Everything seemed smaller when Peacock opened his eyes. The nest, which started out as a mossy expanse five times his length across, appeared to have shrunk to half its size. Of course, the closer proximity of the stalactites told him the nest hadn’t shrunk, but he had grown. A rumble from his midsection preceded a sharp pang. He was starving.
“Makes you wonder why there’s a hunger mechanic, huh?”
Peacock whipped his head toward the speaker. Arianrhod pranced in place at the front of the nest. She had grown as well. She looked longer, leaner, and her voice was deeper than he remembered.
“Arianrhod?” Peacock frowned. he barely recognized his own, less squeaky, voice.
“Got it in one! Guess what, guess what?”
Apparently molting gave her extra energy. Peacock wasn’t sure how that was possible. “What?”
“Look at your UI!”
“Okay….” He pulled up the now familiar screen.
LEVEL: 5 XP: 0 (2500)
HEALTH: 108 ESSENCE: 108
AGILITY: 18 MANA: 23
STRENGTH: 28 FOCUS: 23
Besides the flexing arm ability tab he’d unlocked when he hit level cap, which now had an exclamation point over the top, the armor tab had gone from washed-out grey to a robust gold. His stats hadn’t changed over what he’d gained from levelling, which was disappointing, but the thought of new unlocks lifted his mood immediately.
The armor looked too good to pass up, so he flipped there first. A loose silhouette of the front of a dragon with its wings outstretched sat behind a collection of blank squares. Even if he couldn’t remember the details of them, Peacock had played enough games to know what he was looking at. An equipment screen.
He focused over the square on the silhouette’s head. Sure enough, a tooltip popped up, naming it as the head slot. Peacock imagined a massive dragon in battle armor. Now that was an imposing sight. Of course, if dragons could wear armor, that probably meant….
“We can breathe fire now. Isn’t that awesome?”
Arianrhod’s exclamation cut through his pondering. “Huh?”
“Your new skill!” She paused. “Oh, you haven’t looked yet, have you? Sorry.”
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Taking heart in the repentant sound of her voice for spoiling the surprise, Peacock sighed and flipped over to his ability screen.
Breath Weapon (Magic/Fire) - Lv. 1
Fire element damage per second in a six-foot cone from the front. Slowly drains essence. Has a fifty percent chance to apply one stack of burn status for six seconds. Can stack ten times.
“Hmm. Vague, but doesn’t sound bad.” Peacock closed the UI, coming face-to-face with a grinning, wiggling Arianrhod.
“That’s just the start. Did you look at the equipment tab?”
Peacock nodded.
“Now we can wear armor and trinkets, which means crafting!”
Ah. That answered his other question. A fantasy game without crafting was practically unheard of, but he’d never played a game where he was a dragon, either. “So, dragons can craft?”
“Sure can!” Arianrhod bounced up and down.
“I take it you’re a crafter.”
“Sure am! Want to help me gather ore? We can go back to the tunnel Oncian was digging yesterday. He found some copper in there.”
“Oh… uh….” Peacock felt like he was more the adventuring type and was hoping for a chance at attacking mobs over more digging. It was hard saying no to Arianrhod’s expectant eyes, though.
Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, Viseral’s appearance from a side tunnel cut their conversation short. He, too, had grown larger and leaner, in the same proportions as Arianrhod. That meant they all grew at the same rate. At least for now.
Viseral bared his teeth at Peacock. “What’s up, asshat?”
Peacock’s excitement dropped like a stone, replaced with a bitter hatred that was growing faster than his levels. He snarled back. “Alas, molting didn’t unlock a better personality for you, Viseral.”
Arianrhod giggled as Viseral’s face scrunched up. “Alas?”
“That’s enough, you two.” Cavua stepped over Viseral and settled onto her haunches in front of the nest. Oncian followed soon after. Peacock had become familiar with their mannerisms, and what the two adults were doing told them it was time for more lessons.
“Now that you’re all juveniles, we thought it best to work on mob combat today.”
Cavua eyed Viseral. “Which will hopefully sate some of our aggression.”
Viseral rolled his eyes and shifted away from the adult pair.
“But first, breakfast, and any questions you may have.” Oncian made a tossing motion with his hand. Three large, steak-shaped and rich smelling meat chunks plopped down in the nest. All three juveniles snatched the food and tore it apart.
Peacock gulped down half of it before glancing back up at Oncian. Oncian hadn’t talked directly to him, but he was plenty aware he was the only one present that had questions. Lots of them. “Why are we so hungry?” was the first one to slip out before he returned to devouring his breakfast.
“Ah, yes.” Oncian shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. If we weren’t digital, growing so much so quick, would surely take a huge amount of energy, but here? Maybe it’s just to make things feel a bit more real. You’ll find there are lots of things like that.”
Hmm. Not the answer he was expecting, but it made some sense, anyway. That was the whole point of immersive VR, after all.
“Okay. So why do all of us,” Peacock waved toward Arianrhod and Viseral, “still look like color-swaps while you two look so different?”
Cavua chuckled. “Because you haven’t done anything to change your appearance yet. Now that you can fight, craft, equip things, and affect the world, that will change. I doubt you three will look at all similar by the time you become adolescents. Even your color can change.” Cavua winked at Peacock. “Then you might have to change your name.”
Every answer only created more questions. Peacock never got a chance to ask more, as deep crimson blood splattered across the cave floor.