In all the world, there are few things that are as pleasant as waking to the smell of sizzling bacon. The sweet and savory aroma strikes something deep within our primal nature, causing the mouth to water and the stomach to grumble.
Arron’s hunger burned as he awoke to that scent, looking up at the ceiling of a cave. There was only one reason he could be in the cave.
I died. Again. All that work, all that XP, just wiped away.
The disappointment was heavy, weighing enough that he ignored the delicious smell wafting over from the campfire. He couldn’t even bring himself to review his notifications. He simply wasn’t ready to see how bad his losses were.
Arron hammered his fist on the ground with a grunt. He really thought he had that tyrannosaurus bitch.
Where did he go wrong? He’d used his timed strike from inside the beast, while he held his breath, and fought through the pain of her stomach acid removing the top layers of his skin. Even with the Pain Tolerance… that had hurt.
There was the torchlight and the shocked look on his party’s faces as he asked for heals before passing out.
Granted, it probably was shocking to witness a hammer wielding crazy person bursting out of a dinosaur’s chest cavity. Arron winced imagining what he must have looked like.
“Whenever you’re done feeling sorry for yourself, lad,” a gruff voice called, breaking through Arron’s dark thoughts.
Startled, Arron rolled over, pulling Mule from his Inventory on reflex.
He was in the Valkyrie’s cave as expected, but Hildr was nowhere to be seen. Instead, his party was sleeping around a chipper little campfire, while Torbin stirred a cast-iron skillet.
“Come on over. Bacon’s almost ready,” Torbin continued, not bothering to look up.
Arron checked his surroundings again before putting his hammer away and joining the dwarf.
Torbin put a finger to his lips as Arron approached, and gestured at the party. “It’s getting late. Everyone opted for a little shut-eye while we waited for you to wake. Best to let ’em sleep for now.”
Nodding, Arron took the plate Torbin offered and bit into the delicious-smelling bacon.
Well Fed!
Things always seem easier on a full belly.
Yummm. Bacon.
The crispy bacon, like most things he ate in Interius, was delicious. It was cooked perfectly. Crispy on the outside with a chewy center, slight burning to add flavor. He moaned his pleasure as he took another bite, drawing a knowing smile from Torbin, who was also happily chewing.
“Amazing how food can taste when you remove the need for taste buds eh?”
The dwarf’s smile faded after a moment though, and he dropped his gaze as he set aside his plate.
“Look, Arron. I need to talk to ya before the others wake up.”
Arron’s heart beat quicker. Was Torbin about to kick him out of the party for having botched the T-Rex battle? He needed this party. He finally felt like someone had his back. Maybe he could convince him to let him try again. To fight Tina again.
Arron paused as he chewed his breakfast, wiping his mouth on his sleeve in anticipation of arguing for another chance.
Torbin took a long breath, blowing it out slowly as he formulated what he wanted to say. “I’ll just get straight to it. Arron, I owe you an apology.”
Arron stared back, shocked.
Well… didn’t see that coming.
Torbin raised a hand, cutting off any reply before continuing. “Lemme finish. You shouldn’t have taken so much damage in that fight. I’m your healer, and I got distracted in the moment. Got excited about how much aggro you can hold. I think the whole team did, but that doesn’t really excuse it. I should have been on you with heals and support, and instead, we just sort of left you out to dry. It’s not cool. I’m sorry.”
Having finished his apology, the dwarf looked up at Arron, watching for a hint of reaction.
Arron looked him steadily in the eye as he swallowed his bacon and his eyes narrowed a hair.
Emotions warred in his chest. Relief at not being kicked out of the party, combined with some hurt at how close he had come to losing progress toward Bella because of the party’s mistake. Briefly he considered a spiteful response, something comfortably scathing. But memories of the quick forgiveness he received during his little outburst cooled his anger.
“You gonna do it again?” Arron asked.
“No,” Torbin said immediately. “No more teachin’. One-hundred percent regular teamwork from here forward. Scouts honor.”
Nodding, Arron reached over and took the remaining bacon from Torbin’s plate. “Alright then, facial foliage. Here’s to teamwork.” Arron lifted the bacon in a cheers before stuffing the whole fist-sized ball in his mouth.
Torbin chuckled.
“So, what happened?” Arron asked after he swallowed.
“Well, as you may remember, you killed Tina.”
“I thought I did, yea,” Arron smiled. “Got worried for a moment when I woke up in the Valkyrie’s cave, but glad to hear it worked.”
“Well, at the end of the dungeon, after you kill Tina, the locals all lose their mind. The story says something about their false deity falling before them, driving them mad. You can re-run the dungeon if you want the specifics. Anyway, they lit the temple on fire, and we ran like hell to escape. Carried you on my shoulder. Headed here to set up camp and wait for you to recover. Easy peasy.”
“You carried me again?” Arron asked with distaste. “I really gotta do something about getting hauled around like a sack of potatoes all the time.”
“You mean like train your stealth?” the dwarf retorted.
“Gotta be something,” Arron said, rubbing his chin.
“Train your stealth,” Torbin said again, firmer this time.
Arron was quiet for a moment before replying, “Yea, I’m sure there’s something I can do. I’ll just have to figure it out.”
Torbin rolled his eyes. “Anyway, now that the awkwardness is out of the way, help me wake everyone. It’s getting late, and I know Sonya needs to log soon.”
There were smiles all around once everyone awoke, with several congratulations and hearty slaps on the back for Arron’s first dungeon.
Sonya, the last to wake up, congratulated Arron. She promptly yawned and exited the instance, teleporting back to The Prancing Player, an inn in Glendale.
It was abrupt enough that it made Arron laugh. Clearly, Sonja was ready to log out. Though he appreciated the gesture of her waiting to congratulate him.
The fast travel when leaving a dungeon sounded like a handy element for adventures.
Arron was well versed in how it could take a while to hike to whatever places a quest needed him to go. The caravans were faster, but they only went to specific places, usually in the vicinity of a dungeon entrance.
But once you were inside an instance, you could “Abandon the Adventure,” and it would return you to your spawn, which for most of the players in Nordem was Glendale.
“Sonya’s got the right idea,” Torbin said after she left. “I need to sleep too. Have to do a tour tomorrow, start looking at campuses.”
“Yea. I should probably be somewhat functional at work,” Iris replied, stretching her arms over her head.
Arron looked back and forth between his party members.
“You’re all logging out?”
“Gotta sleep to work, gotta work to play,” Iris replied, the mantra seeming well-worn from her lips.
Turning, Arron looked at Mercutio, “You too?”
“My kids generally wake up with the sun. Give or take thirty minutes,” Mercutio replied, dropping her character persona. “I got pancakes with chocolate chip smiley faces to make, I’m afraid.”
“Right. Yea. I was just hoping to run another dungeon. I mean, that one went so well and all,” Arron replied, trying and failing to hide his disappointment.
Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.
Torbin laughed lightly. “I knew you’d like it. Don’t worry, boyo. We’ll log back in tomorrow evening, hit another dungeon, maybe even two. For now, though, sleep, food, and in the morning, sweet black coffee.”
A muttered agreement went through the group. Arron nodded along as everyone Abandoned the Adventure, teleporting back to town.
***
“What do you mean I can’t train now?” Arron asked incredulously, watching the blacksmith lock up the forge with an old iron key.
Smith was cleaner than Arron had ever seen him. As if the gruff man had taken a week’s worth of baths in a single afternoon. Gone were the soot stains and charred apron, replaced with a pressed tunic, well fitted to his muscular frame, and matching pressed pants. Where well-worn, scarred leather boots had been to protect his feet, Smith wore merchant’s shoes, shining with a recent polish. Even his beard was brushed out and oiled to a sheen.
“And why are you so dressed up? Where the hell are you going?”
Smith smiled. “I, my mildly insulting friend, am heading home for the evening, nothing more. I have children to see, a wife to woo, and dinner to eat. My better half is very particular about our carpets, so I clean off the soot and grime here, where soot and grime belong. In answer to your other question, no. You can’t train now. As I said, I have a wife to woo, and that, for me in particular, takes precedence over your desire to hammer out a bunch of ugly shovels.”
“But… my team just logged out! I have time to train,” Arron protested as the man walked away. “Aren’t you supposed to be available for the players?”
“Not tonight, I’m not!” Smith called over his shoulder, his gate steady, not giving Arron so much as a glance.
Well, shit.
Arron, for obvious reasons, couldn’t log out like the rest of his party. And with the 12:1 ratio, assuming his party was going to sleep and then work or school or whatever other real-world responsibilities they needed to take care of, he might not see them for over a week in-game.
He had lots of time to train, and like hell was he going to waste it.
Ideally, he would run another dungeon, the recent success of Jurassic Classic exciting him for the possibilities. Only, with his party logged out, he wasn’t sure how to go about it.
He had tried to find a “pickup” party. A temporary group that got together just to run a dungeon or raid or whatever, but despite his enthusiasm, the people he talked to were quick to sniff out his lack of gaming knowledge and experience.
“Sorry, dude, not looking to power Level a newb,” the last half-orc had said when he responded to running some pirate-sounding dungeon.
“I don’t know what power leveling is,” Arron replied, annoyed. “I just want to run a dungeon. Do you need someone or not?”
“Do you know anything about BlackBard’s Revenge? Have you run the dungeon before?”
Arron shifted uncomfortably. “Well, no. But you guys tell me what to do and I can help.”
The half-orc laughed cruelly. “Look, guy. There are timed battles in BlackBard. We aren’t here to babysit you while you figure out your ass from your sword arm. Find a group willing to hold your hand somewhere else.”
Arron’s teeth had hurt from the force of his grinding. At least he successfully restrained himself from punching the much higher-Level player.
He wasn’t really interested in talking to other groups after that.
So that left him with questing, crafting, or wandering.
Questing would have been fine, except he didn’t have any quests at the moment. He’d completed all the ones around Glendale with Torbin, and traveling to find more didn’t come with any guarantees. He could easily end up wrapped in a bunch of beginner quests for another zone that didn’t provide any experience. By the time he got to anything worthwhile, the party could be logging back in.
And Smith just ruined his plans for crafting.
Double shit.
With a sigh, he turned and headed toward The Prancing Player.
It seemed like a good place to assign his Stats, go over his notifications and generally catch up with the “meta” things he tended to ignore. He needed to buy a personal space anyway.
The streets were nearly empty, as Arron walked through the small town he had grown to know so well. While Glendale was never completely abandoned, he’d become accustomed to the time in the real world affecting the logged-in populace. Times like this were quieter, more peaceful.
Which annoyed him. He wasn’t interested in peaceful at the moment. He had grinding to do.
The inn at the end of Glendale’s main road was a nondescript building. Situated directly at the intersection, the building’s real estate value would be through the roof in the real world. With video game logic, it sat content between the larger barracks and merchant’s shops that were to either side. The simple demeanor hid its importance. Several people were headed into the inn, many chatting or yawning on their way to log out.
Inside, the understated aesthetic led to long wooden tables paired with benches for the few players seated in the hearth room, most sipping on mugs, their vision out of focus as they cruised their interface.
Walking up to the bar, Arron set down a stack of coins. “Beer, please. And the private space upgrade as well.”
Nodding, the bartender swiped the coins and replaced them with a large mug sporting a healthy foam.
Personal Space Purchased!
You have purchased somewhere to call your own. Your personal space will be available at a variety of locations throughout Interius, each linking to the same room where you may store your prized belongings and rest without fear of infiltration.
Home is where your stuff is.
Taking a long sip of his frosty beverage, Arron turned his attention to the notifications he had been putting off checking.
He nearly dropped his beer.
Level Up – You are now Level 29!
You have met the necessary requirements to progress along your path.
While each step is necessary, not every step is important.
He had Leveled six times! Six! How was that even possible? He quickly dove into the remaining prompts.
Boss Battle!
– Tyrannical Tina –
The figurehead of the Jurassic Cult, Tina, is a Tyrannosaurus Rex of unusual intelligence.
Everyone, hold onto your butts.
New Living Weapon Ability – Companion Call!
Because of the depth in the link forged through your bond, Mule Near can now be summoned to return to your hand.
For the truly codependent.
Boss Slain!
– Tyrannical Tina –
Your party has slain Tyrannical Tina, the figurehead of the Jurassic Cult. You will be awarded experience based on your participation.
Experience percentage awarded - 78%
Clever Girl.
Dungeon Complete!
– Jurassic Classic –
You have tamed the Isle of Great Lizards, conquered the Ruins of the Jurassic Cult, and defeated Tyrannical Tina in her temple. Congratulations!
You will be awarded experience based on your participation.
Experience percentage awarded - 47%
You found a way!
He’d received 78% of the experience for the battle with Tina? Was that 78% of what he could get at max, or 78% of the total experience awarded? It had to be the total XP, right? And he received 47% of the total XP for the entire dungeon. How was that possible?
With five people in his party, even if he had a few lucky blows, he shouldn’t receive more than around the even 20% split.
The battles with the Brachiosaurus and the Triceratops came to mind, followed by the trapped entrance to the ruins.
The team had been holding back. They’d intentionally held back to allow him to get more experience and more credit from the battle. Providing just enough help to keep him alive, but very little so he could garner the majority of the gains.
Arron was speechless at the foresight of that kind of help. The sheer intentional, pre-meditated character of allowing him to get the majority while he grumbled and complained the whole way.
Slightly embarrassed at his behavior in the dungeon, Arron resolved to thank his friends, again, when they logged back in. Perhaps he could repay their kindness somehow, after he saved Bella.
He assigned his 18 Stat points next, dropping a few into Cunning to hopefully help with weird fights in the future, and then split the rest, bringing his Strength and Toughness to 30 and his Agility to 15.
The bitter quality of his beer was comforting as he sipped, smiling and looking over his updated Character Sheet.
Arron
Level 29
Class: Hammerhead
Strength: 30
Agility: 15
Toughness: 30
Charisma: 7
Knowledge: 7
Cunning: 12
Fate: Hero
Luck: 0
Karma: Nice Guy
Weapon
Mule Near (Damage Variable)
Featherlight: This weapon seems to weigh 1/4th its actual weight to its wielder.
Alpha Aura: Predators, pack leaders, and creatures with an “alpha” status will be far more aggressive to you when you wield this weapon.
Companion’s Call: By exploiting the link forged through your bond, you can call your living weapon to your side.
Living Weapons: Your connection with this weapon has deepened. You now understand its opinions and emotions. Your connection will grow the more you wield it. Like its wielder, stubborn as a mule.
Equipment
Head: Empty
Arms: Skag Bracers
Neck: Empty
Hands: Fighters Calluses
Torso: Studded Tunic
Feet: Well Worn Boots
Shoulders: Empty
Ring 1: Empty
Legs: Worn Leather Pants
Ring 2: Empty
Skills: Blunt (8), Brutal Hit- Passive (9), Timed Strike (5), Seismic Slam (I), Inspection (3)
Traits: Stubborn (III), Haunted (I)
He was pleased with the minor upgrades the dungeon brought to his Skills. They certainly slowed down in their advancement the higher they got in Levels. To see increases in both Timed Strike and Brutal Hit was nice.
Although, as he considered how he killed Tina, it made sense.
Finally, he went through the loot from the Tina battle, tossing most of it into his Inventory to sell later. He almost missed the necklace, only giving it an additional Inspection because it seemed to glow a deep purple color.
Teeth of a Tyrannical Cult
+3 Alpha Aura
+2 Charisma
+5 Toughness
Power begets power.
The necklace was a leather thong with long, sharp teeth hanging at segmented intervals. Primal in its appearance with an aggressive feel that Arron found pleasing, the bones were clearly meant to represent the teeth of Tina but were far too short.
Excitedly he equipped the necklace, immediately feeling the difference in his Toughness as the calluses on his hands thickened a bit.
The smile stayed longer than usual after he reviewed his sheet, sipping his beer in a rare moment of contentment. His progress was acceptable, for now.
It was strange to allow himself to rest, but he had to admit it was nice to let the tension ease in his shoulders.
He turned his attention to the future.
The advancements he’d made didn’t solve his training issue. There had been good progress with Tina and all the dinosaurs, but he needed to keep grinding.
“Any chance you have a quest I can complete?” Arron asked the bartender when he walked by.
The portly man stopped, continuing to polish the inside of a mug. “Afraid not, hero. My quests are all far too low Level for your talents.”
Arron nodded, defeated. He’d expected as much.
“How about a dungeon? Know of one I could solo?”
“I’m not sure there are dungeons anyone could complete alone, hero. Most are full of enemies that come in far too great a number. Hundreds of beasts overwhelming in number and strength.” The Bartender paused, considering. “Why, even Thunder Rolls, though lacking the swarms, has battles that would be sure to kill you.”
Arron nodded again, indicating he could use a refill.
Swarms of enemies had been his weakness, that was for sure. No way he could get through something like Jurassic Classic alone. Just the battle with the Stegosaur Alpha’s would be impossible. His talents lent to one-on-one battles. In those, especially with his Deadly Rage, he could at least have a chance. Maybe.
Arron sat back. Something in that conclusion tickled his brain.
One-on-one, he could stand a chance. One-on-one he could use his Deadly Rage.
Standing up in excitement, Arron called back to the bartender, “Hey, Barkeep! What, what was that dungeon you mentioned? Thunder Falls? The one without the swarms.”
“Thunder Rolls?” the bartender asked, confused.
“Yes!” Arron shouted. “How do I get there?”