by G. Akella
Chapter 3
Change in life is inevitable. Man changes, as does his environment. "Don't be afraid of change," urge the psychologists. "The world is changeable, and he who has grasped this fact is onto something." But there's an ancient saying that disagrees: "Better to be a dog in times of peace than a man in times of chaos." So, where is the truth?
Something has got to change, I had resolved at one point in my life, already in America. I thought about it. Change a girlfriend? Which one? Besides, they were changing rapidly enough as it was. Marriage? Nah, that kind of change would be a bit too drastic. No way I could find a better job. Sexual orientation? God forbid! And so I fell asleep that night, still unchanged. In the morning, groggy and pissed, I changed the alarm notification I'd grown to passionately hate, and somehow felt better.
This time I never was given a choice—everything had changed without my involvement, and it was all I could do to try and survive, adapt to this new environment. These were my thoughts as I approached the village gates. I felt no animosity toward its residents. What use was it to hold a grudge against NPCs that were simply playing out the behavior model programmed into them?
"Where do you come from and where are you headed, handsome stranger?" smiled a young sentry, looking pointedly at my rags and stick.
"Easy there, Rhon," his older partner chimed in, "before the esteemed mage turns you into a toad for your crude manners. You'll be croaking at passersby."
"Oh, forgive me, esteemed mage! What brings your illustrious self to our Hart-forsaken hole?" These two were probably bored to tears, so they were milking the situation for all it was worth.
The sentries looked identical to regular humans: two hands, two feet, perfectly human facial expressions, and if I hadn't already witnessed demons assume combat form in the span of an instant… The odd thing was that they reacted to me as a demon as well. If they had recognized me as a human, their questions would be different, though I was safe either way with my neutral reputation.
"I came to nearby with no memory of what happened," I shrugged. "I'm a courier, headed to Nittal."
The older one squinted at the symbol hanging on my chest and nodded.
"Go on in, then, courier. Go see Vellakh—he knows when the next caravan will be arriving."
"Who is Vellakh and where do I find him?" I asked.
"He's the local elder," said the sentry. "Keep straight. See the yellow building six houses past the inn?" He pointed at a huge stone structure some two hundred yards away. There's an enclosure behind it, he should be right inside. You'll know him when you see him."
"Thanks," I nodded and entered the open gates.
When I had first spawned in this world, I had hardly the time to gawk at the surroundings. So it was only now that I realized that Lamorna wasn't a village at all, but more like an outpost, judging by the abundance of armed soldiers. Of course, there were also peasants and farmers, grubby kids playing in the streets, women with pails hanging around a well, roosters crowing and other poultry adding to the general cacophony. Still, for the life of me I couldn't figure out what the farmers were actually growing. There were no fields in sight. The cattle amounted to a single yak—in the enclosure I'd come to know very well. Coming closer, I saw in the same enclosure four regular cows. It was with these thoughts of the local population's involvement in agriculture and husbandry that I reached the desired building.
"Where do you think you're going?" a demon stepped out from under an awning's shade, his full suit of armor clinging with every moment, his shield displaying the muzzle of some scowling beast. His face bore clear signs of last night's merriment through the open visor.
"To Vellakh the elder. I was told he's around here somewhere."
"The elder, you say," the demon snorted. "Go on, then. The elder is behind the building," he motioned me to go around the structure. Yelling and the clanging of metal were coming from that direction.
Rounding the building, I came upon a training site at which a dozen or so soldiers in full armor were sparring with some kind of sticks.
"Feet! Watch your feet placement! I've seen pregnant broads handle shoulder yokes more elegantly!" bellowed a black-haired man in leather breeches. Barechested, his lean, sinewy muscles were on full display.
I watched them train for a little while. Upon realizing that my desire to eat, drink and sleep trumped even my curiosity, I spoke up:
"Are you Vellakh the elder?"
The training session stopped at once. There were a few chuckles, as the black-haired instructor turned slowly toward me.
"Did you say something, you Hart's ass?" he asked insinuatingly, with notes of tenderness that immediately made me feel ill at ease.
"I'm a courier, and I need to get to Nittal," I shrugged. "The soldiers at the gates said that Vellakh the elder would know when to expect the caravan."
There were more chuckles.
"The soldiers at the gates, eh," the man's voice promised nothing good for the aforementioned soldiers' immediate future. "I'm no elder," Vellakh continued, his finger tracing the scar running across his right cheek. "Who are you? And what the Hart do you want from me?"
I repeated my version about losing my memory.
"A courier, eh," the demon shook his head. "In that case, the caravan will be here the day after tomorrow. If you don't have any money, you can sleep in the barracks."
I politely declined (I'd spent more than enough nights in the barracks back in my day), said my goodbyes and started toward the inn.
"Why are you still standing there, you lizards? Heads stuck in your asses? Pick up from exercise three…" blackhair's roar restarted the learning process that had been interrupted by my arrival.
Lamorna's inn was called The Genteel Legionnaire, though its sign—a husky fellow grinning from ear to ear with two dames pressed up to each side—would be better suited for an enlistment office. I wondered what he was so happy about, since the chicks at his sides were actually pretty scary. Perhaps it was the two mugs of beer that he held in each hand—the anticipation of getting drunk as a hog, way past the point of giving a hoot about their beauty? Or, better yet, that through all his past drunken brawls he'd managed to preserve all his pearly whites?
The front door creaked, and I found myself inside a fairly large hall. The place wasn't empty despite the early hour: a merchant (going by his garb) with a retinue of guards were breakfasting at a far table, while four peasants were sitting by the window, conversing quietly over mugs of murky whitish liquid that looked suspiciously like moonshine, refilling it from a pitcher perched atop their table.
"Greetings, Kort," I addressed the dour-faced innkeeper behind the counter, reading his name. "I need a room for two nights, and some food."
The innkeeper was bald, and his ears and horns were on display in full splendor.
All the demons I had encountered thus far had horns. In some, they were small cone-like growths in the temple areas; in others, like the innkeeper, they were around four inches long and curved slightly backwards. The colors ranged from beige to pitch black. The ears—peaked at the top—were more orcish than elvish in shape.
The innkeeper was level 241, the highest I'd seen in Lamorna yet. Even Vellakh was only 220. The innkeeper's grey horns were probably also the largest I'd seen today. Could the horn size be somehow reflective of the NPC's level? By the looks of him, Kort was in his early forties with a grim, weatherbeaten face, a scar across his right cheek, a silver earring of two crossed bones, and a pair of piercing brown eyes with vertical pupils. He'd look more in place swinging a rapier on the deck of a pirate ship than wiping mugs in a backwater inn, I thought to myself.
In the meantime, the innkeeper favored me with his morose gaze.
"One gold per night. Food is included, but drink isn't. No hitting on the waitresses. Women won't be in till evening," he growled and returned to his somber thoughts. Well, one hundred bucks a night certainly wasn't cheap. But it wasn't surprising either—the higher the locatio
n, the higher the lodging costs. I laid two coins on the table, and the innkeeper handed me a key.
"Wait here for yesterday's meal to be heated. Your room is No. 3 on the second floor. Don't worry, you won't get lost."
About five minutes later, a comely waitress brought me a plate of vegetables with meat, a crust of bread and a mug of beer. Having devoured the food, I headed upstairs with a pleasant fullness in my belly.
It was possible to abstain from eating and drinking in Arkon for some time, depending on your character's spirit. The sensation of satiety lasted one day, whereupon the player was hit with a hunger or thirst debuff that caused increasing periodic damage to constitution, mana and vigor. For as long as your regeneration compensated for this damage, you remained alive. It was therefore important to eat at least once a day in the game; not that there was a single good reason to endure constantly worsening hunger and thirst in the first place.
Having made my way to room No. 3, I put the key in the keyhole. The door—wooden and scratched up in spots—flung open and I stepped inside.
You are in your private room. This is your private space—
I dismissed the message with a wave, collapsed on the narrow bed with plain-looking linens, and passed out the next instant.
I woke up at night, and it took me a while to work out where I was. When the events of the past three days finally surfaced in my mind, I swore softly, climbed off the bed and turned on a magic lantern. Casting a skeptical look around the room, I opened the Settings menu. Fifteen minutes and five gold coins later, the room's appearance was made to look as close as possible to my own room in the real world. My former room, I corrected myself with a sigh. The television set was gone, but the computer remained, though its functions were limited to reading chronicles or wikipedia, to use the old language. The clock showed 1:00 AM, but I had three matters to attend to: one important; one important and tedious but necessary; and one pleasant. First things first.
My sister's phone wasn't answering. Could she have changed her number? But then why wouldn't she tell me? Seeking answers, I dialed my former classmate and neighbor.
The call was answered almost right away, as a sharp familiar voice said:
"Hello?"
"Max, hey! Can you talk?"
"Roman?! Is that you? Where are you calling from?" There was something about my childhood friend's tone I really didn't like.
"That's… a long story," I paused, considering how to deliver the news to a person who wasn't the least bit a gamer. "I'm inside a video game. Look, man, I know it sounds crazy, but…" I hesitated, "I died in the real world. Please don't hang up! I can explain everything!"
"No need to explain, I already know," Max replied grimly. "Where exactly in the game are you?"
"Huh?" to say that my friend's question surprised me was to say nothing at all. "I'm in a new zone, it's hard to explain… Why do you ask?"
Listen up," he completely ignored my question. "User name Tauriel, dark elf druid. As of right now, she's level 21. Did you get that?"
"Yes, but what does that…" I started, but then it hit me. "Alyona?! But she doesn't play!" I screamed into the phone.
"Apparently, she does, Roman," Max said with a sigh, then continued with haste and concern in his voice. "She called yesterday afternoon, said she couldn't log out of the game. So Sergei—my cop friend, you remember him—we kick in the door and… And she calls again. There's an ambulance, doctors scurrying around. I pick up and she asks me what's happening? I must have turned gray there and then. Then I logged in… The count is already over thirty million people from around the world! It's mind-boggling! More and more people keep leaving, then calling and saying everything is fine. And Sage—that crystal or whatever—it's completely vanished. I saw it reported on the news."
"Hold up!" I bellowed into the phone, interrupting my typically taciturn friend's verbal torrent. "What exactly did she say?"
"That she's all right. She was shocked at first, obviously… But took consolation in the fact that she'd made herself a size C. Crazy, right? She asked me to tell you that she's fine, that she tried reaching you but couldn't. I had the presence of mind to get her username and all that. Oh, and another thing. Your Aunt Tanya came by. She's the only living relative you've got, right? What do I tell her?"
"Tell her the truth."
"Tell me your username, and how to find you," Max's voice became strangely even.
"Krian, and I'm stuck in Demon Grounds. It's a plane that hasn't been unlocked yet, which means no one can reach me until I get out of here. Alyona knows my username, but getting through to me here is problematic," I said.
"This isn't for her, but for me," Max clarified. "Our firm had gone belly up, I've been out of a job for half a year now. Masha left me. Now I'm all alone, like you guys… So I've made a decision."
"You?! But you've never…" I couldn't even finish my thought.
"So? Besides, who's going to bail you two out of trouble if not me?" my schoolmate grunted. "I bought a capsule three months ago. With no job and nothing to do… There it is now," he said, as if I could see it. "Well, Roman. Till we meet in the next life."
"Wait! Who are you going to be? How do I find you?"
"Oh, you'll find me! While you're off making mischief as usual, someone has got to look after your sister! This narrows my options down to one—dark elves. I'm a little scared, sure… What if something goes wrong? But I don't see another way. Take care, Roman. I'll go tell your Aunt Tanya, and then…"
"Take care, my friend," I managed to say before hearing dial tone.
I sat there for fifteen minutes, staring at a single spot on the floor. Alyona and I were eight years apart. Seven years ago, when only the two of us were left in the world, it took great efforts on my part to bring her back to her senses, make her finish high school and go to college. She was both wiser and more prudent than me, and I knew she would be all right. So now I had another goal—to find my sister. And this goal was more important than smashing the face of a certain douchebag.
What's going on in Karn? I wondered. Thirty million people pulled into Arkon. I couldn't even conceive what things were like over there. Oh well, I had problems of my own to deal with. I sat at the desk and adjusted the monitor to comfortable height. I had to do something about my talents. With no forums at my disposal to do research, I had to figure things out on my own.
Talents and skills were at the foundation of every RPG, and their correct selection and application determined the viability of your character as a whole. I opened up the Talents menu and nearly flipped. As a warrior, I couldn't be bothered worrying about this stuff. When I was being powerleveled, I would simply throw five points into stats that seemed important, select the necessary skills and talents, and move on.
To reiterate, I never was much of a gamer. I had my own place, a nice ride, a good salary and plenty of attention from women. I never had any reason to cheat on reality with a virtual life, unlike folks with limited physical capabilities, students with their extremism and perpetual lack of money, and those who worked in the industry.
For me, sitting on my rear for hours on end killing cartoon enemies, no matter how realistically they may be rendered… Thanks, but no thanks.
Now, however, for those who found themselves in the game, this was the new reality. The pain was real, as was the blood, and I could only guess what other surprises Sage had conceived for the rest of us. The fact was that I had died on the outside; this was now my life, and I had to find my sister and kick in a few nasty skulls. I also wanted to lead a normal life in this world, which meant I had to become strong. I looked through my talents once again. Mages had thousands of them, from the ability to conjure up a banal arrow of ice to powerful earthquakes. Virtually every skill could be bolstered with additional talent points, multiplying its effect many times over.
I fell in thought, searching for a very specific, practical solution for my predicament. I was currently level 67, which, to be honest, was handed
to me on a silver platter. And sure, no one I knew would have consciously accepted such a "gift," but that was all in the past. In the present, I was level 67 with the ability to wear and a 2% bonus to heavy armor. I wasn't taking Altus' gifts into account—the game was full of hidden quests, and bonuses like 5% to all spells and 95% resistance to mental magic could be achieved by any player, at least in theory. On the other hand, I was probably the only mage in the game with the ability to wear plate. All I had to do was figure out how to best use that to my advantage.
Let's suppose that, going forward, leveling was no longer going to be a free ride—I would need to earn every level the old-fashioned way, grinding it out. From what I remembered from exchanges with the guys from my department, getting to level 100 took four to six months of playing almost around the clock. And it got even harder from there. The maximum level a player could achieve was 234, and that took four years of playing.
Now, it just so happened that now I was flush with time. On the other hand, I was in a closed zone, which portended no raids in the foreseeable future, and the archmage's epic quest had to be an exception. The strategy then was clear: ignore all the talents designed to bolster the raid, meaning all the spells that took time to cast. Sure, they hit harder, but casting time meant the spell could be blocked or interrupted, and the caster himself became vulnerable. Building up focus—the skill that made it possible to continue casting through incoming damage—wasn't an attractive option at this degree of pain sensitivity. Raid buffs were equally useless with no one to buff.
I also knew that the game was designed to preserve balance among players. This meant that if you took two players roughly equal in level, gear and talent allocation, the two characters would be pretty similar in terms of power. I was hardly an expert in theorycraft, but I had a rough idea just the same.
I put two characters up on the screen—warrior and mage, both level 101, and gave both similar equipment of rare items. The mage got a cloth set with a pair of rings and a level 100 amulet: +50 to constitution and +50 to intellect. Accordingly, the warrior was given plate, +50 to constitution and +50 to strength. Ignoring the 20 base stats given at creation, let's suppose that for every three points the warrior put one in strength and another in constitution, and the mage in constitution and intellect. Then there were the class bonuses: +1 to spirit and +1 to intellect for the mage, +1 to constitution and +1 to strength for the warrior. For the warrior, let's pick talents focused on two-handed weapons, and let's make the mage specialize in water magic. The warrior's best attack at level 100 was Heroic Strike; for the mage, it was Ice Spear. The warrior got a level 100 two-handed sword of unusual quality, and the mage—the staff equivalent.
Taking into account that, no matter the level, raid buffs and various potions added a maximum of 20% to physical damage absorption and 5% to magic resistance (with all resistances capped at 95%), and that only a moron wouldn't already have at least 75% magic resistance by level 100 through basic talents, I ended up with the following.
Warrior.
900 strength added 9% to armor (100 strength = 1%); 180% to base physical damage (5 strength = 1%).
900 constitution, translating to 9000 hit points.
80% water resistance, meaning the warrior would sustain 20 damage for every 100 damage dealt. (I wanted to focus on water resistance because that was the mage's specialization.)
Physical damage absorption at 64%, equating to 36 damage for every 100 incoming damage.
Damage output—~1000 per second.
Mage.
900 intellect added 180% to spell power (5 intellect = 1%).
800 constitution, translating to 8000 hit points.
Physical damage absorption at 28%, equating to 72 damage for every 100 incoming damage.
Water magic damage output—~2200 per second.
Accounting for all the defenses, the mage could sustain 11,111 physical damage before dying; the warrior could survive up to 45,000 cold damage. In other words, the mage would need twenty three seconds to kill the warrior, while the latter would only need twelve to kill the former. Granted, this was a very rough approximation based on the assumptions that both had energy to spare, comparable skill levels and pain tolerance, the mage had infinite mana, and so on. The two combatants ended up being fairly equal. The mage would attempt to keep the warrior at a distance with crowd control spells while the warrior would try his damnedest to get to the squishy caster.
But here's the kicker! By dressing the mage in heavy armor, using the same stats as with cloth-based defenses, it wouldn't take 11,111 damage to kill him, but exactly twice as much! Whereas before he sustained 72% of incoming physical damage, with a 64% physical damage absorption he would only sustain 36%!
I fell back in my chair and massaged my temples. The price of erring would be too high. Though balance in games was important to adhere to, casters almost always enjoyed a slight advantage over melee classes, which in turn enjoyed an advantage over ranged dps, and ranged dps over casters. But with this latest patch the balance had been badly broken with the introduction of a maximum pain threshold, since many people weren't willing to tolerate pain. In this regard, tanks got the shortest end of the stick. But I digress…
For the following three hours, I was using the calculator to estimate the various combinations of a mage in plate going up against the remaining classes. My calculations showed that such a mage would have an advantage over all melee fighters and non-magical ranged dps. As for other casters, the odds were fairly even.
And then it hit me! Why was I looking at my mage as the standard hit-you-from-a-far-with-elemental-magic type? After all, I had a small melee combat bar at my disposal! The developers always insisted that all players were totally free in the way they developed their character, using a broad range of active and passive skills.
Any warrior could pick up a bow and start firinh arrows, just as any hunter could start swinging a sword at their enemies, and all classes had a small spell bar as well. Except a bow-wielding warrior sacrificed a great deal of damage output and wasted many a talent in doing so, and who would want to willingly cripple their character? In my case, however…
So, what was available to me through level 100? Not much: four melee attacks, four attacks with a bow or a throwing weapon, enchanting of my personal weapon with elemental magic, and… and nothing. Ranged attacks were useless for my purposes, but melee… Each attack inflicted pretty great damage, comparable to a warrior wielding a two-handed sword. The enchantment would boost damage further, though that would bind the weapon to me, which wasn't a big deal.
Trembling with anticipation, I pulled up the calculator and put in the initial data with warrior and mage, then applied one of the four attacks, Ice Blade, with a one-handed sword at level 100 (alas, mages couldn't use two-handed weapons, aside from staves), enchanted it and… was utterly disappointed.
Warrior.
900 strength; 9% to armor (100 strength = 1%); +180% to base physical damage (5 strength = 1%).
900 constitution, translating to 9000 hit points.
80% water resistance, meaning the warrior would sustain 20 damage for every 100 damage dealt.
Physical damage absorption at 64%, equating to 36 damage for every 100 incoming damage.
Damage output—~1000 per second.
Mage in heavy armor.
900 intellect; +180% to spell power (5 intellect = 1%).
800 constitution, translating to 8000 hit points.
Physical damage absorption at 64%, equating to 36 damage for every 100 incoming damage.
Damage output—~580 per second.
The damage per second was nearly half that of a warrior at only 580…
With a disappointed sigh, I got up from the desk and rolled my stiffened neck.
Too bad, I thought to myself. It would have been awesome—with a high physical damage output and maximum maneuverability, I would wipe the floor with anyone who came at me. Still, the benefit of wearing plate was more than anyone
could realistically dream of. Besides, being too dependent on gear could be a major pitfall in Arkon.
I walked up to the window and opened it, letting in the morning freshness. A rooster crowed somewhere nearby. I had spent about five hours over calculations. Well, no sense in dragging my feet now—it was time to allocate the points.
I sat back down at the desk, looked at the monitor and froze. What an IDIOT I was!!! Why the hell did I need intellect if I was going to melee?! I hastily rearranged the stats and ended up with the following.
Mage in heavy armor.
800 strength, +8% to armor (100 strength = 1%); +160% to base physical damage (5 strength = 1%).
800 constitution, translating to 8000 hit points.
Physical damage absorption at 64%, equating to 36 damage for every 100 incoming damage.
Damage output—~1508 per second. EUREKA!
I jumped from the chair and began pacing around the room, trying to keep calm. Mages didn't use melee attacks because that would require boosting strength, and no matter how strong, mages made for lousy melee fighters. It wasn't hard to run the numbers for the typical mage with 28% damage absorption and ~1500 melee dps against a warrior with ~70% percent physical damage absorption and 1000 dps. And that was assuming the same amount of hit points, whereas any decently built warrior would always have more health. But that was for a typical mage, and my case was anything but typical.
"Shut up, you," I barked at the invisible yet still noisy roosters, and shut the window.
So what if my strength would always be below a pure warrior? That class bonus wasn't going anywhere, but it hardly mattered. Mages never took these talents since a near 50% damage absorption and melee combat were useless to them, but I was no mage! Or rather, I was, but not quite a proper one. And I would much rather deal 1500 physical damage per second in melee combat covered by a shield and heavy armor than 2000 elemental damage from a distance wearing rags.
My damage would be ONE AND A HALF times greater than that of an equal-level warrior with a two-hander! Wearing cloth, the same warrior would tear me apart in seconds, but I would be wearing plate! Incredible!
And what about this? I replaced the one-handed sword with a staff and enchanted it. No, this was worse! Staves may be two-handed, but their physical damage was inferior since most were caster-oriented with bonuses to spell power. Whereas a sword left me a free left hand in which to equip a shield that imparted extra stats, armor and a greater chance to reduce incoming damage.
Settled, then! I had 58 talent points available. Let's start with enchanting.
You've acquired the skill: Personal Weapon Enchanting with Elemental Fire I.
The element of fire penetrates the material of your weapon, adding 2% to its base physical damage.
Attention! Your weapon will bind to you if enchanted with this spell, and neither other players nor NPCs will be able to use it.
I threw four more points into the skill and ended up with:
You've acquired the skill: Personal Weapon Enchanting with Elemental Fire II.
The element of fire penetrates the material of your weapon, adding 10% to its base physical damage.
Attention! Your weapon will bind to you if enchanted with this spell, and neither other players nor NPCs will be able to use it.
I repeated the same operation with the other elements, yielding the same results, with only the text being different. Now that all four enchantments were maxed out, I unlocked the ability to put five points into enchanting with all the elements.
You've acquired the skill: Personal Weapon Enchanting with the Power of the Elements I.
The magic of the four Great Elements envelops your weapon, adding 42% to its base physical damage.
Attention! Your weapon will bind to you if enchanted with this spell, and neither other players nor NPCs will be able to use it.
I maxed out the skill.
You've acquired the skill: Personal Weapon Enchanting with the Power of the Elements II.
The magic of the four Great Elements envelops your weapon, adding 50% to its base physical damage.
Attention! Your weapon will bind to you if enchanted with this spell, and neither other players nor NPCs will be able to use it.
A 50% boost to physical damage at the expense of 25 talent points with 33 remaining. I made some mental calculations—everything seemed to work out. And now…
You've learned the spell: Stoneskin.
Casting time: 1 second.
Mana cost: 30 points.
Duration: 2 hours.
Your skin is hardened with the power of earth, reducing incoming physical damage by 1%.
Same as with the enchanting, I raised Stoneskin to level 5, then did the same for Ice Shield, Fire Shield and Lightning Shield, thus unlocking Shield of the Elements, which may not have imparted additional physical damage absorption but added 5% to elemental resistances for every level of the skill. Naturally, I maxed out the skill as well.
You've acquired the skill: Shield of the Elements V.
Casting time: 1 second.
Mana cost: 300 points.
Duration: 2 hours.
The magic of the Great Elements protects you, absorbing part of the incoming physical and elemental damage. You acquire the ability to ignore 20% physical damage, 25% fire damage, 25% water damage, 25% air damage and 25% earth damage.
With eight talent points left, I moved on to attacks.
Gust of Wind I.
Energy: 10 points.
Instant.
Cooldown: 2 seconds.
Minimum level: 10.
Melee range required; melee weapon.
An instant attack that deals 100% damage on top of the weapon's base damage.
Slows the target's movement by 5% for 5 seconds.
1% chance to stun the target for 1 second.
Ice Blade I.
Energy: 10 points.
Instant.
Cooldown: 2 seconds.
Minimum level: 10.
Melee range required; melee weapon.
An instant attack that deals 100% damage on top of the weapon's base damage.
Slows the target's movement by 5% for 5 seconds.
1% chance to freeze the target for 1 second.
Tongue of Flame I.
Energy: 10 points.
Instant.
Cooldown: 2 seconds.
Minimum level: 10.
Melee range required; melee weapon.
An instant attack that deals 100% weapon damage.
Ignores 1% of the target's physical defense.
Stone Blade I.
Energy: 10 points.
Instant.
Cooldown: 2 seconds.
Minimum level: 10.
Melee range required; melee weapon.
An instant attack that deals 100% damage on top of the weapon's base damage.
Slows the target's movement by 5% for 5 seconds.
1% chance to stun the target for 1 second.
Eight talent points and four skills. No way I was going to pass on Tongue of Flame—way too unique of a skill. And for my second, I was leaning toward Ice Blade, if only for my affinity for ice… Hold up! Altus was teleporting in combat—did I have something like that as well? After five minutes of searching, I found it! The skill was called Jump; you could add one point to it at level 50, and the second only at 100.
Jump I.
Mana cost: 50 points.
Instant.
Cooldown: 25 seconds.
Minimum level: 50.
Teleports the caster to a set point within a 20 yard radius. Requires line of sight. Removes all stun and movement-impairing effects.
There. It was time to wrap up.
You've learned the spell: Tongue of Flame V.
Instant.
Energy cost: 30 points.
Cooldown: 2 seconds.
You attack the enemy with a blade burning with the power of fire, dealing 150% damage on top of the weapon's base damage and ignori
ng 5% physical defense.
You've learned the spell: Ice Blade II.
Instant.
Energy cost: 20 points.
Cooldown: 2 seconds.
You attack the enemy with a blade of ice, dealing 120% damage on top of the weapon's base damage, slowing the target by 10% for 10 seconds with an additional 2% chance to freeze the target for 2 seconds.
You've learned the spell: Jump I.
Instant.
Mana cost: 50 points.
Cooldown: 25 seconds.
You teleport to a set point within a 20 yard radius. Requires line of sight. The jump removes all stun and movement-impairing effects.
There, I was done. Whether I was right in my assumptions, only time would tell. I threw 39 stat points into vigor and 25 into constitution. Now I would have enough energy for 20 strikes, and I could buff up my hit points with equipment bonuses, if need be. On that note, I went back to my character's expanded window.
Archmage Altus' Apprentice, Shaartakh's Slayer—Krian, level 67.
Race: human [demon]
Agility: 10
5.05% chance to hit critically with physical attacks: 5% base, .05% agility bonus.
5.05% chance to dodge physical attacks: 5% base, .05% agility bonus.
1% damage reduction from falling.
Strength: 100
1% boost to armor.
20% boost to physical damage.
500 lbs carrying capacity.
Constitution: 46
460 hit points.
Vigor: 60
600 energy points.
Spirit: 67
5.67% mana and energy regeneration in combat: 5% base + .67% spirit bonus.
5.67% mana and energy regeneration out of combat: 5% base + .67% spirit bonus.
.67% HP regeneration out of combat: 0% base + .67% spirit bonus.
Intellect: 67
5.34% chance to hit critically with spells: 5% base + .34% intellect bonus.
13.4% to spell power.
670 mana points.
Armor: 20
Abilities and skills:
Personal Weapon Enchanting with the Power of the Elements V
Shield of the Elements V
Tongue of Flame V
Ice Blade II
Jump I
Passive skills and achievements:
Shaartakh's Slayer
Archmage Altus' Apprentice
Toughness: 33%.
Bonus to damage with swords: +2%.
Bonus to heavy armor: +2%.
Magic Resistances:
Water magic: 0% (25% with Shield of the Elements).
Air magic: 0% (25% with Shield of the Elements).
Earth magic: 0% (25% with Shield of the Elements).
Fire magic: 0% (25% with Shield of the Elements).
Mental magic: 95%.
Dark magic: 67%.
Nature magic: none.
Light magic: 67%.
Relations with other races: Humans—hostile, Elves—hostile, Orcs—hostile, Dark Elves—hostile, Dwarves—hostile, Drow—hostile, Demons—unfriendly, neutral in Ashtar Dominion.
I went into Settings and removed Shaartakh's Slayer from my name bar. The monster was essentially a solo skill for the archmage, and I was already reaping the rewards of the achievement by way of bonuses. Then I transferred all of my abilities, save for the enchantment, to my action bar. I had four boxes remaining.
It was time to sort through my trophies. I'd been itching to sneak a peak at what was in my bag, but I'd promised myself to wait until I was done with the talents. Now the time had come, so I started with armor and weapons.
Out of the sixteen items dropped by Shaartakh, only two were of any value at this point in time. But it was the kind of value that made my head spin!
Moonlight Garment.
Chestguard: leather.
Durability: 2789/3000.
Epic scalable. An item from the Moonlight set.
No minimum level.
At level 10:
armor: 25.
+15 to intellect,
+10 to spirit,
+15 to constitution,
+5% to spell power.
Weight: 2 lbs.
From the armor set of the Elven King, Nakilon the Divider.
Requital.
Sword: two-handed.
Durability: 2489/3000.
Epic scalable.
No minimum level.
At level 10:
damage: 46-71,
+15 to strength,
+5 to vigor,
+10 to constitution,
+.5% to critical hit chance with a physical attack.
Weight: 15 lbs.
Forged by dwarves in the fiery chambers of Kuad Dor for Ertadyon.
Well, my luck was bound to run out at some point! Two scalable epic items, and I could use neither, since my class couldn't equip leather armor or two-handed swords. I sighed with disappointment. Scalable items grew in level and power along with their owner, and I couldn't begin to imagine what they were worth. Considering that they were dropped by a level 473 unique boss, each could probably fetch a luxury sports car.
As a rule, unique bosses dropped items with increased stats—the higher the boss' level, the better the stat bonuses. I stashed both items in storage to be dealt with later. The remaining fourteen items—eight rares and six epics—soon followed. Picture a Neanderthal stumbling onto a nuclear landmine. The analogy was more than apt, since the items were all level 400+, and I couldn't even sell them to anyone. Well, I could in theory, but I wasn't going to get back anything close to their real value.
Moving on the vessels, I had twenty vials of Shaartakh's blood and six of his saliva—all unique, unsurprisingly, since there was only one Shaartakh. The blood increased the value of any capped-out profession by one; the saliva added a random stat point to a weapon up to level 450, depending on the item's level. Awesome! As far as I knew, leveling professions at higher levels was sheer torture, so this would be by far the easiest +20 to any profession. And +1 stat to a weapon needed no explanation—random, sure, but better than a hole in the head!
Seven vials with Hellspawn Liver Extracts—a rare category base ingredient for level 200+ alchemical potions. According to the wiki, one example was the Great Elixir of Magic Resistance, which boosted all maximum resistances by 10% for six hours and persisted through death. The component was surely quite expensive, but useless to me for the moment. Who knew when I'd level my alchemy to 200, or if I would pick up alchemy at all?
Six epic quality vials with a Potion of Greater Healing, which instantly removed all diseases and curses and restored all hit points. Nice! In light of the recent changes of 20% reduction in levels and stats upon death, this could prove truly irreplaceable.
A strange unique vial the color of gold:
Shaartakh's Breath.
Unique item. Potion.
Duration: 30 seconds.
Effect: the mighty Monster's breath transforms your essence, making your stats on par with the stats of your opponent or the strongest enemy within a 20 yard radius.
Break to use.
I shrugged. Sure, when facing Shaartakh or someone of that caliber, it would be cool to acquire those stats for half a minute, but then what? Your gear and weapon would remain unchanged. Or would they? I wasn't going to waste the potion's single use to find out. At the very least, this little bottle should be able to save my life in a pinch.
But the remaining five vials were all good news!
Shaartakh's Venom.
Unique item. Potion.
Duration: 600 seconds.
Effect: no creature can withstand the ancient Monster's venom. Your opponent's health will shrink to 1/10th of their maximum value.
Throw at your opponent to use.
I knew raid leaders that would sell their soul for five vials like this! And using it solo would be akin to swatting a fly with a jackhammer. But certainly a nice ace to have up your sleeve in case of an emer
gency.
Filling up the last four belt slots, I put two Potions of Greater Healing, one poison, just in case, and, after some hesitation, Shaartakh's Breath—if anything, it was another chance at survival. The remaining vials and money I put into my private storage, leaving only fifty gold on me for basic expenses.
It was time to go down, have some chow and shop for some gear. As ridiculous as it sounded, at level 67 my character still hadn't had a single kill.
Suddenly I remembered the two strange items from before. I opened my bag and pulled up the mirror. A lovely oval encased in ornate truesilver—which had some value in its own right—with glass polished to perfection. Most likely of elven craftsmanship.
You've accessed the quest: Isyliel's Mirror.
Quest type: hidden.
Return the mirror to its rightful owner.
Reward: experience, unknown.
And not another word: not about who this Isyliel was nor where to look for her. And another hidden quest to boot. It was almost not even surprising anymore. I shrugged and put the item back in the bag, then pulled out the piece of fabric from there and laid it out on the desk. A menacing boar's muzzle was scowling back at me from the brown background, clearly marking some kind of banner. Tattered at the sides, with two holes in the middle, the fabric was stained with something reddish, presumably blood.
