item, given the circumstances.

  That was the last time Ros got lucky, only managing to make six enchanted rings since, and none anywhere near as good as the second.

  He tried to stay close to the mine entrance as he mined for resources and killed mobs for crystals and loot. Whenever he got tired, he’d sit and rest in a safe place, using his pet as a guard. As he got back to the forum, he learned that Digits hadn’t been idle. He was selling their common loot, and accused Ros of chasing skirts even as a slave instead of doing his fair share of work. Ros replied briefly with some of the local realities, checking in on the game periodically—his pet was too weak to keep so much as a single beast at bay for long.

  Ralia remained in the headlines. Top clans boasted about new mobs discovered as they fought the invading army, as well as loot no one had ever seen before, while suffering colossal losses against the vicious new beasts. No attempts to rebuff the enemy succeeded—most of the province was already occupied, and neither chats nor teleports worked on the captured territory.

  None of the information was new, or least unexpected. It had been a productive day, and he could go to sleep with a clear conscience.

  Ros’ sleep was interrupted twice to help his pet fight off an attacker. It was a good thing he had access to a highly customizable alarm clock. Thanks to the device, as soon as his pet or party member was attacked, the alarm would “ring,” rousing him awake at once.

  * * *

  The pet yawned heartily, demonstrating a double set of sharp fangs, and stretched out on the floor of the cave, paying no attention to the stranger who had appeared out of nowhere.

  Then again, why a stranger? Ros had already seen him, and had even conversed with his once.

  Of course, the guy had never introduced himself, so, sure, a stranger he was.

  He still looked the same. All wrapped in a silvery cape, so the only thing you could see was a rather unusual face. One half looked hewn out of rosy stone, with a dignified and even arrogant expression—a Sphinx of a sort. The other half looked withdrawn and strict—icy, even; not a hint of the heat of Egyptian sands anywhere. If you paid close attention, you could see thin lines dividing it into many squares.

  One’s thinking is usually rather strange in one’s sleep, but right then Ros felt absolute clarity of thought. Remembering the past encounter perfectly well, he decided not to waste any time on unnecessary questions or musings on the meaning of events, getting right down to the nitty-gritty.

  “Is this a dream, or have you come with more good advice?”

  “I don’t give advice. I give presents. You should know as much by now.”

  Ros realized he was about to receive information. In that case, he could perhaps try to get some answers. There had been no mentions of any such visitors on the forum, which made these encounters all the more intriguing.

  “Who are you?”

  “Just a digital phantom from the depths of what you call Second World.”

  “Just like me.”

  “Just like everybody here.”

  “Could you elaborate on that? What kind of a phantom are you, exactly?”

  “Divulging any additional information on this issue would be considered as direct interference into your gaming process. This would be unacceptable.”

  “Aren’t you meddling now?”

  “I am. But this is what we could call a lesser evil. You only get what you need. And you decide for yourself just what you intend to do with the information you get. Freedom of choice is important, too.”

  “Do you have that a name, at least?”

  “It is of no relevance currently. You have become stronger. And you keep on influencing the world. That factor was predictable enough.”

  “I still don’t understand.”

  “You don’t need to understand. You just need to accept my gifts.”

  “Very well, let’s get on with the gift-giving…”

  “My gifts are words.”

  “And?”

  “Second World does not suffer weaklings. You must become stronger.”

  “You reckon I’m weak?”

  “You are. You don’t use your abilities to their full potential. Your existence within this game is tantamount to stagnation.”

  “What about all my successes? I’m a hero, and I have a ton of stats. I’ve also unlocked Enchanting, which I’m now leveling as fast as I can.”

  “That’s not enough. You’re not using all your abilities. You could be much stronger. Contemplate my words.”

  “Sure, I’ll do that.”

  “That’s not all. Second World does not suffer loners, either. You will need a team. You’ve made good progress in that respect—you’re not alone anymore. Keep on the right track and avoid mistakes. You have made no critical mistakes so far—all the candidates you’ve chosen are effective. You have recruited the best players you’d been given access to. But I cannot mind every new member of your team. You need to take a measured decision every time. And remember that you will face plenty of challenges that will prove beyond your own capacity. Take care of your team. Make it stronger and more balanced. As for me, I’ll take care of protecting it to the best of my ability.”

  “Protect it from what?”

  “I cannot protect it from every danger you’ll face in Second World—that would be meddling. Your actions have affected certain powers in the world we know as the Third, and they will take great measures to protect their interests. Which means that not a single living creature of this world is truly safe.”

  “And how do you intend to protect us all?”

  “They have a vulnerability. They depend on information too much. Information is full of variables whose value changes. And I am the one who brings change.”

  “This is way over my head…”

  “You don’t need to understand. You have received my gift. Now you may sleep easily. The natural kind of sleep.”

  “So, this dream is unnatural?”

  “It is. School of Reason magical suppression.”

  “So, some unknown entity’s meddling in the game again…”

  “Exactly right. It was inevitable. I’ll be leaving now. The location will unfreeze in one hundred fifty seconds. The dungeon denizens’ short-term migration algorithm has been altered—not a single monster will appear in your vicinity until morning. You may sleep now.”

  Chapter 16

  The alarm rang for the third time right before dawn. Ros jumped up, surprised—after all, the stranger had told him everything would be peaceful. He grabbed his staff and surveyed his surroundings: the pet was in the usual place, and there were no mobs to be seen anywhere.

  Why the alarm, then?

  He cursed and rushed toward the exit. Tangh’s icon in the party menu was flashing red, signaling that the player was under attack. And he had already lost over half his HP. Danger Babe’s HP bar was also far from full, so both of them must have been taking damage.

  He commanded his pet to freeze at the exit, trying to make sense of what was going on as he ran. A tense Tangh stood in front of a frozen Danger Babe. It looked as though the giant was trying to protect her against some threat from above with his body. Ros raised his head and saw a short figure wielding a curved bow right above them.

  HedTeSdjo! The very bastard who had tried to shoot at Ros back at the smoking walls of Arbenne. Where had he managed to find a bow, and what did he want?

  The little swine fired another shot just as Ros thrust his hand forward to cast a shield on the norder. He was only a fraction of a second late—Tangh’s icon flashed red
one last time before turning grey, and the big man went down, falling to one side.

  Ros only had a single shield skill, and a pretty noobish one at that, but it would suffice for a single arrow, and it didn’t take long to cast. He used it on Danger Babe, and then cast Sleep on the archer. His ability level was too low, and the distance too great, but the combination of his target’s lack of equipment and Ros’ high Intellect were bound to make it work.

  HedTeSdjo froze before he could fully draw his bow.

  So, what next? Getting up there would mean running from the bottom of the crater to the very top. The prick would manage to kill the defenseless Danger Babe before Ros got anywhere near the top of the meandering path. Could he send his pet to deal with the adversary? No—he was already considered weird, and should anyone mention it on the forum that the meat for those stuck in captivity was coming from a strange necromancer, even an idiot would be able to identify him. It would also take the pet too long to get up there.