The next morning, I flew out by myself. Michael was moaning that the brotherhood of the musketeers was falling apart, but I assured him this was a one-time thing, and I think they understood. When I disembarked in Windersmyr, I went with the rest of the players down the dirt road to Longbourn. I usually didn’t go there after landing since everyone else was, making the village look like a Disneyland for livers. I had stuff to take care of, though, and credits to burn. As usual, when I entered Windersmyr, my credits were converted to silver. I had a total of 175 silver. It didn’t seem like I could grow my stack of coins no matter what I did.
I wasn’t supposed to enter the dungeon until level 7, but if there had been a stat for impatience, I would’ve scored high on it. Instead of waiting another week to hit level 7, the plan was to keep myself alive with healing potions. I would buy as many as I could afford, and how many I could afford was partly decided by how much I would have to spend on a bow. It was hard to believe, but since starting the dungeon crawl in Windersmyr, I hadn’t had a decent bow drop yet. I had gotten some from the goblins the day before, but those bows were next to useless, and no merchant had even wanted to pay a single silver for them. One had advised me to use them as firewood instead.
Stone houses in one or two stories lined the dirt road, and behind them, on the side streets, smaller houses of wood with thatched roofs huddled among well-tended gardens and veggie patches. I passed the tavern – the Queen’s Castle – and continued down the street to Carlin’s Goods & Supplies. I stopped dead in my tracks, fumbling for my sword, eyes wide with disbelief. In front of me stood a huge orc with yellow fangs sticking up from its jaw, beady yellow eyes staring down at me.
“Wouldn’t touch that sword if I was you, jelly,” the orc rumbled.
It was only now I saw the level indicator over his head. It was blue, not yellow, indicating an enemy. This was another player, and he was level 27. Higher-level players weren’t restricted to only having Longbourn as an entry point in Windersmyr. They had about twenty different landing spots to choose from, so it was rare to see anything other than human races here.
“Sorry, just caught me by surprise.”
“This lovely face tends to do that,” the orc said, chuckling deep and growling.
He passed me, and I looked after him. I had seen some other high-level players in Longbourn, mostly elves, but they didn’t stand out like a big hulking orc. Most players, from what I’ve understood, decided to remain human after level 10, but orc was the most powerful melee class, and since that was the path I had started down, so just maybe. I still had six levels to go before I had to make that decision.
I entered Carlin’s, a light-deprived burrow that was immaculately clean. Carlin stood by the counter, smiling. The one thing that stood out with Carlin was the fact that he was a player, not an NPC. He didn’t do the dungeon diver thing for gear. He traded for it, bought and sold, and made a good profit from it. That was one way to play the game, I guessed, but it wasn’t mine.
“Brad! How nice to see you again. What have you brought for me today?”
“Today I’m not here to sell, but to buy.”
“Intriguing. What can I interest you in?”
“I need a bow. A good basic bow without enchantments. I can pay a maximum of 100 silver for it.”
Carlin laughed.
“You’re in the wrong merchant house then, boy. I don’t deal in damaged goods, and that is all you can expect for a price like that—a broken bow without a string. No seriously, what can I get you?”
Oh, this tiresome song and dance.
“What is the cheapest bow you have?”
“You’re such a bundle of tact and finesse, Brad. Go for the cheapest thing on the menu. Oh yes, just do that.”
He reached beneath the counter and pulled out a black wooden bow with inlays of steel at the grip. It looked a lot more expensive than 100 silver.
“How much?”
“250. Everything else would be to give it away.”
“Hrmm,” I said and took the bow up, pulled the string with a knowing twist to my mouth, like I actually knew what the hell I was doing.
I placed it back on the counter.
“Listen. A deal. I’ve been told a location from a friend and have a portal spell to take me there. The dungeon is full to the brim with high-quality loot. If you sell me this bow for 100 silver, I will go to you with my business when I return. And that’s a promise.”
“Well, well, well,” Carlin said, tucking his thumbs into his belt. “It all sounds good and dandy, except for the possibility that you get yourself killed and I lose the bow for a measly 100 silver.”
“Well, no risk, no reward.”
He cracked a grin and slapped his hand into mine.
“Got yourself a deal, my friend!”
A blue text popped up in my HUD:
Negotiation Skill Increased
The blue gauge meter got a healthy bump to the right, filling up halfway. I also unlocked a new achievement:
Achievement Unlocked: Barter with the Best of ’Em (For successfully negotiating with a player above your own level)
Reward: 100 silver
That 100 silver came in as a lifesaver. I spent them all on seven medium health potions and 30 iron arrows before leaving Carlin’s with a big grin on my face.
I walked out of Longbourn, past the pastures, before leaving the road, pulling out the scroll with the portal spell. I was crap at magic, but Sarah had said this was a beginner spell and that it was impossible to fail. I opened my map and activated the marker Sarah had placed. It started bobbing and turning. I unrolled the scroll and activated it. A swirling black hole grew out of the air to my left. It was oblong and just the right size to walk through.
I did.
There were no fanfares or me traveling like a singular mind through space. It was, if anything, rather underwhelming. I stepped through the portal, and it was like blinking my eyes—I was somewhere else.This place was something else entirely from the green rolling hills of Longbourn. It was rocky and freezing. Thin snow blew in the wind, danced and twirled, before being ripped away by stronger gusts. A massif of dark rock loomed ahead, a black triangular cave opening beneath. It looked far from inviting, but I needed to get in there fast, or I would freeze to death out here. I ran for the opening, my head on a swivel, looking left and right.
The wind outside became a distant thrum as soon as I entered the cave. The usual torches were on the walls, in sconces, and the air was a great deal warmer than outside. My mini-map showed a large circular space beneath the entrance, but there were no enemies marked. That didn’t mean they weren’t there. I had learned that enemies only showed up when you either saw or heard them—or if they saw or heard you, which was worse.
I sank down in a crouch and descended the slope to the pillared cave below. A burnt-out fire sat at the center of the cave, alongside a wooden chest that looked very much like a trap. If a level 7 ogre came wrestling out of the darkness, I could still bolt for the exit. I would’ve wasted the spell Sarah gave me, but at least I would live to mourn the loss.
Still in a crouch, with my Silver Sword of Freezing drawn, I advanced on the chest. Still no red dots on the mini-map. I cracked the chest open. A pair of worn-out leather boots—yay. I put them in my inventory. They would sell for at least 2 silver with a trader a little less stingy than Carlin. I made a sweep of the room, and it was empty.
Awesome.
I could do some training, then. I sheathed my sword and pulled the bow from my inventory. I hadn’t exactly figured out how this worked; I didn’t carry the bow on my back, but I could pull it out just as easily as I pulled the sword from the sheath by my hip.
Whatever.
I reached back, pulled one of the arrows from the quiver, and nocked it. I pulled the string, my right arm immediately starting to tremble.
Hey! An 8 in strength, remember!
For some reason, that strength didn’t do me much good with the bow. I saw a small dark shadow by the wall.
A rat.
I let the arrow go. It stalled before clattering to the stone floor.
Pathetic.
I walked over and plucked it from the floor, turned, and took aim at a stone pillar farther away. Some of it was me actually learning to hold the bow and pull the string with technique rather than just brute force, but I actually started to get the arrows to fly straight, and sometimes even hit the pillar I was aiming for. I saw the rat again. It was a small target, but I had a good feeling. I raised the bow, took aim, inhaled, and then slowly exhaled, focusing on the marker above the grip. I let the arrow fly. It whizzed through the air and hit the rat dead center.
Then there was that lovely gonging sound again, and the blue text popped up in my HUD:
Archery Skill Increased
The blue progress bar was already all the way to the right and restarted at the left. I looked at the number above it.
What the hell…
The numbers for my archery skill hadn’t switched from 1 to 2, as I had expected, but from 23 to 24. This was the first time I had ever used a bow, both in real life and here in Windersmyr. How could my skill already be at 24? Could it have anything to do with my background as a sniper? It was the only thing I could think of, but if someone wanted to give me levels for free, I wasn’t one to complain about it. If anything, this made this level 7 dungeon a bit more manageable for my puny level 4 character.
I spent maybe an hour down there, shooting rats, blistering my fingers drawing the string. I was trying to get my archery skill to level 25, which would open up the first tier of abilities. Getting there by shooting rats, I realized, would take days. I needed to get going and do some serious work.
I descended the next narrow path into another cave. It was an odd and almost serene place, light spilling in from a hole in the roof, shining on a knoll of grass with a withered old tree on top. It had only a few green leaves left. Insects and motes floated in the light. Footpaths went down on both sides of the knoll, carving it out, making it look almost like the prow of a ship.
By the small tree stood a burgundy chest with details in polished brass.
It looked oh so good, but at the same time, it looked oh so much like a trap. I had thought the same in the previous room, but this time I was certain. It was a trap.
And, sure enough. As I stood there, I saw a shadow streak across the cave ceiling by the knoll, and I heard voices from the stone hall behind. Human voices. Other players? No. Three red dots lit up.
Oh, crap. This could be biting off a bit too much.
I advanced slowly, keeping close to the wall. They were pacing back and forth as if on patrol. I saw only their heads and shoulders. Could I maybe sneak up to the chest and loot it without them noticing? Maybe there was an awesome sword in there that could even out the odds a bit. Worth trying. I snuck closer, their voices growing louder. One of them laughed, a sharp barking sound. I was close enough to see their tags now.
Level 6 – bandit
Level 5 – bandit
Level 5 – bandit
Could’ve been worse. No level 7s. But still, there were three of them. I was at the chest, reaching for the lid, when something stirred beside me.
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I froze.
A new red dot popped up on the mini-map, right next to me.
Slowly, I turned my head.
The man was big and burly, clad in a leather harness lined with fur. His black beard was braided and adorned with something that looked like human teeth. He was sleeping on a blanket, one arm tucked under his head.
Bandit Chief – Level 8
I just sat there, staring at him, not daring to move either forward or backward. My mind raced as I weighed my options. It was really just one thing I could do. With my heart thudding loud enough to wake the bandit chief, I pulled my steel dagger.
The bandit chief snorted in his sleep and frantically began rubbing the tip of his nose.
I dove down upon him, jabbing my dagger into his throat while clamping my other hand over his mouth. He tensed up and went:
“Blergh!”
Hot blood flowed over my hand. It felt too real—much too real—but despite that, I turned the dagger in the wound to really open the flow. The bandit chief kicked once, and then his red dot disappeared from the map. A string of achievements popped up on the HUD, bumping each other up and out of sight.
Silent Assassin (for scoring the first sneak kill)
The Blade Itself (for scoring a lethal hit with a knife)
The Bigger They Are (for killing a target of higher level)
The skills Sneaking and One-Handed also got major bumps. Silver and XP rained down upon me, and three loot boxes for the achievements appeared in my inventory. I had no time to rejoice—my gaze was firmly set upon the bandits below. If one of them just turned their head my way, I would be in a world of shit. They didn’t.
I removed my hand from the bandit chief’s mouth and wiped the blade of the dagger on his trousers. Then I reached for the lock of the chest. It wasn’t the kind that was opened with a key, but rather the kind that snapped open.
It snapped open with a sharp clack!
“What?” one of the bandits said, and their red markers stopped dead.
Oh, shit.
Out of the chest, a grand sword rose, and I grabbed it without looking because over the lid of the chest I saw them coming—all three of them. I ran back through the hall as fast as I could, hearing them holler and scream behind me. I ran right through the other room as well and tumbled out into the snow.
Good thing to know: if you exit a cave, the mobs inside will never follow you out. They’ll be in there, going: Where the hell did he go? Is this magic? before returning to their positions. After a couple of minutes, they forget you were ever in there.I took a look at my new sword.
It wasn’t just any generic sword. It had a name—Regalus—and that ought to mean it was a good one. I looked at its stats and description.
Regalus: 20% extra physical damage against the undead.20% burn damage against the undead.15% drainage.
Drainage? I looked it up in the FAQ.
Drainage: Leaches the lifeblood of its enemies.
So, if I hit a baddie with the sword, I would not only clobber it with physical and burn damage but also leach their health? Sounded good to me. I popped the three loot boxes I got for my achievements, getting a pile of silver, another steel dagger, and some steel arrows as well. Nothing earth-shaking, but nice nonetheless. The steel arrows had an extra 13 damage compared to my iron ones.I went back into the dungeon.
As expected, the bandits had retreated to their original positions, talking and laughing.Once again, I snuck closer.
The footpaths at the knoll created choke points I could use.I snuck even closer, keeping to the shadows by the wall until I was at the choke point.
I pulled out the bow and nocked a steel arrow. I heard from the bandits’ voices that they were heading back my way. I drew the string to my cheek, staring into the darkness. I saw a glint of one of them, his head turned to his friend, talking away. I let the arrow fly. It flew straight and punched right through the talker’s throat.
I hadn’t time to pay attention to the achievements and level-ups that resulted from the hit. Quickly, I whipped out another arrow and put it to the string, trying to take advantage of the holler and confusion below.
No time. The two remaining bandits came darting up the footpath. I let the arrow go. It bounced off the foremost bandit’s metal helmet.
Fuck.
I drew my sword and charged at them, not wanting them to reach level ground. I swung at the first one, a mighty overhead swing that he parried, but not with ease. He needed to hold the sword with both hands. I kicked him in the gut. With a grunt, he collapsed back into his friend. I pounced on them, running my sword through the top one, hoping to nail the one below in the same strike.
No luck.
The remaining bandit had gotten his sword arm free. He slashed at me and cut a long gash in my thigh. I staggered back, grunting. The bandit heaved his dead friend aside and got to his feet, grinning with blood on his face, tossing his sword from hand to hand.
Once again, mental vertigo struck me—that this was actually happening. That I was fighting a grinning bandit in a cave inside a fantasy world.
“A lowly level 5? In myyyy dungeon? You’ll regret the day you were born, son!”
Level 5? I had gained another level. That must’ve happened when I killed the bandit chief. I drank a healing potion straight from the inventory, and the burning pain in my leg vanished. I got my mobility back and danced on the spot like a boxer to taunt the remaining bandit. He frowned.
“Now, how did you do that, son? Dabbling with magic, are we? Cheating, that is!” he roared and came at me with an overhead swing of his own. The force of it would’ve shattered the bones in my forearms; instead, I rolled to the side, making him hit stone. I swiped towards him, hitting his leg but not cutting through. A red symbol popped up above his head, showing white fangs—the leaching effect. The bandit stumbled to the wall, dragging his leg with him. Didn’t I feel stronger all of a sudden? Invigorated, even? The bandit’s face was as gray as ash, and he only managed to give me a sideways glance when I took his head off.
Brutal and gory.
I preferred slaying goblins and trolls, but as usual in life, you don’t get to choose your enemies.
I looted the corpses of the bandits, finding nothing better than what I already had equipped, but the bandit chief carried a hefty 72 silver and a strange-looking marble. It was a translucent pink hue, and when I put it close to my eye, it looked like there was a swirl inside it, like a miniature galaxy rotating within. I examined the marble, and it was simply named:
Minor Orb of Soul Snare (Empty)
Didn’t make me any wiser, so I dumped it in my inventory and continued down to the next room, which contained two ordinary loot boxes. One gave a chainmail, and the other a pair of sleek boots that, by their description, were:
Common Boots of Stamina: Grants the wearer +5% stamina.
I put them on immediately, dumping my black boots into the inventory. The chainmail was an upgrade to my leather harness and bumped my defense up by a handful of points. I checked my level progress. My bout with the bandits had me on the verge of hitting level 6. Fighting higher-level mobs really did speed up the leveling progress. Before long, I would hit the recommended level 7 for the dungeon.
While going deeper into the dungeon, I thought about the sword I got from the chest. Was that the awesome loot Sarah had been talking about? The sword was nice, I’m not saying anything else, but it was nothing like the level-buster I was hoping for. Her words echoed in my head:
Whatever you do, don’t let the Death Knight get too close to you.
I didn’t plan to let anything with "death" in its name come close to me—certainly not something that was also a knight. I didn’t look forward to meeting this knight of the dead, but if there were awesome loot in the dungeon—or at least more awesome than the sword I already got—he was the one guarding it.
The footpath descended sharply, and between two protruding rocks, I saw something that looked like a circular, raised altar. In front of the altar was a stone sarcophagus, flanked by winged demons made of stone. I walked a little closer, crouching, scanning for enemies. Suddenly the footpath disappeared, and there was a ten-foot drop to the floor below.
Ah, I got it. When I jumped down from here, the friggin’ Death Knight throws the lid of his sarcophagus, and I can’t get back up, performing my little escape routine. In the confined space below, the Death Knight would make hamburger meat out of me.
Behind the altar was a low bridge spanning a stream of slow-running water. I couldn’t see where it led, but my only chance was to build distance between me and the Death Knight and use my level 12 skill in archery to take him down. I could do that by running up that stream, or, if I managed, right across the altar and over the bridge.
Decisions, decisions. Wouldn’t get any wiser sitting here, perched like a frightened bird. I assigned my three new Character Points and put them into Strength, bumping that stat up to 12.
Then I jumped down.
I hit the ground and immediately heard the groaning rumble of stone shifting position. I snapped my gaze up and saw a skeletal hand sliding the lid of the sarcophagus to the side.
No surprise there, but that didn’t keep my heart from hammering with fear.
I bolted past the resting place of the Death Knight and splashed into the stream. The stream flowed out through the mountain via a narrow triangular opening that looked big enough for a person to get through.
I pulled a torch from my inventory. It popped out in my hand, lit and ready. I splashed on as fast as my feet could carry me into the darkness of the water tunnel. When my stamina-enhanced boots couldn’t carry me any longer, I tossed the torch in the water, snuffing it out.
I spun around, pulling my bow and nocking a steel arrow.
At the other end of the passage, I saw the tall and gangly silhouette of the Death Knight, blue light shining through his body, a tall crown on his head.
I pulled the string and immediately let the arrow go.
It clattered against the rock wall and ended up in the stream.
The Death Knight gave a strange murmur, and then the narrow passage lit up in an amber glow. A massive ball of fire came hurtling my way.
I dove headfirst into the water. Above me, the world exploded in orange, the sound of the explosion a muted burble beneath the water.
I came back up, gasping for air, whipping my head to get the water out of my face.
The Death Knight was closer now, much closer.
I stroked water from my face and nocked another arrow. If only I’d had one of those exploding arrows that Michael had.
The tag above the Death Knight’s head read:
Ancient Death Knight – Level 10
I fired again. It would’ve been a hit, but the arrow flew right through his skeletal body. I nocked another arrow, pulled the string, and let it go. It hit the Death Knight straight in the chest, sending a wave pattern of blue light upon impact.
The knight sighed and went down on one knee, head bent, the crown falling off into the stream.
I already had the next arrow on the string and hit his downturned head. It hit with a loud smack but didn’t keep him from rising again and continuing his slow walk toward me.
I saw now that his jaw was unhinged. Black smoke billowed out of his freakishly oversized mouth.
Whatever you do, don’t let the Death Knight get too close to you.
I fired another arrow, and it struck the knight in the mouth, snapping his head backward. His knees buckled. He sagged and fell to the ground as a pile of bones.
“Whoo-hooo!” I screamed, pumping my bow above my head, the echo of my voice bouncing against the stone.
It was like being in Las Vegas—the achievements and level-ups just poured in, gonging and pinging, feeding my ego and sense of achievement.
I was going to go through all that later, but now—my well-deserved loot. I looted the pile of bones of the Death Knight and found 129 silver, 3x enchanted bone meal, and an enchanted Crown of Necrosis. The bone meal seemed to be an alchemic ingredient, and the crown something that could be used by a mage class called Necromancers. That word carried a faint ring of recognition. It had something to do with raising the dead. Wearing the crown would grant me seven extra seconds for reanimated minions. I wasn’t planning to dabble with the dead, but I dumped the crown in the inventory for now. Then, I ran back into the altar space, seeing two large burgundy chests with platinum details waiting for me.
I opened the first chest, and a purple light swirled as a pair of fur-lined gloves reinforced by steel floated up from the chest. They had a cold blue shine to them.
Epic Gloves of Breaking
Gives 15% extra melee damage from one-handed and two-handed attacks.
Not bad. Not bad at all. Epic stuff. Better than what I had at the moment, and the gloves were the perfect fit for my intended class, but still not the level-buster I was hoping for. I equipped them, and my attack score rose more than a hundred points to a total of 1721, and the defense increased to 1133. The 15% extra damage would stack on top of the 15% I got from the Berserker ability, giving me a total of 30% extra damage.
I scurried over to the other chest and popped it open, my breath hitching as the swirl of light from the chest was a golden hue, signaling a legendary item.
Now we’re talking. Finally!
In the yellow light, a scroll of paper emerged. Frowning, I grabbed it.
Fires of Motar
Creates a wall of fire around the caster, instantly killing all enemies lower in level than the caster, seriously injuring enemies of higher level, and also causing a 5-second stun effect. Area of effect: 30 feet.
No, no, no.
I opened the information tab and rushed my gaze down the block of text, stopping at: Requires destruction magic 70. I balled my hands into fists and stared up at the stone ceiling. A legendary item, but not one that I could use—ever. Just my luck.
I used the portal spell and was soon back in the pleasant warmth of Longbourn, deflated and pissed off. While walking towards Carlin’s, I chewed down my disappointment and started thinking instead. When I entered Carlin’s shop, I did so with a smile. Carlin smiled back at me.
“Good looting, I assume?”
“Kinda,” I said. “See if there’s anything in there that might interest you.”
One could partition a part of the inventory to show others, and I pulled in all the stuff I had gathered during the day, including my rare sword, the epic gloves, and the legendary scroll. While Carlin looked through my stuff, I pretended to look through his inventory, while I actually studied his face. His expression when he saw the scroll wouldn’t garner him much luck at a poker table—his neck straightened slightly, cheeks sucked in. I turned my attention to his inventory, adding the numbers together. Yeah, this could work. I turned my attention back to Carlin.
“So, whaddoyasay? What can you give me for all of it?”
Carlin sighed and shrugged. Christ, he was a terrible actor.
“Well, most of it is junk. Stuff that I can use to pad offers with, but that scroll is a bit more interesting… Would you take 2000?”
“For all of it,” I said, firing off a naïve smile.
“Yeah, since you’ve been a good sport, holding up your end of the deal, coming to me first.”
“I like it,” I said.
Carlin smiled even wider, extending his hand for the hand-slap of agreement. He didn’t get it. His smile waned.
“2000 and you throw in that sword in the third square of your inventory.”
Carlin sputtered air through his nose with disgust.
“Laridian’s Edge for a scroll? A legendary sword, for a scroll?”
“It’s not a scroll. It’s a legendary spell and a very powerful one to boot.”
“No way. Nooo way. Take your junk and get out of here.”
I shrugged.
“Fair enough. I promised to come to you first, and I did. Now I’ll try my luck with Gerson.”
“Okay, okay,” Carlin said, holding up his hands. “3000. That’s as far as I can go.”
“Too bad. I can go as far as to Gerson, at least.”
“4000, and now this is starting to get ridiculous.”
“Ha ha, yeah. Me and Gerson will have a laugh,” I said, tucking the scroll back into my inventory and turning for the door.
“Ah, aha, okay. You’re playing that game, are you? Okay, I can play. I can play.”
I turned back to him, one eyebrow raised.
“Yes?”
“A legendary item for a legendary item, I can understand you see logic in that, but scrolls don’t fetch the same price as cold hard steel. Look around! Far more players wield weapons than spells. I can’t do a 1-to-1 trade. No one will. And you can take that to Gerson if you like.”
“Yeah, maybe I will, but I think my first stop will be at the local mage’s guild. I bet I can sell this one for top silver there. See ya.”
“Stop!” Carlin shouted with something akin to despair, slamming his palms down on the counter. “You get the sword, okay. But I get the scroll and your Regalus and your epic gloves. That is a fair trade.”
Something told me it at least was as fair a deal as I would ever get from Carlin, but I decided to push it a bit further.
“I keep the gloves. The rest you can have.”
“Then I want my bow back.”
“Sure.”
We shook on that—my negotiation skills making a massive jump—and I got on the transport back to Breaker City with my level-buster, Laridian’s Edge, a legendary sword of burning, a pair of epic enchanted gloves, and a strange pink marble in my inventory.
Awesome.