Caldwell marched off, barking orders as he went. Dean glanced at the nearby bodies, wanting to loot them all, but thought the lieutenant might take offense if he touched the dead soldiers. Deciding it wasn’t worth potentially starting another fight, this one with trained soldiers, he stuck to the dead bandits.
He collected an assortment of armor and weapons, bringing his arrow total to thirty-five, along with four health potions and two stamina potions. He chugged a health potion, bringing him back to reasonable health.
He turned in a slow circle until the icon for the fort appeared on his compass to the northeast of his position. He debated cutting through the woods in a direct path to the fort or following the main road that wove a bit more to the east. Dean knew the road would eventually cut back towards the fort, it didn’t make sense for the road to bypass the fort completely but wasn’t sure which way would be quicker. Heading straight for the fort would be a shorter distance, but the rocky terrain meant he’d probably spend half the journey climbing up and down outcroppings. As for the road, it would probably be an easier hike, but he had no way of knowing how far it went off course before changing directions.
And that didn’t include any monsters he’d encounter. He wasn’t against more encounters, they would give him the extra experience needed to level up, but he was anxious to finish the tutorial and meet up with his friends.
He pulled out a coin and decided the cutting through the woods would be tails. It came up heads, so he set out along the road. After a hundred paces, Dean lost sight of the village and an oppressive weight of complete isolation sent shivers down his spine. He knew he was imagining it, but the trees seemed to loom down at him and the underbrush reach out to grab him.
He shook his head to clear it. He didn’t need his imagination to make the situation any worse, not with the underbrush thick enough that he couldn’t see further than a few feet on either side of the road. It was the perfect cover to setup an ambush. He doubted that would happen, not in the tutorial at least, and besides, hadn’t he read somewhere that wildlife would typically go quiet if something dangerous was around?
He pulled up the menu to distract himself and to give himself a chance to get familiar with it. Time slowed mid-step, his weight in the middle of shifting from his back foot to his front, and it made Dean feel off balanced. He closed the window, and stopped walking before pulling up the menu again.
Status
Skills
Spells
Alchemy
Abilities
Attributes
Status
Dean Adams
Health
88/100
Stamina
93/100
Mana
100/100
Level
1
Exp.
98/100
Stats
Strength
10
Perception
10
Charisma
10
Endurance
10
Intelligence
10
Poise
10
Agility
10
Wisdom
10
Constitution
10
Deterity
10
Fortitude
10
Luck
10
Reputation
Inventory
Quests
Map
Settings
Logout
Dean wasn’t an avid gamer, not like his friends, but most were easy to figure out since they were identical to stats found in pre-dive games. Strength and Endurance typically tied directly to melee fighting, while Agility and Perception were usually tied to long rage weapons.
However, dexterity was completely new to him. He knew that being ambidextrous meant a person could use both hands, so dexterity was about hand movement. The thought “Pick a card, any card” popped into his head.
Which made him realize that magic might require hand movements to cast spells. Dexterity might directly influence how quickly a person could cast a spell or be a requirement for casting more complex spells.
If dexterity was about hand movements, and the developers had thought the stat through, then it might affect his abilities with the sword. While he’d never used a sword in his life, aside from swinging a stick around as a kid while pretending it was a lightsaber, he assumed that a timely flick of the wrist could disarm an opponent. He hoped the developers had thought the stat through, and that this wasn’t some barely conceived idea like Luck. He glanced at the next column of stats, usually the mental stats.
Fortitude was the only stat that he didn’t recognize there, and by breaking apart the word, he had a fair guess on what it meant, fort being a kind of stronghold and the rest meaning a state of being like attitude. As to how it was useful in game, he decided to just read the description.
Fortitude An individual's ability to maintain courage in pain or adversity. Directly effects magic resistance and buff duration
He cared more about the magic resistance part of the explanation. Having a buff last longer could come in handy, but being able to resist spells might make or break him in a future fight.
That just left the final group, or what he thought were typically the social skills. Charisma and Luck were also pretty standard. Charisma usually included better trade prices and unlocking new dialogue. Luck, on the other hand, was always poorly defined. Curious, he clicked it.
Luck An individual's chances to find or succeed in different sutations. Directly effects the chance of a favorable outcome to randomly occur.
The explanation was on par with other game explanations, meaning it was vague and useless. But games were based on variables and equations, so thinking about it from a programming standpoint, Dean could take a guess on how it worked.
Every time he opened a chest, the game ran an equation to figure out if there was anything in it. He didn’t know the exact numbers, but the first slot would have a high chance of containing something, say a ninety percent chance, with the chances dropping for each consecutive slot until the equation returned an empty slot. Then, the game would run another equation to figure out how rare, from common to super rare, the item generated would be. It was possible that luck nudged the chances for rarer items, making them more common for a person with higher luck, but exactly how much was what really mattered. Since the chances were probably based on percentages, there was no way Luck would change it on a whole percent. If it did, a maxed out Luck skill would guarantee a super rare item every time. On the other hand, if it only changed the percentage by a small amount, say point one percent, then a maxed out skill meant a ten percent chance of a super rare item showing up. Designed like that, Luck was either an exploit for gaining rare items later in the game or was next to useless.
Unfortunately, Dean had no way of testing his theory without dumping any points into luck, and he planned to spend them elsewhere, once he leveled up. Until then, the page was useless, so he flipped over to the equipment menu.
The first page had a picture of him on the left, and his inventory on the right. Clicking on his chest filtered out everything except the breastplates from the inventory list. He selected the best option for each area, not that any of the armor was amazing, but it was better than nothing.
Equipped:
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Location:
Description:
Head
-
Chest
Iron Breastplate
Quality: Adequete
Rarity: Common
Damage Resist: 12-14
Durability: 12/18
Weight: 9 lbs
Attributes: None
Shoulders
-
Arms
-
Hands
Leather Bracers
Quality: Poor
Rarity: Common
Damage Resist: 2-3
Durability: 3/8
Weight: 1 lbs
Attributes: None
Thighs
-
Shins
Iron Greaves
Quality: Adequete
Rarity: Common
Damage Resist: 5-6
Durability: 6/10
Weight: 4 lbs
Attributes: None
Feet
Leather Boots
He checked his weapons last, not finding anything better than the sword and bow he already had equipped and closed the menu. He started walking again, wishing the game would’ve let him peruse it while moving. The woods didn’t feel as oppressive, now that he had equipped better armor and was ready for anything the tutorial could throw at him.
After a few minutes, the underbrush started clearing out, giving him a few of a few hundred paces in either direction, and small gaps in the canopy allowed brief glimpses of sunlight through. The road twisted and bent around large ,mossy boulders and steep rocky cliffs made of the same gray stone. After ten minutes, the road took a wide turn towards the direction of the fort icon on his compass, when a notification popped up.
Optional Quest: Protect the Refugees
Reward: 25 XP
Description: A group of refugees from the village are under attack by bandits
Bonus: +15 xp
Don’t let any villagers die
Dean closed the window to the sound of shouting just ahead. He set out at a run, turning a corner around a large outcropping as the road dipped downward, before his stamina bottomed out.
Below him in the road was a group of ten villagers circling a wagon and armed with various farming equipment holding off four bandits about a hundred paces away. Afraid that he might miss with his bow and hit a villager, Dean was forced to move at a fast walk until his stamina recharged. Halfway down, an arrow arced out of the woods to his left and hit him in the chest. The impact knocked Dean back a few paces, but he kept his feet. He turned to scan the woods and spotted the bandit among the trees just in time to duck beneath another arrow.
Dean sighted as he stood and released. It struck the bandit in the shoulder, the impact knocking the bandit off his feet. Dean drew a second arrow and fired as the bandit came to his knees. The arrow killed the bandit.
His stamina recharged, Dean drew his blade as he ran the last fifty paces. He bashed the nearest bandit with his shoulder as he passed and swung at the next. It caught the bandit off guard and the blow dropped his health by half. Dean turned and jumped at the bandit he’d knocked to the ground. The bandit hadn’t recovered, and Dean took the opportunity to attack. After a few strikes, the bandit’s health dropped to zero.
A blow from the side dropped his health by eight points, and Dean took several steps away as he turned to face the second bandit. Dean started walking forward, his sword swinging as quickly as he could. The relentless attack forced the bandit back until several blows made it through and the bandit died.
With the other two bandits on the other side of the wagon, Dean switched to his bow as he climbed onto the back of the wagon. Armed with pitchforks, the villagers were able to keep the bandits at bay, giving Dean the opening he needed to fire arrows without the chance of accidently hitting one of the villagers. It took five arrows to kill them both. After hitting the second bandit with an arrow, he charged the villagers and killing one before Dean could finish him off.
As Dean climbed down off the wagon, the oldest villager approached him. “Thank you, sir, for saving us. I don’t know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t helped.”
“My pleasure,” Dean replied absently as he glanced at a blinking icon beside his health. It was a green arrow, pointing upwards, with the words ‘level up’ visible beside it when he was looking at the arrow.
“I wonder, sir,” The man asked, “If you’d be willing to stay with us until we reach the fort?”
Optional Quest: Escort the Villagers
Reward: 20 XP
Description: Escort the villagers to Fort Blackwood
“Sure.” Dean said as he pulled up his status menu. The old man froze, his mouth slightly open to say something. Dean sighed as he glanced over the stats one more time, chewing the inside of his lip absently as he decided what to do. In the end, he went with his typical choice, leveling everything up evenly, and started two points in Strength and Endurance, and the last point in Agility.. His max health jumped twenty points, and his weight limit, already near max with the bandit loot, increased as well.
Satisfied, Dean closed the menu and looked at the old man, named Anton according to the icon.
“-ank you, sir,” Anton said, “Times being what they are, we could use someone like yourself.” The man signaled for the other villagers to start walking again and set out in the lead. “Used to be that a man could walk the entire kingdom without fear of bandits…”
Dean ignored the man as he started to loot the first bandit. He was able to pick up two more swords thanks to his improved carry limit but was forced to leave the rest. He also found two more health potions and several more coin pouches, before running to catch up with the wagon.
The old man was still talking when Dean slowed beside him. “…full of monsters. It’s ill tidings, I tell you. Nothing like the ancient tales, thank the Goddess, of the time before the Gods, but something dark is stirring.”
Curious, Dean asked, “The old tales?”
Anton blinked at him in surprise, “The old tales. Didn’t your parents tell you them as a child?” Dean shook his head, but the man’s scripted dialogue continued, “Not the Mad King, thank the Goddess.” The old man stopped talking long enough to kiss his palm and hold it out in front of him for a second. Dean suspected it was something done by rote. Anton continued, “Why, I’ve even heard rumors of kobolds being sighted down south in the glades, and I haven’t heard of that happening since I was a young lad. Not since Lord Godric led the campaign against them as a young man.”
Dean had to admit that the game certainly had a backstory to it. He didn’t know the details yet, certainly had no idea what the timeline looked like, and in truth, he didn’t care unless it was relevant to a quest or beating the game.
“I’ve heard some say, not me mind,” The old man continued, “That it’s from all the soldiers off at the war, but it don’t make sense, you ask me. And you are, aren’t you?” Anton chuckled, “Wasn’t no monsters lurking behind every boulder during the Condrain war or the War of the plains. No, sir, it wasn’t. And that makes me think there’s something ill coming.”
Dean stopped listening as a stone wall came into view in the middle of a small pass, with the road leading to a small portcullis. A dozen soldiers stood guard, pikes and spears in hand as they inspected the small line of refugees waiting for permission to pass through.
“Halt,” One of the guards said as Dean’s party approached. The guard glanced over them, a bored expression on his face, as he said, “State your business.”
Dean replied, “I have an urgent message for the Captain from Lieutenant Caldwell.”
“What’s the message?” The guard demanded.
“Bandits attacked Haverton.” Dean said. A part of him hoped the quest would update after giving the message to the guard, since meeting the captain would take longer. By now, his friends were probably finished and waiting on him. He doubted Will or Ben had bothered to do the escort quest or had accepted it and left the refugees behind.
“Very well,” The guard said, “Private Benson, escort this man to the Captain.”
A young, freckled face soldier saluted, “If you’ll follow me, sir.”
Dean sighed as he gestured for the young man to lead the way. They passed under the gate and into a courtyard on the other side. Dean glanced around as the young man led him across it. The courtyard was only a few hundred feet across, with a gate on both ends and a series of shops running between them. The guard led him through the courtyard towards a large, fortified tower near the center of the courtyard, built into of the cliff, nearly four times as large as the other buildings.
The icons appeared on Dean’s mini-map as they walked, allowing Dean to identify a blacksmith, potion shop, leather works and weaponsmith. There were a few others he didn’t know, a sign with a quill and inkwell on it, another of a book, and the final was some kind of plant. The plant was probably an herbalist, Dean decided, but he wasn’t sure about the other two, since both icons had something to do with writing. Dean resolved to check them out later.
The tower was guarded by four more guards, who glanced curiously at the pair as they passed. Inside, the guard led him through a small room, a guard post by the look of it, and into a warren of rooms on the first floor to a set of narrow, steep stairs. The stairs led to the second floor, where the guard led him through another series of rooms before reaching another staircase.
It dawned on Dean that the tower was designed for combat. An intruder would have to fight their way through each room before reaching the stairs, where they’d have to ascend one at a time and with the defenders having a height advantage.
On the sixth floor, the guard knocked on a door, and waited to open the door until hearing a gruff, “Come in.”
A group of four men stood around a large table of a map with several flags on it. All of the men were older, with touches of gray in their hair, and hard lined faces. Two wore armor similar to the guardsmen, except theirs looked as though they were a better quality. The third wore thick rimmed glasses and a plain, but well-made tunic. The final made wore mage’s robes. Dean glanced at their names. Captain Hammond and Commander Aster were the soldiers. Agnus wore the glasses and Callum was the mage.
Dean glanced at the map, hoping his own would update, and sure enough, he received a couple notifications informing him that new places were marked on his map.
The Captain cleared his throat as Aster stepped around the table to stand between Dean and the map. Apparently, they didn’t like the idea that he was studying it.
“Who are you and what’re you doing here?” The Captain demanded as he walked around the table.
Dean hesitated, not wanting to take his eyes off the looming Aster, before turning to face the Captain. “Lieutenant Caldwell asked me to tell you that Haverton was attacked by bandits.” Dean reached into his inventory to grab the yellow sash. Aster growled and reached for his sword. Dean froze, not expecting the NPC to treat him as a potential enemy. Then again, if this weren’t a game, the man had no reason to think of him as anything else. Dean might need to rethink how he approached characters.
In response, Dean explained as he reached for the sash, “They were all wearing the same kind of yellow sash like this.” Dean held out the sash. Aster glanced down at it, grunted and took it from him before handing it to the Captain.
The Captain studied the sash for a second before nodding once, “I can’t say I’m surprised, but this couldn’t come at a worse time.” He gestured at Agnus, who fished out a few coins from his pouch and handed them to Dean. The Captain sighed, “Thank you for delivering the message. If Caldwell believes you trustworthy, then I will as well.”
A notification informed Dean that he’d completed the mission. Dean wondered if he could leave now that he was done. He was about to leave when Aster moved out of Dean’s way as the Captain walked over to a small cabinet in the corner, opened a drawer and pulled out a small basket. Dean saw that it was full of more flags. The Captain rummaged through them until he found a yellow flag and placed it on the map near Haverton.
Dean studied the map. It took him a second to orient himself, since it was upside down. The bottom portion of the map was made up of plains, ending at a desert to the south, while the northern half was a series of highlands and mountains. A large body of water ran across western edge of the map, and a mountain range along the eastern edge. Dean spotted Haverton near the Northwest corner, with a road leading to Fort Blackwood a few inches away. The road continued on until it reached a town called Torial and separated into a web of roads leading northeast to Doman’s Pass and south to a half dozen other cities.
Most of the flags on the map were either blue, red or yellow. Most of the blue and red units were concentrated in the south, but several blue flags were located at each of the northern cities and surrounding pockets of yellow flags near the middle of the map.
The Captain muttered, “The rebels wouldn’t strike if they didn’t have reinforcements nearby. Probably have a camp or two, as well, to coordinate the attack from.”
“Not many places they could hide,” Aster said. “Either the foothills or the bogs. At least, that’s what I’d do.”
Captain Hammond nodded absently, “Same. My guess is the bog, since it offers better protection and we can’t attack them in force without losing men to the sinkholes, but that’s no guarantee. We have to patrol both locations until we’re certain where the bandits are.”
“We don’t have the men, Captain.” Agnus said as he shifted through the papers he held. “At best, we have three squads we can spare and that would mean double shifts for those remaining.”
“We need to be certain.” Callum said, “Perhaps this man would be willing to scout the area for us?”
The Captain glanced up at Dean questioningly. A notification popped up.
Quest: The Bandit Camp
Reward: 40 XP
Description: Find the Bandit Camp and report the location to the Captain at Fort Blackwood
Dean shrugged without noticing as he said, “Sure. Why not?”
At least it wasn’t another tutorial quest. Dean hoped it meant he was close to finishing the tutorial. And, since both the bog and highlands were on the other side of the fort, it meant he would be moving forward with the game.
“It’s settled, then.” Hammond said. “I’d also appreciate it if you’d take a message to Torial about the bandits as well.”
A small pop-up window indicated that the quest had been updated. Dean let it fade away as the guard led him back out of the tower and into the courtyard.
He stopped by the stalls and sold all the bandit gear before walking over to the gate leading forward. The notification he was hoping for popped up.
End Tutorial?
I’m Ready!
Not Yet…
You’re about to exit the tutorial and start the main game. The Demon King: Fallen Realms is a massive multiplayer online game, and personal experiences may differ based on gameplay. OmniSense Interactive, inc has complied with all National and Local laws concerning content and consent, but cannot guarantee any interactions with other players.
*Game Speed will no longer slow down when utilizing Menus or Notifications.
Dean selected the ‘I’m Ready!’ button, and his vision turned white. A screen appeared containing the game’s logo, along with a note stating it was a ‘Full-Dive MMO Experience’ over top a video of a landscape floated by. After a few seconds, the video froze, and his vision faded back to white before slowly materializing again.
Dean heard a familiar voice, and turned towards it as a smile spread across his face.