My party waits as I contemplate the best way to kill this guy. I know he’s just a video game character. A living, breathing video game character full of realistic blood and realistic organs who will, inevitably, make a very realistic death rattle as I mercilessly stab him.
No biggie.
Despite my Silent Step, I doubt I can make it across the small courtyard unseen. The guard may be tired, but the entire area is in full view. There’s maybe a one foot gap between his back and the wall though. My shadowstep should work just fine.
I take a deep breath. Here goes nothing.
Sliding my foot along the wall’s edge, I curl around the corner, lithe as a cat. My heart beats once, twice, and then I’m gone.
The world blinks as I appear behind him, dagger poised. Without hesitation, I plunge the blade into his neck. It takes no effort. The dagger sinks to the hilt.
The guard’s halberd clangs against cobblestone as the man desperately claws at his throat. He scrambles to pry my fingers from the weapon, his head bobbing up and down as he struggles for air.
I tug the dagger out. Blood spouts from his neck like a leak in a hose. Gurgling, the man falls to his knees and face-plants on the ground with a thud. His body spasms. Then he’s dead, a viscous, sanguine pool spilling out from under him.
1.
Enemy Defeated:
Town Guard (Lv 10)
Exp: 50
Earned: 250g
Exp to next level: 92/100
2.
Title(s) Earned:
Novice Assassin: Kill an unalerted enemy with one attack.
Reward: Silent Step +1
3.
Skill Proficiency Increased:
Silent Step 6 (+9 Dexterity Bonus)
I whip my head to the side and just manage to swallow the bile rising in my throat before I vomit.
“Wow,” says Luci, coming up beside me. “Gross.”
“Thanks, Luce.” I shiver, my heartbeat fluttering so fast, it feels like I’m vibrating. Stupid adrenaline. I inhale deeply, measuring the rise and fall of my chest, as I try not to keel over.
That was… very easy. Physically. The dagger just slid into the guy like he was an expensive filet mignon. Is that because of my level or are humans just that easy to kill? I look down at the blood painting my fingers. It’s too dark to see, but it’s warm and sticky and stinks like a bag of pennies.
I turn to Elias. “This how you felt with your first murder?”
“No.”
I shake my head. “You monster.” Wiping my blade on my yoga pants, I look to the others. “Alright geniuses. Now we have a body.”
Elias taps his lips. “Hmm.”
“You didn’t think of that?”
“I did not,” he replies. He surveys the courtyard. “There’s nowhere to hide him here. We’ll have to take him inside.”
“Awesome.”
Snagging the keyring from the guard’s belt, I go to unlock the door. It takes a few tries before finding the right fit. The lock clicks. As carefully as I can, I budge the door open.
Inside is a small mudroom. It smells earthen and musty, the floor nothing but packed dirt. On one side of the room sits an oak chest. Several cloaks and a single sachet of dried lavender hang from a row of rough-hewn pegs above it. On the other side sits a stack of barrels and crates.
One by one, we edge inside. Elias has the body slung over his shoulder. Luci carries his halberd, which then disappears into her inventory.
Smart girl. I’d completely forgotten we can stash weapons and armor in our weird invisible inventories. I eye the guard’s body. If I wanted his gear, I’d have to strip him, right? Everything he’s wearing is cloth: his cap, his gloves, his shirt, his pants. They wouldn’t fit, and they wouldn’t provide much cover. But they could be worth something. Well. If we have the time, I’m definitely going to look into that. The mudroom too. Might be some clothes in here that could earn us a bit of cash. Oh, and I have that class bonus for selling loot at a premium too.
Just for kicks, I snatch a cloak off one of the pegs and let it vanish into my inventory.
Armor Acquired!
Common Cloak
A lightweight accessory.
Requirement: None
Provides:
- Mild insulation
No fortitude or abilities then. Wonder how much it’s worth.
Éogan grabs another cloak and drapes it over the blooded stone behind us, then shuts the door. “It’ll have to do,” he says with a shrug.
After unloading the furs and blankets from the chest, I gesture for Elias to do the honors. He dumps the body, clunking its head against the side before angling it sideways, contorting the legs into a pretzel, and jamming the whole thing down with the heel of his boot. Then we pile as many blankets as we can fit on top.
I snap the lid shut. “Teamwork.”
“Now what?” whispers Luci.
There’s an arch leading into a stony corridor that splits three ways. Éogan points off to the right. “The stairwell to the dungeon is through the door at the end of the hall. That’s where Lord Cathal’s men took us.”
“Maybe you guys should stay here,” I reply. “You know, hide. Wait until I clear it.”
“What if you’re seen?” asks Elias. “You can’t handle multiple guards.”
“Then I’ll just start screaming. I’ve also still got a sleeping draught and two bottles of liquid fire that I have no idea how to use.”
“That isn’t altogether reassuring,” he answers. He doesn’t argue further.
The three of them hide: Luci behind a few barrels, Éogan beneath a cloak, and Elias just standing as far back in the corner as he can. It’s like playing hide and seek with four-year-olds. One day, we’ll be much better at this. If we survive that long, of course.
“Psh, increased ‘cowardice?’” Luci’s muffled voice scoffs. “Stupid.”
Crouching low, I step into the corridor.
I don’t know how one goes about stealthing down a hallway other than praying they don’t run into anyone. So that’s what I do. I slink along the wall, hugging the shadows as much as possible, my new dagger in hand in case things go awry. At this hour, the corridor is only illuminated by whatever starlight the narrow windows at the far ends manage to catch. I had imagined the hall would be lit by torches or candles, but I guess that’s just a waste of resources.
Still, I hold my breath, my heart pounding at the thought of being seen. I don’t want to have to fight a chambermaid.
Luckily, all I pass is a larder and some other door that I ignore for now. In only moments, I reach the end of the hall. I pry the door open, wincing at the sound of rusted hinges, and squeeze inside.
I find myself at the top of a wide stairwell, the ceiling arched and low. Candlelight reflects off of the final steps. I have no idea what I’m walking into here, but I take solace in the fact that I can fucking teleport.
Slowly, so slowly, I descend. I swear I can hear my own heartbeat reverberating against the walls. I’m sweating, the grip of the dagger slippery in my palm. Midway down the stairwell, I hear the low bass tones of muttering voices. Someone - a guard likely - shouts, and the voices quiet.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
At the bottom of the stairwell, I quickly step across a small alcove and throw my back against the wall, then peek through the archway into the dungeon beyond.
Skill Proficiency Increased:
Silent Step 7 (+9 Dexterity Bonus)
Shush, not now, system.
The dungeon is, as one would expect, oppressively dreary. It’s just one wide corridor, the ceiling low and floors made of dirt. It reeks of sour decay and piss. There seems to be only six iron-barred cells, which I suppose might be a lot for a small town. Who knows. A single fat candle on a rickety table lights the room, sentencing every enclosed cell to almost complete darkness.
Just a few feet away, a lone guard sits on a stool. He lazily rolls a die across the table, swears, and rolls it again.
Ultán - Dungeon Guard (Level 10)
Instead of a halberd, this guard’s got a sword on his right hip and a long dagger or knife on the left. And you know what? I’ll be honest. Thinking about the weapons I could loot off his corpse makes me just a little less concerned about killing him.
This time, I don’t use my ability. Maybe I’m just being cocky, but I want to know how silent my Silent Step really is.
With the skill comes knowledge. Focusing on the guard, I lower my body and move forward, carefully setting the outer edges of my toes onto the floor and rolling into each step before gradually bringing down my heel. Once my foot is planted, I shift my weight and move again.
It’s a little janky in gym shoes, but the movement itself feels as natural as it gets.
I inhale and exhale steadily through my nose, not making a single sound as a glide forward. Soon, I’m close enough to feel his heat.
Should I be jabbing this guy in the neck or should I be cutting across his throat, the way they do it on screen? I don’t know if it’s more efficient that way or just a TV thing. The problem is, the idea of slicing throats and tendons and whatnot makes me feel queasy. Even the word “cutthroat” makes me a bit nauseous. “Stabthroat” feels fine though.
So, holding my breath, I raise my dagger and jam it into his neck.
This time, instead of waiting for him to fall, I pull back and guide him gently to the floor. Then I roll him over and withdraw the blade. A squeal manages to escape his lips. I don’t think; I step on the back of his head and smash his face into the dirt, smothering the noise.
1.
Enemy Defeated:
Dungeon Guard (Lv 10)
Exp: 50
Earned: 250g
2.
Level up! You are now Level 11.
Exp to next level: 42/110
Attribute points available: 3
Huh. Well, I’m just glad Luci didn’t see that. Although, quite frankly, she could probably handle it just fine. Which, quite frankly, isn’t terrific.
Whatever. Fuck it. I’m a ninja. And at this point, I’m feeling so smooth that I’m almost tempted to just solo this entire hall and come out as a Level 20 because fuck you, I’m a ninja.
Still, there’s a quest at hand, and it’d be a pretty dickmove to clear the entire place by myself, especially if I get myself killed. Now I just need to-
A foot falls on the stone steps behind me.
I spin around. The glint of candlelight catches in the steel of a guard’s blade as it slashes downward.
Shit! Where the fuck did he come from? In a flailing reflex, I shadowstep behind him. I’m unprepared and unbalanced, with one foot on one step, one foot on another.
In a panic, I stab at his throat.
But the fucker’s alerted. My ability doesn’t trigger. The blade glances off the back of his neck, slicing just deep enough to hurt but not deep enough to kill.
The guard hardly even flinches. He’s disciplined, his every move made with intention. He turns, his sword swiping at my stomach.
I’m undisciplined. And nearly nothing I do is intentional. But I’m nimble, my skills and actions baked into my muscles like I was born this way. Skipping sideways, I punch down with my dagger. I don’t know what I’m doing; I don’t mean to parry - just to get the goddamn blade away from my goddamn body - but it works. My crossguard catches his blade for just a moment. His attack swings low.
Suddenly, my skin burns as his sword cuts across my thigh.
He takes a step backward onto the dirt floor. Then, with one gloved hand solidly wrapped around the grip, he holds his sword across his body and breathes steadily, readying his next attack.
I am so fucked.
The guard swings, and all I see is a flash of metal aiming straight for my neck. With a gasp, I duck under it. I don’t know where the blade goes from there. The only reason I know it misses is that I’m still alive.
He makes another swipe, and I duck it again - this time, setting one foot forward and spinning towards him. For a moment, I’m inside his guard.
Before he can react, I grab my poison dagger and stab. Again, no clue where I’m stabbing. I mean to get him in the chest. I think I manage to nick his arm.
The toxic effect is immediate. When he moves back and raises his weapon next, he’s just a tad too slow. I have time. Not enough time to think properly or move deliberately. But time enough.
I’m all adrenaline now. Adrenaline and quite a lot of panic. Flicking the dagger into a reverse grip, I swipe the blade across his face and then swing overhand to jam the blade right into his eye.
He screams. I don’t wait. I yank out the dagger and jab him I-don’t-know-how-many-fucking-times, opening so many bloody gashes in his face that I don’t even know what I’m stabbing anymore. Adrenaline and panic: it’s a nasty combo.
Reeling, the man stumbles backwards and falls onto his back. The momentum tugs me forward. As I trip, I just barely manage to lurch to the side and grab onto the wall before I fall with him.
The sword slips from the guard’s grasp as he writhes helplessly on the ground, his gloved hands cradling his face.
I’m panting, sweating, my heart thumping so hard that I can actively feel the blood pulsing out of my leg. I kick the sword out of his grip, then straddle the fucker, and - nearly collapsing onto him - jam both my blades into the sides of his head.
Enemy Defeated:
Dungeon Guard (Lv 10)
Exp: 50
Earned: 250g
Exp to next level: 92/110
That’s right, bitch. Trained gamer, meet button masher.
I slide off the guy and deflate against the wall for a second. Out of curiosity, I bring up my status.
Health: 20/28
Stamina: 19/72
Welp. I definitely couldn’t afford a third one of those guys. I think I need a longer blade, like the shopkeep mentioned back in Pharos. Maybe a dagger actually made for parrying and something longer for slashing. Or two long knives for slashing. Do it like the Fremen do. Or Arya. Maybe add in some martial arts. A few rolls and flips. I’m not sure if those are useful but c’mon. If I can jump off a wall and stab a guy mid-air, that can’t be bad.
Gradually, I regain my breath as I watch my health and stamina tick back up. My leg stops pulsing, the wound sealing itself shut.
No one else seems to be coming down the stairs, and I don’t think we made enough noise to attract anyone. Must have just caught a shift change. Just my luck.
Once I feel good to stand again, I snatch the keys from the guard’s cinch and open up the nearest cell. My strength is shit, so dragging the guards across the ground isn’t the easiest task, but with a few unseemly grunting noises, I manage to cram ‘em in there nonetheless. They won’t be seen unless someone goes looking.
Now. Time to loot. I know I’m pressed for time, so I’m not going to strip the guards naked, but it can’t hurt to take a minute for the weapons, right?
I poke my head out of the cell and glance up the stairwell. Still safe.
Alright, let’s see what they’ve got then. First, I grab the weapon that nearly killed me. It’s called a common arming sword, a light one-handed weapon with a blade just over two feet long - too long for my tastes. Plus the strength requirement is more than double what I’ve got. However it could be worth something.
I ignore the notification as it disappears into my inventory. Then I do it again for the other guard’s sword. So that’s two swords and a cloak now. Probably shouldn’t be trying to sell these in town, but I’mma make bank by the time I get back to Pharos.
Oh, but what’s this? The guard I killed with a sneak attack is also carrying a smaller blade. I draw it from the sheathe and turn it over in my hand. It’s a one-sided knife with a rather boring wooden grip and a blade just over a foot long. No pommel or crossguard.
Weapon Acquired!
Common Scian
A lightweight one-handed slashing weapon.
Dexterity Requirement: 15
Strength Requirement: 5
Level 1 Ability(s):
Bleeding Slash: Attack and inflict bleeding on an enemy.
Level 10 Ability(s):
Strengthened Riposte: After parrying, inflict 50% more damage with the next attack within 5 seconds.
It’s definitely got more weight to it, as well as a longer reach. Yeah, this could do nicely. Although I would need to add a point into strength to make it work. The only other issue is that it’s way too long to attach to my thigh straps.
I swish it around as though I know what I’m doing, the same way I swirl wine around the glass when I’m at a restaurant. Except this actually feels kind of right.
Out of curiosity, I try popping the weapon into my inventory and then willing it back into my hand. The first part is instantaneous. The latter part takes about five seconds. Better to keep it out then, depending on how fast I can draw.
I loosen the leather cinch off the guard and tighten it around my waist, then tie the new sheathe and sword to the side. Oh, yeah, Helen likey. Now I just need one with actual abilities.
To christen the moment, I add one point to my strength and the other two into resolve. That definitely feels right.
After locking the cell behind him, I start to head back up the stairs, the keys in my fist, when I hear a voice.
“What’s going on? Who’s there?”
It’s a woman’s voice, a bit raspy and maybe a little bit haughty. A prisoner? I contemplate ignoring it and addressing the matter with the rest of my party. But so long as I’m down here, I might as well scout the place.
I reverse down the last step and cautiously walk to the rear of the dungeon, keeping a wide berth of the doors. Having met Lord Cathal, I doubt there are any hardened criminals in here, but it pays to be careful anyhow.
I look into each of the cells as I go, anticipating the shadowed face of a distraught nine-year-old girl. However all of the cells but the last are empty. There are no children in sight.
Of course there aren’t. No quest in this world would be that easy.
I arrive at the final cell. It’s difficult to see inside. The walls are made of stone, the interior only visible through the iron-barred door. It’s giving off that same feeling that the empty field did, like lightning about to hit. In fact, from a certain angle, there appears to be a faint shimmer across the door. There's magic here. The lock maybe?
A woman in a cream-colored blouse, a pencil skirt, and renaissance-style boots glowers from the other side. Beside her is a rather average guy, also in businessware, in addition to a sage green cloak straight out of Robin Hood. There seems to be two other office workers huddled farther in.
As I look at them, their names and levels don’t appear. That can only mean one thing.
It’s another party.