The Trapped Mind Project (Emerilia Book 1)

by Michael Chatfield

  “Can I be ready for the cultists?” Dave asked.

  “Send me your stats,” Bob said.

  “Can’t you call them up?”

  “I could, but then that wouldn’t be very nice of me to do as a friend.”

  Character Sheet

  Name:

  David Grahslagg

  Gender:

  Male

  Level:

  3

  Class:

  -

  Race:

  Human/Dwarf

  Alignment:

  Chaotic Neutral

  Unspent points: 65

  Health:

  1800

  Regen:

  1.08 /s

  Mana:

  670

  Regen:

  2.50 /s

  Stamina:

  500

  Regen:

  2.00 /s

  Vitality:

  18

  Endurance:

  54

  Intelligence:

  67

  Willpower:

  50

  Strength:

  50

  Agility:

  40

  Affinity Levels

  Dark

  40

  Light

  28

  Air

  29

  Water

  24

  Earth

  41

  Fire

  33

  Dave shared his stats. They weren’t that impressive.

  Well, other than his Intelligence. Bob had put that down to not only what Dave was doing, but the ideas that he wrote on his interface.

  Dave had taken to writing down all of his ideas and the interface had dropped him a few extra Intelligence points for his theories.

  Bob promised that his interface was not transmitting. Some of the ideas scared Dave.

  He looked at his skill in smithing. It was the one thing that he had been working on day in and day out, with some dual wield and heavy armor training with the warbands.

  He hadn’t trained up his other skills for the last few days.

  New Active Skill: Dual wield

  Level: Journeyman Level 4

  Effect: Attacks are 24% faster; 50% reduced damage with off-hand blade.

  Cost: 15 Stamina/s

  Active Skill: Smithing

  Level: Journeyman Level 7

  Effect: 51% improved quality of smithing creation.

  Passive Skill: Heavy Armor

  Level: Journeyman Level 2

  Effect: 47% increased armor.

  His smithing speed had slowed down and he hadn’t moved from Journeyman Level 2 in heavy armor for days. He’d got as high as he was for his decent strength stat and the modifications he’d made to the armor.

  He had ideas for what he wanted his final armor to be. In the meantime, he wasn’t going into battle with anything but the best of what he could find.

  The XP he’d gained from fighting in it had also helped to boost its levels.

  His dual wield had gone up with constant training and the fighting. The real reason he had been able to increase his level so fast was because of his innate ability.

  He was ambidextrous. Deia had pointed it out as he’d been eating and the way he was okay with fighting from any stance. It made him capable of fighting from any direction. With his axes, he could hit hard but he had limited to no defense to blunt an attack other than his armor.

  Dave cocked his head to the side. He could sense the two people who were moving through the trees around to the right side of his house, opposite the smithy.

  “Seems someone wants to keep an eye on me,” Dave said.

  “Looks like we will have to have a short night.” Bob didn’t sound too pleased as he waved away his interface. “Okay, your stats are looking good, especially as you’re just showing as a measly level 3.”

  “Thank you,” Dave said with some pride.

  “You’re going to need a higher Willpower to conjure more things at once. With that nice big Mana pool from Intelligence, you’re going to be able to conjure some pretty nice weapons. I want new axes—make them out of ebony. I want Magical Circuits, sharpened stats and high durability. All you can pour into them to raise their stats.”

  “I don’t even know ebony,” Dave complained.

  “You’ve been working in a smithy with a decent supply of ebony and you have a couple of bricks in your pack. Your power is your mind. It’s time we stopped writing down Magical Circuits and you started making them for real,” Bob said.

  “You sure?” Dave asked.

  “Hell no, but I want to see what happens. What’s the worst that’s going to happen?”

  “I could die?”

  “And come back in Omal and run all the way over here. Ain’t that bad.” Bob shrugged.

  Dave sighed. It was still odd to think about it, but in some circumstances, it was actually better for him to die than anything. Death wasn’t something to be feared, just another tool to use in the game.

  “Mana power only, no soul gems. Don’t want you blowing up the entire hill!” Bob said. With that, he and his chair disappeared. Dave noticed he kept his drink with him as he disappeared.

  Dave took a large drink from his cup. He canceled its creation, a portion of the Mana it took to create it coming back to him.

  The two who had been prowling around his house now approached his porch.

  “What do you want?” Dave looked at where they were and tapped his axe.

  The two Players stopped, as if that would stop him from seeing them. He used Touch of the Land almost constantly now, knowing where people were within a hundred meters of him. He could go for a larger area but it only used a fraction of his Mana for the limited touch. The larger the area he used his Touch of the Land to see, the more information he had to process. It was easy to get overwhelmed by it all.

  When he talked to Bob, he unconsciously watched for a larger area so that no one crept up on them.

  “I’ve had a long day, so either speak up or piss off, flashlights,” Dave said, his Touch of the Land recognizing the guild badge on their chests.

  “What was that, guildless?” one of them roared, coming into view.

  They wore all-black clothes and their faces were covered in shadows.

  “Ohhh, creepy.” Dave yawned as the man’s fists tightened over his blades.

  Unknown

  Unknown

  Level 59

  Seems that cloak isn’t just for creep factor, Dave thought as he used Analyze on the man.

  The other specter stepped out of the darkness.

  The leather was tight in all the right places, but Dave was tired and he had a lot of work to do. He was also excited to start working on Magical Circuits.

  In his simulated life as Austin Zane, he had dated supermodels and caught the eye of many beautiful women. Outward beauty didn’t capture him anymore.

  She placed a hand on the enraged creeper and looked to Dave. She was a high Elf. White hair cascaded down her back as she pulled down her hood; bright-blue eyes that had struck many people with their beauty looked at Dave.

  He pulled out a piece of jerky and started to chew.

  Racquel

  High Elf

  Level 63

  She gave him an odd look. Apparently, she was used to getting a reaction from others.

  “Can we hurry this up? I’ve got a life, you know. Kind of feeling like going to bed sometime soon,” Dave said.

  “Our guildmaster, Lady Cassie of the Golden Sabres, requests your presence.”

  “You guys heard of a PM?” Dave growled, still sitting in his seat.

  “We tried,” she said.

  That must have been all the spam. A grin spread across Dave’s face.

  “What does she want?” Dave asked.

  “Look here—”

  The man was cut off by Racquel. “To talk.”

  Dave pulled out another piece of jerky, thinking for a few minutes.


  He rose. The Muskoka chair creaked after his weight lifted from it. He had started the game at five and a half feet. Since then, he’d grown four inches and added a lot of the dense muscle mass that Dwarves had. He’d had to get new clothes; still, these ones clung to the sweat on his body from a hard day’s work.

  “Well, let’s go and talk.” Dave stepped off his porch and headed off toward the Golden Sabres’ camp.

  The other two followed in silence. He didn’t doubt that they were firing PMs to each other and their guild as Dave walked through the forest that separated him from the road.

  His skills with the forest had grown. He made barely a whisper as the two stealthy spies seemed intent on breaking every fallen branch in the forest.

  Deia would have a fit. The thought brought a smile to his face as he took off at a jog. The others kept pace as they came up to the Golden Sabres’ camp.

  It was a camp only in name. They’d used Earth and Dark magic to form a four-story apartment building. Four smaller buildings rested at the corners of the apartment building, creating watchtowers.

  Guild members walked around, having cooking fires here and there. It was one hell of an impressive sight. The Golden Sabres had two feeder guilds already and they only allowed the highest of the high into their founding guild.

  A small earthen wall ran from the four corner buildings. Dave slowed his pace, walking through the gate and taking the sight in. People were sparring; others lounged around and talked. More were in various discussions with the local populace who had been invited in.

  Through Dave’s contacts, they had told him of how Golden Sabre had a number of contracts to take care of land rental, food, wood, and all utilities.

  One of the people he saw was Wis’Zel.

  He caught his kiln manager’s eyes. He began to make polite talk to extricate himself from his discussion. Dave waved him back and changed direction.

  “Excuse me but—”

  “Yeah, Cassie wants to talk. Just gonna say hello to my friend.” Dave reached Wis’Zel, a dwarf wearing what looked to be a business suit, and two Golden Sabre people he pegged as negotiators or traders of some kind.

  “Dave, it is a surprise to see you. This is Ukon.” Wis’Zel indicated the dwarf.

  “Hey, Ukon. You must be the one managing everything on the bank side,” Dave said.

  “Yes, sir. I’ve been meaning to talk to you. To have a face-to-face chat and put a name to the messages.” Ukon was gruff and straightforward.

  Dave loved that about Dwarves.

  “Sorry—been a bit busy. I’ll be able to clear something up soon. Would you have time tomorrow?” Dave asked.

  “Yes, sir. Come whenever—I will clear my schedule.” Ukon tilted his head.

  “Thanks, Ukon.” Dave returned the gesture, seeing the looks that the two Golden Sabre traders gave each other and then their opposition.

  “We have just been negotiating the Muskoka chairs and also bricks sale to the Golden Sabres,” Wis’Zel said.

  “Let’s have a look,” Dave said.

  Wis’Zel passed him the contract. Dave looked through it.

  “Sir, Lady Cassie is waiting.”

  “And she can wait some more, seeing as you’re trying to fleece the shit out of me here,” Dave said, his tone thoughtful. The language was smart and he almost missed its hidden nuances.

  “So, basically, if we don’t fill the orders, then they get rights to use our patent and make it themselves. Smart there. Nicely hidden, right under the allowed amount to order and how long you expect it to be deliverd.” Dave called up fire in his fingers and burned the contract.

  Wis’Zel gave Dave a curious look.

  “Who is this guy?” One of the negotiators shook his head, as if Dave had no idea what he was talking about.

  “So, basically, they can order as many as they want from us, though they have to be Tounkvered within a year and if they are not, then they can make their own to make up for the difference. Say they order a million units; we can’t make that many, so they make them all at cost then sell them off, swamping us with orders for five years and destroying our ability to sell to anyone else as we’re contract-bound to fill their orders,” Dave said. “Fuck, boys, you’re worse than the Americans with contracts. That space explorer one was a doozy too.” Dave muttered the last part under his breath.

  Wis’Zel’s curious look turned angry. “Ukon, I think that we shall be leaving.”

  “Fucking cheats,” Ukon growled.

  “This guy doesn’t know anything. He’s pulling something from nothing,” the traders said, trying to recover something.

  “I’m the guy who owns the damn patents. Might be some hillbilly but kid, I’ve got eyes. Zel, if anyone else has contracts with them, bring them to me. I’ll vet them,” Dave said.

  “Of course…Dave.”

  “You were about to say it! Don’t even think of that sir crap, Zel!” Dave smiled. “I will see you tomorrow, Mister Ukon. Before seventh bell in the morning?”

  “Yes, Mister Grahslagg. That will be fine.” Ukon held out a hand.

  Dave grasped it. The man might be a banker, but Dave felt warband callouses on his hands. Dave grinned and released the man’s hand.

  The traders were making all kinds of noise but Dave didn’t care for them. He headed for the apartment.

  Others were now watching the traders with interest.

  Dave jogged up the stairwell of the apartments. His two shadows followed, barely, as he came to a door on the third floor with two guards at it.

  “Dave’s the name and I want to go to bed. Let’s get this over with,” he said.

  The guard knocked on the door as Dave’s two shadows appeared behind him.

  “How did you know?” Racquel asked.

  “Man has to have a few surprises and I really just want to go home. This Player shit is so boring!” Dave said.

  The door opened. Inside there was an office; a woman sat at a silver desk inlaid with gold and gems.

  Dave shook his head.

  The desk was supposed to convey the power of the woman behind it. To him, it was just a waste of good materials.

  Kol would have it melted down in seconds.

  Lady Cassie was at her desk, moving through various stacks of papers and using her interface.

  “You mind telling me what you want? I have a bed I’d like to see.” Dave saw her frown but she kept up the act.

  “Cool.” Dave turned and walked back for the door. Now his shadows blocked his way.

  The creeper dude put out his hands. Dave thought he saw a grin in those shadows.

  “Dave Grahslagg, a Player who lives among NPCs.”

  Dave rolled his eyes and turned around.

  “Cassie, looks like a flashlight and wears gold armor. We know who each other is. Using the whole ‘I know more than you know’ bullshit got old a long time ago, honey.” Dave looked to her.

  She gritted her teeth before she laughed. “Jules said you were different,” Cassie said.

  “Bed, sleep, me, talk faster—what do you want?” Dave asked.

  Austin Zane had been courteous, with smiles and compliments. He was still in there, but Dave was bored of the power games; he wanted to get away from them. He was a rougher man who remembered how Zane had been walked over. How power had changed people.

  “I want you to join the Golden Sabres,” Cassie said.

  Dave arched an eyebrow.

  “Well, one of our feeders. We can’t have a level 3 running around in the actual Golden Sabres.” She shrugged.

  “Thanks for coming out here for the raid and all, but I’m not a guild kind of guy. Got my home and my peace, looking to keep it,” Dave said.

  Cassie studied Dave with interest. “I hear that you are an Evolver. That you train with the Dwarves and Elves to fight, build weapons and more.”

  “Is there a question in there somewhere?” Dave asked.

  “Show me your stats or face one of my people in battle. I have n
ot met a full Evolver yet. I want to see what you’re capable of,” Cassie said.

  “No thank you,” Dave said.

  “If you don’t, then I will make this outpost ours and I will make sure that the Dwarves of Mithsia and Elves of Kufo’tel never trade with the rest of Opheir.”

  Dave looked over to the woman. The threat was real. It didn’t matter to her. She had power but her curiosity filled her. Dave opened his interface, making it look as though he were sending her his stats as he conjured a screen just like his stats display.

  She looked over the stats. After a few minutes, she dismissed it. Dave destroyed the conjured screen.

  “Well, that was boring. Have you done nothing in this game?” she asked.

  Dave shrugged. “You mind? I want to go to bed.”

  Cassie snorted and waved him away. The shadows and guards let him leave. “Nothing but a level 3,” Cassie said.

  A smile covered Dave’s face as he continued on his descent. Now was not the time to fight. He had a lot of training to do still.

  He jogged out of the camp. The traders gave him dirty looks as he disappeared into the night and headed for his home.

  Once he was there, he kept up his Touch of the Land to detect any more spies. He pulled off his clothes, used a bucket of water to wash off the day’s grime and then dried them. Wearing just pants, he sat down in the center of his home. He touched the wood floor, smiling at his home.

  It was already getting chilly with the approaching winter.

  Dave pulled an ebony bar from his pack, taking his time. Patience was key. He focused his Touch of the Land, seeing deep into the dark ingot in front of him.

  He sat back against his bed. His hands moved apart. A black piece of metal appeared in mid-air, gray shadows wafting from its edges.

  He pinched the metal, stretching it and forming an edge. He turned it and did the same on the opposite side. He held the base of the blade, forming a tang shoulder and tang.

  It was slow and hard work. Dave’s Mana slowly but surely dropped as he formed the ebony blade from pure magic, forming and creating it with more power. It floated there, a formed blade, waiting for use. Wood formed around its hilt, a cross hilt turning blade to sword.