by C. M. Carney
“Are you ready Crusader?” a familiar and unwelcome voice boomed.
12
T he 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 Crusader? Ready to serve me? Ready to rid this world of evil?”
Gryph and Lex turned to see 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? 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, 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), but 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 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 it’s 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. Gryph 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 an 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
G ryph’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 the 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% of his health 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. He hadn’t been thrilled that Lex had ended up a priest, but he could definitely use some healing magic.
“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 to acclimate to your surroundings, become familiar with your new skills and purchase any additional equipment you may need before joining the Great Quest.
Congratulations Crusader. 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 refused 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.
A cool breath exhaled onto his face. The stale stench he’d noticed earlier grew to a horrid carrion smell. Gryph knew that it came from whatever now lurked on his back. It was a carnivore ready to take a bite out of him.
A long snout came into sharp focus. Beady eyes that glowed with a dim green light sat atop the muzzle. Gryph made eye contact and the foul creature opened its mouth to expose row after row of needle sharp teeth. A low, evil hiss flowed from the creature's mouth.
Gryph stared at the creature. Information rushed into his mind. A new prompt popped up unbidden in Gryph’s vision.
Undead Barrow Rat. Level 2 - H:35/S:20/M:0/SP:0
Barrow Rats are larger, more disgusting cousins to normal rats and while they prefer carrion, they have been known to take bites out of easy prey when the opportunity presents itself. This Barrow rat was reanimated after death. Cowardly and easily spooked, Barrow rats’ real danger comes from the disease Barrow Rot that fills their foul mouths. Strengths: Unknown. Immunities: Unknown. Weakness: Unknown.
You Have Learned the Skill ANALYZE - Level: 1 - Tier: Base - Skill Type: Passive
You have shown an ability to identify creatures you encounter You can now identify basic creatures (Levels 1 - 5). You can now access the skill perk tree that will allow you to know their strengths and weaknesses. Each level will unlock the ability to identify creatures of an additional 5 levels.
The barrow rat climbed onto Gryph’s shoulder and sniffed at his face. Gryph knew the debuff clock would last longer than this stinking beast's fear. It would take a bite out of him. He would get Barrow Rot, which sounded horrid. So, he did the only thing he could.
“Raaarrrgghhh!!!!” Gryph bellowed at the top of his lungs, tearing at his parched throat.
The rat jumped back in fright, before hissing in anger, and perhaps embarrassment. It took just a few seconds for the creature to regain its courage and climbed back onto Gryph’s shoulder, ready to take a bite out of him.
Debuffs Cleared.
Gryph thrust the dagger up with all his might and impaled the rat through the mouth. The point erupted from the back of the stinking creature's head, destroying its small brain before the signals of pain reached it. The creature died in a spasm of blood and gore.
You have scored a Critical Hit. 5X normal damage.
You have received 175 Experience Points (XP) for killing Undead Barrow Rat.
“Well, that sucked,” Gryph said getting to his feet. He was in a small cave. He looked around, but could see no way out. “How’d you get in here?” he said to the dead rat, nudging it with his toe.
“Lex? You around buddy?”
As expected he got no answer. The room was dimly lit by a luminescent fungus clinging to the walls and fed by a slow trickle of water that came from a small crevice near the ceiling. Was that how the rat got in?
Gryph brought up his internal map, hoping to discover where he was. The world was a black mass of nothingness, aside from the small cave he occupied. The tag on the map read The Barrow: Level Three.
“Well, that's no help,” Gryph grumbled, wincing at the pain from his broken ribs. He eased himself into a sitting position forcing the fear and claustrophobia into the deep recesses of his mind. It wasn't gone, it was just submerged. So far his experience with the Realms had not been pleasant.
Yet people enter this place by choice.
Gryph knew he wasn’t where he was supposed to be. Aluran must have altered the system in some way. He was alone, God knows where and no closer to saving Brynn. Maybe he should log off and reboot. The Realms may be real, but the game used to get Crusaders into the Realms was, at its heart, still a computer program. And what did you do when your com
puter went wonky? You rebooted it.
Gryph brought up his interface again and tapped at the LOG OFF button. He felt it depress and prepared to return to the real world. Nothing happened. Not even another ERROR message. He hit it again. Nothing.
Never one to resort to bitching, Gryph assessed his situation. His health was still low, and he was in pain. He pulled a health potion from his inventory. He examined the vial of swirling red liquid for a few moments before shrugging and downing it in one gulp.
Instantly, heat flowed through his body and his pains soothed away. First the minor scratches and bruises disappeared. The pounding in his head, he suspected was a concussion, lessened and eased. He felt his ribs snap back into place and the bones knit together again.
“Holy crap,” Gryph said, his mood perking up. The US Army would kill for this technology.
Gryph stood, did a few jumping jacks to force feeling back into his arms and legs. After stretching he noticed the small wooden chest hidden in a nook. It hadn’t been there a few moments ago, Gryph was sure of it. Where had it come from?
Gryph walked up to the chest with caution. It couldn’t have just magically appeared, could it? Was the concussion worse than he thought? Maybe he was hallucinating. He’d hit his head pretty hard when he fell.
With that thought, Gryph looked up at the roof of the cavern a mere dozen feet above him where stalactites jabbed down like fangs. He felt like he was inside the maw of a massive stone beast. He expected to see a hole in the roof. Something he had fallen through. Something that would explain all of this. But the ceiling was solid.
“None of this makes any sense.”
