Alexa Drey- Hero Hunting

by Ember Lane

  Edwin jumped up first, a knife in his hand. It arced down, slicing into Mezzerian’s arm, tearing at his flesh and opening up a bloody rent, but the big man wasn’t taken completely by surprise and was already on his way up. He punched Edwin, the mountain man’s head snapping back, but it exposed Mezzerain’s belly, and One-Tooth lunged, a vicious spike in her bony grip. It plunged toward Mezzerain, aiming below his battered breastplate. Like a flash, Star struck, her sword cleaving the hag’s arm clean off.

  I felt my mana rise, though not in anger, and a spell formed in my mind. It shot out from me, and I saw the rent in Mezzerain’s arm seal shut. He drew his sword, it’s blade whipping through the air, severing Edwin’s head from his body. The hag screeched, holding her spewing stump and spinning around, spraying its gore all over. Star drove her sword through the woman, held her for a moment, and then let her drop.

  Over the counter, I saw the innkeeper holding a ball of azure magic in his palm, nurturing it, bringing it to maturity. His face, his body, began to shimmer, a much younger, paler being inside him. Glenwyth jumped up from her seat and vaulted the table, and I saw that the other mountain folk had all got up and were advancing toward us. She joined the fray, Mezzerain towering in the center with Star on one side, Glenwyth on the other. I drew my own sword, and faced the innkeeper, but now he wasn’t the bearded, old man.

  He was dressed in a black robe with red flashes on its sleeve, his skin a pale gray with a tinge of green. He grinned a wicked grin, and he launched the blue ball of magic at me. It sped toward me, slamming straight into my gut.

  Damage! Graydoor has hit you with Energy Suck, you lost 50% of your Energy. You have received 50 damage.

  I staggered back, already seeing that this Graydoor was cupping another ball of magic in his palms. Quickly accessing my own spells, I realized how useless they were…mostly. I selected Mana Drain, and cast it fast, throwing it at the wizard. It bounced off of him like it was no more than a fly. He smiled, and that fired my anger, and I cast it again, this time focusing my anger into it. I felt a rush of shadow mana as it filled its empty pool, and a gray bolt of magic flashed out from my palm crashing into Graydoor’s ball of blue magic, which imploded and vanished in a searing flash. I felt my own mana pool replenish instantly as his spell’s mana became my own.

  His mouth dropped open, a look of incredulity spreading across his face, but it was soon replaced with determination, and he began casting again, a shield of brilliant blue spreading around him. Across from him, Mezzerain, Glenwyth, and Star were holding their own, the big man swiping and slashing. I saw blood still dripping from his arm and cast Stitch and Stem again. Then I turned my attention back to Graydoor.

  Now, he was completely enveloped in a crackling, blue sphere, and behind it he was coaxing another ball of magic into life. I tried Mana Drain again, but even when imbued with shadow mana, it just bounced off his charm and fizzled out. He looked at me, a chill grin spreading across his mouth. Blank eyes stared out from under his black hood.

  “And now to send you to the Endings, Alexa Drey. I do so hope your respawn is close, so I can do it again and again.”

  I ripped out my sack and called for the Death Knight’s dagger. It sprang into my hand, and my shadow mana surged. Looking toward the wizard, I saw his smile falter for a mere instant, but then he raised his hand, raised the ball of blue magic high and drew it back. In that moment, I knew I was doomed, but burst toward him anyway.

  Sedge suddenly appeared right behind him. He grabbed Graydoor’s head, wrenching it to one side and pressing a stiletto knife into his neck. Looking at me all the time he held the knife home, Sedge grinned and let the lifeless body of the wizard fall to the floor behind the counter.

  Silence, broken only by panting breaths, filled the room. Scanning around, I saw maimed bodies, some no more than torsos. Severed limbs, and mouths gaping open with silent screams. I staggered back, slumping onto my seat, gasping for air but hating the taste of it.

  Congratulations! You have used the healing tree subskill Stitch and Stem. You have leveled up. You are now level 5.

  Congratulations! You have used the healing tree subskill Mana Drain. You have leveled up. You are now level 5.

  Congratulations! You have cast spells in combat. You have leveled up Spell Casting. You are now level 6.

  Congratulations! You helped defeat Graydoor, a level 13 apprentice wizard to The House of Merran of the Courts of Shyantium. You are awarded 750 XP.

  Congratulations! You have received Crooked Wand of the Street of the Elven Martyrs. +15% Spell enhancement. -20% Mana use. Item = Common

  “Anybody for an ale?” Sedge asked.

  17

  The Cursed Valley

  The morning sky was clear, so clear I could still see the stars. Gulping down the fresh mountain air, I made my way toward the roar of the gushing, mountain river, toward Sedge. He’d vanished a few ales after the fight. One minute he’d been standing behind the counter, the next he’d simply not. I walked up to him and sat on a close-by rock facing the tumbling river.

  “Where did you go?” I asked.

  He had his fur hood drawn tight, removing any chance of reading his expression.

  “I’m camped up by the entrance to The Thumb. I only came down to see what faction you lot represented.”

  “Faction?”

  He chuffed a laugh. “Lady, if you’re going to play the game, get clued up on it. How many times have you died already?”

  “What?”

  “Faction,” he near shouted. “Graydoor was of The House of Merran, a group of wizards sent to find some bane that’s become active in this area. He was the runt—the weakest, the one left behind to hold White Water against further inquiry. Unfortunately for him, you people bumbled in. Those are some friends you’ve got; there aren’t many that could have slaughtered a load of possesseds without much more than a scratch. What the hell was that spell you were using? It was like bringing a pea shooter to a tank battle.”

  “Mana Drain,” I told him.

  He grunted. “You really are outta your depth. Mana Drain is a healing spell, it’s supposed to let you borrow mana from another member of your party so you can carry on healing. Still, I suppose it kinda worked.”

  “We won, didn’t we?”

  He cocked his head and pushed his hood back. “I suppose, and it let me slide in behind him. Sometimes rookies are just lucky.”

  I cast my perception and saw him flinch.

  Name: Sedgewick Prentice. Race: Human.

  Type: Questor. Age: 26. Alignment: None.

  XP: 20,850. Level: 9. Profession: None.

  Un/Al pts: 0. Reputation: Known.

  “Get what you want?” he asked, but I was still in shock.

  “You're one of us?”

  “A human, a player, what? Yeah, I’m one of you. That’s why I disappeared last night. I was working out what to do. I’ve been on my own the whole game, and was beginning to think this whole thing was a personal journey, that each of us got a different game. Guess it’s just a big old land.”

  “So, what did you decide?”

  Sedge pushed his hands through his cropped, brown hair. He had an easy face—not classically handsome, but not gargoyle material either. He was pleasant looking—his cheekbones a little too high, his eyes too sunken, but all in all, not bad. He turned and flashed me a smile.

  “I decided I really want to see what’s up that valley, and that ain’t going to happen while I’m on my own…”

  I felt a pinch on my stat board.

  “Alexa. Nice concealment, by the way. I only got your name, level, and the like. Maybe you’re not the rookie you make out.”

  “Maybe I’m not,” I said, secretly thanking Aezal for helping me up it to seven.

  Sedge jumped up. “Well, now we know where we stand, will you vouch for me?”

  “You seem to know your way around this valley. Why do you need us?”

  “Alexa, I’ve been past The Thumb’s hea
d three times, and I’ve died three times—not that dying and me are strangers. In total, I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve died, but its more than fifteen and less than twenty. Last time, not only was my skill progress zeroed, I actually lost 1000 XP. My guess is, if I keep dying, I’m gonna start going backward.” He started to walk away then stopped. “Tell you what, I’ll do you a deal. You go plead my case with your friends, and I’ll make you all the best breakfast you’ve had since you left whatever city or village you came from. How’s that sound?”

  I wasn’t convinced. I wasn’t sure I wanted him along, and I didn’t know why. He was one of us, like Lincoln, Pog, or the girl, or Brandon, but…but he felt like he was going to rub me the wrong way. He was a little more abrasive than the others, at least that was how he came across. But…I was starving.

  “Okay.”

  “You won’t regret it,” he said.

  I wondered about that, washed, slurped on some fresh mountain water, then went back into the empty house we’d commandeered and told Mezzerain, Star, and Glenwyth about him. The place was almost identical to the inn over the trail—all split pine logs and gray stone. It only had the one room. Two beds told us a couple had probably lived here. I wondered about the dead wizard, and wondered why he’d put a spell on the few villagers that lived here. Glenwyth had said they were just mirrors of their old selves—already dead. Yet wasn’t Shyantium supposed to be on our side? The side of Irydia? The side that was against ShadowDancer. Or were they evil too?

  “He certainly won’t hinder us,” Mezzerain said, much to my surprise.

  “So, you’re thinking about it?”

  “He’s quick, reminded me of a rogue, though his stats lean toward a rogue/warrior—some folk just like the agility, and he fought on our side when he could have just walked away. Plus, if Graydoor was the weakest of the wizards that ventured into this valley, well, we will need all the help we can get.”

  “I vote yes,” Star said. “Mostly because he’s cute, but also Mezzerain is right. We could use the help.”

  “Glenwyth?”

  “I don’t detect evil in him, but nor do I feel good. I think we must use him while we need him, but never turn our backs on him. He’s a player, he can’t die, and he’ll risk his life where we need caution.” She took a sharp inward breath. “Alexa…I…”

  But I was beaming. She’d almost forgotten I wasn’t one of them. “So, he’s in, but don’t tell him until he’s done breakfast.”

  Sedge didn’t let us down. He came back with fresh steaks of some meat or another, and a flat, dry bread that he’d looted from the inn.

  “It’s quite old, but was stored in the cellar. Not sure how quick it goes bad, but it seems okay.”

  The bread tasted more like a biscuit, and had some real tangy taste to it. I thought about using my crafting to tear it apart and see what it was made of, but ate it instead. Like I said, I was famished. Sedge speared the meat onto an iron-looking spike and started cooking it over the little fire we had going.

  “So, you bunch come to a decision yet?”

  “What magic have you got?” Star asked.

  Sedge looked her up and down then grinned. “Is it stupid question time? I’m looking at you, can’t see a thing so you’re way above me, and if you’re way above me, you’d know I’ve got next-to-no magic. Combat-wise, I use my stealth well—I’ve had to work on that—you can’t kill what you can’t see. Technically, I’m better at throwing a knife than stabbing someone with it, but I hate throwing weapons at my enemies. As you can see, my swordsmanship is okay, but my sword’s blunter than the big man’s forehead, so that doesn’t help. That a good summary?”

  Star nodded. “Your skills exceed your equipment…why is that?”

  “The Thumb,” he said. “Like I told Alexa, I died a couple of times up there, well a few, and by the time I got back to where my corpse was, my weapons were gone. What I’ve got, I’ve begged and borrowed off the villagers.”

  “Here,” I said. “Give me your sword.”

  Sedge gave me a curious look, but rested the meat on the fire grate and quickly undid his scabbard, sliding it over to me. Studying it, I saw it wasn’t solely made of copper, but tin as well. My alchemy skill told me it was bronze, and I wondered if it was within my crafting capabilities. There was only one way to find out.

  “I’ll give it a go, but I don’t know if I’ve got the level to do it.”

  “Go fer your life,” Sedge said, picking up the meat and turning it.

  I unsheathed the blade and discarded its scabbard. The sword was a simple design, the bronze metal rich in color but with a slight green tinge to it. Crossing my legs, I balanced it across my knees and began to concentrate on it, to see between it, to understand it. Jack had told me that the words he mumbled didn’t mean much, it was solely about focusing your intent, and you should do whatever you needed to achieve that, but it was all so new to me that I instantly got lost in its colors. I could see the way the differing elements knitted together and was fascinated by their relationship.

  Running my finger up and down its edge, I began to see the blade shining once more. Bringing by thumb to bear on the underside, and pinching its edge, I began to coax it back to its former glory, extracting its memories, its recollections of a time fresh-forged, fresh-poured, fresh-hammered. My fingers traveled up and down the blade, and I became lost in its history,; then I snapped out of it, as the metal had no memory to pursue beyond its mold. I blinked and looked up. Sheathing the sword, I slid it back to him. “Should be sharper now,” I muttered.

  Sedge looked at me, a confused look. “You don’t look like the type to have crafting,” he said.

  “I only have level 5,” I replied.

  He put the steaks on a battered, old plate and pushed it into the center of the room, unsheathing his sword. “No way,” he said, testing its sharpness and instantly regretting it. He quickly reached into his coat and brought out two old knives—both copper. “Please?” he said.

  We ate the steaks and supped on the last of the ale barrel. Star got up, reached down and pulled me up. “I’m sick of you forgetting yourself. Come with me—you too, Glenwyth.”

  The three of us went out into White Water, and one by one we rifled the houses. Star, apparently, was fed up watching me camp out with nothing but part of Mezzerain’s blanket to cover me. By the time we’d been into every house, I had three blankets and a cured skin that would help fend off the rain. I also had a bowl, a spoon and an old clay pipe. I actually had little intention of puffing away on it; I just liked mimicking the actions. So, I was all set. I had a wax cape I’d brought from a few towns back, a sack full of camping stuff, my fiberstone staff for walking with, a sword, and more than one dagger. I had my potion belt and my equipment pouch—I was truly Alexa Drey—adventurer extraordinaire. Oh, and I changed my respawn point to by the river…just in case those adventures went wrong.

  We rode out of White Water, Sedge leading the way. I didn’t need him to show me where The Thumb was; my navigation was doing that all by itself. The pointer tracking The Thief was aimed straight up the left hand valley. I wondered if we were getting close, but the arrow was still right at the edge of my navigator’s range, like The Thief was one step ahead.

  “So, here we are,” I said, drawing my horse next to Sedge. “Whereabouts did you get killed?”

  Much to my surprise, he pointed to a place only a few hundred yards away. If the valley was shaped like a thumb, we were at its base—a wide-open, grassy area with just a few gray rocks jutting out of its green. A stream ran down its middle, and the valley led up quite gently, a flatter area of about a hundred yards with rocks and trees cladding ridges on either side. There didn’t look like there was a vast amount of places where danger could lurk.

  “Just there, out in the open?”

  Sedge nodded and pointed again. “And there, and there, and…” He scratched his head. “There. Maybe it was four times.”

  “What killed you?�
� Mezzerain asked, jumping down from his mount and walking in the direction Sedge was pointing, directly for the stream, angling across the valley.

  “A troll,” Sedge said simply.

  “A troll, out here in the open?” And then Mezzerain drew his sword and started fighting…thin air.

  “He’s found the troll,” Sedge shouted, jumping off his mount, and drawing his sword. He bolted after Mezzerain.

  I looked at Star and she at me. We both looked at Glenwyth and then each jumped off our horses and burst forward in a rank of three. The second we crossed some invisible line, the scene changed. Gone were the peaceful vale, the verdant grass, and the blue sky, only to be replaced by some fresh-spawned form of hell.

  Twisted trees bent into unholy shapes, like the bones of the dead rising from their graves, surrounding me. Black soil, drab olive green, and the stench of death was all around, the blue sky replaced by roiling masses of gray clouds heaving, folding, bursting out as if in turmoil. I saw Mezzerain desperately fending off a giant blue-skinned beast with a tiny head and fists like hammers on the ends of arms the size of tree trunks. The troll yelled, its fetid breath washing over me as it beat its naked breasts and then swiped out with the back of its hand, hitting Mezzerain and sending him flying as if he were nothing but a ragdoll. The Valkyrian smashed into one of the skeletal trees, snapping its dead trunk in half.

  I found myself casting heal-over-time as if it was second nature, and sent it Mezzerain’s way, and then turned and faced the beast. Star had rounded it, now behind, and Glenwyth was on one side. Sedge had his bronze sword drawn, and jumped forward, ducking under the beast’s ranging swipe and stabbing into its blue hide, the sword slicing it easily. The troll bellowed, and turned to face Sedge, but he was holding his sword tight and swung around with the troll’s torso, getting flung to one side, sword and all. Star took that opportunity to surge forward; slicing a rent in the troll’s side and Glenwyth baited it forward, taking a step back, then another, then another. Sedge joined the fray again, as did Mezzerain.