by C. M. Carney
Most of the loot was unimpressive, except for the spell stone. As Gryph examined it he wondered why the wyrmynn hadn't used it. Why not learn what sounded like a kick ass spell? He asked Wick.
“Cuz wyrmynn are dumbasses with tiny brains,” the gnome said as he knelt down near one of the wyrmynn and pulled a dagger. Without hesitation, he hacked into the neck of the reptilian corpse. Unnerved, Gryph wondered if he was digging for one of these tiny brains.
“This isn’t bolstering my confidence you're not an evil wizard,” Gryph commented as Wick dug into the necks of the lizard beasts with a dagger.
Wick dug a grisly bit of gore from the wound he’d carved. It was a gland of some kind. “Wyrmynn Adrenaline Glands,” Wick said, as if that explained anything. “Look closer.”
Gryph stared at the bit of gristle and his Harvest skill gave him a prompt.
You have discovered Wyrmynn Adrenaline Gland.
This rare and valuable ingredient has many uses in both alchemy and Crafting.
You believe it could make a potion that will temporarily increase Stamina, Dexterity and Speed and other unidentified effects.
You also get the sense it could craft an item that increases Stamina, Dexterity and Speed and other unidentified effects.
“My girl will love these. She’s an alchemist and great at this stuff,” Wick said. “Among other things,” he added with a wink. “Come with me, she’d be willing to train you up in Alchemy as a thank you for saving my sweet ass.”
Gryph considered the offer for a moment, but he had to escape this place. He needed to find Brynn and defeat Aluran. Once again, he thought on the absurdity of his situation. Here he was, a lone guy who’d never played an RPG or MMO in his life, thrust into a world run by game mechanics, where he was tasked with defeating a god. Gryph inhaled and forced his mind to its task.
“I appreciate it, I really do, but somebody out there needs me. I can’t fail her.”
A look of understanding crossed Wick’s face, and he extended his hand out to Gryph. “Best of luck my friend.”
Gryph shook the gnome’s hand. “To you, as well.” With no further ceremony, Gryph turned and headed towards the tunnel that led towards the entrance. As he got close, Wick called out to him.
“Hey, Gryph.”
Gryph turned back to the gnome.
“See you in your next life,” Wick said with a melancholy look.
With that confusing comment, Wick disappeared down another tunnel. Gryph shook his head in bewilderment, but remembered the gnome was a summoner of demons. Who could say what else was wrong with him?
22
It had been nearly twenty minutes since Gryph had left Wick behind when the doubt wormed its way into his guts. Had he made the right choice to go it alone? What if Wick was right? What if there was no way out?
He pulled his new spell stone from his inventory. It was like the Animate Rope stone he’d found in his starter inventory, except where that one had been a sapphire filled with swirls of white light, this one was anthracite pulsing with sparks of brown energy.
Gryph held it in his closed palm and concentrated. Energy pulsed and flowed from the stone just as it had before, but this time as it flowed up his limbs it made them rigid and heavy as if his body was turning to stone. It flowed up into his neck and settled into his brain. He could hear the grinding and slow cracking of the earth and stone around him and then his mind expanded and filled with knowledge.
You have learned the Flying Stalactite
Sphere: EARTH Magic - Tier: Base.
This spell will conjure a single spear of stone that will fly wherever the caster points. Base Damage: 20 points of Earth damage +2 points per level of Earth Magic mastery.
Mana Cost: 30. Duration: N/A. Cooldown: None.
You have learned the skill EARTH MAGIC
Level: 1 - Tier: Base - Skill Type: Active
You can now wield the power of Earth Magic. Earth Magic allows the user to manipulate the earth itself. Earth Magic makes use of offensive and defensive spells but is also used in mining and to summon or construct creatures made of earth.
Well, that rocks, Gryph thought before realizing he’d made a horrible pun.
Gryph checked the map Wick had given him and took a tunnel that led west. If he was reading the map correctly, he was three hundred feet underground and over a mile of snaking tunnels from his goal.
Not too bad, Gryph thought. There were a ton of skull and crossbones icons of various colors littering his path. Gryph concentrated on a red one not too far from him and a prompt popped into his vision.
Pit Trap; Punji Sticks; Poison.
A few minutes later Gryph found the trap. He could see a faint red glow outlining the pit. This was his Perception skill in action. At level five he had a 25% chance of spotting traps. The dimness of the glow suggested to Gryph that had he not already known the trap was there that he may not have detected it. He made a mental note to be more careful.
Gryph eased himself by the pit trap but couldn’t resist activating it. He applied pressure with the butt of his spear until the ultra-thin stone covering the pit fractured and fell. The pit was nearly ten feet deep and lined with dozens of needle sharp punji sticks. They were not wood, but stone stalagmites that grew from the floor. Their uniformity and even spacing were perfect like rows of corn, suggesting that they had been cultivated. Worse still the needle point tips of each stalagmite oozed viscous liquid.
Poison rocks. Perfect. Who the hell built this place? And why? Gryph wondered. He still didn’t understand why the Barrow tossed death around so casually.
He moved onward. The tunnel took a slight left, and the gradient increased. If the map was accurate, he’d soon hit a large cavern that Wick had marked with half a dozen blue skulls. Gryph focused on a scroll icon in the corner of the room and another prompt emerged.
Wyrmynn Outpost:
Full of stank wyrmynn. At least ten. This is the base from which they patrol our area. I told Tifala that I could summon Avernerius into their midst and Bam, problem solved. She said no and gave me that look. Yah know, the one that says, ‘I love you, but the things you can do terrify me.’ Regardless, they are getting too close and we must do something about them soon.
Who was Wick? Now, Gryph was the first to admit that he knew nothing about the Realms, but even he sensed the odd juxtaposition between the gnome’s jovial personality and the things he could do. Gryph made a mental note to not put too much faith into the map or the gnome who made it. It could cost him his life.
Gryph plotted out another route. It was more circuitous and took him perilously close to unmapped territory, but it had less death’s head icons. He had only seen a small sampling of the terrors this world held, and he was in no hurry to up his experience with them now.
After nearly half an hour, he had snaked his way upwards. He’d activated Stealth on three occasions. Twice as wyrmynn patrols went by and once as a snuffling beast lumbered past his hiding spot. His Analyze skill identified it.
Umber Beast: Level 17; H:235/S:230/M:0/SP:0.
Umber Beasts are a foul mixture of a beetle and a gorilla. Their origins are shrouded in mystery, but most scholars believe the Umber Beast was the product of unnatural magical experiments.
Strengths: Unknown. Immunities: Unknown. Weakness: Unknown.
Gryph decided there was no need to tangle with the beast now, or ever. He gave the creature a few minutes before he continued up the tunnel.
Twenty minutes later he discovered a pressure plate trap that connected to nozzles built into the wall. The nozzles reminded Gryph of the flamethrowers he’d seen back on Earth. He eased slowly by the pressure plate, swearing he could smell an old odor of charred flesh.
He walked for another twenty minutes before coming to a fork in the tunnel. The left-hand tunnel descended, and he could hear the rush moving water. The right eased up at a comfortable gradient.
Gryph chose the right-hand path. Not only could underground rivers
be deadly with their uncontrolled surges, but the sound dredged up memories of the flash flood tunnels under Las Vegas. His unit had gone into the tunnels to track down a terrorist cell that was hiding among the city’s homeless. One minute the tunnels were quiet and dry, the next a flash flood brought a wall of water at them. He’d climbed an emergency ladder, but several of his men were caught in the torrent. Their bodies were found several miles away, so battered that dental records hat to be used to identify them. The terror of drowning still sat heavy in his mind.
Barely twenty yards up the passage, Gryph heard the sounds of approaching feet. He dipped into Stealth as another wyrmynn patrol came into view. A robed figure led this group. Gryph used Analyze and learned that it was a [Wyrmynn Priest - Level 12]. This priest seemed smarter than its kin as it paused and snapped an order to its underlings.
Shit, Gryph thought.
The priest was looking right at his hiding spot, beady eyes scanning back and forth. Stealth was holding, but Gryph decided it was time to test out his new Invisibility perk. He felt a shimmer pass through his body as if light were refracting off of him. Then the shimmer stopped, and a prompt popped into his vision.
Invisibility has failed.
Crap, 15% sucks. Had he made a mistake in using a precious point on such an unreliable perk? Not only that, but the failed attempt had still drained thirty points from his stamina
A quick glance at his dipping stamina bar sent a surge of worry through Gryph’s stomach. Move on, move on. Nothing to see here, Gryph thought, forcing mental commands into the universe.
The universe ignored him, and the priest still stared. Gryph’s stamina bar flared like the pulsing lights of a police car. He forced his mind to calm. Panic would be deadly, but so would the sound of his body falling to the ground if he lost consciousness.
A eureka moment surged into his brain. He still had Attribute Points to use. He opened his interface and dumped a point into Constitution and his stamina ticked up a few points, but the bar did not refill.
What the hell? Gryph thought in alarm and dumped the second point into Constitution. Again, a small uptick was the only response. Why didn’t it work? Gryph’s mind scrambled for an answer. It must require five points for the game hack to work? That was a full level’s worth of Attribute Points. A heavy cost for the game hack.
His stamina bar pulsed. Stealth would fail any moment. What the hell was this priest doing? His fellows wondered the same thing as the low grumbling of complaints moved through the other wyrmynn.
“Silence,” the priest hissed in their horrid sounding language.
Gryph’s muscles ached with the strain of staying absolutely still. The priest’s eyes moved away from Gryph’s hiding spot and its body relaxed. Sensing the ease of tension, a wyrmynn scout mouthed off. A backhand strike from the priest’s staff knocked the offender to the ground with a grunt of pain.
Gryph had his chance and eased back into the tunnel. If he could get to the next turn, maybe, just maybe he’d be able to sneak away. He moved back one foot, then another, slowly and silently bringing each boot to the ground. Never once taking his eyes of the wyrmynn priest.
He was doing it. He was almost out of sight when his foot came down onto a loose rock, and he slipped. The rock skittered down the decline behind him and the priest’s eyes snapped up boring right into Gryph’s eyes.
The priest grinned a mouthful of jagged teeth and raised its hand. A bolt of black energy blasted Gryph in the chest and his body seized in pain. His Health dropped by nearly a third as his muscles spasmed.
You have been hit by Necrotic Blast.
Necrotic Blast is a Base Tier Death Magic spell. It deals direct death damage and can cause temporary paralysis. You have resisted temporary paralysis.
Thanking the small miracle, he turned and sprinted away from the wyrmynn. A barked order from the priest sent the foul creatures in pursuit. Another Necrotic Blast flew over his left shoulder, exploding against the wall of the tunnel. Several arrows and a spear clattered against the wall as he dipped and dodged and ran.
Gryph came to the fork again and considered heading back the way he’d originally come but suspected that the wyrmynn would catch up with him and even be able to summon their brethren from deeper in the Barrow.
Gryph turned into the left fork and the cacophony of rushing water drowned out all sounds of pursuit. He could no longer hear the wyrmynn and didn't know how close they were. The ground was wet and littered with rocks and patches of moss making the footing treacherous. He dared not glance back for fear of falling.
Another Necrotic Blast zipped past him, and he ducked on instinct. Shards of rock cut into his face but did no damage. However, the arrow that hit his right shoulder did plenty. Pain pumped into him, and he stumbled. His Health dropped to barely over half, and he wished that Lex had been there. His NPC’s healing skills and a big ass hammer would have been welcome support.
The air filled with mist as Gryph rounded the corner. A fifteen-foot wide torrent of white water bisected the tunnel. Two slime covered ropes, one just a few inches above the roiling froth, another about chest height, stretched across the river. From there the tunnel continued deeper into the Barrow. Calling the pair of ancient ropes, a bridge was as much a joke as reality. Gryph knew what he had to do, he just had no desire to do it.
Another Necrotic Bolt flew overhead and forced the decision. Gryph eased a foot onto the lower rope while grabbing the other in his hands. The rope swayed, and Gryph nearly lost his balance. He was barely to the middle when the wyrmynn arrived.
The priest barked orders and the only words Gryph could make out above the din was “take him alive.” He found this very sporting until his mind wandered to what being captured alive by these stinking beasts might mean. Would he end up in a cooking pot? Torture? Something even more awful?
He moved with agonizing slowness to the center of the river. The froth made seeing difficult, and he could hear nothing. Any second he expected metal from a spear or arrow would bite him, or the sting of the priest’s death magic. Nothing came, and he risked a glance back. Two wyrmynn were clipping a rope to the end of a spear. An image of Moby Dick flashed through his mind. The barbed tip of the spear would be perfect. The bastards were making a harpoon. Gryph sped up and nearly fell as his left foot slipped.
His body dropped and pain from the arrow in his shoulder nearly caused him to lose his grip, but he held fast. He was getting close to the other side, but another glance back told him he would not make it. The wyrmynn had completed their makeshift harpoon, and the largest one a [Wyrmynn Skirmisher; Level 9] took aim.
Gryph knew he needed to jump for it. He turned, tensed his muscles and leapt. He landed hard, rib crunching pain bursting through him. He nearly slipped back into the raging water, but his outstretched arms found the strands of wet moss that clung to the far side. He pulled himself up when a deep sting bit into his left calf.
Gryph screamed at the agony surging up his leg. His health dropped further, dipping below the 40% mark. Another pull dragged him into the water. The current pounded Gryph, smashing him against the bank before pulling him downstream. His mouth and nose filled with water, and he couldn't breathe.
Debuff Added: You are drowning; 5 points of damage per second.
Debuff Added: You are bleeding; 5 points of damage per second.
Gryph didn't waste time doing the math, but he knew he’d be dead in under a minute if he didn't do something. Almost unbidden, he cast Animate Rope. Another violent jerk on the rope pulled his head above water. He would have screamed if he wasn’t coughing voluminous amounts of water from his lungs. They dragged him like a limp fish onto the shore. As he finished retching bile and brackish water, he felt himself turned onto his stomach. His arms were wrenched behind him and ropes bound his hands.
Gryph finished casting, and the rope attached to the spear slithered with fake life. At first his captors were unaware of the serpentine presence until the rope snapped forward, coili
ng a loop around the neck of the wyrmynn, who was tying Gryph’s hands. The rope tugged hard and spun, tossing the surprised lizard man towards the river. The creature’s head smashed against the roof of the cave and the wyrmynn disappeared into the water, sucked away like waste in a toilet.
Another lizard was tossed into the water, and the wyrmynn priest raged. The rope drew up like a cobra ready to strike. Gryph was cognizant to keep slack where the rope attached to the spear. Gryph pulled a red health potion from his bag and downed it.
Warmth tore through him like whiskey on a cold day, and with it, life. His health bar surged, topping out at 65%. He would not die, at least not yet. The priest was muttering under his breath and gesturing with his clawed hands. Whatever he was casting took longer than the Necrotic Bolts he’d been tossing earlier. Gryph was no magic expert, but he suspected that a longer casting time meant bad things were on the horizon.
Gryph went on the offensive and cast Flying Stalactite. He felt his arm grow rigid as the power of the earth itself flowed down his arm. With a crack a thin missile of rock erupted from his outstretched palm.
Gryph pointed his hand at the closest wyrmynn, a scout who’d raised his mace overhead and was ready to bring it crashing down onto Gryph. The stalactite punctured the wyrmynn’s armor and impaled it through the chest. Gryph earned a Critical Strike for the range and the surprise. The wyrmynn was dead before the stalactite pinned it to the wall of the cave behind it.
