CHAPTER 14
“OK, *now* will you admit he’s a badass?”
“Yes, I will concede that he’s done an impressive job. However, this latest emotional outburst has me concerned.”
“Because you’d be so calm and collected in his situation?”
“No, because he’s showing signs of psychosis that are hinting at instability.”
“Again, I’ll ask you if you could handle the shit he’s done in the past week?”
“His brain waves are my concern, his actions within the game are yours.”
“Is that your version of the old ‘Stay in your lane, bro?’ I thought he was very specifically chosen for this because of the very “instability” you’re talking about.”
“Yes, just like all the other subjects, he was chosen for both his mixture of ego-centric behavior and genuine knowledge of video games.”
“So what you’re saying is he knows his shit, but then again most assholes do?”
“You have such a way with words.”
“I know, right? It’s like a gift or something.”
“But you’re not wrong. Those are his strengths, yes. What we’ve seen so far is a unique mix of gameplay, trading, and combat situations that will be familiar with anyone interested in this genre of game.”
“You realize you’re arguing my side, right?”
“Yes, but this last situation has me worried.”
*pause*
“Ok, I’ll bite. What, Dr. Stick-up-my-butt, could you possibly be worried about?”
“I’m just concerned that he’s going to go off the rails. I’ve read some of the other reports and-”
“Whoa, I thought we weren’t allowed to see the AAR’s of the others?!”
“Calm down, not the full after action reports. I know AARs are classified, but they have published some...generic results. Final actions so to speak, and there have been some rather drastic results. Some subjects have experienced a complete psychotic break and slaughtered everyone and everything in the game, while others have folded completely and become useless in terms of content generation.”
“I don’t imagine either of those ended very well for them?”
“Let’s just say while he may have his differences with the other subjects, there’s one trait they ALL have in common.”
“Yeah?”
“I like to call it the NOGASIYD trait.”
*pause*
“No gah side? Ok, I’m going to have to ask again, what the hell does that mean?”
“N-O-G-A-S-I-Y-D. No one gives a shit if you disappear. There’s nothing to cover up if no one is looking for you.”
As with just about every other engagement I’ve had thus far, a number of notification icons are awaiting me once my head clears enough to acknowledge them.
My Shield and Medium Armor skills have advanced again, my blunt weapons went up two levels, and I even managed to pick up a new skill. Hot damn!
CONGRATULATIONS!
You have gained the skill SHIELD BASH! Thanks to your persistence and dedication to the art of smashing your foes with your shield, you have achieved Rank 1 in the skill SHIELD BASH! All shields will now have a damage rating as well as the standard protection stats!
+2% to all SHIELD BASH damage rolls
CONFIRM
Much to my surprise, my next notification tells me I have advanced my new skill up to level 2! Well, I guess that makes sense, I must have smacked those bastards four or five times.
I pull up my character sheet and see that I have seem to have gotten closer to leveling up, finally.
NAME: STONEHEART
POINTS TO DISTRIBUTE:
TiTLE: MASTER
RACE: HUMAN
CLASS: FIGHTER
CHARACTER STATS:
Might 19
Agility 9
Constitution 9
Perception 9
Intelligence 9
Charisma 9
Luck 9
Stamina (M+A+C+50) 87/87
Mana (P+I+C+50) 77/77
Hitpoints (M+A+C+L+P+50) 105/105
STATS (4 PER LEVEL):
ABILITY (1 PER LEVEL):
EXPERIENCE:
PROG. TO NEXT LEVEL
+9.5 melee/ +9.5% to crits
+4.5% to hit/ +4.5% to dodge
+4.5% to resists/ +9 hp/min
+4.5 to spot/ +4.5 range dam.
+.9% to xp/ +4.5 to magic
+4.5 to social reactions
Affects all skills by 4.5%
0
0
2400
8/10
SKILLS: % TO NEXT LEVEL:
UNARMED COMBAT 1 (45%)
STEALTH 4 (0%)
STEALTH ATTACK 2 (0%)
BLADES
SMALL BLADES 2 (0%)
LONG BLADES 2 (29%)
AXES (ALL) 1 (0%)
MACES (ALL) 3 (27%)
SHIELDS 3 (3%)
PERSUASION 2 (0%)
ARMOR (ALL)
LIGHT 2 (3%)
MEDIUM 2 (20%)
HEAVY 1 (0%)
INTIMIDATE 1 (0%)
Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
SHIELD BASH 2 (30%)
SPELLS
NONE
ABILITIES
NONE
PERKS
Master
N/A
So I have 8 out of 10 to level, whatever the hell that means, I consider. I guess maybe this is a leveling system based off of skill usage, not just generic experience. My eyes shift up one line on the character sheet, and I snort loudly. Ok, so why the hell do I even get experience?
I analyze my experience points number, and I’m rewarded with probably the most important information I’ve gotten since starting this damn game.
EXPERIENCE (XP)
Experience measures the amount you have learned in the game, from using skills to successfully completing quests. The player may spend those experience points to advance skills they have used during this level’s progression.
For example, If a player has raised the LONG BLADES skill through use during the rise from character level 2 to level 3, he can spend experience points to advance the LONG BLADES skill. However, if a player has NOT raised his BLACKSMITH skill through use during the rise from level 2 to level 3, he cannot spend experience points to raise the BLACKSMITH skill.
Each level purchased costs 500*(next level) of skill.
EX: Level 1 ---> 2 = 500*2 xp (1000)
Level 2 ---> 3 = 500*3 xp (1500)
Plopping down on the same headstone I had before, I try to make sense of this new info. “So, in this level I’ve raised,” I begin ticking items off my fingers, “Long Blades, Blunt Weapons twice, my Shield Skill twice, my new Shield Bash skill twice, and my Medium Armor skill.” I start over and start counting a new set of skills. “With Stealth, Stealth Attack, Short Blades and..." I stop counting and wave my hands around in the air, "all the others from previous lives, I don’t get to spend experience points to level them up.” Nodding to myself I say, “That’s fair,” as I close that window and look back at my experience gained. “All right, 2400 xp will get me at least one level in something.” I decide to test the system and attempt to raise my Axe skill.
YOU ARE SPENDING 1000 XP TO ADVANCE THE SKILL:
AXES 1 ---> 2
IS THIS CORRECT?
YES / NO
I select “YES”, but another notification window immediately pops up.
YOU MAY NOT ADVANCE THE SKILL:
AXES 1 ---> 2
AS YOU HAVE NOT USED THIS SKILL THIS LEVEL.
CONFIRM
I nod to myself again, confirming my understanding of this system. “I like it, that makes sense. I never understood why games would let you advance a skill without using it, or even at least reading a manual or lore book on a topic.”
I look back over my skills, consider my xp, and decide I want to wait to purchase another level in anything. “With the points I have,” I muse out loud, “I would only be able to raise one skill, but I need two to level. Seeing as I don’t know what else I’ll be facing, and the fact that my skills seem to be leveling just fine out here in the boonies on their own, I’ll save them for now.”
With a heavy sigh, I turn back to a task I’ve been avoiding up till now. I approach the black-robed corpse on the ground and reach down to touch it. My hand comes up short as I kneel over the body.
“A body you made,” I mutter accusingly to myself.
The second one you’ve made, in fact.
I shake my head to clear those thoughts, and I answer, “Yeah, well he damn sure would have made me a body had I stopped to offer him a mint or something.” My resolve stiffens and I force myself to understand in the two situations. “The first time, yeah that was straight-up murder.” My hand comes up as if to forestall an argument from a non-existent adversary. “OK, involuntary manslaughter at best. It was an accident, that bastard bit me, and I reacted.” My head cocks to the side and I say, “It’s actually his fault, if you think about it.” I begin to nod. Suddenly I’m reminded of a certain Jim Carrey movie in which he convinces his unfaithful client that she’s the victim in all this, that her husband drove her into the arms of another man. I actually find myself trying to empathize with her, blaming the old fart who bit me that he is the reason my knife cut his throat. Then I remembered the movie’s name, and drop that train of thought. I can lie to them, but I can’t lie to myself. Not anymore.
I shut all the other voices from my head and reach down once more to loot the body. Thank God I don’t have to actually search him, I think. My hand lightly touches the hem of his robe by his ankle and a prompt appears in my vision.
WOULD YOU LIKE TO LOOT GORIAN THE GRAY?
Black Necromancer Robes
Iron Dagger
Herbalist Pouch
Note
Ring
Loot all?
CONFIRM CANCEL
In my best Lando Calrissian impression, I mutter, “Hello, what have we here?” Not only is there loot, but it looks like two of the items are in different colors from the others. And that usually means only one thing.
Magic.
I select “loot all”, and open my inventory, which on this toon is nothing more than a large backpack with a 3x4 grid of item slots. Sure enough, the outline of the iron dagger and the pouch are the standard white I’ve seen, but the robes and ring are a deep shade of blue. “Something I definitely have NOT seen,” I say with a greedy smile.
I flick a finger at the inventory icon for the robe, and the grin twists into a sneer of disgust. “Well, shit.”
BLACK NECROMANCER ROBES
Made of wool and dyed jet-black, this well-made robe is lighter than expected and makes you feel vaguely uneasy. Without the basic understanding of enchantments, however, you have no idea what magic this robe holds.
Required LORE skill: 1
CONFIRM
My attention moves over to the ring icon in my inventory and I get a very similar message.
RING
This simple, silver band has a small onyx gemstone set within it and feels cold to the touch. Without the basic understanding of enchantments, however, you have no idea what magic this ring holds.
Required LORE skill: 1
CONFIRM
“Alas, dear Bonefist. We never knew you,” I sigh melodramatically. “The wondrous things you could have done with these items....”
My attention is drawn to the one other item in my backpack. The note.
Hmm, I grunt as I stand and kick the leg of the corpse next to me. “You wouldn’t be holding onto it if it wasn’t important, right?”
My hand moves over to the note in my inventory screen, and immediately a new sound rustles in my ear. It is the sound of paper unfurling, and a folded, dirty scroll unrolls in the center of my vision. The handwriting is rough and sloppy, barely legible, and looks to have been written with something disturbingly brown, like the color of...dried blood? There are misspellings, no punctuation, and the sentence structure leaves...well, everything to be desired. I chuckle to myself. “Since when did you become a literary critic, jackass?”
GORYAN
BIG BOSS TOLD ME U GET BONES FOR MAKE ARMY
GO TO OLD DUN JUN SEMETA CEMATE GRAVE YARD AND
BRING MANY BONES MANY AS CAN BRING FOR ARMY
NO ONE SEE U OR THEY TELL TOWN
IF THEY SEE U KILL THEM
YOU NO BETTER THAN ME OR BIG BOSS MAKE YOU SMALLER BOSS BUT HE PICK ME I HOPE U DIE
HA!
GRIMETOOTH
“Nope,” I say, emphatically shaking my head. “I know where this is going, and it ain’t happening.” I’ve played this scenario out a hundred times or more, especially in games where I’d made a bunch of alts and been forced to play the beginning of a game dozens of times. My voice takes on a high, simpering tone and I flap my hands around limply. “Oh, save our city! We’re about to be overrun by goblins!” I place the back of my hand across my forehead, my voice getting faint and airy, “Please, we’re all just farmers and workers, we’ll never survive without yo-I DON’T CARE IF YOU DIE!” I drop my hand, ending my rant at the top of my lungs. I sure am screaming a lot recently, I think to myself.
An annoyingly familiar voice pops into my head and gently asks, Do I need to ask you why you’re so angry again?
"Screw you."
“DAMNIT!” I grunt at the sky. “Seriously? You’re trying to make me go back there, aren’t you?” I flick the note back into my inventory in frustration and slap the screen from my vision.
I force myself to think of all the reasons I don’t want to go back to that little flea-bitten town.
“For one thing, they’ll probably try to kill me again. Secondly….” My mind falters for a second as I struggle to think of another reason why I shouldn’t go back and warn the villagers. “Did I mention they’ll kill me again??”
Suddenly and quite without my bidding, images started popping into my head. The little girl with flowers, the families in the inn having dinner, the laughter….
The hot redhead.
Heaving my bulk from my sitting position, I shout out at the universe, “Fine! But if they kill me again, just know it’s YOUR FAULT!”
I stomp towards the exit of the graveyard, kicking the damn shovel out of the way as I walk. It skitters across the dirt, rolling over a little mound left from the flingings of the necromancer’s frantic digging pace. I turn to continue on before decades of gaming take over. I pause, turning to look over at the rusted tool.
You never know when you’re going to need a shovel.
I turn and step over the pile to retrieve it and a smile slides onto my face. Time to test out the inventory limits, I think to myself. I hook the toe of my boot just behind the shovel head, near the center of balance, and quickly raise my foot up, flinging the shovel up to chest level. I deftly snatch it out of the air. My hand drops down to my lower back and makes contact with the small backpack I’m wearing, and my inventory screen springs to life.
With my off hand, I reach up and tap the first blank box in my inventory, and the rough wooden handle of the shovel, along with its weight, vanishes from my hand. An image of the shovel appears in my 4x3 backpack, taking up two vertical slots like the robes and other weapons. I feel a slight tug on my back letting me know the encumbrance has been added to my pack, and I swipe the screen away in satisfaction.
I turn and continue on my way out of the cemetery, passing right by the mausoleum. I turn casually, glancing into the dark shadows behind the disintegrating gate. And freeze.
Without warning, a sudden urge grips me, stronger than anything I’ve felt in this life so far, and I take an involuntary step towards the small stone edifice. What the hell?
Something inside that mausoleum is calling to me. Not audibly like a siren or anything, but there is an overwhelming need to enter the depths of those shadows.
A sudden thought strikes me, and I open my inventory again, bringing the note back out. Something I must have missed after my haste to kill the necromancer and the resulting existential crisis, I wryly tell myself.
I read the note silently again, once more taking in the ridiculous spelling and grammar. One phrase catches my eye and I absently mutter, “Dun Jun Graveyard.” I whisper it to myself again, “Dun Jun....” My eyes widen as realization strikes me.
Dungeon.
“Holy shit,” I whisper to myself, my stomach twisting in excited knots. “That’s the entrance to a dungeon!”
There are a hundred reasons people play video games like the one I’m living in. Some play for the novelty, some for the challenge, some for the escape. But they are all lying to themselves if they don’t say the REAL reason they play is the loot.
And no other aspect of a game provides better gear, gold, and goodies than a dungeon.
In some games, dungeons are nothing more than a separate instance to enter and kill more mobs. In other cases, they are end-points to a quest, the last room guarded by a boss-level creature of some kind. Sometimes, especially in MMO’s, they are home to vastly elevated monsters, elite and orders of magnitude more difficult than ordinary monsters of their level.
I pace back and forth for a moment in front of the rusted gateway, considering my options. In the end, I have to consider the necromancer I just took out.
“Yes, I was able to defeat him and his pets,” I justify to myself, “and he was obviously a much higher level than I was. His disintegrating death bolt was scary as shit, though, and he was readily able to raise four skellies. Twice. That Gorian dude wasn’t messing around.” Another thought occurs to me. “And if he could only raise four at a time,” I reason, “he either has a more permanent way of raising the dead or he’s just a lackey for someone who does. He was sent to this graveyard to bring as many bones as possible for an army.”
The implications of that tumble around between my ears for a moment before I come to a painful realization.
That dungeon is way out of my league.
Damnit.
I kick the wheel of the overturned cart in frustration, and turn away from the beckoning entrance. I whirl back to the shadowed crypt and point furiously into its recesses. “For now.”
Instinctively, I gesture to my compass icon in the lower tool bar and bring up the world map, one that is 99% blackened out save for a small, wriggling line to represent my brief travels in this life. I mentally zoom in on my current location and tap the small arrow indicating my position. Sure enough, a notification window pops up and an option appears.
WOULD YOU LIKE TO PLACE A DESCRIPTIVE MARKER AT THIS LOCATION? YOU MAY HAVE UP TO 1 ACTIVE PERSONAL MARKER AT A TIME.
YES NO
With a smile I select “YES” and type in “Dun Jun Graveyard”. I am rewarded with a small downward-pulsing arrow indicating the spot on my map. “Ok, now I can come back here and break some bones when I’ve gained a few levels.”
I turn my back on the certain glory, gold, and gory death in the mausoleum dungeon and weave my way out of the graveyard. I glance up at my minimap to orient myself and ensure that I am headed south, the direction Gorian has said the village lay, and begin jogging along as quickly as I dare.
Might as well get this over with, for good or bad.