“We feast!” the governor says, and his attendants wait for him to shoo them along before they head to the fancy buffet. Waiters in collarless black tunics file out of a side entrance, carrying with them special dishes for the banquet tables. Beautiful female waitresses with hors d’ouevres appear seemingly out of nowhere, smiling as they filter into the crowd.
“I’ll be back in a second,” I tell Sam and the governor.
Before they can protest, I head to the back of the seaside manor and after passing under an archway covered in vines, I hear the metal clink and clank of Brunas the weaponsmith working in his small smithery.
I glance over my shoulder to see Wolf close behind me.
“Go back and get some food,” I tell him.
His tail drops between his legs.
“It’s fine, buddy, I’ll just be a second.”
He gives me the “are you sure?” look.
I grin at the towering canine as I walk back over to him. I crouch in front of him and he starts to lick my face. “Listen, that pig in there isn’t going to eat itself. Go bother Sam about it or hell, take the pig right off the table if you want.”
His head twists to the right as he looks at me curiously.
“Kidding, don’t do that. I’ll be right back, so save me a plate.”
I turn back to the blacksmith’s shop just as Brunas walks out, sweat dripping from his face.
“Is there food yet?” he asks.
“There is,” I call to him, “but before we go and check that out … ”
I unsheathe my Splintered Sword and turn it inward so it gleams in his direction. Brunas smacks his big hand across his forehead and wipes some grimy sweat away. “So it is possible, then.” He says, his eyes suddenly filled with awe.
“It is indeed possible.”
The stocky man laughs. “Ha! I guess I was wrong, and I guess you’re not here to show off your busted sword, are you?”
“Nope,” I tell him. “I’m here to collect on a promise.”
“Well, I told you I’d give you service for life if you could prove me wrong, and you’ve definitely proved me wrong. Let me take a look at it.”
Brunas approaches me and I hand him the weapon by turning the hilt to the side, extending my arm, and placing the blade across it.
He takes a step back, swings it, and twists it a few times. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but it’s not bad. It’s really not too bad. So what do you want done to it?”
My smile hardens. “I need you to make it sharper, better, stronger – and I don’t want its style, shape, or overall weight to change.”
He considers this for a moment.
“Well? Do you think you could do it?”
“I reckon I could take a look at it,” he says, smiling at me with his big, bushy eyebrows. “Sure, Oric, I’ll get it fixed up, but it’ll take me a day. You have a little time, don’t you?”
The blood-red sky above leads me to believe otherwise.
“I have time, but not as much as I’d like,” I finally tell him. “Tomorrow, I’m planning to go back to the mainland and head north from there.”
“Tomorrow, huh?” He admires the weapon again, turning the blade in his hands. “Fine, fine. I’ll get it done today and tonight.” He takes my Splintered Sword into his shop and sets it down. “But first we feast.”
Brunas joins me and together we walk back to the courtyard, just in time to find Governor Talonas giving a toast.
“May this world see new warrior heroes,” the governor says, looking from Sam to me, “and may these warrior heroes rise to the occasion, go where no warrior has gone before. May these warrior heroes stop the inevitable, and if they are unable to, may they at least give us a few, final peaceful moments with our loved ones. But for now, let the festivities begin!”
The end.
Short Story: Chance Encounters
A Last Warrior of Unigaea Short Story
Part One: A Mage, a Vampiric Mermaid, a Giant Wolf
Dogs are supposed to be man’s best friend, not wolves.
I’m reminded of this as I stand before the Tagvornin canine, my hand outstretched and fear whipping through me.
Careful, Oric, I think as he sniffs my hand. I’ve named him Wolf because, well, I’m not very creative.
The snarl hasn’t quite left his face, but he does seem more relaxed than earlier. His fur is jet black, his eye a striking blue-green combination. He’s larger than a pony, easily big enough to ride, and my heart relaxes once his face softens.
“Easy, Wolf,” I say, using the temporary name I’ve given him.
He doesn’t let me pet him this time, but he doesn’t bite me either. So I guess that’s called progress.
And all it would take is one bite.
In Unigaea, if you die, you die. That’s it. Game over. You will never be able to play as the avatar you’ve spent weeks, months or even years developing. A quick slip down an icy path, stomach sickness from eating goblin food, an arrow to the heart – all are equally lethal in Unigaea.
I sit on a rock as my stats appear before me:
Oric Rune
Class: Level 1 Player Killer
Subclass: Level 1 Herbalist
INFAMY: 0 Players killed
HP: 271/271
HP recovery rate: 2% per minute
ATK: 41 +51
DEF: 72 +9
Attributes
STRENGTH: 1
WILL: 0
DEXTERITY: 1
MIND: 0
SPEED: 1
Wolf and I have been traveling all night through the Eastern Splits.
We hardly know each other, just met a few hours ago, but even though he hasn’t quite warmed up to me, there is a bond and again, he hasn’t tried to eat me.
Which must count for something.
Even though I’ve had a little time to develop my new avatar, the fact that I’m a Player Killer is still hard to fathom. There’s an advantage of being a Player Killer: for every five real players I kill, I’m granted a bonus attribute point.
But I’ve yet to kill any actual people to utilize this advantage. Still don’t have the stomach for it.
My status as a Player Killer also describes why I’m traveling at night. People hound me everywhere I go, and while I’ve gotten stronger over the past two days, I’d rather sleep during the day and come out at night like a goddamn vampire.
At least people leave me alone that way.
I still can’t believe I haven’t leveled.
Maybe this was a handicap put in to persuade new avatars away from being Player Killers. Everyone wants to be a badass until they realize that being a badass ain’t all it’s cracked up to be.
A bush a few feet away catches my attention.
My herbalist ability kicks into gear, and I know instantly, without knowing what it is exactly, that the bush may come in handy at some point.
I move over to it and a handle appears above the bush, the words fading just as soon as they flash before me.
“Burn bush, huh?” My small knife in hand, I start cut the bush from its roots.
A blast of magic tears through the early morning light, ruining any chances I’ll have of gardening.
“Shit!” The magic hits me and I spill right. My free hand goes to my broken sword, which is sheathed across my back. Broken into three distinct peaks, my sword came with my avatar.
I’ve had the option to sell it or upgrade, but I haven’t done the deed. Somehow the splintered blade and it’s slight impracticality defines who I am.
“Where are you?” I scream into the darkness.
The spellcaster can’t be far off.
An blast of magic from behind cuts my legs out from beneath me.
I hit the ground and the wind clears from my lungs. Fuck! A deep breath in; I just barely avoid the the sharp end of a long cane.
The mage cries out as Wolf leaps onto him.
The Tagvornin beast goes straight for the mage’s jugular, and it isn’
t long before he has bloody maw.
-28 HP! -75 HP! -38 HP!
“A player character?” I whisper as I see the blue icon flash over the mage’s head. “That’s one mine!” I tell Wolf, and much to my surprise, the big Tagvornin beast backs away, leaving the guy clutching his bloody throat.
“Kill me,” he whispers as I approach him.
“Oh, I plan to,” I tell the bastard who tried to surprise attack me.
Even though my voice my reeks of confidence, my hands still tremble. I have fought other players through avatars I’ve taken in the past, but I’ve never actually killed one.
Not in cold blood, at least.
He’s a low level Dark Mage, half-something by the looks of it.
That’s another thing I’ve noticed with my new avatar: because of low number of attribute points assigned to mind, I don’t have the wit I would normally have in real life – my real life, up there in Chicago – or the same intelligence level as other avatars I’ve taken in the past.
“Do it!” the mage screams, bloody spit spraying from his mouth.
I let him wait just a little longer.
If I didn’t need the infamy point from killing this guy, I may just let him rot here until he passes naturally. If you are gravely injured in Unigaea, you aren’t able to logout, a cruel and unusual punishment.
“But that’s torture,” I say to Wolf, who looks at my curiously. “And we don’t torture.”
“Fuck you!” the mage shouts, blood spraying from his lips.
Instakill!
I drive my blade deep into his chest and twist it, the three prongs at my sword’s tips stirring up his inner organs.
+1 infamy!
The shock from my act nearly knocks me over.
I’ve killed someone.
I gulp the thought down, steel myself, and wipe my Splintered Sword on his robes.
“We’re almost to Ducat,” I tell Wolf, my mouth suddenly dry, the urge to look away and forget what I’ve done strong. The mention of my former village causes a pang of anguish in my chest.
I have to see it, I remind myself for the hundredth time since taking this journey, I have to remember why it is I have returned to Unigaea.
***
“I’m hungry too,” I tell the big black wolf, whom I’ve named Wolf because I just can’t seem to be creative with my new avatar.
Maybe it’s your points in MIND.
“Yeah, maybe,” I tell the voice in my head as I walk along the coastline. The Seleucid Sea to my right, I’m hoping something has washed up on the shore, something big enough for Wolf and me to share. “What’s wrong with you?” I ask him.
He pants, stares at the ocean with a cross look on his face, and pants some more.
I step into the water with my sea dragon skin boot and kick a little water at him. He yelps, and starts to run away from me.
“Hey!” I call after him. His ears perk up as he looks me over nervously. “It’s just a little water. What kind of dog doesn’t like water?” I ask as I continue walking along the beach.
The memory of walking along a beach not far from here comes to me. That was a much simpler time, back in my previous avatar when I was mayor of Ducat. We’d just finished building the streets and a few of the buildings near the port when I decided I’d like to have a camping trip.
I chose a place known as Obelisk Sands because of the odd coloration of the sands.
The black sands are famous across the continent of Unigaea, used in everything from body scrubs to painting textures. In Rial Resort Town, they boil the sands down and extracted the tiny amount of salt from them. This salt is also used in the hot baths and the exclusive spas of the city.
“That’s where we should go,” I jokingly tell Wolf, “Rial Resort Town. You’d like it.”
I laugh and turn to make sure he’s still following me.
Truth be told, as much as people hate a Player Killer, they’d really hate to see a Player Killer with a Tagvornin Wolf. Exclusive to the north eastern part of the continent, Tagvornin Wolves were usually ridden by the Tagvornins, an arctic people who redefined killer instincts. The wolves were black, hulking, and aggressive.
I still have no idea what this particular wolf was doing in the Eastern Split Mountains when I first encountered him.
“You were a long way from home,” I remind him. Wolf barks and I turn back to see him watching a seagull. He barks again and drops to his front haunches, his big blue eyes tracking the bird. “You like seagull, huh?”
The bird swoops down to the water and I get an idea.
I call Wolf over to me and I tell him to sit quietly next to me. He obeys and licks his lips as I equip a crossbow pistol that came with my avatar.
“I’m going to get you that bird, but we’ll need to wait until it flies back over here.” I hear the squawk of a couple more seagulls. “Or we could get one of those ones.”
A reticle appears on the seagull and I swipe it away.
I never liked playing with handicaps, and after my first shot, which goes wide, I’m reminded just how hard it is to hunt without them. The seagulls squawk, one of the smarter ones gets the hell out of Dodge, but most of them continue to circle.
No matter, I say as I load another bolt in.
Knowing that I shouldn’t rely on built-in handicaps, I target the next seagull, wait for it, track him, and fire just a hair in front of him.
Instakill!
“Yes!”
Wolf races over to the seagull, gets him by the neck, and brings him back to me.
“Good boy!” I say as I pet his head.
The other seagulls start to fly away. “All right, that’s not a lot of food for two growing boys.” I laugh as I quickly load another bolt in. “So, let’s see if I can get another.”
***
I don’t end up getting the second seagull, which leaves me with one seagull to share with a wolf large enough to ride.
I figure he could use the protein more than me, so rather than cook it up, I cut the bird’s head off, drain the blood, pluck the feathers, and then toss Wolf the meat.
To satiate my own hunger, I eat a bit of the Blue Melon jerky I have in my inventory list. The stuff isn’t bad, and the added tangy sweetness of the Blue Melon definitely makes it taste better.
The thought of riding Wolf comes to me again. We would be able to travel much faster if I could ride him but… ride a wolf?
I consider the idea for a moment as I watch him, well, wolf down the seagull.
“There are bones in there too, you know!”
He looks up at me with his haunting blue-green eyes and licks his lips.
“Yeah, maybe I should try to ride you.”
Wolf barks and his tail dips between his legs.
“Yeah, yeah, okay, I’ll walk. Or jog. You up for a little jog?”
I stand, stretch my arms over my head, glance to Wolf with an excited look on my face, and start running. He easily catches up. And once he realizes I’m playing, he nips at my feet a little as I jog towards the north east.
It’s a damn good workout, I think as my feet dip in and out of the sand. With my increased stamina as a Player Killer, I’m able to keep this pace for a good forty-five minutes before I start to get winded.
Just in time too.
Not far away, I see something has pulled up onto the shore. From my current location, about a quarter mile away, it appears to be a large fish.
The almost grin on Wolf’s face thins as his ears flit back.
“What is it, boy?” I ask, crouching next to him.
He sniffs the air and turns to me.
“Shit, I wish you were more of a familiar and less of a random wolf I encountered in the mountains. Um...”
Nope, I’m not going to pull up my map and see where we are.
I know we’re approaching Obelisk Sands. I can tell because of the way the sands have started to change color. Besides, Obelisk Sands, like many amazing locations in Unigaea, isn’t actually on the m
ap given to all players.
This is to encourage exploration and for people to make their own discoveries. There are entire towns not on the map.
“It’s Obelisk Sands,” I say as I touch the sand and rub some between my fingers.
I don’t believe the superstitions of many of the local, Unigaean NPCs, but I have encountered magic here when I camped not far from the shoreline.
“It’s just a big fish,” I tell Wolf. “But let’s be cautious anyway. Hell, if we’re lucky, we can eat some of it.”
Once we’re closer to the beached creature, and I can see what it actually is, I quickly unsheathe my Splintered Sword.
A vampiric mermaid?
I inspect the woman as her tail moves up and down. She sees me too, her eyes visibly red, even from this distance.
Wolf barks, looks to me for reassurance, and barks again.
“Easy,” I tell him as we cautiously approach the woman. She’s naked, her skin the color of caramel, her brunette hair accented by streaks of yellow. A single braid wrapped around her head keeps her hair out of her face.
“Oric Rune,” she says, baring her fangs.
“Yeah, that’s my name.” I say, my weapon at the ready.
Using her arms, she lifts herself up until she’s in a upward facing dog pose.
“We’re just going to keep moving along,” I tell her as Wolf cowers behind me.
Her serpent tongue drops from her mouth and traces her lips. “Won’t you come closer?” she asks, her voice all around me now.
“Fuck no, I won’t come closer,” I say, flourishing my sword. “I don’t know what you are doing so far away from Hashmonean, but the wolf and I are moving along.”
The vampiric mermaids of Hashmonean love to prey on Unigaeans, NPCs and commoners alike. I’ve heard horror stories of them coming aboard a ship, sucking all the blood from the ship’s inhabitants, and leaving the ship floating in the sea, only to be discovered later by a merchant vessel.
“Your wolf?”
Something flashes behind her red eyes, and the angry look on Wolf’s face softens. He nods his head up and down, and takes a step closer to her, his whiskers twitching on his face.
The Last Warrior of Unigaea Box Set: A Fantasy LitRPG Adventure Page 19
