by Oliver Mayes
The next rat they faced fell far more easily.
It was still reeling from Damien’s stab in the back when Noigel crashed into it from behind, latching onto its rump with his teeth before slashing and tearing indiscriminately with all four limbs. Damien jumped back as the rat spun in circles, trying to catch Noigel in its jaws.
It was no use. Noigel dug his claws in until the rat stopped spinning and then eviscerated it from the waist down. Damien sent the second imp in and, mercifully, the rodent did not survive much longer. After the thrashing subsided, Noigel cupped a hand to his ear, beckoning Damien with the other.
“Yeah, all right, that was good. Nice improvisation.”
Noigel bowed and blew kisses to an imaginary adoring crowd. He obviously thought he’d done a bit better than ‘good’.
A cloud of silver vapor left the rat’s body, gathering into a ball before drifting toward Damien as though pulled by gravity. The soul orb made contact with his skin and the soul counter rose by a half point. Hmm. So the drop rate wasn’t stable. That was a shame, but at least the fight had been easy.
While the two imps chattered at each other contentedly, Damien took the chance to open his menu and go to the HUD adjustment options. He rearranged his resource bars along the bottom of the screen. Health went in the bottom left, mana in the bottom right and stamina in the middle. That way he’d have a vague sense of how they were without directing too much attention toward them in battle.
He tidied up a little more until he was satisfied everything was the right size and in the right place. Then he closed his menu to find a new, unexpected problem. Having taken his eyes off his minions, he had no way of telling them apart. They looked exactly alike.
“Noigel, can you...”
The two imps shared a look and sniggered. Great, so they were messing him around on purpose. Well, they’d have to do better than that. He inspected the one on the right. Instead of saying ‘Noigel’ it simply said ‘Imp’.
The little devils had swapped places while he was occupied. He pointed straight at the other imp. If he hadn’t been certain before, the rapidly concealed flicker of surprise in Noigel’s eyes made him certain now.
“You. Noigel. Do you want me to send you into combat first? Are you sure pretending to be your friend is a good idea?”
Noigel took one look at his companion and broke rank, running to Damien’s side. The new imp didn’t seem to understand what had just happened. He stood there, picking his nose and eating it, acting far too complacent considering Noigel’s betrayal.
“That’s better. New guy, you walk in front of us. Noigel, you’re supporting him. I’m staying in the back and testing a spell. All good?”
The imp immediately moved into position ahead of Damien and started to check its surroundings. So Noigel required detailed instructions but could be reasoned with, while other imps always followed orders.
Noigel flapped his hand in the air, gesturing for Damien to lower himself to his height. Bemused, Damien complied, lowering himself until they were face to face with his elbow on one knee. Noigel extended a hand and patted him on the head.
Damien cleared his throat.
“You’re doing well, Noigel. But I swear, if you ever do that again, I’ll order you into the largest group of enemies I can find.”
Noigel grinned but he quickly retracted his hand and turned away, his shoulders shuddering with the effort of not laughing. Damien stood up and brushed off the top of his head. He felt like it might never be clean again. He focused on the less annoying of his two minions and spoke with forced softness.
“Move forward quietly and stop when you see an enemy.”
It wasn’t long before they encountered the next oversized vermin. With two imps and Damien himself, the fight should have gone well. It might have done, too, had Damien not set himself on fire trying out his new Corruption spell. That left Noigel to fend off the enemy alone, while the other imp stood by gormlessly. After wasting five seconds trying and failing to extinguish the flames, Damien finally had the presence of mind to order it into battle.
There were some muffled screeches as they finished off the rat and then it went blissfully silent.
Damien closed his eyes and shook his head. What a mess. He ordered the two imps to return to him. One of them looked perfectly happy. The other was scratched, bruised, and looked extremely frustrated. Damien didn’t need to inspect either of them to know which was which.
“Okay. So, I think we’re going to have to set up some ground rules.”
The other imp clapped his hands gleefully. Noigel folded his arms and spat on the ground.
“Yeah, I know, Noigel. I messed up. You don’t need to rub it in. We just have to make sure it never happens again.”
Noigel narrowed his eyes at Damien and stared at him for a long time. When Damien refused to look away, the imp grunted and parked himself on the floor. He lifted a leg high over his head and licked a wound on his inner thigh meticulously.
Damien wasn’t sure if this was a reaction to Noigel’s injury or if it was simply a commentary on his leadership skills. Probably both.
He directed his attention to the uninjured minion, who was still listening attentively.
“If we haven’t been spotted by an enemy, you must try to avoid being detected. If we’re attacked, you can defend yourselves. If I’m attacked, you must defend me. You got it?”
The little minion chirped happily and made a mock salute. Noigel paused briefly to shake his head before licking his wounds.
“Noigel, those instructions were just for the new guy. You did a great job and don’t need orders. I trust your judgment.”
Without looking to see how this would be received, Damien opened his menu and navigated to the Skills tab. He needed to know why Corruption had backfired so spectacularly. He read the description, mouthing the words as he went.
“With a directed gaze and a flick of the wrist, a target within thirty—”
Damien looked at his hand, replaying the moment in his mind. He’d been staring at his own hand when he’d flicked his wrist. He’d targeted himself. Great. Well, at least he knew now.
The half soul of the new rat had already been absorbed, giving Damien just enough to summon another imp and reach his Soul Summon Limit. When the third demon emerged, they all exchanged secret handshakes while Damien went about looting the rat.
Noigel’s health was nearly full, but Damien was still only at about two thirds. He didn’t plan on waiting; they’d already wasted enough time.
“We’re changing tactics. The two new guys stay by me. When we find an enemy, I’ll send Noigel to bait it into coming toward us and we’ll gang up on it. That OK with you, Noigel?”
Noigel blew another raspberry but moved to take the lead.
It turned out Noigel was a master of rat-baiting. An imp might have had a hard time defeating a rat in combat, but three of them together made it light work.
Noigel would occasionally hang back and let the other two imps do the dangerous part on their own. Damien took advantage of Shadow Walker, Sneak Attack and Critical Strike, finishing fights with head blows. He wasn’t interested in Chaotic Bolt or Corruption. His experiences with them had been worrying, to say the least.
With the new strategy in place, the last seven rats fell without incident. Damien hadn’t even handed in the quests yet but he’d reached level 3 and was already most of the way to level 4, with a full roster of demons and three spare souls in his Soul Reserve. He held his hand over the last rat and found exactly what he needed: the final piece of rat fur. He’d completed all his quests. All he had to do now was find—
“Loooseer.”
Damien turned his head, fully expecting Bartholomew to have reappeared from the darkness, but there was no sign of him. The only living things in his range of vision were the three imps. Apparently, none of them had heard it since they were staring straight at him rather than looking around.
Damien shook himself. All this
time at the bottom of the dungeon was taking its toll. He turned back to the rat and found Bartholomew’s less than congenial face half an inch away from his own.
“Good afternoon.”
Damien screamed and fell backward, his cry turning from fear to annoyance before he’d even hit the ground. Bartholomew chuckled dryly.
“So, how was your hunt?”
“You just happened to show up as soon as it was finished. You tell me.”
“I was being polite, but if you want a review I’m more than happy to oblige. You seem to have a propensity for making things as difficult as possible. I particularly enjoyed the part where you set yourself on fire.”
“I thought Chaotic Bolt and Corruption would work the same way.”
“Next time, I suggest you think a little harder. Aside from that, you did well! I see you’ve taken a liking to the imps—”
“Looooseeeer.”
Damien turned again, just too late to catch the source of the voice. Noigel was absent-mindedly inspecting his claws and didn’t seem to have heard anything. The other two imps were huddled together, playing Patty Cake to pass the time.
“—although your relationship with Noigel leaves something to be desired.”
Damien’s eyes flitted over the imps. The voice had come from close by both times, so why hadn’t they heard it? Why hadn’t Bartholomew heard it either, for that matter? He readjusted his position so he could talk to Bartholomew while facing the imps directly.
“Yeah, well, it’s still early. Noigel might be difficult but he knows what he’s doing. I’m glad to have him.”
Bartholomew grinned at him approvingly.
“This is good to hear. You may still have a thing or two to learn. That’s enough idle chit-chat. Turn over your assignments.”
Damien went into his inventory and pulled out the rat fur.
“I’ve gathered the rat furs to make a new bag.”
Bartholomew clasped his hand around it and the “Fur is all the Rage” quest icon in Damien’s HUD glowed gold before fading away.
“Excellent. I shall create a new bag for you in due course. You can keep the one you’re using until my work is complete. Is there anything else?”
“I’ve killed ten rats in your dungeon, as you asked.”
The text of “Infestation in the Occultist Nation” glowed gold and faded away. His reward, 1150 experience, was easily enough for him to push deep into level 4.
“Well done. I believe I gave you one last assignment?”
“I have tested all the abilities you gave me.”
The text of “You Want Skills? I’ll Show You Skills!” lit up gold, but it did not yet fade away as the others had done.
“Your choice of tactics was… interesting. I’d have expected you to use Maleficium spells from afar, with imps for defense and Shadow Walker to escape from danger. Instead, you relied on imps for attack and defense and used Shadow Walker to engage your opponents in melee. You’re aware that you have magic at your disposal now, yes? You don’t have to use rat bones anymore.”
“The spells attracted too much attention. They were dangerous to me and they were dangerous to the imps as well if I missed. This way was much—”
Bartholomew waved a hand in front of Damien’s face, imploring him to stop talking.
“Yes, yes, I’m sure you comprehend how to use your abilities far better than I do. After all, I’m only the leader of the occultists and you’re the prodigy who thinks looking at his hand while he casts spells is a good idea. Still, you have fulfilled the terms of our arrangement.” Damien received 1875 EXP, the maximum the hard 1.5 level cap on experience gain would allow. It was enough for him to push straight through level 5 all the way to level 6, with 375 EXP to spare. He was ecstatic. Even by the standards of early leveling, this was fast progress.
“I shall retire to tailor your new bag. In the meantime, there are other important tasks that require your attention.”
A new gold exclamation mark appeared above Bartholomew’s head. Damien smiled. At this rate he’d get to level 10 in no time. First, however, he had another matter to attend to.
“Can I just take a few minutes to catch my breath? I’ll start the next task very soon, I promise!”
Bartholomew inclined his head ever so slightly.
“Very well, I shall grant you a temporary reprieve. Come and find me when you’re ready.”
Bartholomew floated backward until he faded into the shadows. Damien brought up his Stat page.
He had twenty-five stat points that needed to be allocated. He gave it some thought. There was only one skill he gave a damn about that could scale off his stat points: Soul Harvest. He could hold more souls and have a larger number of imps at his command if he increased his wisdom. It would also increase his mana and his mana regeneration, so he’d have a hard time running out of mana to summon more.
He decided. He’d put these points into wisdom and see how it went. Maybe there would be more skills that scaled with wisdom in the future.
As they dropped in, his mana pool increased to 400. He quickly checked his Soul Harvest skill. Sure enough, the utility of Soul Harvest had improved greatly.
Account Name: Damien Arkwright
Character: Daemien
Class: Occultist
Level: 6
Health: 140/140
Stamina: 140/140
Mana: 400/400
Stats:
Strength 14 - Agility 14 - Intelligence 14
Constitution 14 - Endurance 14 - Wisdom 40
Stat Points: 0
Experience: 26/2000
Soul Summon Limit: 3/6 - Soul Reserve: 3/7
He could now have up to six imps at a time. His Soul Reserve had gone up more modestly, only increasing by two points compared to his Soul Limit’s three, but the real prize was being able to use so many summons at once.
“Looooo—”
Damien closed his menu and turned his head in the blink of an eye. Noigel had entered a coughing fit and the voice had vanished. But Damien knew.
“Bartholomew? Where are you?”
A faint clicking from behind Damien prompted him to turn and find Bartholomew occupying the previously empty space. The rat furs were floating in the air beside his head as his fingers manipulated a pair of knitting needles with uncanny dexterity. Damien was taken aback.
He hadn’t thought Bartholomew would literally, personally craft him a bag. He’d figured the game would pop a bag into existence with a line of code and Bartholomew would hand it over, along with some prefabricated moan of how much effort it had taken. But no, a vampire occultist faction leader was knitting him a bag out of rat skins.
“I have some questions,” started Damien, being careful to put Noigel back in his sights as he spoke.
“Really? Well, I suppose we should all stop what we’re doing so we don’t risk forcing you to repeat yourself.”
“Thanks, uh, that would be great. So, for starters, why is Noigel talking?”
Bartholomew stumbled in his knitting but quickly recovered, retracing the steps before settling back into his rhythm. He spoke to Damien out of the corner of his mouth.
“That’s a shame, I was hoping we’d have some fun before you figured it out. Noigel becomes more intelligent the more imps you have in your party. That’s his ‘We Are Many’ ability.”
Damien was careful not to look directly at Noigel, but he could still see him in his peripheral vision. He slyly brought up Noigel’s stat bar without using any physical gestures. Noigel’s intelligence was already at 15. It had tripled, multiplied by the number of imps in play.
Since Daemien had hit level five, some of Noigel’s other stats had increased as well: his constitution and endurance had risen by a point each, bringing his health and stamina bars up to 60. His agility stat had risen by a full three points. Not bad. Five pre-assigned stat points for the imps every five levels. It was much less than players received, but at least it was a measurable improvement.
Damien closed Noigel’s Stat page and pondered the imp’s behavior. Instead of telling Damien he had the ability to speak, Noigel had decided to hide this information and use it to mock him. This did not, to Damien’s mind, seem very co-operative.
“Any other questions?”
The bag was already starting to take shape. Bartholomew was weaving the top of it into a plushie rat head, a cute yet somehow macabre tribute to the fur from which it was made. Damien tore his eyes away from it and remembered his question about the mechanics of soul gathering.
“When I started fighting rats I was getting good souls early on, but later some of them weren’t dropping souls at all. Was I doing something wrong?”
Bartholomew slowed down slightly as he considered this, then the knitting needles whirled back into action as he lazily intoned his reply.
“It is a question of quality, Daemien, not quantity. Rats lack the inclination to cultivate their souls. As for why the volume of souls decreased, that is simple. You have become considerably more powerful and the rats no longer constitute a worthy offering. Your only recourse is to find stronger enemies.”
Damien translated it into gamer speak. He wouldn’t be able to collect souls from enemies that were much weaker than himself. He’d have to find higher level enemies to keep his soul count flowing.
“All right, I got it. Thanks for your help. So, what’s this quest you want me to do?”
“First things first: your aptitude as an occultist has increased significantly, even if your maturity has not. As such, I have two new spells to bestow upon you as a reward for your dedication.”
Bartholomew tapped Damien on the head with a white-hot finger and two new notifications came up.
Summon Wraith Unlocked!
Possession Unlocked!
“The first is a summoning ability. The wraith will only function effectively in the dark, but is extremely dangerous if it maintains the element of surprise. The second allows you to take direct control of your minions. You are left vulnerable while Possession is active, so ensure you conceal yourself somewhere safe. You will test these two abilities in tandem.”
