Chapter 5 – Promenons-nous dans les bois
“Promenons-nous dans les bois,
Pendant que le loup n'y est pas.
Si le loup y était,
Il nous mangerait.
Mais comme il n'y est pas,
Il nous mangera pas.”
– Promenons-nous dans les bois
(Let’s stroll in the woods)
– ***** –
Three weeks minus one day before breakdown (IGT)
“Waking up after a good night’s sleep is one of the greatest pleasures of life. Being greeted by a smiling face upon waking up, is a must. The smiling face belonging to an undead skeleton is, however, a bit of a turnoff.”
– Life among the dead, Elric Walker.
The previous day, after an exhausting battle against an unsuspectedly overbearing opponent, Elric had fallen asleep while reminiscing about his “glorious” arrival in the Erwynian undead wasteland.
Something to tell my future grandchildren…not. Plus, to get grandchildren, one must have children, the first step involving the capricious existence known as… “girlfriend”. Not seeing that happen anytime soon… Maybe I should get in contact with Jenny again? Nah… That didn’t work out for a reason. *sigh* …whatever. Allons-y! Elric, rise and shine, it’s another day in paradise!
With thoughts of irony and self-pity, the Antique Sewer Crawler stood up and proceeded to stretch without hurry, as to taunt the bizarrely unmoving [Skeleton Lancer] standing barely two metres away. Elric picked up the map that had slipped to the ground, packed up his camping gear, and equipped the leather armour he wore to travel. The set didn’t really suit a knight, and actually gave him a few penalties for incompatibility, but whoever had actually tried crossing a forest in full plate throw him the first stone. Furthermore, as per Elric’s rule number two: “Comfortableness and style have to be prioritized over efficiency” – Not that he had much of a fashion sense. And the light protection was rather comfy.
As he left his rest place, he mumbled a spell, nonchalantly reducing to powder the dejected assemblage of calcium phosphate – bones – trapped in his warding net.
“See.” He said to no one in particular, as the remains of the skeleton weren’t very receptive. “I knew it wasn’t pointless to use expensive offensive wards… Should have been though. Ah! If they were activated… Damn… and those were my last.”
On that positive note, the ward-less, under-armoured knight was once more on his merry way. He easily maintained the solid pace specific to experienced hikers, whistling as he gave the finishing touch to his rotting critter genocide. The Wanderer slowly strolled between the trees, deploring for the umpteenth time the absence of wildlife. Only silence echoed in those woods – exception made of his whistling, and the repulsive dying gargles of the burning animated fleshbags he did in.
“Spring without singing birds really isn’t spring anymore. *sigh* It really feels weird.” *SPLAARSH* “Speaking of weird…” *PSHUEEERRRG* “What the hell was that big bony fellow doing here? It’s far too early. I can accept having missed one or two winged shrimps – Ah! Not so fast, you. *burn* – but not a whole freaking dummy escaped from biology class!”
After pondering for a few seconds, he took out a pen and a notebook titled “Elric’s little Travel Guide, Philosophy of Life and Deaths”, and started writing without slowing down, neither his steps, nor his mindless slaughter – He didn’t need hands, his eyes shot laser beams.
“Rule…number…373…only…trust…your…guts…in..places…that..spawn…undead…squirrels.”
Seriously, was this some kind of in-joke? I get why game programmers would like to use squirrel, but still…that’s just plain bad taste.
“Sleeping there might also have been a tad idiotic…Naaah. See, nothing happened. Hehe…”
Actually, people would rarely slept in-game, since it didn’t relieve much of the actual fatigue, especially the mental kind, and it took time away from hunting and levelling. Time flowed four time faster inside UT compared to the real world, so it was no trouble to spend three full days and nights awake. Elric, however, made a point of sleeping at least four hours every night.
First because he liked sleeping outdoors – the “VR” and “RP” in VRMMORPG weren’t there just for show after all. Since, as a solo player, he made his own schedule, he could take every ounce of fun he could get without the interference of the annoyingly attention-demanding beings known as people – sadly, that was the “MM” part. He wasn’t misanthrope per say, but not much of a social animal either. He enjoyed the company of others, but not so much what they expected of him. Forums were easier. He could just ignore requests when he didn’t feel like interacting.
Second, because his class depended much on daylight, and he lost most of his buffs after sundown – like a plumber without shrooms. Clouds, he could deal with, but night really didn’t look good on him. Elric thus preferred to sleep during the hours he was at his weakest, to let time pass faster – He could have just logged off at night, but please refer to reason one.
Sleeping also gave some minor bonuses in health, mana and stamina regeneration. Something like one hour of +5% for each hour of sleep. Elric never bothered to check as a whole lot of parameters influenced the extent of the boost, like sleeping outside, in a bed, in the mouth of a drake – bad memories –, in the cold, in the rain, missing a leg or not, etc.
Most aspects of UT were like this, intuitive and very complex in their inner workings. Stats and percentages had been reduced to very indicative values and were in no case gospel truth. To begin with, any non-permanent bonuses given by an item or piece of equipment wouldn’t appear in your status window, so one would have to keep track of those by themselves – And who does that?! Not me. I’m no god damned human-calculator.
The effects were nothing fancy, but could be felt everywhere. Punching someone from higher ground would have more impact, or sirens couldn’t as easily control creatures who didn’t consider them suitable mating partners – to say it politely –, regardless of the exact amount of strength or willpower one possessed. The stats mattered, of course, but in a duel between closely matched opponents, the smallest circumstance might end up having a huge influence on the outcome.
– *** –
Lost in confused thoughts involving game mechanics, wordplays on programming languages, and sleeping position – Arms in or out of the sheets? Families drew weapons on the issue. –, Elric continued to wander the forest, distractedly wiping out every moving being in sight as he went – good thing Little Red Riding Hood took a sick day. Ah… no. There she was. Lacked most of her lower jaw though, and didn’t look very fresh. Wolf bites in the face do have this kind of effect on people.
Elric’s memories of the day before were confused to say the least. He was quite sure that, in his vanity-induced frenzy, he had crossed the road at least once or twice, meaning the town of Cali could be in any direction by now.
Not that it really mattered. Aside from the mortifying meat-shortage – Elric grew closer to his brain-enthusiastic preys by the day – Cali just had been an optional, randomly set goal. Exploring the wild was fun too, if one didn’t mind the constant life-and-death struggle thingy. Thankfully, he anew mostly encountered normal undead. Right now, his – slowly – healing ego couldn’t probably handle taking a hit from an [Uprooted Possessed Carrot] or a [Resurrected Sliced Courgette].
– *** –
After a few hours of aimlessly hiking through the woods, involving six commandos of commando-going skeletons, an [Unborn Suffering Kitten Foetus] – Who raised THAT?! SQUIIIRREEEL!!! Come out of your damned hole so I can shove you back in!! – and a [Survivor Armoured Cockroach] that had somehow evolved, Elric finally encountered a mid-sized river.
Now now… What do we have here? Is it some kind of pollution? Or does this place like to be creepy just for the heck of it? “Oh…gods.”
In front of him was the nastiest body of water Elric had ever seen, if “water” was even an appropriated term. The turbulent waves of phantasmal plasma seemed to roar, more accurately wail, furiously but only eerie silence could be heard. Distorted faces formed in-between whirlpools, their shut eyes crying dark goo, and their gaping mouths, filled with infinite bubbling darkness, tore open in soundless gargling screams of agony. Emaciated arms, covered in scraps of peeled off spectral skin, extended out of the horrid stream. The closest to the shore tried to grab patches of grass and protruding roots, but were incapable of holding on against the brutal current for more than mere seconds. The smell was sickening, mixture of sewers, rotting corpses and burnt flesh. The whole atrocious spectacle flowed in a lagging manner, leaving nauseating afterimages in its wake. For the first time since he entered this diseased country, Elric finally felt like puking.
*cough* *cough* “Arrrr… Sick.”
Congratulations! You are the first to discover the [River of Lost Souls].
+100 Fame.
Charming. Fitting the [lost Woods], I suppose…
But that wasn’t all.
You have levelled up!
Ah. Better. Must have come pretty close after trashing Fleshless McNutty.
Frowning, he mumbled:
“But I really would have appreciate being rewarded for the discovery of something less disgusting.”
In Untold Tales, discovering new places, atop of additional fame, gave measly experience most players wouldn’t even consider. Like copper coins fallen in front of a king. Worthless, but still there.
Lets see… Last time I increased my strength… so… Oh, who cares? It’s just five points. I’ll probably just lose them with my next death anyway. Let’s go with two in VIT, one in WIS, and the last two in INT. Yeah… That’ll do.
Despite being a knight, Elric always behaved more like a jack-of-all-trade magic swordsman.
That, and his tendency of courting death like an old mistress, with all the associated penalties, should normally have resulted in a pretty rickety character. However, by constantly overexerting himself, which contributed to raise his stats, as well as trifling with powerful and unstable artefacts, he sort of managed to even things out. The result of this ad-libbed approach was in fact a pretty well-endowed avatar, if an unfocused one.
“Show Status Window.”
Status Window
IdentityName:Elric WalkerAlignment:SunLevel:127Class:Solar KnightRace:HumanGender:MaleTitleSuspicious Candyman
Body & SoulHealth:4 970/4 970Mana:2 720/2 720Stamina:5 150/5 150Fame:36 730
Stolen novel; please report.
Basic StatsStrength (STR):215Wisdom (WIS):133Agility (AGI):182Intellect (INT):172Vitality (VIT):197Charism* (CHA):100 (+36)
Additional Stats*Dexterity:78 Leadership:34Endurance:102Luck:23Faith:119Willpower:98
Magical AffinitiesPrimeFire:1LNature:1MWater:1MVoid:1MAir:1MLight:2LEarth:1MDarkness:2ESubLightning (Fire):1MRunes (Void):1MPoison (Nature):1ESoul (Darkness):1E
*Stat points cannot be added to this stat.
Oh, but I hate you too, Wisdom.
Mana regeneration was never his forte – nor was wisdom in general. Not that he ever searched for a solution. When out of fuel, Elric usually would stall for time by hammering enemies with brute strength, using at most some sunlight coating on his giant blade. That worked… most of the time.
His [Solar Knight] class was in most aspects rigorously identical to any other paladin, but didn’t require following all the usual “always strive to protect the weak, to bring justice to the unjust, and to vanquish evil from the darkest corners of the world” crap. Not that Elric didn’t adhere to it, but dedicating his whole life to such a motto seemed rather tiring mentally. The Day Star didn’t require any prayer either – a little sunbathing now and then at most – as It really couldn’t care less. All in all, a [Solar Knight] was sort of a holy rōnin.
Such unrestricted power couldn’t be wielded mindlessly of course – ”With great powers… comes a shit-ton of training” as they say. …I tkink. Elric, the Sage of the Wild, who would remain unfazed in front fire-breathing dragons, smile to squirms of [Desert Behemoth], or – more recently – whistle while butchering legions of undead, still often had terrifying nightmares about the days he spent with his old master, the inflexible Ro-
“Shhhhh!” Don’t jinx yourself, idiot.
A player’s status window was like their personal summed up biography. Elric clearly remembered the time when he got each of his additional stats. [Dexterity] fondly recalled peaceful hours of doll-making, while one glance at [Endurance] made him relive this one time he crossed the path of a [Boxing Octogaroo] – Fists and tentacles… My whole body hurt for weeks. I’ve never been the same after that day.
[Faith] kinda came with the job, even without god to worship. He gained [Willpower] when he broke free of the illusion of a predatory [Slutty Dream Slug] – the name was quite self-explanatory. [Leadership] came with a quest to lead a party – more of a mob actually – of villagers. The goal was to save the chief’s daughter from a goblin cave. Classic… except the details Elric got were incomplete, the monsters outnumbered them three to one, the green bastards also somehow hid a full freaking regiment of mountain trolls, and none of the villagers could fight properly. But they succeeded! And without casualties at that.
Well…one. Me.
The [Luck] stat was the one he was most conflicted about. Not about what it did. Elric was mostly sure it had something to do with critical hits and random treasures in dungeons, maybe also not getting hit by arrows and the likes. No, what bothered Elric was how the stat was granted to him by the God of Chaos himself! – or at least a hovering half-liquid swirling rainbow with a resounding voice claiming to be Him. The colourful vortex shouted something like “Hahaha. You amused me mortal. Persevere in your haphazard ways and I shall grant you My help once more”. Then, a window announced to Elric he got the stat.
Being called random by the embodiment of Chaos didn’t make him happy for some reason. It felt like his personality was beyond saving, like he was doomed to never be able to better his behaviour, and to err aimlessly through life, as an unfocused clown. It was quite depressing in fact.
However, Elric being Elric, he quickly got himself back together, and carried on with what he was doing before the Great Entropy’s rude intervention, namely an ancient ceremony involving a complex upside-down choreography over an anti-gravity magic circle, naked and covered in mustard, mixed with yodelling and juggling pineapples, while a one-legged gnome warped in salmons wrestled a shaved moose.
Elric forgot what the ritual had been for though.
As usual when calling out his status window, Elric’s gaze slid unwillingly towards his fire magic affinity.
“Aaah… *sigh* At least, she can’t get me here. It really is the one good point I can find to this crappy kingdom.” Well, to be fair, I also do find strolling in hell quite entertaining.
– *** –
“Magic Affinities” were one perfect example of UT’s tendency to intuitiveness.
When using magic, the raw power at one’s disposal was of course in direct proportion to their INT, but each spell wasn’t a skill in itself. Instead, any new-born magician would be granted one MA, sometimes two, rarely three. This trait would determine both the power outlet of spells related to it, and the basic magical resistance to said spells.
The size of one’s mana pool didn’t matter. If their figurative affinity-bound mana duct wasn’t wide enough, juice just wouldn’t come out, as simple as that. Although, the opposite was true too. A mage with a big “pipe” wouldn’t be exempt from performance issues if he had a crippled reservoir.
Each affinity had tiers – five, as far as players knew – and every tier had three levels: early, medium, and late. A tier one spell would grow in power with each level its caster grew, but would then peak on the third level.
Upon reaching tier two, the mago would need to move his own ass to find the corresponding higher tier spell, supposing it existed in the first place – something one never knew before failing to find it. No magically updating grimoire, no subconscious unlocking of some underlying hidden potential, no sudden enlightenment on the inner workings of the world – No – only good old sweaty hard work, or “dusty”, as it mostly involved rummaging through unclean libraries, with no help whatsoever from their sour old caretaker.
Thankfully, beginner magic such as [Fireball], [Water Shield], [Wind Blade], [Rock Bullet], [Heal], and other [Rapi…eeeh…[Binding Vines] were easy to come by. It still was difficult for your average sorcerer to update his arsenal though. However, most non-magic-oriented class had low or inexistent resistance to it, so it evened things out. Of course, enchanted items were another matter entirely, as anyone meeting the set requirements could use them.
When it came to magic, Elric was quite the monster. For one, he had just attained the late second tier of light affinity. Still, it was his prime weapon, so no surprise there. What was completely abnormal was to also have reached the mid-first tier for all of water, wind, earth, nature and void affinities, as well as for lightning and runes, plus some poison affinity.
The reason behind this was that one could in fact rise his magic proficiency by constantly subjecting themselves to it… in a harmful way. This method, however, was far too risky and inefficient for anyone sane to try it. Truth be told, not even Elric would do it… on purpose. Be it caprice of the God of Chaos, or sheer stupidity on Elric’s part, but the Reckless Imbecile had by now quite a deep understanding of the offensive possibilities offered by all sorts of hocus-pocus-isms.
As for his fire affinity… *sigh* For some unclear reasons, a certain alluringly hot priestess, She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named – unofficial nickname made in Elric – had taken a liking into bullying the Solar Knight. It started when the poor soul inadvertently killed a drake she was attempting to “tame”. The beaten-up reptile had suddenly rushed from behind a hill, interrupting the quietly sewing Suspicious Candyman. Startled, Elric had fried the beast with a – very effective – [Solar Beam]. He then had looked around, vaguely confused, only to notice a stunningly beautiful and, quite literally, fired up woman, running towards him while shouting… unbecoming incivilities… and also casting a growing [Lava Orb] – as [Fireball] was for pussies. This encounter had marked the beginning of a very unhealthy relationship, very painful on Elric’s part, involving a lot of chasing and running away.
Leaving aside traumatizing, crazy, well-proportioned, lightly-dressed, female flamethrowers…
His darkness affinity had leaped a whooping two levels during his little leisure trip around Undeadia, a bit more than four months (IGT) by now. He also got the soul magic variant after his third encounter with a lich – the Unborn Kitten Raiser had been the fourth one.
Elric didn’t like offensive soul magic… at all. It bypassed most armours, hurt like hell, distorted your senses, and messed with your mind, when not deeper. It also left lingering side effects that even death couldn’t dissipate, and then required EVEN MORE soul magic to get rid of. A nightmare. Dealing with one undead necromancer per month was already far too much. He couldn’t imagine dealing with something worse than a lich. It seemed impossible.
– *** –
Somewhere, in another Realm, The God of Chaos, who also happened to be God of Irony, looked down on a glowing screen and let out an evil chuckle. ~ It is impossible only if you believe it is. My friend. ~
– ***** –
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AHR AHR AHR! It is alive! Time moved. We are tomorrow! It isn’t Groundhog Day anymore! No wait, there wasn’t any loop… I’m just far too slow.
Oh well, nothing much else to say. I wanted to get the last information stuffy about the magic system out of the way. I hope the transitions were smooth enough, if not, I apologize.
No more mechanics description and more movement starting next chapter.
As always, thank you for reading and see you next chapter.
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