by Charles Dean
“What’s it do?” one of the Succubi asked, leaning in on his shoulder.
“Yeah, what’s the deal with that green bottle? Is it like Powerade?” The Minotaur shifted closer to the group leader as well in order to get a better look.
“Come on, Tubal, what’s it do?” the Satyr whined.
They all are curious, not hostile. This is good. Locke’s grin turned from fake to real as he watched the group crowd around the leader to figure out what the potion did. Seizing on the moment, he pulled out another one from his bag and extended it to one of the Succubi. “Here, take a look yourself,” he said before pulling out another and handing it to the other Succubus. Not wanting to let the opportunity pass, he took the reins. One by one, he passed one of his Journeyman’s Deadly Poisons to each of the five remaining group members. Make them think the product is theirs, and rightfully so, and it’ll be that much harder to walk away from the sale. You know this, Locke.
“Go ahead and apply it to your weapons. I can make plenty more whenever I need.” He made sure not to phrase it like he had plenty more on him. “Just consider this first batch of poison a gift, and give it a try. If you’re not a hundred percent satisfied, don’t bother returning it! It’ll kill me if you do.” He threw in a forced laugh at his own terrible joke, causing the Minotaur to join him. Thank the big man upstairs there is always one laugher in every group who will find even an awkward silence funny as long as someone else laughs first. “Go on! Apply it!”
Slowly, with careful hands as if one wrong move would cost them their precious gear, they all put it on their weapons. Tubal, the leader, carefully applied it on some arrows. “These are actually really good. What do you want for them?” Tubal asked, looking at his group to make sure they were all on the same page as he extended the offer. “How many silvers are you expecting for each one?”
Ooooh, you novice. You should have asked how many coppers I was expecting for each one. Now, you’ve already let me know you’re willing to pay more than two silvers for each one. Considering they’re dirt cheap to make, you’re letting me rip you off! You’re just lucky that . . . “I don’t want any money for them.”
“What are you talking about? You clearly are trying to sell them, right? You’re not just giving them away, are you?” the Satyr asked, his voice echoing out over the others.
“Oh, I’m not giving them away. I still want to sell them, and if you think my offer is terrible, then I won’t press and will take three silvers a potion.” Locke eyed the group nervously. “Actually, what I want is a lot cheaper, though, and, if you hear me out, I can make sure you have enough of those five-minute poisons to farm with all day. What I want is . . . What I want is to be a part of your group for the day. I won’t eat up much experience, but in return for that generosity, while you farm I can keep making you extras to reapply every five minutes, really helping you level faster. Not to mention, as time goes on, I’ll have even better wares for you!”
They all blinked in unison, clearly taken back by the offer. “You want, you want to be a part of our group?” Tubal asked.
“I think that is what he said,” one of the Succubi smart-mouthed back. “It makes sense too: Who wouldn’t want to be partnered up with me?”
“You’re roleplaying that Succubus way too hard,” the Minotaur said with a laugh and looked at his weapon. “I’m okay with it. This poison will really help us out, I think.”
“Five,” Tubal spoke loud enough to cut the chatter of the group behind him. “Five extra potions you’ll leave with us for every hour you leech, and you have a deal.”
“That sounds perfectly fair to me.” Locke stuck out his hand to seal the agreement. “I’m L--” he paused and shook his head. Too close. Remember what Ash said. “I’m Shy, your friendly Level-one Alchemist.”
Tubal stared at the extended hand, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging half open. “Level 1?” he asked as he finally accepted the gesture. “This zone is designed for groups that are Level 40. There’s only a handful of level 1 enemies around here, and they’re scattered in with everything stronger. What are you doing out here at Level 1?”
“A merchant has to keep his secrets, you know,” Locke answered with a laugh, content with never revealing the truth. Wow . . . and Ash said that this was a low-level zone. I guess I shouldn’t tell them that I was banned by one freak on a power trip and then restored here by another weirdo on her own just to mess with me. It probably wouldn’t be the best story to tell, especially if Ash really is watching.
“Well, either way, we’re the Blue Phoenix Brigade, and you’re welcome to join us as long as you can keep us supplied. I’m Tubal, and these two Succubi are Bianca and Katherine. That Minotaur over there is Mr. Axe-Fetis--”
The Minotaur smashed his axe into the ground before he spoke to interrupt Tubal. “Not again! My name is Sampson. Stop teasing me, Tubal.”
“That Satyr over there is our priest. He is basically our Doctor Whom or something like that.”
“I also tend to go by the name Reginald on occasion.” The Satyr shrugged off the poorly executed jest. He didn’t seem to be half as concerned about the mix up as Sampson had been. “And we generally just call the dragonboy Sparky.”
“It works,” the Dragon-Wing said, not disputing the name at all.
He does realize that’s a dog’s name, right? I’ve actually seen a dog named Locke, so I probably shouldn’t point that out. “Well, it’s nice to meet you all. What are we killing?”
“Time at this rate,” Reginald said with a frown. “Let’s get back out there before we lose daylight.”
You have been invited to Tubal’s Party. Would you like to Accept or Reject?
“Sounds great.” Accept. “If you guys don’t mind, since I’m a pretty low level, I’m just going to hang in the back and watch you all fight while I keep crafting. I have to stay at this pretty much twenty-four seven to keep the numbers up, but you’ll love my new recipes.”
“I feel like I’ve heard that line before,” Katherine said, scratching her head. “Either way, it’s fine by me. You just better make sure Tubal doesn’t see you slacking there, Mr. Daisy Picker.”
Locke decided to let the insult slide. “I’ll take that moniker as a compliment. After all, nothing feels more manly in a videogame than signing up to play an immersive role-playing game centered around slaying dragons and toppling empires and then spending most of your time picking flowers.”
Sampson chuckled and said, “No judgment here, but that sounds exactly like my Skyrim experience. If the Alchemist class had been available when I first rolled this bad boy, I’d probably be right next to you uprooting every garden from here to Alcinous.”
“Alcinous?” The Succubi and Tubal turned their heads.
“You know, that beautiful Odyssey . . . Never mind. But yeah, no shame, little man. Carry on with your weeds!”
“No lying, Sampson,” Sparky said and slammed his shield with his sword. “You could never pass up the urge to fight. The thrill of battle, the call that sounds throughout your blood and beckons you to war! Hearken to the trumpet of glory!”
“Don’t mind him. He’s like that,” Bianca said in a low tone just for Locke.
“I see,” Locke returned in a whisper.
“Well” --Sampson looked at his axe-- “I guess you’re right,” he conceded. “I don’t think I could ever pick a class that didn’t have fighting moves or specialize in combat. I wish they had made it a crafting skill though like in other MMOs. I think it’s silly that you have to pick Alchemist, Blacksmith or one of the crafting skills just to make the gear. I can’t imagine more than a few dozen people in the entire game that would give up magic- and might-based combat in favor of making weapons that you can find in dungeons . . . or potions that don’t last more than five minutes.”
“All good points, but seriously, why would you pick that class?” Tubal asked. “Isn’t it going to be boring, watching everyone else having fun while you are only picking flowers?
That will have to get tedious after a while. Not that we’re not grateful for the potions, but it’s just that you have our sympathy on the class.”
Locke frowned. There isn’t really anything to say to this. How could I reply? ‘Well, I picked this class so I could make a ton of money in real life while playing video games.’ It was even less impressive considering that he wasn’t even really playing a game. He was just working inside Tiqpa.
“Let’s . . . Let’s just go level,” he said, trying to change the topic to something fun like getting experience.
They didn’t have to travel far until they ran into their first fight, which posed little threat to Locke given his role and position outside the fray. He planned on doing his best to pick up every flower, regardless of whether or not it was the one he needed, and to stay close behind the group. He knew that he was going to be useless whenever they got in a fight, but that didn’t mean he wanted to wander off too far away from them, either. For someone in his situation, leeching experience off a group, positioning was everything. It wasn’t going to be so much of a struggle to help with the fight as a fight not to make the group struggle. Even if he was to do enough damage to help, he would probably just end up being killed on the spot should one of the foes turn and swing at him.
The first set of ‘mobs,’ a common term for enemy monsters to kill for experience and items, was actually a group of giant snakes. They were at least ten feet long, bigger around than most people’s thighs, and each sported a spiked ball about the size of a man’s head on the end of its tail. In the group that Tubal’s party approached, three Knight-Clubbing Snakes were curled up tightly so that their heads, which hung from the top of the coil, and clubs, which slid across the ground from the bottom of the coil, were the only parts of their scaled bodies that protruded from the four-foot-high bundles.
“Careful, these snakes are a lot tougher than the usual mobs in the forest. They can shatter Reginald’s shields in one hit, and we don’t have any way to revive you out here after the fight. So, if you die, there goes our potions,” Tubal cautioned.
“So what’s the game plan, boss? There’s one more here than there was last time.” Sampson pulled his axe off of his back as he spoke and stared down the enemy. His mouth hung open when he finished speaking, and Locke could tell that the bovine was practically salivating as he looked at the snakes.
“We can try the same plan as last time, but we’re going to have to be more careful. Bianca, Katherine, I’m going to need you two to grab the one on the right. I’ll draw out the one on the left, so you three just work on that middle one just like we did last time,” he instructed, looking between Sampson, Sparky and Reginald. “Blue Phoenix Brigade doesn’t lose people!” Tubal shouted excitedly.
“Blue Phoenix Brigade!” the others shouted back in unison, causing Locke to feel a little jealous. He had never been part of a group like that, since work had always gotten in the way of any comradery.
And while you’re doing that, I’m going to just work on my potions. Locke planted himself so that he had a good view of the clearing that would soon host the death of at least three creatures and went back to work gathering the materials he needed.
The snakes watched as Tubal and the Succubi circled around them until they were on either side, and then the giant serpents began untangling their bodies. Tubal drew his bow and readied an arrow, and the Succubi spread their wings, took to the air, and started flapping until they had lifted themselves at least ten feet off the ground, a height that looked like it would be just high enough to stay out of reach of the Knight-Clubbers.
Katherine, only different from Bianca in that she had longer hair, was the first to make a move. She readied her whip and cracked it across the distance right in front of the snake, drawing its head up and into the air. The whip looked nasty enough to flay skin off a grown man, but it barely phased the creature and only served to draw its attention as the monster quickly slithered toward the pair. Before it could get directly under them, however, the two began furiously snapping their whips toward the creature’s head. Finally, one of Bianca’s attacks managed to wrap the leather cord around the snake’s neck. She pulled as hard as she could and yanked the front half of the snake into the air.
“This thing is heavier than Sampson!” Bianca complained. “Can you give me a hand?”
“On it,” Katherine answered, her own whip twisting around the serpentine head at just that moment. She furiously beat her wings and heaved upward as she assisted Bianca in hoisting the snake’s head. Even caught in a noose and hoisted above the ground, the creature was still a threat to anyone that wasn’t airborne. It swung its tail back and forth, smashing into trees and bushes, and its body heaved back and forth on the ground attempting to curl and uncurl.
“We don’t have forever,” Bianca shouted down to the others. “You two better be quick!”
Locke looked over and saw that both Tubal and Sparky had already engaged their respective snakes. Tubal did nothing more than shoot a few arrows into his snake before he turned and ran as fast as his little legs would carry him. Unfortunately for him, he wasn’t faster than the Knight-Clubber. Slowly but surely, the terrifying creature gained ground on the fleeing man. You’ve probably got about five minutes to circle around and get someone to peel that off you before things go south, Locke speculated as he watched the sprinter dash off into the woods.
The first crack of Katherine’s whip had been like the starting gun at a race for Sparky and Sampson, and they both dashed forward in a mad bull-rush. Sampson, his axe once more holstered onto his back, trailed in Sparky’s drag. Before Sparky got in range, however, the Knight-Clubber hissed and uncoiled so quickly that Locke couldn’t clearly make out its movements. Its giant tail whipped about with the momentum of the uncoiling and struck out towards Sparky. Reginald waved his staff about while muttering something to himself, and a mostly-transparent yellow shield appeared three feet in front of Sparky. The defensive spell only extended as a ninety-degree cone in whatever direction Sparky was facing, and Locke recognized it immediately from all the time he had spent watching gameplay clips. It was a simple spell that stopped all incoming physical or magical attacks until a damage threshold was reached, and after that, it’d break. The force of the serpent’s attack instantly shattered the protective yellow barrier, and the spiked ball on its tail slammed into Sparky’s metal shield, causing it to ring out like a gong, and the Dragon-Wing went flying back into Sampson.
“Thanks, comrade,” Sparky said as Sampson pushed him back into the fight against the now-uncoiled snake. “Flank on the left. This’ll be cake. To Glory!”
“Don’t talk about cake. I haven’t eaten yet!” Sampson laughed at his own bad joke and whipped out his giant axe as he slowly circled around until he was right on Sparky’s left. When the snake struck again, Sparky once more blocked the attack with his shield, except that this time the beast was partially thrown to the right as he deflected the blow. Sampson took advantage of the opening with a strong downward swing. The Knight-Clubber hissed as its flesh was rent apart and a good chunk of its neck was cut open. It wasn’t enough to call a mortal wound, but the angry serpent clearly showed signs that death was soon going to knock on its door if things kept going the same way.
The next blow from the serpent was so fast that Locke barely had time to register it before the sound of its tail club rang out full-force against Sparky’s shield for the second time. The attack had been aimed at Sampson, and Sparky had responded by rapidly throwing his shield arm forward as if he was planning on punching the serpent in the head, stopping the blow just short of its intended target. The snake twisted around and aimed another attack at Sampson, once again ignoring Sparky, and attempted to bite the burly Minotaur. Sparky lashed out with his sword and struck with the flat of his blade across the side of the Knight-Clubber’s face. It was a swift slap that knocked it’s gaze off towards Sparky’s right, and, just like before, Sampson’s axe chopped into its neck. This time, howeve
r, the blow caused a lot more damage.
“Third time’s the charm!” Sampson raised his axe and brought it down into the same spot again even as the reptile tried to withdraw backward from the pain. This time, he finished the beast off.
“Ladies first?” Sampson asked and took off running toward the struggling Katherine and Bianca before his question could even be answered.
“If Tubal comes in hot, I’m working on a snare to slow the blasted thing down. Leave it to me!” Reginald called after him. Locke hadn’t been paying attention to the medic since the action had been elsewhere in the brief fight, but he noticed now that the Satyr had been busy chanting some incantation.
The struggle against the Knight-Clubber that the girls had lassoed didn’t last more than a minute and ended the same way the first one did: Sparky intercepted the blows from the tail club on his shield, and Sampson hacked away at the snake’s neck as if it were a tree that needed cutting and his axe was really a hatchet.
When the creature was dead, suspended from the Succubi’s whips, an eerie silence settled on the scene of the battle.
“Where’s Tubal?” Bianca asked, looking around.
“I don’t know, but that beast was moving a heck of a lot faster than he was. You think he’s okay? Did anyone see which way he went?” Reginald asked.
“Reggy, you were the only one who didn’t have to focus on the snakes. If anyone saw where they went, it would be you,” Bianca snapped back. Locke half-expected her to snap her fingers and throw in a ‘mhmm’ after it given the tone of her voice.
