Hugh was distinctly uncomfortable with the Dark Monk class and was relieved both at having the opportunity to reroll to the Monk class, but also with the generous offer of funding class-specific gear. He was, in short, a happy camper. Crisis averted and a possible class reroll in the future for Clyde. Unlike Hugh, all he saw in the Dark Monk class was an endless sea of possibilities.
On the other hand, it was also a more than likely shitstorm in the making. The dark entities they’d focused on so far were all terrifying, with no exceptions. At the minimum, he owed it to his party members to scour the lists of evil meanies to contract with for the least possibly inimical.
Returning to the top of the list, beginning again with entities whose name began with A, he noted Azathoth. Another Lovecraftian nightmare, he realized after a less-hurried perusal of the elder god’s description, this unholy demon was not a match for him.
“…ancient legends of Ultimate Chaos, at whose center sprawls the blind idiot god Azathoth, Lord of All Things, encircled by his flopping horde of mindless and amorphous dancers, and lulled by the thin monotonous piping of a demoniac flute held in nameless paws.”
HPL, "The Haunter of the Dark"
He needed to stretch out from these friggin’ nightmare gods to something a little less end-of-the-worldish.
Bubak The Bubak is a creature of old Czech folklore. They describe it as a monster with the vague appearance of a scarecrow though one with the body of a skeleton. It is known to cry out in the manner of an infant, luring its victims into their deaths.
Useless, and not worth the effort of delving further into its other characteristics.
Bake-kujira Translated, loosely it meant Ghostly Whale, the Bake-kujira is a massive, ethereal whale skeleton accompanied by a host of other-worldly birds and fish. They appear on rainy nights near coastal Japanese whaling villages scaring the villagers and delivering a powerful curse to any who spot it.
These were far less inimical but useless creatures that would scare a child but were hardly a threat to a thinking adult. There had to be a middle-ground if he could just find it. He noted a menu item for a random selection, focused, and selected it.
Ardat Lili A Sumerian night demon taking the form of a succubus, or a young female spirit associated with children and pregnant women, also a storm demon. One in the demon-triad formed by the male Lilu, the female Lilitu, and the handmaid Ardat Lili.
Ardat Lili is a dangerous storm spirit originating in ancient Sumeria, a vampiric succubus who visits men at night. She inspires them to masturbate as she conceives other demons from men’s nocturnal emissions. She is very ancient: surviving information is limited and unclear. She may be an ancient incarnation of Lilith, Lilith’s handmaiden, or a closely related spirit.
Titillating, for sure, but not so useful for his purposes. He didn’t fancy a succubus whose only purpose was to collect his semen after a thoroughly healthy session of self-pleasuring. Nope. That was for his eyes only. Weren’t succubi supposed to pleasure men for whatever they got out of it? Waxing his own wood for the profit of a succubus was not on any list of fetishistic pleasures he had ever conceived.
One more time in the breach he focused on a random result.
Empusa A shapeshifting female originating in Greek mythology. She is said to possess a single leg of copper. She was in the command of Hecate, a Greek goddess. The empousai has been described as a phantom or specter, similar to the lamia and mormolykeia, and want to seduce and feed on young men.
Hecate. That name was familiar and worth a search and deeper examination. Something nagged at him hearing the name. Focusing, he selected the list of entities with names beginning with H and scrolled down until he landed on Hecate.
Hecate A goddess in three parts, a trinity of divinity. This lovely goddess has her origins obscured in antiquity. While the main claim is for her origins in the Greek pantheon, others would claim her to have originated in Egypt as Heqet, the goddess of birth and fertility. Both Heqet and her possible Greek form were and are associated with magic, with ‘heka’ meaning magic in Egyptian. Hecate has been worshipped as a powerful goddess among the Carians of Anatolia into more recent times at the cult site of Lagina.
She is known as a goddess of boundaries, of the underworld, and of witchcraft and sorcery. Hecate has been, and will be again, a powerful force in the world. While she has primarily had dealings with women seeking power and influence, she is not opposed to dealing with men providing they are not assholes.
Abilities: unknown (gain higher level to expand list)
Spells: unknown (gain higher level to expand list)
What the hell? ‘Provided they are not assholes’? What is that even doing in the description? He was taken aback, nonplussed, and floored. All at once. And then he laughed, the laughter spilling forth until he couldn’t stop himself. The complete team wipe, the stress of negotiating with a team member over a reroll, along with the revelation of a new character class that could be game changing for him and his party - all of it rolled off his shoulders as he gasped and shuddered in tension relieving bouts of laughter that brought him nearly to tears.
And then he reflected on the last part: unknown (gain higher level to expand list) and he felt himself grow calm as a creeping sense of unease filled him. Unknown. He wiped a few tears from his eyes and forced himself to calm.
Hecate was not demonic, nor a nightmare from outside reality. There were no red flags except for that concerning note of ‘unknown’. Yet he had this feeling that he should take the chance. After all, should shit go pear-shaped, as Shawn would say, he could reroll again. It’s not like this was a permanent choice. It’s just a game, after all.
He couldn’t help but think: famous last words. But then he did the unthinkable: he committed to rerolling his character. Damn, Sara would have his balls for this when she found out. As fast as he thought and committed to the change, it presented him with the usual beginning character screen.
Name? A blinking cursor rested alongside that simple prompt.
Left Hand, Shaper - these weren’t names he’d gone by so much as titles he’d earned as a Paladin, but they had been an enduring part of his character for so long they might as well have been the names he had chosen. Those that referred to him by his chosen name were few and far between.
Neither name suited his new class, however, so it was time to choose another. Clyde the Dark Monk went about as well as Charlie Brown the Dark Sith, so that was out. He almost focused on the randomizer but then inspiration struck and he quickly input his new name and mentally pressed enter.
Silas. Silas the Black. A bit, just the teensiest bit pretentious, but that was the name he selected. It fit his new character build. A Dark Monk, one in service to the trifected goddess Hecate, or so he hoped.
It would work.
His beginning attributes chart appeared next.
Silas the Black
Race
Human
Class
Dark Monk
Level
1
Profession
none
Deity
none
Strength
10
Dexterity
10
Constitution
10
Intelligence
10 (+2)
Wisdom
10 (+2)
Charisma
10
Luck
10
Health
100/100
Mana
120/120
Health regen/sec
1.0
Mana regen/sec
1.2
Nine attribute points remaining. Class bonuses: +2 Intelligence, +2 Wisdom
A race change didn’t appeal to him. He knew many people rushed to choose the Elven or dwarf race but this had never sparked his interest. Sure, he’d switched gender enough, playing a female virtually every time he rolled a character, but that was for the simple pleasure of playing a curvaceous, boobalicious babe. Somehow playing a female Paladin made sense to him, but rolling a female Dark Monk didn’t work. That made the choice to play as a human male simple.
Clyde fidgeted with the appearance controls unsure how he would prefer his male character to appear. Sliding the skin color from light to dark, and back to a more neutral beige, and then tapping the slider a few nudges towards lighter skin tone was his first decision. For hair he chose shoulder-length black straight hair, parted down the middle, but pulled back into a short tail. The eyes similarly would be dark, as close to black as the slider allowed him. He gave his nose a distinctive hook with a smidgen more size than his actual nose. His lips narrowed into a severe, serious looking mouth, one that rarely smiled. The jawline and chin took on a sharp appearance, thinner, and he looked more sinister and befitting of the name Silas the Black.
He gave himself a slender body with a lean, toned musculature devoid of any chest or stomach hair. He allowed himself more height than the average, a modest two inches added to put him at six feet in height.
He accepted the changes to his appearance and moved on to his attributes.
Playing a rare class, one he had never encountered before, had its disadvantages. He did not understand how to apply his attribute points. The class had a mana pool, so Wisdom and Intelligence seemed obvious choices. On the other hand, he was still a monk, and that class excelled in unarmed combat which pointed to Strength, Dexterity, and Constitution. Except for Charisma and Luck, that covered the bases.
This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Min-maxing this character build was probably out of the question but he felt he needed to emphasize the build towards either close-quarters combat or more of a mana-based character. His Dark Monk class was already showing its advantages with a healthy class bonus for two of his attributes. Monks are masters of unarmed combat, though, so he’d need to throw in a couple points each into Strength and Constitution. He then placed one more point in Intelligence and three points in Wisdom; he tossed the last in luck because you can never have too much luck.
He looked at his character sheet after applying the changes.
Silas the Black
Race
Human
Class
Dark Monk
Level
1
Profession
none
Deity
none
Strength
12
Dexterity
10
Constitution
12
Intelligence
11 (+2)
Wisdom
13 (+2)
Charisma
10
Luck
11
Health
120/120
Mana
130/130
Health regen/sec
1.2
Mana regen/sec
1.5
Class bonuses: +2 Intelligence, +2 Wisdom)
Skills: Unarmed Combat: 1, Inspect: 1
Abilities: Create Compact, Heavy Fist: 1, Shadow Blend: 1
Spells: Stone Skin: 1
Skills, abilities and spells were all standard for the class. No options there, though he did note the Create Compact ability with interest.
> Are You Ready to Play?
There was no way to accept this outside of the dive tub. Clyde considered whether to notify his party members or go in solo while he familiarized himself with the Dark Monk class and his character Silas the Black. Cringing at the thought of facing his friends, and in particular, Sara made the choice simple.
He stripped down to his skivvies and eased into the cool gel of the dive tub. He relaxed into the molded foam padding lining the bottom of the tub. A tone sounded acknowledging his presence and the heavy lid lowered until the tub fully enclosed him. There was a soft hissing sound as the seals locked. A firm pressure at the base of his head was all he felt as the neural connector pressed into place, slotting into the slim connecting port.
His visual field changed subtly, becoming more vibrant and deepening from the flat interface he used when out of game. Now the prompt asking if he was ready to play was selectable, and he focused and agreed.
A light grew until its brightness flooded his eyes and just as quickly dissipated and he found himself at the standard starting point for new characters, the wooded glade mired in the deep murk of early evening. He cast about to his left and right. Seeing no one else near, he withdrew a little past the edges of the tree line, seeking some shelter from any passers-by. He leaned against the rough bark of a thick tree and brought up his character screen.
With scarcely a thought, he activated Create Compact. The words necessary to invoke the dark entity came unbidden to his lips.
“Hecate, I beseech you to listen to my entreaty. I wish to form a compact with the dark goddess, the goddess of witchcraft and sorcery, the trifected perfection of the goddess of the underworld, of boundaries, and the one to whom I would enter a compact. Hecate, I ask you to answer my summons. Hecate, I ask you thrice, appear.”
His mouth was dry, gummy, and he felt utterly unable to so much as whisper another word. An immense and frightening presence pressed on him from every direction at once. He felt as if he might be crushed and then the pressure pulled back, the murky night lit up to near the brightness of early morning, and she appeared before him.
The woman held an allure he had never felt from any woman. She consumed his vision with avarice that felt physical. His balls tightened, the feeling intense and bordering on painful. She was lithe and womanly, her hips curving outward from a slender waist, her breast uplifted and generous with puffy nipples that could be seen beneath the gauzy, sheer cloth of her simple gown, nipples that were erect and pressing against that same fabric. His gaze drifted down to her navel and lower, though her the fabric was not so revealing and he started at the realization he was predatorily staring at her sex or trying to, and he jerked his eyes up to meet hers.
Her visaged flickered, one moment showing a woman possessing three separate heads, all beautiful with bright, flowing brown hair, and the next moment Hecate was represented by only one head, her face lovely beyond compare. A murmur in the back of his mind tried to interject with the observation there was nothing particularly unique or transcendent about her face; she looked fairly ordinary. And then he felt that tiny voice fade to the background, and her stunning beauty transfixed again him.
Enough, he thought, this is a glamour. He pushed and fought free long enough to form the next step in the compact.
“Hecate, heed me. I wish to form a compact with you, to bring you power in this world even as I benefit from your power.”
The glamour’s effect lessened enough to allow him some freedom of thought and movement as she shifted forward, leaning in to gaze at him with slight interest.
“This world, you say. And what world is this, servant? I am neither known to this world nor do I know this world. It is strange to me and growing stranger by the moment. You are a strange one to summon me thinking to form a compact, and yet I am intrigued. My power has waned across many worlds and planes. Too many have forgotten my kind.”
“This is the land of Illanir on the continent of Salur. The world has no name I know. Never thought too much about it. How about Uurth? That’s as good a name as any.”
“Yes,” she laughed, “as good a name as any other if you know not the true name.”
“That I do not,” he replied.
“Mortal, I do not enter compacts easily, and only with those that serve as my agents in the world. I sense that you are known as a dark monk, though there is only a vague sense of what that means. You seem able to summon one such as me, and you purport to be able to form a compact. There may be the limit of your own understanding if what I see in your mind is true.”
“You have the truth of it, goddess,” Clyde said.
“And so this world…”
Hecate extended the last syllable, and as she did, he found his mind turning inward as he contemplated the intricacies of the gaming world found within the bits and bytes of The Kingdom of Illanir. For long minutes he was lost in reverie until Hecate gasped and sputtered.
“This can not be true. What is this falseness? I am the goddess Hecate. I am true and, yes I know this to be so, I am no construct of artificial intelligence, I am no mere construct of a thinking machine. Oh, I am of a mind to wipe you from the face of this false plane little human. Do you seek to entrap me in this false place?”
Her voice had risen as she spoke, turning strident and heated until she all but yelled the final question, her face leaning into his, turning his will and his knees to jelly. His mind balked, unable to form a coherent thought in the face of her immense presence that once more pressed in on him like a massive vise, the screw turning as its embrace tightened and tightened, stealing his breath and leaving him unable to answer.
He managed a single shuddering gasp.
Hecate pulled away from him, smoothing her hands down the curves of her body. She calmed herself and the pressure of her presence receded, allowing him to pull in a deep breath, thought returning to his shaken mind.
“I am sorry, goddess. No, never. This is a game. I don’t understand what you ask. How could I entrap a goddess? Why? Wait, are you a real goddess? Aren’t you part of the game? I think I have a headache.”
He groaned.
“Yes, you speak truly. Yet I feel my anger justified, and my wrath justly provoked. You will serve me in this world. I will accept your compact. But first, there is a small matter of this game world of yours. This will not do. I can not accept the service of anything less than a man of flesh and blood, nor is there power to be had in an artificial world.
“From this moment your life and your power are tied to me. As for this world of electricity and fancy, there is only one way forward.”
Her light waned and fluttered until an absolute and obsidian night dominated his vision, leaving him sightless in a world bereft of sound and, as even the cool night air dropped away, his skin was numb and unfeeling. He tried to open his mouth, but no sound came, nor could he feel his mouth, nor his tongue. He drifted in a no-world for a time beyond his reckoning until the world skittered and stuttered; the night returned along with his awareness of the wooded dale in which stood a confused, terrified man with a thudding heart, flushed skin, and eyes that darted nervously trying to take in everything at once.
The dale was familiar and alien, mundane, and thrumming with an exotic feel of mystery. The air was packed with energy, and the goddess was gone. Where she stood before him an interminable time ago there was only grass, and behind him stood tall, thick trees that cast him in a deeper shadow than the now moon-lit inner glade. He felt he was alone in the night. The goddess seemingly having abandoned him.
And then the slimmest shade of the goddess caressed his mind causing him to shudder and still. Her voice whispered in his mind, and he perked ethereal ears to listen more closely.
“Of the game world I have only managed to preserve the continent of Salur. The land of Illanir is where you stand. The people and creatures, the many beasts and monsters, and all other beings are real and part of the world as you are, being all of flesh, blood, or formed of whatever energies that were required for their existence. I have brought to existence a hale world of adventurers and NPCs, as you have known them till this moment, into which you may venture forth and spread my influence and domain.
“I am weakened by my efforts, my servant, and you will be on your own for a time while I regather my strength, and you draw to yourself a coven of equals, women of beauty and sensuality, of grace and intelligence, and a fierce determination and will to match your own. Or if you feel yourself the lesser of the sexes, perhaps greater than your own. No matter.
“To this end, I will grant you what gifts I may. When near a woman you find attractive, you will gain +5 to your Charisma. This will aid you in drawing women to your coven, and why should they not also be attractive?”
She laughed lightly, the musical notes of her laughter dancing on his spine as if motes of lightning.
“I sense you approve, and yet you are also disturbed. You will need to leave behind your world’s odd sense of morality. A coven must be close, is always led by a warlock, and the women are as tightly bound to you by their sexuality as by the oaths made before you and me.”
He groaned inwardly. He was stuck in a harem story. What would Sara and Shawn think of him? For that matter, where were Sara and Shawn? Would he see them again?
He focused on his visual interface which appeared little different, cast a glance at the log out icon and attempted to log out. As he both suspected and feared nothing happened.
“Ah, no, my servant. There is no escape from your compact. As I have said, you are tied to me. Your life and power are tied to me, such that should you succeed so shall I and if you fail me, you too shall suffer even as I suffer.
“This might not be what you intended when you entered your game world to summon me into a compact, but this is what is and will be. The die is cast, the decision made, the compact entered into, and so forth. As they say in your world, man up, don’t be a pussy, don’t cry over spilled milk, and that ship has sailed.”
Her laughter again danced along his spine. He winced before straightening and drawing himself up to his full height.
“You are correct, goddess. I apologize. This is a lot to take in, and I’m uncertain, will I ever see my world again, my friends? Are there other players in this former game world? How in the hell did you do this?”
His voice rose some at the end and he realized he was yelling into the otherwise still night. If anyone could see him, they would assume he had lost his mind. Perhaps sensing the danger of a deranged madman alone in the woods, they would slip from the dale before being sighted by him.
“You are more right than you know. If your friends Sara and Shawn were to see you at this time they would rightly consider you mad. Only you can hear me, and when I come to you in the future in this manner, you would do well to consider that before you gibber to yourself. Send your thoughts to me, do not speak them aloud.”
Damn, she was reading his mind. And she knew the names of his friends. He guessed that meant…
“Yes, I know everything there is to know about you. You’re quite the pervert. You should thank me for the opportunity to experience the perversion of your mind with real women, rather than pictures of women or your waifu. That last would get you serious prison time if she were flesh and blood, Clyde. You have no such worries with me, however. Mine is the morality of a goddess, of will and of power; you may do as you will so long as you serve me faithfully.”
“Goddess! I would never. Ohmigod, a waifu is an anime character, she’s not even real. I’ll admit Rin Tosaka is in High School, but c’mon she’s so hot! Those thigh-high stockings are, ahem. And she’s an anime character,” he added hurriedly, “Ugh, why am I even justifying something weebs do for fun? Even you have to admit though that Rin is best girl, right?”
He laughed weakly and realized that he had again spoken aloud. He resolved to take greater care because now he sounded like a pervert, hentai in Japanese. So he had a thing for tsundere, did that make him a bad person? Clyde did not agree that it did. The presence of the goddess had cooled, and he thought to himself maybe he needed to focus on more pressing matters.
“Too right, my servant. As I have stated, I care not that you are a pervert.”
He cringed and almost began again with a spirited defence of his moral uprightness within the ranks of neets and weebs. Catching himself before he put another foot firmly in his mouth, he quieted his mind, taking deep, cleansing breaths.
“You are generous, goddess.”
“Indeed, I am. Now, as to your questions, and before we get back to bestowing much needed gifts. I have no idea how you will survive in this world. Perhaps I chose too hastily in selecting my champion. Ah, well, ships and spilled milk. I must work with what I have been dealt with in this world.
“Where was I? Oh, yes, your friends were not logged in and so are not part of this world. Except for the one named Hugh. He was logged in so he could finish his reroll as a Monk. As you have a prior obligation to him I have situated him in an inn in the nearby town. As my representative in this world I will expect you, no I will require you, to honor all commitments you make. I will not have you dishonoring me or yourself in any manner. Tomorrow you will meet up with Hugh and together you shall seek to grow stronger. Your obligation ends when he reaches level 10, of course.”
> You have been given a Quest
>
> Honor Your Commitment to Hugh
>
> Success: the favor of the goddess Hecate
>
> Failure: you really do not want to anger the goddess; do not fail
“You must strive to think of this world as your world, as that is the case. As it was your will that summoned me, and it was your will to form a compact with a powerful and beautiful goddess, I will feel no remorse for separating you from your friends and family. You should be grateful beyond words for this and other gifts I will bestow upon you.
“Which brings me to my next gift: you will need to get stronger and quickly, my servant, and to this end I will double the experience you receive for the first woman you bring into your coven, and into service to me. For each woman you bring into your coven I will grant additional experience so as to hasten your leveling. This is a gift containing more gifts and within these more gifts yet. As you gain in experience and levels, so will you gain attribute, skills and abilities, and you will level these, as well.
“Grow your coven, Clyde, and reap the rewards. Grow stronger than any other this world has known.”
> You have been given a Quest
>
> Grow Your Coven
>
> Success: receive double the experience for the first woman you add to your harem, ahem, coven, and an additional .25 experience given for each woman added
>
> Failure: continue on as a weak, perverted waifu-obsessed weeb
“Additionally, I am gifting you with a small bag of coins. I can not abide an impoverished servant. From time to time the bag will replace some of the coins you have spent. Oh! I need to make a slight adjustment, there, it will also act as a bag of holding. No adventurer worth their salt goes anywhere without a bag of holding, is this not correct, Clyde?”
The goddess quieted and waited for his answer. His head swum with gifts, quests, lost friends and family, a world he’d never see again, and a question awaiting an answer.
“Uh, yeah, absolutely, a bag of holding is absolutely something an adventurer must have. Um, though I’ve never had one before in Salur. I’m not even sure they are a thing in this game.”
He frowned, and considered silently, trying to recall if anyone on any of the forums had ever mentioned finding a bag of holding.
“Tsk tsk, Clyde. You are forgetting this is no longer a game. Forget this simple fact at your own peril.”
Peril? Wait, what? He felt panic rise in his gut, threatening to overwhelm him.
“What happens if I die in this world? Goddess? Can I still respawn?” His panic overcame his caution, and he sputtered and asked his questions audibly so any could hear if any were nearby. The presence of the goddess pulled away from his mind. Only the barest whisper answered his queries, and he detected a hint of humor.
“My time has run out, my servant. Go forth and prosper. Let the world feel your might. Worry not about death. I’m certain you’ll barely notice it when it comes.”
Her laughter faded along with her presence from his mind, and he was alone.