I grabbed both of their robes and some scrolls of destruction magic. Seemed like powerful stuff, even if they were novice level spells. Arcane Fire – creating a fire tornado that causes massive fire damage to enemies hit by it. Helter Skelter – generates a powerful lightning strike that arches between enemies if close enough together. Another scroll was called The Light of the Holy Eye and was a healing scroll. Gives caster 200 % health for 30 seconds. Regenerates 25 health points per second for 2 minutes.
Just the kind of thing one wanted in a prolonged fight. Guess he kicked himself for not using it when I decided to crash their little mages party Oh well, down into my little sack it went.
One of the mages had a potion I hadn’t seen before. Become Etheral. Apparently, it would give me the ability to pop right through walls and floors of manmade structures. Could come in handy. The last scroll I found was a scroll of basic Beast Mastery. It wasn’t a scroll for casting but a scroll for learning the spell itself. It would do little good for a destruction mage out on a lethal free for all, so I guess he just never bothered with it. It was small fry in the world of mages, I guess since even I could cast it. It was dependant on my base Intelligence, and it was – whatever you think – high enough to crunch the spell, so I did.
A theatrical golden light swirled, and the muted thumping sound was heard before a prompt popped up before me.
New skill learned: Beast Mastery
Gives the ability to basic communication with animals.
Interesting. How far could one push that ability then? I looked the skill over, and it worked a bit different from other skills. It didn’t have a skill tree or designated abilities. But rather, the deeper the bond I formed with the animal companion, the more advanced commands I could give it. What I could achieve as of now was basic communication with animals of a certain intelligence.
That was vague. What was meant by basic communication? And what was meant with a certain intelligence? I got it, I couldn’t talk quantum physics with a slug, but would I be able to give instructions to a cat, having it peak around corners for me? I needed to check that up when I got the time. There was a lot I needed to check up. I had yet to master any of my Warpblade abilities. I had a decent mana pool, enough to do my strategy of quickly close the distance to enemies and quickly get out of a hot zone, but I hadn’t yet grasped how to activate those abilities. And according to Sarah, I wouldn’t for quite some time. To fully master abilities that dealt with teleportation and phasing took time and practice. It wasn’t like flipping a switch. If I had had that information when I did my choice of classes, it wouldn’t had swayed my decision, but I had hoped of having those abilities ready to use during the clash. But, on the other hand, if it had been easy, I would’ve had to face enemies in the clash that teleported and phased away as well. I preferred not to.
I walked for maybe another hour, seeing nothing of interest, only this black and white world of dark rock and grainy snow. At least I wasn’t cold. My stamina bar was on a downward trajectory and was now below 75 % percent. When I stopped for a break, it started climbing, but rising slowly.
There was this in-game-stamina gauge but there was also the old-fashioned tiredness that wouldn’t be remedied by a potion or a spell, I needed food and rest, so I sat down and took it.
I cleared a spot with my boot for the firewood and lit it on fire with my basic fire caster skill. Black smoke rose to the sky in a slanted angle. Anyone in a ten-mile radius would see it. And I, would see them a quarter mile when they were coming. My fire as an open invitation to a fair fight where no one would get the jump on the other.
While I roasted some more meat, and threaded some of the leeks on the arrow as well it didn’t look like no one was accepting the invitation.
Soon the meat was done and I gnawed on it with my front teeth, fat running down my chin.
A black shadow came swerving in from the right. I shot a glance over my shoulder. A big black bird landed further away on the snow. It looked at me, tilting its head slightly.
I’m not good at birds, but this was either a crow or a raven. A raven I thought, since it looked too big to be a crow.
It clapped its beaker, blinking, his eyes for a briefly fogged over by a grey membrane. Hadn’t I heard that birds were actually pretty smart? That there were parrots out there that could count and do all kinds of impressive shit?
I tore of a piece of meat with my teeth, spat it out in the palm of my hand and looked at the bird.
“You hungry, buddy?”
I lowered my palm to the snow, showing it to the bird. It did that tilt of the head thing again, and the blinking, and didn’t move at all.
“All right. Shouldn’t be too trusting. I can respect that. To many weirdos out there.”
I tossed the meat to the bird. It jumped back, wings doing a non-committal flap. The meat bounced on the frozen crust of snow. The bird darted for it, clapping its beak over it before doing that backwards flap again. When it had wolfed down the first piece, it looked at me with its neck stretched. Those little black eyes had a keen shine to them.
“Good, eyh? First time you tasted cooked food? Want more of that?”
The bird did and I chucked another morsel on the snow, only half the distance this time.
The bird scuttled over, head low, its eyes never leaving mine – and snapped up the piece of meat before bouncing back again.
“Mmm, taaasty, yes? You want to come work for me? Yes? Be my eyes in the sky, yes?”
The bird didn’t answer. I tossed out three morsels, this time close enough for me to grab the bird by its neck if it went for them. Hesitantly it jumped forward, giving me that tilt of the head, as if trying to figure out what I was trying to do. Yes, there was at least a basic form of intelligence in this bird.
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“It’s yours, buddy. All it takes is a little trust. I ain’t going to hurt you.”
It darted forward, collecting the three pieces of meat with impressive speed and then bounced back. It dropped them down in the snow and started eating. I did the same, intentionally ignoring the bird. I could see in my peripheral vision that it was done eating. It stretched not only its head, but its whole body, flapping its wings once before settling down. I ignored it, munching away. The bird hopped closer tilting its head. I ignored it. When it was back at the spot where it had snapped up the last three morsels, I slowly turned my head and looked at it. It shrugged back, but it stayed in place.
I tore of another morsel, placed it in my hand and gently lowered it to the bird. It plucked it from my palm, made half a scuttle back before turning its head up, wolfing the meat down.
New Achievement unlocked: Bird Whisperer. For tying a basic bond with an animal from the bird family.
Reward: 250 XP
The XP was pitiful, but I guess it marked how far I’ve advanced since my first day in Windersmyr, when I was chasing 25 XP kills with the musketeers.
When I broke camp to continue, the bird hopped after me in the snow, before taking air, its wings whipping the air with a sound almost sounding like muted explosions.
“So long, partner,” I said, giving the bird a two-finger salute as it curved towards the woods.
To my surprise it swung back, making a wide circle above my head. It seemed intent to stay with me. Sometimes it flew into the woods, and was gone for a while, but then it was back, circling above me, and sometimes it landed in the snow ahead of me, making silly sidestep jumps as if to encourage me. I didn’t know of this was an effect of the basic bond or if the bird was still hungry, but either way, I didn’t mind having it around.
Rick Solomon: Buddyyyy! They seem to have turned on your in-game-chat. Looking good out there!”
Brad Richards: Hey, Rickster! Good hearing from you. What’ve you and the guys been up to?”
Rick Solmon: Hey, cut the crap. We’ve been doing the daily grind, but you’re on the friggin tv! You’re the one that’s going to do the talking.”
Brad Richards: Are the others there as well?
Morton Lofeldt: Porthos reporting!
Michael Lee: Aramis reporting!
Brad Richards: Hey, guys. Great hearing from you all. Is a bit lonely out here. Haven’t seen a human soul for hours.
Rick Solomon: And those you find, you kill. But, yeah, the crowd is starting to get restless. You spoiled them with action this far. That fight with the mages was really cool.
Brad Richards: Crowd?
Rick Solomon: We’re at Anchors. Never seen so much people here this early. Rob and Dean is here as well. Dean tells me that kill when you bumped the other guy out of the battle area was pure cheating!
I chuckled.
Brad Richards: Tell him its wrestling rules. When you’re off the mat, you’re out.
Rick Solomon: Will do, and Brad? Cant tell you anything of importance, they will real time censor it and give the offender a lengthy ban, but stay away from Tristan.”
Brad Richards: Stay away as in stay awaaay. Or stay away, that guy is really good, watch out?
Rick Solomon: Can’t tell you more than that. Need to sign off. We only get a couple of minutes. Parting words, mate. KICK THEIR ASSES!
And then he was gone. I trudged on. The bird landed on my shoulder. My eyes went wide, but I didn’t dare turning my head looking at it, afraid to scare it away. It was one of those moments, like you had to be there, but my heart swelled a little with the birds sudden show of trust.
“Yeah, you’re my good buddy now, aren’t you? Need to get a name for you? Melvin maybe?”
The bird gave me a peck at the temple.
Oh, what the…?
“No? Bob, then?”
Another peck. Really? Did the bird actually say it disapproved?
“Shadow?”
A moment’s hesitation, and then the peck. Okay, this had to be part of the basic bond. This couldn’t be normal animal behaviour, could it?
“Cloak?”
The bird clapped its beak once.
“Cloak, yes?”
The bird clapped its beak again.
“Okay, it’s settled then. Welcome to the team, Cloak.”
Cloak clapped his beak twice.
Another hour. Cloak was circling the sky. Anchors had to be completely deserted by now. Who would want to watch a guy just trudge through snow for hours? I had left the woods behind and started to angle to my right, to what I perceived to be toward the centre of the battle area. Sergeant Watts had said that the battle area was constructed of concentric circles; that meant that for every ring they closed, we, the contestants, were herded closer to each other. If I couldn’t do anything else in this situation, I could at least make sure I wouldn’t need to make a mad dash for the next battle area, putting myself at risk.
The sun was about to set. There had been a single announcement during the day, Contestant number 35 had been killed. But that was it.
Bong…
That female voice again, sounding like a goddess, her voice filling the barren lands around me.
Greetings contestants. In the dawn of time, when the world was created the lightning of creation struck the Iron Mountains of Warnheim, creating not only Jotan – the god of war – but also the elusive vein of lunar ore that has been mined there since the first men. These mythical and legendry relics of the Ancients are revered with almost religious fervour in the north and are handed from the hands of kings to princes. I’m happy to inform you that one such relic has now been discovered close to the old ruin, now marked on your maps. That is all, thank you.
Really? It wasn’t only the people at Anchors that had gotten restless. The Game Command had too. And what better way to stir the pot than offering game-breakingly OP gear to low level players involved in a death match?
Carnage would ensue.
I brought down my map. There was a yellow dot blinking some distance to the south east. My mission tab was blinking a soft, translucent blue. I pulled it down. It contained a mini map of the abandoned fortress and its surroundings. To the right was an expandable window showing a sword.
I clicked it open, and the sword floated out, gently revolving around its own axis in a swirl of red mist.
Orak’s Wrath (Mythical) – Level 32
Mythical sword of draining, once belonging to the first king of Warnheim – Orak Wintersbane. This sword of lunar steel, forged in the fires of Mortar, leeches the life blood of its enemies as it sets them on fire while having the chance of causing momentarily confusion making the target attack its allies.
Oh my. I wanted it. I wanted it so bad.
Three active effects? The chance to cause confusion was set at 20 %, the drainage effect was 2,5 % a second. The attack value of the sword was a mind boggling 8270. I didn’t understand how it could be that high, but guessed it had something to do with the fact that the sword had a level of its own. I had never seen that before. If this sword levelled all the way to 100, as everything else seemed to… the power level of that weapon, it was something… else. It was proper endgame loot.
I glanced at the map. I guess the Game Control had chosen a location that would give us all the same starting distance to the dungeon. The one getting there first and laid their hands on the sword would have to fight themselves out of the dungeon while other contestants were pouring in. The fortress would turn into a goddamn slaughterhouse. If I wanted to be the first in there, I needed to leg it, now, and not look back. Just full-on force forward. But did I want to be the first one in? I didn’t think I did? I thought I had a shot at it. My speed wasn’t much to talk about, but my endurance and fortitude was. It wouldn’t be a mad dash for the cave, it would, not quite literarily be a Marathon, but not far from it.
But to voluntarily go down that vortex of violence and killing? I have no problem with violence and killing when it’s me distributing it.
I could picture it, clusters of guys fighting, four or five at the time, ripping and clawing, stabbing, and slashing.
No, that was too much of a dice roll and only stupid people relied on luck.
The outline of a plan started to form, and this one too, included a hefty amount of running. I downed a stamin potion, bumping my stamina bar up to 87, and started running.