“Hey, at least you have a dagger!” I called down. “I have literally no items.”
Her face was blank. “How?” she finally asked.
“I didn’t choose a ‘custom build.’ I didn’t choose any build!” Self-pity started to grow inside me, taking root now that it had an audience.
“So how did you design your character, then? It’s all the same process.” A note of scorn was creeping into her voice. She was starting to think I was just an idiot.
“No, I’m telling you I never got to choose anything. After the calibration I just woke up here," I insisted.
“Calibration?” she asked. “What are you talking about?”
“You know, when they had you do all the movements and stuff to map your brain into the game.”
“What game are you playing? I didn’t do any of that. I just went straight to the UI for my character build. And then I ended up here.” Her face darkened. “And then that asswipe broke my fucking wand. Fuck!” She stomped the broken wand a third time for good measure.
“You mean you got to choose your race? What stats did you start with? There were builds? What spells do you have?” Suddenly I was awash with questions. I had missed getting to build my character. What had happened?!
The elf held up her hands. “Take a breath there. Of course I got to choose my race—and my appearance. I could have defaulted to looking like myself, but do you think they’d just stick players into any old body? They’d have a fucking riot!” She sighed. “Why don’t you come on down? I’m getting a crick in my neck talking to you up there.”
In spite of her invitation, she backed well away from the tree as I climbed down. “Was it that bad? Dying?” I asked, sympathetically.
“I drowned in my own blood," she growled darkly and fingered the gash in her roughspun shirt, identical to that worn by her corpse. “Why don’t you give it a fucking try?”
“I wouldn’t think they’d make it so bad. In most MMOs you die all the time!”
“I don’t know why they did it,“ she responded. “All I know is that it fucking hurt.”
I apologized, and she shrugged in response.
It turned out I had missed the character creation process. She suggested I open a support ticket and ask the devs to “fix” me, and on learning I didn’t have access, she graciously opened one on my behalf.
She whistled through her teeth. “The wait time’s measured in days," she announced. Of course it was.
She had started out with 5 points to distribute between her stats and had put 4 straight into Wisdom, hoping the extra Mana Regen would allow her to cast more often. She had been relying on the +1 to Int from the wand to enable her to cast her starting spell, simply called Fire, which took 15 mana to cast. I eagerly asked to see the spell info, and she figured out how to show me her UI.
Fire I
Cost: 15 MP
Range: Touch
Cast Time: 1.5 seconds
Duration: Instant
Description: Creates a small flame in the caster's hand.
Effect: 3 Fire Damage + 2 Fire Damage over 3 seconds if Ignited.
Requirements: Mana Seed of Fire
Additional Effects:
Playing with Fire: casting Fire spells causes both target and caster to become Kindled.
This spell is learned.
“‘A small flame?’” I repeated, incredulous. “That’s it?”
She shrugged. “I guess they didn’t want to make it too powerful right off the bat. Wish I had known that the starting area was going to be PvP!“
She had been able to choose her appearance, name, and race as well. I showed her my Character Sheet, and then my patchwork spell tree. Fortunately we were able to share them over a distance. She looked at hers again.
“I can’t even find empty slots for those middle spells. It’s like they don’t even exist," she said. “I looked through every build and race, and I never saw an option for them. Ether, Flow… the spells sound pretty fucking useful though.”
Flow? That’s right! I scrambled to pull up my Spell UI, and there it was, on the same tree that had Ether at its root. I had been so eager to use the spell that I had forgotten to read the details!
Flow I
Cost: 1 MP per second
Range: 30 meters
Cast Time: 1 second
Duration: Channeled
Description: Creates a pathway for mana to flow into and out of objects. An object’s ability to accept mana is affected by its Wisdom (creatures), or by its Quality (items). An object’s ability to resist Flow is determined by its Intellect (creatures), or by its Quality (items). Exceeding throughput limits may cause damage to the caster and/or the target.
Effect: 1 mana flow per target Wisdom/sec (creatures).
1 mana flow per target Quality/sec (items).
Creature targets with more than 1 point of Intellect are immune.
Items of Common Quality or higher are immune.
Requirements: Ether, Class Spell
This spell is learned.
I hadn’t actually tried siphoning off any of the ambient mana from objects around me! With this I could… I pushed the UI away and opened a flow targeted at the grass between me and the elf. I knew there was mana there. From what I’d seen, mana was everywhere. I readied myself and cautiously pulled. I could handle 3 mana per second, given my Wisdom, but I started at 1 and worked my way up. Channeling mana this way kept my bar full. 1 point per second, 2 points per second, 3. I focused on tightly controlling the flow and maintaining the channel, careful not to pull enough to hurt myself.
“What the fuck are you doing?!” the elf woman shouted. “Stop! So help me God, you’d better cut that shit out!”
Letting go my focus, I saw the woman scrambling back from a gray patch of grass, which was now probably 6 feet in diameter. I jumped back as well. It definitely didn’t look right.
“Holy crap! Sorry, I didn’t mean to... sorry!” I held my hands up impotently, shocked at what I’d done. “It hasn’t ever done that before!” Although even as I said it, I knew it wasn’t true. That must have been what had happened to Mr. Murder the day before. I must have accidentally drained his mana, probably all 10 points, and hurt myself in the process. I recalled the ache and the sharp pain the night before. I must have drained all his mana in just a second or two. I was lucky the damage hadn’t been worse!
“I swear I didn’t know that would happen," I pled, not liking the accusatory way the woman was looking at me. “Look, I don’t know why I missed the character creation screen, or why I even have these spells. I’m just trying to figure out how to play with no gear and no—” My eyes burned, and my throat tightened. I didn’t want to admit to the sudden wave of helplessness that had come over me.
She must have noted the rise of frustration in my voice, because her features softened. “Just don’t fucking surprise me like that!” She knelt and drew her dagger, touching the edge to a blade of the gray grass. In a gentle, soundless puff, the leaf turned to ash and dissipated into the air. She blew a quiet breath over the circle, and we both watched as blades of grass, stalks and stems of wildflowers, and even dirt fell apart under the slight pressure.
“Uh… yeah, let’s not make a habit of that shit until you’ve got it figured out,” she breathed. “What kind of starting spell is that?”
I talked through the events of the previous day, both preceding and following her death, sharing my suspicion as to how I’d escaped the same fate. The man hadn’t turned gray and fallen to ash, he’d just fainted. I had too, in fact, after running my mana dry on waking the day before.
Hopeful to find out more, I cast Ether and examined the dead space. It was dead in more ways than one. The misty flames that licked at the rest of the world didn’t touch the circle of dead grass. They brushed against the edges but were rebuffed, unable to penetrate the void. All except for one bright spot.
I bent down and plucked the wand out of the dead grass. Ash fell away from my finge
rs, but the halves of the wand itself stayed substantial, tightly packed mana still whirling around and inside. It was brighter and denser than the rest of the world, and certainly more so than the void. The mana inside looked more akin to the mana in and on me, and in and on my companion, come to think of it. She glowed misty-white almost as brightly as I did.
“That’s a cool effect," she breathed, suddenly close. While I was concentrating on her wand, she had moved around the circle to stand beside me, her face craning toward mine.
“Huh?” I asked, surprised at her proximity.
“Your eyes have these little wisps of smoke coming out of them,” she said. “Are you casting Ether?”
She was sharp. And tall. And beautiful. And intimidating. I found myself stammering as I explained what I’d observed about the grass, her wand, and ourselves. Slowly, the caution and timidity she had respawned with was fading. Probably because she was realizing just how clueless I was.
“Well, you have a spell to reduce the world to ash, but no equipment. I’ve got a dagger and a whole lot of Mana Regen. Want to make our way to the city together? We’ll take this world by storm!” I swallowed nervously, then laughed. We were a sad pair, weren’t we? Still, she seemed confident, and I could use some of that.
“I’ll try to help out any way I can," I said, hoping I’d be able to follow through.
She slapped me on the back. “That’s the spirit!” she whooped. “Name’s Mac. Put ‘er there!” Grabbing my hand, she shook it enthusiastically. I was a little stunned by the sudden familiarity, but I managed a weak smile.
“Zenzuck, I guess," I replied, still a little off-kilter.
“Nice to meetcha’!” She chortled, more jocular by the second. “What do you say we get the fuck out of here?” Putting her hands on my shoulders, she began to steer me out of the clearing without even bothering to reclaim her wand. Why was she in such a rush? Weakly, I cast about to make sure I hadn’t left anything, before realizing I didn’t have anything, let alone anything to leave. Just a patch of dead grass and the memory of shivering through the night. Sighing, I began to walk under my own steam. Why was she in such a hurry anyway?
Whooshing sounds behind us answered my question. I guess neither of us were willing to risk meeting whomever might be coming through the respawn portals next, because in unspoken agreement we both bolted for the trees.
Chapter 6
Morning light filtered through the trees as we walked under broad branches. The trees were tall and deciduous, not the pine and poplar forests I was familiar with, and for that I was glad. The visibility was much better. A dappled path led east away from the meadow, and we set ourselves to it. Early-morning birdsong filled the air, and I began to feel the thrum of satisfaction that comes with forest walks. I fell into a long stride beside my companion.
For her part, Mac was fiddling with her hair, trying to fasten it back into a ponytail. “A scrunchie, a scrunchie! My kingdom for a scrunchie!” she complained, trying to hold the hair in place with another bit of hair that kept falling out. Honestly, she didn’t seem to know what she was doing.
“Can I borrow your dagger for a sec?” I asked. Then, on catching her hesitant look, I reassured her, “Look, I could have already taken it off your corpse if I was going to run off with it.” With a decidedly unladylike snort, she assented, handing me the dagger by the blade. Nicking my tunic, I tore a foot-long strip and handed the dagger back. Then, after gesturing for her to sit on a nearby stump, I proceeded to tie her a pony.
“Just let me know if you want a French braid next time," I teased upon completion as she felt for my handiwork. She looked at me coolly, and I grinned. This was something I could handle. “Three sisters," I informed her. She snorted again and chuckled.
A snapping branch brought me out of beauty-parlor-Barbie mode and back to the fact of our vulnerability. “Should we just move off the path and let them pass?” I whispered. Mac nodded, and we quit the path, finding two large trunks to hide behind. We watched silently as a broad dwarf man and woman strode past, bantering like an old married couple, which was probably just what they were. We stayed put for a minute or so after they left and then moved back to the path.
“Damn, I wish I could do something!” Mac moaned. “I got a Stealth skill from hiding just now, but that’s going to do fuck-all for me. I don’t even have a way to make cash for getting my wand repaired!” Noticing that I had essentially taken possession of the wand since she had thrown it down and stomped on it, I sheepishly handed it back. Down one broken wand, I was back to zero possessions. Mac caught me looking glum.
“Hey, when you cast your spells earlier you didn’t move. Can I see what they look like without Static Casting?” she inquired.
I responded, hesitant, “I don’t want to mess anything up with Flow, so I’m just going to push, alright?”
She looked uncertain for a moment, then shook off the discomfort. “It’ll be fine, I’m sure.”
“If you insist," I acceded, excitement growing.
“I do," she responded, winking.
The pain from the previous night made me a little reticent to try, but it didn’t return. I accessed the limen and cast, letting my body play out the movements for the full effect. I focused on an area in front of us, invisible to Mac, of course.
Mac was practically bouncing with excitement. “That was sooo cool!” she crowed. “The way they make the words slide right out of your… Ach! I want! I want to cast my fucking spell!” She was very nearly whining. I felt sheepish, embarrassed that I was able to cast my spells when hers were tantalizingly out of reach.
I kicked at the dirt and grimaced. “Sorry."
She grabbed my shoulders and gave me a little shake. “Don’t apologize!” she growled. “You didn’t break my wand—that asshole with the sword did. And you didn’t allocate my points like a fucktard. I did that all on my own.”
I tensed. “I really don’t like that word," I muttered, wishing I could take the words back as soon as they left my mouth.
She paused and grinned, then smacked me on the back again. “There you go! Stand up for yourself! No more shrinking violet act! No more apologizing! You’re not going to change anything by apologizing for a situation you didn’t fucking create. We take what we get, and we move forward with it!”
“Now, I have an idea, although I’m probably going to regret it," she announced. Then, taking a deep breath, she exclaimed, “I want you to drain my mana!”
I looked at her, shocked. This was the woman who, not an hour ago, had been too skittish to let someone else near her, and now she wanted me to use a spell on her that had turned an idyllic field to ash?
She saw my expression.
“I know what you’re thinking, but hear me out. As things stand, I’m not going to get anywhere for a while. I’ve got nothing but this goddamn dagger to my name, and I’m specced for fucking Mana Regen.” She sighed. “So, the way I see it, the only progress I’m going to be able to make right now is for you to drain my mana so that I can regenerate it. At the very least I’ll be able to gain some Wisdom, if you’re right about how that works. If you fuck it up and my ass gets ashed, then I’ll just respawn.” She gave me a warning glance. “And don’t fuck it up!”
I looked at the tall, fierce woman. She might be up for the risk, but I wasn’t sure I was up for the responsibility. She seemed to see straight through my thoughts. “Look,” she said, a bit sternly. “I make the decisions about what happens to me. Not you. I know the risks as well as you do, but it’s my decision.”
Cowed, I conceded, though I was hesitant even after my talking-to. There was no time like the present though, so I cast Flow and eased the smallest trickle of mana I could away from her. I held the channel for 3 tense seconds before my concern made me lose it.
“You’re going to have to tell me what’s going on with your mana," I explained. “The flow gives me back what it costs, so I can’t even tell anything’s happening.”
“I’m
down… 3,” she announced. “Barely even felt it. How about I let you know when I get to 4? That should give us plenty of room for error. Then I’ll regen the 6 mana for… a minute twelve?” I nodded. “And we’ll do the whole thing over again.”
I put my mind to figuring out the best way to fill that minute and twelve seconds. During each one-minute-twelve-second interval, I would regenerate 5 to 6 mana: enough I’d have to channel the excess off every so often. The trick was to keep my mana close to full, while making sure to always be regenerating. I would use Flow for the 6 seconds required by Mac, then channel 6 or 7 of my own mana off. Giving it back to Mac would be pointless, of course.
So, we got back to walking, taking our time so as not to catch up with the dwarves. It was less than a minute before Mac announced her mana was full. She stopped, so I reached out and drained her as I came along.
“Woah, woah, woah!” she shouted, swatting at the air between us as if she were under attack by pigeons. “You cannot do that shit to me while you’re walking! I require your full attention!”
The word “sorry” died on my lips. No apologizing! Instead, I tried to reason with her. “We can’t stop every minute and a half. We’ll never get anywhere! We can move it to every five minutes if you want, but it’ll still take us forever to get where we’re going.”
“Fine," she said, sheathing the dagger that had found its way into her hand. “Fine, fine, fine. We’ll do it your way. Let’s just get going.”
Auger & Augment Page 5
