by C. M. Carney
“He’s dead,” Heleracon said as if it were nothing. She sliced a piece of the apple and eased it past her full lips.
“Dead?” Lex squealed in alarm.
“Yeah, dead.”
“What do you mean dead?” Gryph asked.
“As in dead,” Heleracon twitched her neck to the side, closed her eyes, and pulled up on an imaginary noose that made her tongue loll out of her mouth. “No longer of this world. Pushing up the daisies. Gone to meet his maker.”
“How can I worship a dead god?”
Heleracon shrugged. “Got me, never met one.”
“Great. So, I’m a midget priest of a dead god.”
“Technically a midget is four-foot ten or less. And I do believe that term has fallen out of favor,” Heleracon said, slipping another slice of apple into her mouth with a crunch.
Lex glared and hefted his hammer again.
“Let’s not get caught up in semantics,” Gryph said. “Is there a way we can fix him?”
“Fix me?” Lex raged. “There’s nothing wrong with me.”
Gryph wasn’t about to get into that debate and looked at Heleracon, repeating the question.
“Nope. I told you, no returns, no exchanges.”
“Okay, buddy,” Gryph said stooping down to get eye level with Lex. “There’s gotta be a reason for all this.”
“Always is,” Heleracon said. “The Source always has its reasons.”
Gryph didn’t know what to make of that and kept his attention on Lex. “You and me against the Realms. Right, buddy?” Gryph held out his hand and, after a moment, Lex grumbled and took it. Gryph’s massive hand swallowed up Lex's.
“This isn’t helping,” Lex said. “Nor is the kneeling thing you got going on.”
“Sorry,” Gryph said, standing back at his full height.
“Or maybe it was,” Lex muttered.
Gryph sighed and returned his attention to the goddess. “You said you had some gifts?”
“Oh yeah, good memory you got, honey.” She shook her shoulders and much of the snark seemed to drain from her. She cleared her throat and started a speech that seemed both pre-written and filled with user agreement style language.
“Congratulations, player,” Heleracon said. “As a purchaser of the Deluxe Beta Preorder, you have been awarded an Upgraded Starter Pack. This includes a minor magic weapon, a minor piece of magical equipment, and a bonus potion pack. These items are influenced by your skill set and Attribute Points distribution trends. Note, in game treasure and loot awards are also influenced by your skill set and Attribute Points distribution trends.”
Before Gryph had time to miss the real Heleracon, her old personality came back. “Cuz getting a kick ass war hammer when you’re a knives and spear guy would just be no fun, now would it?” She winked at Lex, who scowled and gripped his hammer with white knuckles.
Prompts filled Gryph’s vision.
You have been awarded an El’Edryn Swift Spear (Spear)
Item Class: Base - Item Category: Active.
Base Dmg: 12 (+2 Base Item Bonus).
Active Powers.
Power (1): Quick Strike. 1% chance per point of mana spent to gain a second attack that automatically hits.
Mana Limit: 1% - Cool Down: 5 minutes.
The preferred weapon of high elf warriors, the swift spear is lightweight and imbued with powers that make it a weapon capable of dealing quick and deadly attacks.
You have been awarded a Belt of Deftness
Item Class: Base - Item Category: Passive.
Passive Powers.
Power (1): +3 to Dexterity.
This fine leather belt was cured with an oil infused with Quickvine Sap.
You have been awarded a Soul Bound Satchel of Holding
Item Class: Base - Item Category: Passive.
Passive Powers.
Power (1): Weight Reduction. Reduces the weight of stored items by 95%.
Power (2): Stasis Field. Items will remain in their current state for as long as they remain in the satchel.
Power (3): Soul Bound. This item is Soul Bound and cannot be lost or stolen.
Power (4) Auto sort. This item will automatically sort and categorize anything put into it.
This fine leather satchel is, in fact, a portal to a pocket dimension. It can hold a vast amount of inventory and is useful for hauling loot and treasure.
You have been awarded a Bonus Potion Pack. Two Potions of Minor Health (50 points to Health). Two Potions of Minor Stamina (50 points to Stamina). Two Potions of Minor Mana (50 points to Mana). One Potion of Cure Disease.
“Sweet toys, dude,” Lex said.
He glanced into his satchel to see he also had a coil of rope, five standard rations, a torch, a locksmith kit, and a bag that contained ten gold coins, whose value he did not understand how to calculate in real world terms. Gryph smiled down on him but had to admit the equipment was pretty impressive.
“Your very own Boy Scout survival pack,” Lex said.
“Now that you’ve both got your gift basket, it’s time for you to move on. The boss wants to give you a nice send off.”
The world around Gryph and Lex faded and a dim new one came to the fore. It was as if they transitioned to a new scene in a movie in a dissolve. Gryph watched Heleracon sway away. She must have felt his gaze because she looked back over her shoulder and gave him a wink. Then Heleracon and the Source Forge disappeared, and Gryph was back atop the mountain overlooking the world.
“Are you ready, player?” a familiar and unwelcome voice boomed.
12
The booming voice caused Lex to jump in surprise, nearly toppling off the side of the peak. Gryph grabbed him by the scruff of his robes and held him secure. The diminutive NPC grunted his thanks.
“Thanks, man. I don’t like being this high up,” Lex said before realizing he’d just mocked his small stature. He gave Gryph a ‘don’t say it’ look and Gryph stifled a smile.
“Are you ready, player? Ready to serve me? Ready to rid this world of evil?”
Gryph and Lex turned to see the avatar of the High God Aluran once again. The experience with the other gods had done nothing to diminish the power and potency of this man turned god. Part of Gryph still knew that he was merely Alistair Bechard, CEO of Sacrosanct Integrative Networks, but here and now, he knew that if he wished it, Aluran could crush him like the smallest of bugs.
“I am ready to do what is necessary to protect those who cannot protect themselves and to rid the Realms of evil,” Gryph said, forcing defiance into his vow.
Aluran turned his head an inch, his gaze boring into Gryph’s eyes. Did he detect a hint of suspicion in the High God’s face? Was his assumption right? Was this man simply an avatar and not the real thing? After a moment, Aluran nodded.
“Your pledge is accepted and archived,” Aluran said before turning his gaze on Lex. Lex just grinned until Gryph nudged him.
“Um, yeah,” Lex said giving a wink and a hearty thumbs up. “Ready to serve. Excited to thrash evil and junk.”
“Your pledge is accepted and archived,” Aluran said again.
The High God waved his hand, and a doorway appeared and opened. On the other side lay a pleasant village. People walked to and fro, buying and selling wares in an open-air market. Smoke rose from the chimney of a pleasant inn carrying the smell of cooking food to Gryph’s nose. His stomach grumbled, and he realized he was starving.
“Don your armor, equip your weapons, and prepare to enter the Realms. Adventure and glory await.”
Gryph opened his inventory and surveyed the contents. On the left stood a representation of him. It was a crude avatar that allowed him to see what he looked like with various clothing, armor, and weapons equipped. In a world with few mirrors, was this was the way people in the Realms checked themselves before going out for the day?
His avatar wore a rough-spun tunic, pants, bracers, gloves, and a hat. Each provided him with a measly 1 point of armor class (AC), bu
t he supposed they were better than nothing. He buckled his Belt of Deftness around his waist and felt more energized as his Dexterity jumped by three points.
Gryph sheathed his dagger and hooked it to his belt next to the coil of rope. He equipped his El’Edryn Swift Spear and his avatar did a few test spins and a thrust before settling back. Each potion stacked in a single spot based upon type, no matter how many he had. Nice perk, he thought.
He reached up to close his inventory window when something at the bottom sparkled and caught his interest. The mote of energy came into focus and a prompt filled his vision.
Prime Godhead
Tier: 0.
Item Class: Mote of Creation
Item Category: Unknown.
Base Dmg: Unknown.
Base AC: Unknown.
Active Powers.
Unknown.
Passive Powers.
Power (1): Gift of Tongues: Understand any language heard.
Further Power(s): Unknown.
Mana Limit: Unknown - Cool Down: Unknown.
A Prime Godhead is a mote of creation.
You Have Learned the Skill IDENTIFY
Level: 1 - Tier: - Base Skill Type: Passive
You have shown an ability to identify items you find. You can now identify non-magical and Base Tier magical items and will know their stats and abilities. You are able to identify the tier of any magical item, but you will not know their stats and abilities. A new Tier opens every 10 levels.
“What the hell?” Gryph said in shock.
“What the hell what?” Lex said, idly digging something from his beard.
“I found something weird in my inventory?”
“Weird how?” Lex sniffed the mystery item, his nose scrunching up in distaste.
“Have you ever heard of a Prime Godhead? It says it’s a Divine Artifact, whatever the heck that is.”
Lex’s eyes widened in panic, and he shot a glance at Aluran. The High God’s avatar seemed to pay no attention. Lex cast an odd smile at the god, and then pulled Gryph aside.
“It looks like I can equip it,” Gryph said, his eyes still glazed from examining his inventory.
“No, no, no,” Lex yelled in panic and moved to slap Gryph across the face to force his attention.
The world slowed as Gryph moved the Prime Godhead. It clicked into a glowing slot in the middle of his forehead, the home of the third eye in some ancient mythologies. His mind exploded in a supernova of expansion.
Thin filaments expanded from the Prime Godhead and wormed their way into his body. They traversed and replaced nerves and enhanced neural connections. Gryph screamed.
Time slowed to a crawl. Lex’s hand hovered mere inches from Gryph’s face, but at the pace it would take an hour to find its mark. Aluran's eyes came alive and widened in shock as they moved to look at Gryph.
But Gryph was elsewhere.
He became the Source at the beginning of time. Thought erupted from nowhere into the endless expanse of aether that was all of creation. Eddies and whorls of potentiality popped in and out of existence. The War of Creation had begun.
Gryph’s small mind couldn't understand the experience. His consciousness unraveled as it sought solace, a safe zone amongst primal energies giving birth to reality. A mote of energy, the tiniest fraction of the Source, beckoned and Gryph’s mind fell into it.
Gryph fell into ease, and he stopped screaming. His eyes opened as the Prime Godhead, a Mote of Creation itself completed its integration. He saw Lex’s wide eyes and outstretched hand. He also saw Aluran's gaze on him. Not the empty shell that had directed his character creation. This was the real Aluran, Bechard himself. He was also something else, something more ancient than both, and terror filled its eyes.
Time returned to normal, and Lex’s hand slapped across his face. The pain barely registered. Aluran had all of Gryph's attention. Gryph's body surged with energy and he knew what must be done. With all his strength, Gryph shoved his NPC through the doorway into the Realms. As Lex stumbled through the threshold he screamed.
“No!”
Once Gryph was sure that Lex would make it through the portal, he charged after him. But Aluran moved quicker than he could have imagined and blocked the doorway. The High God raised his sword and swung a blow that would have taken Gryph’s head clean off had he not predicted the move and tucked and rolled past the enraged god.
Gryph was past Aluran and sprinted towards the door. The High God raised his sword and pointed the tip at Gryph’s back. With a word in some ancient language, a bolt of multi-chromatic energy erupted from the tip. Gryph dove, hit the ground hard, and slid towards the portal. On the other side, Lex sprawled on his back, his short legs upended. A scene that would have been hilarious under different circumstances.
Gryph’s skid would take him through the portal, as well, and he cheered in triumph. Then Aluran's bolt hit the surface of the doorway. It pulsed and morphed and changed to a stark desert, then a deep ocean, and then a camp in the mountains. Then back to the village with Lex back on his feet, yelling soundlessly. When Lex saw Gryph he tried to jump back through the portal, but as he touched the threshold energy coursed through the short Ordonian’s body and knocked him to the ground.
Another bolt of energy hit the floor near Gryph, and his body seized in pain. He felt as if he’d been electrocuted and the bolt hadn’t even hit him. Gryph saw his red health bar dip by nearly 30% as he stood and ran towards the portal, his muscles tightening in spasms.
Gryph jumped as the air became heavy with energy again. He passed through the threshold just as the portal switched to somewhere dark.
13
Gryph’s mind warped as he sluiced through an aperture into another universe. He felt a heart that was not his own pounding. The real Aluran had seen him. The being who attacked him was not some computer-generated welcoming committee, but a powerful avatar filled with malevolent intent.
It had to be the Godhead. Lex had freaked when he heard the name. The fear that showed in his amiable and immature NPC’s eyes had been downright terrifying. That look, bereft of any humor or jest was the most unnerving sight of Gryph’s new life. Even Finn Caldwell, who had seen many a horrible deed in his life, rarely experienced such terror.
Gryph was trapped. He feared he would be in this weightless, bodiless state forever. Then he hit a stone floor with enough force to crack ribs, expel air, and bruise muscles. For a few seconds, Gryph couldn't breathe and his entire world was pain.
Gryph’s lungs burned. To say the wind had been knocked out of him was like saying decapitation was a mild inconvenience. He believed he'd never draw breath again. A few moments passed before he pulled in a short burst of air full of pain, relief, and an awful stench.
“Ouch,” Gryph said through gritted teeth.
Gryph’s health bar flashed in alarm, and he discovered that he had lost another 50% in the fall.
“What the hell was that?” he grumbled, and the pain of broken ribs took his breath away. He moved to grab a health potion but discovered that he couldn't move.
Debuff added: Short term paralysis. Cooldown: 2 minutes.
Gryph starred as the debuff clock counted down in the corner of his vision. He tried to turn his head to find Lex.
“Lex,” Gryph said in a strangled voice. “Hey, Lex, over here.”
There was no response, and Gryph wondered if his NPC was dead, smashed on impact. Perhaps that wasn't a bad thing, Gryph thought and immediately felt guilty. Lex might be the most irritating banner of all time, but he had always been loyal. Maybe his personality would improve now he was a flesh and blood person and a wandering preacher to boot.
Face down in grit and muck, Gryph realized he was in a cave. A dark, dingy, and stinking cave.
In the corner of his vision, his prompt icon blinked. With nothing else to do until the debuffs disappeared, he checked his prompts.
Welcome to the Realms. You have arrived at the starter village of ERROR. You will have a few hours t
o acclimate to your surroundings, become familiar with your new skills, and purchase any additional equipment you may need before joining the Great Quest.
Congratulations player. Endless adventure awaits you.
“What the hell?” Gryph grumbled at the blazing red ERROR message. I’m not where I’m supposed to be. Gryph struggled to move, willing his damaged body to ignore the debuffs. Nothing.
Then he heard a scratching, a scritching of not so tiny claws digging into the rock of the cave floor. It was coming from behind him. Gryph attempted to turn, but his traitor body refusing to obey his commands. The barest tingle in the fingers of his right hand, like the painful pins and needles rush one gets after sleeping on an arm all night, hinted that feeling was slowly returning.
“Shit,” Gryph said aloud, and the scritching stopped. Had he scared the scritcher with his outburst, or was it examining him, waiting and wondering? Was he prey?
The scratching got closer, and Gryph did the only thing he could think of, he made lots of noise. Grunts and howls and expletives of anger poured from Gryph’s parched lips, and he realized just how thirsty he was.
The burning pain of returning sensation moved up his arm, and he made the clumsiest of movement towards the knife at his belt. He'd forgotten it until feeling returned and the pommel dug into his side.
Something the size and weight of a mid-size dog stepped up onto his booted foot and a low growl rumbled through the cave. With tentative steps it crawled up Gryph’s back getting closer and closer to his face. And still he couldn’t move.
The burning sensation of returning blood tore at Gryph’s shoulder, and he was just able to grasp the hilt of the blade with his trembling fingers. The hiss of steel greeted Gryph’s ears as he eased the dagger from its sheath. No sound was ever so welcome.
