The Quest_Last Gods Book 1

by Linton Bowers

  “Huh? What status bars?” John’s voice took on a softer edge. His eyes were no longer full of steel and venom. The first John Walker he met was back.

  “That man is strange,” The voice said.

  Actaeon looked around. “Where the heck are you? I’m getting tired of hearing you but not seeing you and then you don’t respond. Care to give it a shot now?”

  Nothing.

  “Come on. Don’t do this to me. You are the one making speaking at me whenever you feel like it. I didn’t ask for it. The least you could do is respond.” Actaeon spun in a circle as he spoke looking around. “Hello, earth to disembodied voice. Any day now, voice.”

  Nothing.

  “Interesting,” Actaeon said.

  “Huh? What is?” John asked. He shook his head as if to clear away the cobwebs.

  “Nothing buddy. Let’s get going. We have a long road ahead of us.”

  CHAPTER 31

  Fields, forests, and mountains passed unnoticed as Larion counted each step. Not once did he stop for food or water. Not a thought was given to the majestic views around him. His pace only faltered when the terrain changed. For Larion there was the pull, the next step, and his count of his steps.

  One hundred fourteen thousand three hundred and twelve…

  At step one hundred fourteen thousand six hundred and two he bumped into a person. “Oh excuse me,” the male voice said. The man turned and his eyes opened wide when he took in Larion.

  “Oh dear gods, are you alright, man?”

  Ayrin didn’t respond. He frowned at the annoyance of having been stopped. He tried to continue, to follow the call, but he ran into the obstacle again. Hand grabbed his shoulders and arrested his progress.

  “Gregor, get out here. We have a problem!”

  “What is it, Lenny? You know I’m … Good gods, what happened to him?” A second man called.

  “I do not know. He bumped into me, quite literally.”

  “Well, let's get him inside. Helgen is going to kill me for bringing another hapless wanderer into her place, but there is no place better for this sort of thing. Come with us, boy. We will see to feeding you and tending to your wounds.”

  The hands holding Larion turned him and pushed him forward. Or was it forward? It was in the wrong direction, so how could it be forward?

  Did he say injuries? Larion thought. It was the first real thought that wasn’t a number since …

  Larion looked down. His shirt was torn in several places. Scratches, dirt, and crusted blood marked his skin. His trousers were just as filthy and torn. Scratches could be seen on his thighs where the fabric had torn away. The lower portion of his pants was gone on both legs shredded just below the knees. So too were his shoes missing. Had he been wearing shoes? The most distressing thing about his condition was the state of his feet. They were black from the mixture of dirt and blood. He left crimson footprints behind him. And his feet throbbed with pain.

  Larion’s legs gave out. The two men walking with him caught him before he could fall and injure himself worse. They carried him through a set of swinging quarter doors and into an Inn common room.

  “What misfortune have you graced us with now?” A commanding male voice said. Larion looked up and saw a large man in an apron with more gray than black hair.

  “I don’t rightly know,” the second man said. “Lenny found him outside. He needs assistance if he is going to remain in this world.”

  “I bet a month’s worth of fish stew that he does. Set him in the chair by the fireplace. I’ll get the first aid kit and some food and water. Helgen will not be happy about this.” The third man Larion came across since stopping said. He made to leave the room through a door behind the bar.

  A stout woman walked out before he made it. “Helgen isn’t going to be happy about what?” She shouted. Her eyes found Larion and she stopped briefly. Then she moved at an alarmingly quick pace and dropped to her knees at Larion’s side.

  “Oh poor thing. What happened to you? Your feet and clothes. How far did you walk?” She asked.

  “You think he walked a long distance?” The first man, Lenny, asked.

  “Isn’t it obvious? Just look at his feet. He must have walked on some terribly harsh ground. And how many bramble bushes do you think it would take to do that to his clothes and skin?”

  “His back looks to have been burned. The wounds there may be infected,” the second, Gregor, said.

  “Well, go get the healing supplies and I will get him fed and watered.” She rose and marched back through the door she entered from. The third man followed her out. Larion had not yet heard his name spoke so he didn't know what to call him.

  Larion looked around taking stock of his surroundings for the first time. In a large comfortable looking chair that mirrored his own sat a girl. She kept her gaze down at her hands but her eyes would dart from them up to look at Larion from the corners of her eyes. There was a wildness to her look that made him shiver.

  Two men sat at a table with empty plates in front of them sipping from tankards. Smoke drifted lazily up from a log that had burned down to cinders. There were no other occupants with the exception of the two that brought him in. Those two, Lenny and Gregor stood a few feet away speaking in hushed tones. Larion could have made out their conversation if he cared enough to listen.

  Thump.

  He tried to stand but there wasn’t enough strength in his limbs to carry him any higher than a few inches from the chair. He fell back down into the cushions.

  A hand dropped onto his shoulder. “Do not try to get up,” Gregor said. “If you have somewhere to be we will make sure you are well enough to get there.”

  Thump.

  Larion opened his mouth to protest but a dry wheeze was all the sound he was capable of. The pain from his injuries managed to break through his trance and add to his misery.

  “After you get your strength back. Save it for then,” Lenny said. “Helgen’s cooking is more than up to the task of replenishing you. Just have give it the time it needs to do its work.”

  He couldn’t speak, but he had to tell them that he had to leave. It called and he had to go. But what if they asked about where he come from? Could Larion tell them about where he was from or what he had seen?

  “Ah, here we are now,” Lenny said. The large woman from before set a tray on his lap. There was a large flagon of ale and a plate piled high with meat and bread. Next to it was a bowl of steaming liquid that was a golden color with a few orange and green vegetable poking up. “Like I said, Helgen will get you back on your feet.”

  “Let the boy eat, Lenny.” The woman bent down in front of him. She pulled a white napkin from her apron and went about tucking it in his shirt. “Eat up as much as you can. This will help get you feeling like your old self again.”

  Larion hoped that was not the case. He didn’t want to be his old self again. That boy died on the hill along with everyone else.

  Nathaniel Evans was surprised by the chime of his door bell. As a widower with no kids under 18 and no friends visitors were rare. He was certain he had a better chance of winning the lottery than having a visitor. He was going to have to go buy some tickets after he found out who it was.

  “Need you to sign here.” The man in the brown uniform passed a tablet to him. At his feet sat a box, more a crate really.

  Nathaniel signed the tablet with his finger and passed it back. The man nodded and left, going back to his truck painted the same shade of brown as his uniform. The box was lighter than Nathaniel expected. Being a loner with a decent pension he had plenty of time on his hands. Time he filled in the world of video games. That wasn’t all though, he also worked out religiously. Moving the box in the house was easy as pie.

  Nathaniel retrieved a knife from the kitchen and paused before opening the package. For a brief moment he wondered if it could be a bomb, or chemical weapon. There were reported instances of people receiving such things. But he was a nobody. The people targeted were us
ually political figures, or famous people. Nathaniel went for it.

  Inside the crate he found a cobalt colored ring attached to some sort of computer by a single cable. Blue lights lit up when he touched the halo. He pulled his hand back surprised by the machine’s response.

  After a moment of nothing happening he picked up the ring. That was when he noticed the manual tucked along the side of the computer. “I should have just looked for that first,” he chided himself.

  The front cover of the manual sported a logo Nathaniel was intimately familiar with. The logo for Last Gods.

  “Oh no way! This can’t be the VR headset I read about. Can it?” Nathaniel said to himself.

  The manual confirmed what he suspected. Somehow he was the recipient of one of the beta units. According to the document attached to the manual his accomplishments in game made him eligible. Which didn’t seem right since most of his guildies out shined him by a fair margin. They beat him in level, achievements, collectibles, number or raids, and every other measurable metric. Yet here it was.

  “I’m not going to be the guy that looks a gift tank in the barrel. Need a minute before I jack in though.”

  Nathaniel went to the bathroom and handled his business. Then he made a sandwich and had a soda to wash it down. Only after he cleaned up his mess in the kitchen was he ready to go.

  The halo was snug but not uncomfortable. He lay prone on his couch to be comfortable while he was under. The manual instructed him on how to get started. He pressed the button on the halo to initiate the session.

  Everything went black. The sounds of his house faded to nothing. A blue light faded into being, surrounding him and replacing the darkness. Nathaniel looked down at his body and found the green mesh of game polygons. The underlying framework of every digital 3D game ever.

  Movement drew his attention back up to the front. A golden light drifted closer. It was the size of a basketball but grew steadily. Soon he made out the shape of an animal, a wolf or dog. The glowing creature stopped a few feet from him.

  “Welcome!” A masculine voice came from the beast even though it’s mouth hadn’t moved. “I am here to guide you in the setup of your character. You may call me Skoal.”

  “Pleasure to meet you, Skoal. Where do we start?”

  “Let us begin with class assignment. Here are your choices. Choose wisely.”

  Class Selection:

  Ranger

  Warrior

  Mage

  Thief

  Monk

  “I have no choice but to assume the limited number of selections means there is a sub-class system as well. Is that correct?” Nathaniel asked.

  “Very astute. However, you are not able to choose a subclass at this time. Additionally, the rules do not permit me to educate you as to which class contains what subclass.”

  “That’s fine. I am sure I know where the class I want will be.”

  Nathaniel glanced over his choices once before before decided. He settled his gaze over Warrior, and thought the 'select’.

  “Very good. Next you must allocate your attribute points. You start with one in each category and have two more to place where you like,” Skoal said.

  Attribute Point Selection:

  Strength 1

  Stamina 1

  Intellect 1

  Dexterity 1

  Charisma 1

  Luck 1

  2 available points to place where you like.

  “May I ask if I will be getting more points upon leveling up?” Nathaniel asked.

  “That is a question I can answer. Yes, you will receive 1 stat point at level up as well as 1 skill point. And I will add that I can not volunteer much, but I have more leeway in regards to answering questions. Is there anything else I may answer?”

  “Can you give me a breakdown of what each attribute effects?”

  “That I can not do. This choice is solely yours to make.”

  He figured that was going to be the case. It was possible the devs were using experienced players to see what the expectations of the players would be so they could make tweaks accordingly. Or consider making the tweaks. The joys of beta testing. Nathaniel made his choice, it was an easy one as far as he was concerned.

  Attribute Point Selection:

  Strength 2 (1)

  Stamina 1

  Intellect 2 (1)

  Dexterity 1

  Charisma 1

  Luck 1

  Do you wish to save these stats?

  Yes / No

  Nathaniel selected yes using his hand. The window vanished giving him a clear view of Skoal once more. The wolf remained as luminous and motionless as he had been.

  “If I am right about what class you will be then I believe you chose well. The last thing to do before entering the game is to decide on a name.”

  “That is the easiest choice so far,” Nathaniel said.

  ***

  The bright light receded.

  A hand clad in a black metal gauntlet reached down. He took the offered hand and was pulled to his feet. The rest of the helpful figure was decked out in all black metal armor.

  “Welcome to Char, Sir. We stand ready to assist and serve,” the knight said.

  “We?”

  The figure stepped to the side allowing for the other similarly attired knights to be seen. They stood lined up facing him with a fist to their chests.

  “What is this?”

  “Our mutual master has tasked us with training and power leveling his champion. As such we are here to 7O

  Chapter 32

  Larion lay on the bed he was given for the night staring up at the wooden beams of the ceiling. The Inn was large and the ceiling pitched up far above his head.

  Thump.

  The meal he ate went a long way to bringing Larion back to full strength. The problem facing him now was the constant thumping and pull. He was needed. He didn’t know why or by whom only that it was true. The dreams had told him as much.

  Thump.

  Larion threw back the blanket. He was in his under clothes and a fresh set of clothes were folded on the dresser in the room. He rose and dressed. His clothes had been too damaged to keep so his rescuers had thrown them out. The new set was a little loose on him but they would do.

  He opened his door a crack to see if he was alone. The hall was empty. He stepped out and closed it behind him. He stood still and held his breath listening. There was a faint sound from down the hall, voices. He turned and followed the noise to where the hall turned. The noises grew louder. He went to the top of the staircase and looked down.

  Part of the common room was visible and he could see people moving around. The sound of many voices was much louder now. There was no way he could get out that way unseen. Larion went back to his room.

  The window opened easily. He looked down and saw a cart full of straw a few feet from the building. He could make it.

  Thump.

  He jumped. Air rushed by and he felt like his balls had dove up into his body. The hay was harder than he expected. He let out a grunt of pain on impact. His body came to a stop on the hay with him laying on his back.

  The hay shifted. He slid sideways. His hands grasped for anything but found nothing. He hit the ground roughly on landing on his right shoulder. There was a loud pop and an explosion of pain. Larion lay in that spot for a while weeping. He wept not just because of the pain he was in but because of all he had been through. He curled into a ball and cried as images of everyone he loved passed through his mind.

  “Are you okay?” The voice of Barnabus said to him. “Here lad, let me help you up.” Barnabus grabbed Larion’s shoulders. Larion let out a cry of pain. “Oh no, you hurt yourself.” He didn’t let go. He pulled Larion up to his feet. Once Larion was up Barnabus let go of Larion’s injured shoulder.

  “Come inside, lad. We will get you looked at and see about helping you get to where ever you need to go.”

  “I …”

  “Save it for later, lad.
We need to get you looked at first.” Barnabus led Larion into a door leading to a kitchen. From there through another door passed the bar and back to a the chair in front of the fireplace.

  Barnabus knelt down next to the chair. “Listen, lad. If you have to leave that is fine. Just don’t go jumping out of the window. We can see to getting you a ride in the direction you are headed. Understood?”

  Larion nodded. He still didn’t want to risk opening his mouth for fear of telling them about what happened.

  “We don’t have a magic user here capable of healing so you will see our physician.” Barnabus looked around then leaned in closer. “He isn’t really a physician, more of a lightly trained combat medic, but he is all we have. So if he says he needs to operate you ask him if there is another option. Understand?” Larion nodded. “Good. I will be back.”

  Larion watched the fire roil and turn. The black log popped and sputtered as the moisture in it boiled.

  Thump.

  The faces of his family danced in the fire. His eyes watered but he couldn’t look away. It felt wrong to look away, disgraceful. Eve’s face appeared pushing away all the others. It was a time they spent on the hill while he was watching the sheep. He had said something funny but couldn’t remember what. Eve laughed, that beautiful musical laugh of hers. Afterwords she smiled. It was a bright dazzling smile that lit up the soul as much as the night sky.

  “You must be the mysterious stranger?” A man moved in front of the fireplace blocking his view. “So Goodman Barnabus tells me that you had a tumble and injured your shoulder. Let’s take a look, shall we?” He reached out and grabbed Larion’s shoulder.

  Larion let out a cry of pain. “Oh dear. That does not feel right. It is my recommendation that we do an exploratory surgery to determine exactly what is wrong.”

  “Or you could tell us what IS wrong and how to fix it,” Barnabus said. He stepped around the chair into Larion’s view. “None of your horse shit tonight, Doc. Just tell us how to fix him.”

  “All right, Barnabus. You do know me so well.” He let out a sigh and looked longingly at Larion’s shoulder. “It is just dislocated. All I have to do is pop it back into place. A simple procedure.”