by Phil Tucker
I hit the ground, rolled several times, and came to a stop. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move. I strained, but all I could do was make a high-pitched whistling sound. Pain enveloped me, like I was on fire.
Summoning all my reserves, I flopped onto my stomach and set my eyes on the meadow’s edge. I stabbed my dagger into the dirt, planning to use it to haul myself forward, but it hit the flagstone and stopped dead.
One of the ogres laughed gutturally as it loomed. Desperate, I turned over, hatching a wild plan to slice at its palm if it tried to grab me. It didn’t. Instead, its head blocked the sun as it lifted its club high.
Panic. Wild, terrifying horror. My chest was still locked up. Black motes danced before my eyes. I glanced around the meadow in desperate hope, but nobody was there. Brianna wasn’t appearing to provide a last second save.
This was it? Just a few minutes into Euphoria, and I was going to die? Incredulity and fury filled me. My dagger shook as I raised it. The second ogre stepped up on my other side, club propped over its shoulder.
Nowhere to go. No way to hide. I couldn’t even stand. All I could do was lie frozen in the ogre’s shadow and stare up at certain death. The ogre grunted, grasped his club with both hands and brought it crashing down with all its strength toward my head.
4
I screamed in both fury and terror—then sank into the ground.
It felt like I’d fallen into a mass of velvet, smooth and delicious against my skin. Darkness embraced me, the world disappeared and took the ogres with it.
A second later I emerged into a vertical crack in a cliff face, sliding out of the shadows to lodge amongst the rocks. I wanted to scream again as pain shot through me, but shock and some vestige of self-control helped me clamp my jaws shut.
My back was killing me. Waves of pain rolled up and down my spine, and sweat burned my eyes and soaked my tunic. With a gasp I fought to remain wedged in that crack and not topple out to plummet to the ground far below.
From over the top of the cliff came roars of anger. The ogres. My chest finally unlocked and I inhaled with a shuddery gasp. I wanted to continue sucking in the air, but the sound was too loud—I clamped my hand over my mouth and tried to bite back my cries.
My vision swam, but some sixth sense told me this was the critical moment. Wedged deep in the shadows as I was, I craned my head back and looked up.
The ogres had stepped up to the cliff edge and were looking around in confusion.
I went to move deeper into the shadows but caught myself in time. I remained completely still. Movement might draw their eye, no matter how small.
Don’t see me, I prayed. Please, please, please don’t see me. Come on, Stealth Basic (I). Come on!
The ogres grunted and turned away. Then they were gone, and a chime sounded, though I couldn’t tell from where it came. I allowed myself a hissing inhalation and closed my eyes. I’d nearly died. The knowledge hit me like a cartload of bricks. I said the words to myself again: I nearly died.
I leaned my head back, adjusting my position amongst the rocks. The pain was making me nauseous. Thank god I’d not gone for fighter or wizard. I’d be a dead man right now if I had.
The minutes passed slowly. It felt like an eternity, but I didn’t dare try to climb out of the crack and look around. What if the ogres were still there?
I shivered. Euphoria’s ethereal beauty had turned cold and cruel. I opened my character sheet. No change other than my mana having dropped to zero. Had I Shadow Stepped? I must have. There was still no sign of hit points or the like. I’d have to take my health cues directly from my body.
“Chris?”
I’d somehow fallen into a doze, and cracked my head against the rock as I startled.
“Chris?” Brianna’s voice was incredibly faint as if she were far away.
“Here,” I croaked. My voice was little more than a rasp. “Here!”
I forced myself to focus, to assess. I still had no mana. No Shadow Stepping out. With a grimace, I reached up and took hold of a large ridge of rock. I tried to haul myself up and screamed. Or tried to scream. A thin hiss was all that emerged from my throat as the muscles in my back snarled and coiled in agony.
Blinking away tears, I struggled to climb, but could barely pull myself up without fainting from the pain.
“Brianna!” I croaked. I tried again, pain searing my throat. “Brianna!”
Nothing.
I put everything I had into climbing, ignoring the pain and skirting the edge of blacking out. Damn my constitution of eight! Eight strength wasn’t helping much either. For all that my hands could find the right ridges and outcroppings, pulling myself out of the crack was a nightmare.
Shaking, shivering, soaked in sweat all over again, I finally reached the top.
Five people stood before the ruined longhouse. They held hands and were facing each other in a circle while wisps of purple and white fire swirled around them.
“No,” I whispered. I wanted to wave, but to even let go with one hand would send me sliding back down. “Brianna!”
The fire grew into a funnel, hiding them from sight, and then it collapsed upon itself and was gone, taking the five figures along with it.
I stared, glassy-eyed with shock. A mass teleportation spell. They’d left me.
A cold wind whipped over the meadow, setting the high grass to whispering, and then swirled past me, cooling my brow, and was gone.
I was all alone.
It took serious mental effort to gather myself and finish climbing out of the crack. When I finally cleared the edge I rolled out onto the grass and lay staring up sightlessly at the clouds.
Death March. I was in Death March mode with only a dagger and abysmal stats in a ruined guild site where the wandering mobs were ogre level or worse.
I don’t know for how long I lay there, but eventually basic survival instincts kicked in. If I didn’t move, I’d be found by something, and I was in no condition to even pretend to resist. With much cursing and effort, I stood and then hobbled back to the longhouse. I slipped in through the toppled double doors, entered the rubble- and rafter-strewn main hall, and then found an out-of-the-way corner from which I could sit and watch the entrance.
Think. I’d spent too much time already in panic mode. What could I do? Brianna wouldn’t have abandoned me after a quick search of the meadow. She’d be teleporting around, trying to see where I might have wandered off to.
Or that’s what she probably did half an hour ago, or however long it had taken me to recover from the climb. I groaned. Who was to say she hadn’t given up?
I could set a fire. Send smoke up into the sky, draw her back. Gamble that she’d return before the ogres.
No. I knew the ogres were in the area. I’d no idea if Brianna still was.
Time to play smart.
First thing I needed to do was heal. If Brianna came back, she’d check this burnt-out building again. My best bet was to rest, regain my health, and hope she’d show. Shock, pain, and exhaustion settled over me like a leaden cape. I stared mutely at the longhouse doors until fatigue stole over me and I slept.
Night had fallen when I awoke. I stretched and felt a bubbly sense of energy in my limbs, an eagerness to get going. I paused to marvel; most of the pain was gone only to be replaced with serious hunger pangs.
No sign of Brianna.
I climbed to my feet, crept to the closest window, and peered out to examine the meadow.
The grass was silvered by a full moon that hung low over the western mountain peaks, but right now I didn’t care for Euphoria’s artistry. What mattered was survival.
After watching the meadow for a good five minutes and not spotting any threats, I checked my character sheet. My single point of mana had returned, so I made my way out the door and along the wall to the building’s corner.
S
till nothing.
I bit my lower lip. Hang out and wait for Brianna some more, or take the initiative and try to find someone in the town below? Despite its abandoned appearance, you never knew. Perhaps I’d find some food and water.
The thought of food made my stomach growl and that decided me. Hunched over low, I scurried across the moonlit meadow and toward the path that led to town. I kept a wary eye on the forest’s edge to my left. The ogres were under no compunction to emerge from the same spot again, but something primal forced me to keep an eye on it.
I reached the path and made my way down. Like the meadow, this stretch betrayed the remains of a once-grand street, and here and there rose ruined, creeper-clad columns that might once have been sources of light or celebratory markers.
The lake gleamed like a silver coin. To my despair, there were few sources of light in the village, and those few were green fires on its far side. I kept going, however. Food. I’d never had to suffer hunger while playing virtual reality games. Sure my character would often become hungry, but me, the player? Never. All I’d ever had to do was pull off my headset and grab a bite. Euphoria Online was a completely different ball game, and getting a sense of all the downsides. Hunger. Thirst. Pain. It was one thing to intellectually know you’d experience them, another to feel your stomach roil and gurgle.
The path entered the forest as it leveled out. Should I leave the path to avoid trouble? With my terrible stats, I’d probably get lost the second I did. So instead I crept forward, listening intently. The woods were quiet. Because it was night time, or because something dangerous lurked close by?
Suddenly, a level in ranger sounded like an attractive proposition.
Nothing waylaid me, however, and five minutes later I emerged back out into the open, the lake before me, the small town on its left shore. I hesitated. The moon was so bright that I doubted Shadow Step would work in the open. Was that someone walking slowly between two of the closest houses? I squinted then shook my head. I looked up at the dark castle. Nothing there, either.
With a sigh, I decided to follow the forest’s edge to where it came closest to the village, and only then leave its shelter. I moved at a jog, trying to stay quiet and having a heart attack each time I stepped on a twig or caught my foot on a root.
A splash disturbed the water of the lake. I looked over, expecting to see the expanding ripples that indicated a curious fish, but instead a long, suckered tentacle undulated in the air in the middle of the lake. It slipped sinuously back into the water and vanished.
I stood there, eyes wide. That tentacle had been longer than I was tall. I’d killed scores of underwater creatures like that with my Golden Dawn paladin, but here? With this noob character? I wouldn’t have a chance.
I ran my hand through my sweat-matted hair. What the hell kind of zone was this? Ogres? Lake monsters? Where the hell were the cute goblin mobs or rats for me to cut my teeth on and level up?
I ran the rest of the way to the crossing point then spent a good ten minutes nerving myself up for the dash to the closest village building. This close, I could make out more detail. It had the look of a typical medieval town, built where a broad stream flowed down into the lake with a quaint bridge arching over it. The buildings were rugged and made of stone, but about half of them had been demolished or knocked over, leaving a wasteland of ruins from which the few surviving buildings emerged.
No lights. No smell of smoke. Just a clear and aching silence that made me certain of my solitude.
A quick dash would take me to a group of three small homes at the village’s edge. They were clustered together as if in fear. I bit my lower lip, took one last look around, then ran hunched over nearly double as quickly as I could.
For some ten seconds I felt heart stopping terror as I ran across open ground, then I fell into a crouch in the shadows of the closest building and tried to listen over my pounding pulse. I waited till I was sure nothing had spotted me, then inched up to the closest window and peered inside.
Darkness and the faint smell of rotting meat. Great. Were the original inhabitants still here? I moved to enter then froze: this was a fantasy world. Who was to say the bodies wouldn’t come back to life to welcome me with a big hug? I stared down at my curved knife. How much use would it be against zombies?
A muffled curse sounded ahead and I nearly leapt into the abandoned house regardless. A figure darted through the gloom, briefly visible between two houses close by, followed by what looked like a half-dozen rats. Well, rats if they grew as large as dogs.
Instinct kicked in. I ran closer. Panting for breath, cursing my low constitution, I hit the closest wall, pressed myself against it, then edged along till I could peer into the courtyard beyond.
The figure had backed herself into a corner. She held a scepter of some kind before her, the prongs at the top glowing with a cold blue light, illuminating both her wide-eyed panic and the four rat-dogs that were edging closer.
None of them had noticed me. My throat was dry. Each rat-dog stood taller than my knee, their bodies supple and muscled under their smooth coats, and their tails looked to end in scorpion stingers.
Great.
The woman was jerking her scepter from one side to the other as if trying to keep it directly before each rat-dog. It wasn’t working.
Moving as quietly as I could, I ghosted into the courtyard, then ran to the closest rat-dog. My feet barely whispered over the cobblestones, and at the last moment the girl’s eyes widened as she saw me. I bit back a cry and stabbed my dagger between the rat-dog’s shoulder blades.
The dagger sank in to the hilt and the rat-dog shrilled, spasming and lashing down at my hand with its stinger.
But I didn’t wait. The moment my dagger hit home, I yanked it free and desperately thought of Shadow Step, willing myself with all my being to appear on the far side of a second rat-dog that was twisting to face me.
Shadows coiled and enveloped me. For a moment I drowned in nothingness and then I stepped out into the darkness beside my next target.
No time for hesitation. Years of gaming in VR served me in good stead. stabbed the rat-dog’s neck. The tip of the blade slid off bone and sank deep; the rat-dog chittered and then its stinger plunged into my shoulder.
I cried out more in shock than pain and leapt back, but already throbbing heat was spreading through my muscle, followed quickly by numbness.
My heart sank: neither of my blows had been mortal. All four of the rat-dogs focused on me, and the closest— the one whose neck I’d sliced—crouched as if preparing to leap right for my throat.
I was out of mana. I couldn’t engage Stealth with them all staring at me. No way to Backstab. I shot a desperate glance at the woman. “Help!”
She thrust her scepter into the air. “From the heart of glaciers, blue-green to black, I summon forth the coldest shards and send them to attack!”
The lines were a little cheesy, sure, but I cheered regardless as hand-sized shards of ice rained down upon the rat-dogs with stunning speed and force.
The two I’d wounded quickly succumbed; a dozen new wounds opened across their bodies and they collapsed before the assault. The other two hesitated, then ran off, disappearing into the night without a sound.
When the ice storm ended I let out a shocked laugh and slid down the wall to my ass. A chime sound from somewhere close. My left arm had gone completely numb and I couldn’t move it.
“Come on!” said the woman, reaching to hook her free hand under my arm and hoist me up. “What the hell are you sitting down for?”
“Funny way to say thanks,” I mumbled. The throbbing heat was now working its way up my neck and across my chest. Whatever the poison was, I’d clearly failed my constitution save.
The woman didn’t quip back, but instead hauled me across the courtyard and into a doorway, pausing only to scoop up a hempen sack. I staggered in the da
rk, but she knew where she was going; we crossed the room, stopped as she lifted a trapdoor of some kind, and then she turned me around.
“There’s a ladder leading down. You’ll have to descend in the dark. We can’t risk being spotted. Hurry!”
I sheathed my dagger and carefully knelt. My foot found the trapdoor’s edge, then tapped around till I found the ladder’s uppermost rung. With care I climbed down, fighting off the stupor that was stealing across my mind, doing my best with only one functioning arm. Perhaps fifteen rungs down, I hit the floor and stepped away with a stagger.
A small room. I could tell from the closeness of the air. The ladder creaked; the trapdoor closed, a bolt slid home, then the woman climbed the rest of the way down and a small ball of soothing white light appeared over her open palm.
I got my first good look at her. Early twenties, human but with pointed ears, and with shoulder-length black hair held back by a silver band about her brow. She was attractive in a hard-bitten way, striking more than pretty, with no softness in her eyes as she examined me.
“Level one?” She sounded like my existence personally insulted her. “You’re level one?!”
“Yeah, yeah, try it from this side.” I looked around for somewhere to sit. As far as lairs went, it left a lot to be desired. A pallet along one wall. A small chest. A bucket that absolutely reeked, and a small pile of books. One wall was honeycombed with shelving from which the necks of hundreds of dusty wine bottles emerged. “Nice digs. I like what you’ve done with the place. And wine. Brilliant.”
“Sit,” she snapped. I didn’t resist, and sank onto the small chest. “I don’t have any healing spells, but I do have this.” She pulled out a vial from a pouch. She shook it till it emitted a soft blue light.
“A glow stick?” My thoughts were racing, making it hard to focus. “You want to party?”
“A healing potion,” she said. “One I’d been saving for myself. But you did technically save me, so...” She grimaced, plucked the cork free with her teeth, and held the vial out to me.
