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Alexa Drey- Hero Hunting

Page 15

by Ember Lane


  Congratulations! You have reached level 2 navigation. Your effective radius is now 15 miles. Your map detail is poor.

  The map blurred and then sharpened, and the river that fed and drained the lake appeared, plus a sole building marked forge. I tried to think back to when I’d seen Lincoln’s city stats. Wasn’t Joan’s Creek’s forge its highest-level building? I certainly remembered it as so; I remembered thinking that only a practical building like a forge would take priority in Lincoln’s village. So, Thumptwist was getting his forge upgraded to level 8. Assuming that had either happened or was still in the process of happening, my current skill level could only plot level 7 or 8 buildings, forests as lumps of green, mountains and rivers, and lakes. A good enough start and kinda useful too. I was a little put out that my companions had just left me in the cave, and as I marched along, I began to wonder why.

  Sure, Lincoln had looked a little…broken, by whatever quest Poleyna had given him, and Cronis had his own issues whenever Poleyna was mentioned, let alone manifested herself in front of him—but leaving me alone? A little harsh, I thought. Then again, I had to stand on my own two feet…eventually—hadn’t Poleyna told me that, in a roundabout way? My night vision had kicked in, and my running skill needed some attention—my progress having been recently set to zero by my unavoidable deaths—and so I ran all the way back to Joan’s Creek, and for once, without incident.

  I started to cross the bridge, but stopped halfway across. Lincoln was sitting with his back to the fire pit. He was grinning from ear to ear. He held up a mug of ale.

  “I think a celebration is in order.”

  I wanted to be angry at him for leaving me, but something told me they had done it on purpose.

  “What’s going on?”

  He patted the stone next to him. I marched over and sat.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Jin,” Lincoln replied as if that was explanation enough. “He said you needed to figure out a new skill, so it would be best to leave you to it.”

  I took a slurp on my ale. It tasted like pure nectar. It was…forgiveness in a mug, but he had to earn it. “He’s an odd one, that elf, an odd one.”

  “Certainly was strange the way he seemed to know exactly what was going on.”

  Thinking back, he had taken us there, and he’d known exactly who to take, so it was a shrewd bet that he’d known what was going to happen.

  “How did he explain that?”

  “Said he’d had a vision, that he was led to the cave a few days ago. He said that he was asked to bring us three there. What I can’t work out is, why you? I was charged with putting a team together to clear the castle of all the traps, illusions and monsters that guard a particular prize. I was charged with making the way for Cronis to reanimate Starellion. But…” He scratched his chin, looking up at the stars.

  “But what?”

  “There were strict criteria. Firstly, no you… Don’t get me wrong, it didn’t actually state no you, just no other travelers like us.”

  “What?” I cried. He coaxed my mug to my mouth.

  “Drink it down. You can’t be in the thick of everything. Next, no Shylan, but I can take the other one—the one that retrieved all the silver bars from the mountain.”

  “Flip,” I muttered…the sneaky so and so; he’d robbed the cell’s bars.

  “Cronis must attend, but is not allowed to interfere in any way other than to interpolate the situation—that was bolded in my instruction. I’m allowed six other folk with me and must take the gnome. All very odd. I’ve never known a quest with such specific instructions.”

  “So, who are you going to take?”

  “Aezal, he’s a shoo-in, and the two dwarves—Ozmic and Grimble—who've been with me from the start.”

  “Jin?”

  Lincoln nodded. “He seems linked to the place. Then there’s Crags; clearly he’s a must, and that just leaves one.”

  “And you can’t make up your mind, so you’re sitting out here mulling.” I huffed. “I thought you were out here waiting for me.” I slapped his leg. “I’m easily offended, you know.”

  He grinned at first, but then his mood darkened. “Glenwyth,” he muttered. “I thought of her—she’s gaining levels in just about every type of combat possible. She’s even training with Jin right now.”

  “Then why don’t you ask her?”

  “That’s the problem. It’ll take me a few weeks to get me fighting fit for this quest I’ve been handed. I really don’t fancy dying over and over, and though Aezal’s been training me most days, I want to hone a few skills first.”

  “So…” I said, and left it hanging, sensing he wanted to tell me something but was having trouble spitting it out.

  He stood, walked up to the bridge, turned, then marched straight back to me. “It’s Glenwyth. She thinks her destiny lies with you.”

  “Me?” I gasped. “Why me? It doesn’t make any sense. She’s…she’s happy here with you, why does she want to come with me?”

  Lincoln offered me his hand and pulled me up. “She told me a while before you came that her destiny lies somewhere else. A feeling, some niggling thought, I don’t know, but I think she’s set on it. By the way, the shaman is up and around, though still very weak.”

  “Where is he?”

  “Sure you don’t want to hang out in the tavern for a while? Let loose?”

  I pulled Lincoln close and steered him toward the path that led along the river. “It must be past midnight. I’ve walked half the vale and some today. I think I’ll pass on the partying.”

  “Tell you what, I’ll go get some food from the feasting hall and meet you there. How about that?”

  He didn’t wait for an answer and veered off toward the newly improved hall. I ambled along, enjoying the peace of the moonlight, savoring the sweet scents on the air. When Lincoln’s cabin came into view, I spied Krakus and Aezal, the Atreman, sitting on a pair of chairs on its deck.

  “Ah,” Krakus said, hailing me. “If it isn’t our new resident crafter, and a cap of 5. Very impressive.”

  Aezal stood offering me his chair, and when I hesitated, he told me he’d been with the shaman all day and had a few things to do.

  “How are you feeling?” I asked.

  “Me?” the shaman responded, as soon as we were alone. “I was about to ask you the same question. From what I’ve heard, you’ve learned simple crafting today, a few spells, and met a god. I’ve just been sitting here recouping. To answer…” He pulled his robe open, and I saw the angry skin on his chest. “It still looks bad, but not as bad as it was. I’ve been doing everything to increase my health—resting, potions, eating, the lot. I’ve a way to go, but I can stand the next treatment.” He gazed at me through his wiry eyebrows. “If you’re up for it. I need it done. I’ve decided my fate lays with your party.”

  My heart skipped a beat. “With us?”

  “You are all headed out from here, and while I’d love to stay and rest a while, when you’ve been locked up in the same place for as many years as I have, a change is quite welcome. So, do you mind? The poultices?”

  “I’ll find Glenwyth,” I replied.

  “No, go seek the ingredients yourself—use your perception. Creep around as quietly as you can. Use your stealth and then make the poultices. Alexa, you’ve been denying your skills. Sure, you’ve gained a whole load of XP by completing quests, and levels are great, a measure of your worth, but they’re just that, a façade. Skills are your foundation; never forget that.”

  I quickly looked at my stat sheet.

  Name: Alexa Drey. Race: Human. Type: Chancer.

  Age: 24. Alignment: None. XP: 15,000.

  Level: 8. Profession: None. Un/Al pts: 0.

  Reputation: Known.

  Health Points: 500/500 Energy: 170/170

  Mana: 260/260 Shadow Mana: 0/750

  HP Regen: 50/Min EN Regen: 17/Min

  MA Regen: 19/Min SMA Regen: NA

  Attributes: (Level, Bonuses)


  Vitality: (12, 38), Stamina: (12, 5), Intelligence: (26, 0), Charisma: (6, 6), Wisdom: (11, 8), Luck: (7, 5), Humility: (2, 0), Compassion: (3, 0), Strength: (3, 20), Agility: (7, 0)

  Skills: (Level, % to next level, Boosts %, Level Cap)

  Running: (6, 22, 25, 12), Perception: (5, 0, 0, 15), Commerce: (1, 0, 0, 6), Magic: (5, 10, 0, ∞), Concealment: (5, 0, 0, 15), Night vision: (4, 64, 0, 10), Blades: (8, 12, 0, 25), Spell Casting: (2, 0, 0, ∞), Close-Q-fighting: (5, 0, 0, 25), Archery: (7, 22, 0, 28), Swordsmanship: (7, 10, 28, 20), Staff fighting: (7, 5, 0, 60), Horseriding: (3, 0, 0, 8), Climbing: (3,8,0,14), Stealth: (1,0,0,22), Rope law: (1,0,0,4), Crafting: (3,18,0,5)

  Healing tree: Level 1

  Subskill – Poultices and potions: (3, 22, 24)

  Talents:

  Tongues of Time, The Veils of Lamerell.

  Quests:

  Seek out the Legend of Billy Long Thumb. Status: Incomplete. Reward: Unknown.

  The Veils of Lamerell. Status: Incomplete. Reward: Death.

  Subquest: The master is now the slave, his command now his prisoner. Free the gambler, end his torment and confront one of five. Status: Complete.

  Subquest: Catch a thief. Status: Incomplete. Reward: Unknown.

  “Don’t look at where you are,” Krakus said, softly. “Look at where you could be. Take your running, for instance. Level 6 for a human isn’t bad, but its only halfway to what you could be. Bring them up to their maximum, Alexa. Trust me, the path you’re traveling down will demand it.”

  I stood and told him I’d go and fetch the ingredients for the poultices. After everything that had happened today, I was just looking forward to taking a break, to eating and drinking with Lincoln, and not creeping around a woods looking for stuff. Stuff, what the hell were those ingredients called? As I thought that, a green dot started blinking in my mind’s eye. I accepted it, and a list of the ingredients came down.

  Briar milk was the first on the list. I decided to look for that first.

  Do you wish to add briar milk to your passive target allocation? Y/N

  Eh? I thought. So, The Thief was active, because he moved, and the plant was passive because… I selected Y. My map appeared in my mind’s eye, and I saw a tiny splodge of glowing green on it. Zooming in, the spot expanded and broke up into dozens of tiny spots all spread throughout the vale’s forests. Zooming in even farther, until I could see only a few hundred yards around me, I saw two clusters still glowing green—briar milk, so far so good. I cycled back, remembering that I had more than one passive spot on the map. I added glowwort and sour pea. The glowwort showed up all over the place, pulsing blue, as it did naturally, but only one cluster of sour pea pulsed yellow. Fine, that was all three passive spots filled. I strode off for the first bit of glowwort, then checked and began to creep, placing my feet so I made no sound.

  As I approached the clump of glowwort, I dropped the map down and cast my perception at it. Confirming what I already knew, I chopped a sizeable lump from the tree bark and dropped it into my sack. I removed glowwort from its passive target spot and added lump moss in its place. Like sour pea, only one cluster showed up, but this one in a long line. The sour pea was closest, and so I crept off after that. I used my perception on near enough everything I passed, and I moved like a ninja to up my stealth. I watched my stats for each crawl up.

  Soon, all I had left was the lump moss. According to the map, the line of it was due east of where I was and deeper into the woods. Silently moving through the midnight trees, I tried to control my breathing so that it kept time with my paces. Breathe in, move, breathe out, set foot down, in, move, out, down, and soon I found a rythym, though it was in no way second nature.

  Congratulations! You move like a very small elephant! You have now reached level 2 stealth.

  Well, the move from a level 1 to 2 was never a huge task, but I decided that Krakus was right. I’d been dragged along these paths, these quests, these journeys, and I’d forgotten the basest part of the game. True, I’d leveled up my fighting skills with Flip, but the rest were lagging behind.

  I came to a rocky outcrop, oddly flat, worn, and heard the chime of a brook close by. I saw a cave at its end, a hollow in a stacked rock that looked more like a dwelling than a natural fissure. Creeping toward it, I hesitated when I was just outside it, suddenly nervous about going in. Then I felt the cold, sharp, point of a knife as it was pressed into the nape of my neck. The stink of ale enveloped me like a cloud.

  “Looking for something, or someone?” Jin’s voice hissed.

  I took a breath. “Lump moss.”

  The knife point pressed in harder, but soon softened, and then vanished entirely. His laughter rang out. “Of all the things that I thought you might say… I wondered if you’d plead for your life or spin and try and swipe the blade—but lump moss? Certainly not that. There’s a whole shelf of it running along the riverbank. Here, I’ll show you.”

  Then I did spin and glared at him. “What? You scared the life out of me.”

  “You were about to go into my cave.”

  “How the hell would I have known it was your cave?”

  Jin shrugged. “Is it yours?”

  “Nope.”

  “Then it would be reasonable to expect it to be someone’s, so it begs a question.”

  “What question?”

  “Why is your sword sheathed? Are you so careless with your life because you have countless?”

  I said nothing, just brushed past him and headed to the bank. “What do you people want from me?” I shouted. “I do my part. I fight. I train. I practice. What else is there? I can’t do everything. I can’t be good at everything. It’s just impossible!”

  He laughed at me. “Go on then, spit it out. What did I say to Cronis? ‘Why should she care about our world?’ That’s what I said.”

  I spun around, my teeth gritted, my stomach clenched in anger. Of all the insults he could throw at me, that was the worst. That was the worst because it was exactly what I wondered. I drew my sword. A staff appeared in his hand.

  “So,” he hissed, crouching, ready. “You really don’t value your life.” He jumped toward me, roaring defiance. “Go on, try it. A sword should chop this thing in two.”

  I lunged forward, but feinted and drew back my strike. Then I circled, feinted, and circled some more. Crouching, I searched out an opening. He was holding his staff diagonally across his body. His eyes followed my every move. I jinked one way, then the other, repeating, searching out common reactions—ones I could anticipate. He began nodding, smiling, and I knew he was anticipating my moves. But I’d seen something, repetition; he moved the tip of his staff up to his left with each feint.

  I lunged, pulled back, saw the gap coming, and struck. A cross strike aimed to exploit that minutest of gaps, but his staff blurred, and it came down on my outstretched blade clattering it onto the stone. As I looked up, his staff was already nestled under my chin.

  “The lump moss?” he said. “It’s over there.” He turned, walked into his cave and left me standing outside.

  I wanted to go in there, wanted to confront him, but knew that his words rang true, as did Krakus's. Why were they all suddenly coaxing me to up my skills swiftly? What had changed?

  I crept over to the bank, cast my perception over the lump moss and took the few percent progress I got for it. Dumping it in my sack, I crept past Jin’s hideout and then all the way back to the lake to Lincoln’s cabin.

  Congratulations! You have utilized passive targeting. You are now level 3 Navigation.

  Well, that was something, I thought, and then checked my stealth—fifty percent of the way to 3 too. I wished I had longer in Joan’s Creek, longer to prepare for whatever waited for me, but somehow I knew that however long I had, it wouldn’t be enough.

  14

  The Color Of Magic

  Jack looked up from his desk. “Ah, Alexa, shame you weren’t a few moments earlier, Robert has just gone to fetch some honeyed tea from the tave
rn.” He creased his forehead and drummed his fingers on the desktop. “I’ll send him back for another when he gets back.”

  I looked around the workshop, eager to spy my clothes and boots and get out of there. It wasn’t that the place gave me the creeps, more that it made me feel tiny…insignificant. From Jack’s ensuing look, my quick exit was the last thing on his mind. He indicated the chair opposite his desk.

  “Crafting,” he announced as though hailing a king. “Though your maximum level is a feeble 5, don’t discount it. You already know how to reduce some base components into their raw parts—simple things like leather, hemp, and the like, and that may well be useful to you in performing running repairs to your armor, though…it’s a waste.” He raised his hand and wagged his finger at me. “But I think I’ve come up with something useful to you. Do you have the skill Herbalism?”

  “No.”

  He tapped his still outstretched finger on his lips. “Alchemy?”

  I paused a moment, double-checking. Krakus was right, I had a bucketload of feeble skills, but not alchemy.

  “No.”

  He huffed. “You’re not making this particularly easy, are you?”

  “I can find fungi and mosses and the like using my navigation.”

  His jaw dropped. “You’ve got Navigation? I’ve always wanted that. You can find anything with that—if it’s there, of course. You can’t find… Never mind.” He waved his hands as if dismissing his own confusion. “Look, let’s assume you’re in some dire situation or another—like you seem prone to get into, and your health has taken a pounding. How useful would it be to be able to make a health potion or two?”

  Now he had my full attention. “Go on.”

 

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