Sharkie was so close to Level 10—she could feel it. She and Manuele had ripped through the quests from Fisherman Thomas and were now on their way east, red eyes and purple under an overcast sky in the neon green fog. Of course, it wasn’t really fog—they knew that now—but she didn’t know what it was, other than just strange.

‘Strange’ could be said about pretty much everything in this place. Yesterday, the old man had sent them diving for lobster traps. Manuele had waited on the shore. She didn’t understand it, but somehow her friend was afraid of the ocean. He’d mumbled something about sharks and slime, maybe octopuses too.

She’d shrugged and waded in, in her skivvys. And then, inside the traps, she hadn’t found lobsters at all. Instead, she’d found bottles of sunscreen with lobster decals. Weird, but they’d counted for the quest. So, she’d brought back enough for both of them and they got their XP.

And now, the next morning, she was headed into the unknown. The old man had informed them that this was the last quest he had to offer. They were to go find a friend of his. He’d said something about this friend having “put down roots.” Thomas’ sadness had washed over Sharkie around that point and she’d tuned him out. She was not a fan of the Crippling Empathy skill that came with her violet eyes.

More like an anti-skill, she’d decided.

“Hey,” said Manuele, pointing into the mist with one sword.

Something was moving up ahead, bright green, but more solid than the fog. It looked gelatinous and almost shiny, like some sort of giant sea goo from Manuele’s nightmares. Sharkie pulled her crossbow from her inventory. Her footsteps softly crunched on the dead grass while green mist swirled around her wide yellow pant legs. It rose thicker and higher here than in the forest or near the shore.

The blob bounced up and down, like wiggling Jello the size of an ottoman. It had no mouth or eyes, it just jiggled. She started to second guess whether it was alive. Then Manuele charged in, swords held high, yelling “Aaaaaaah!” Sometimes, that man was a lunatic.

Sharkie shrugged and loosed a Shadow Strike bolt. Her heads-up display appeared, along with red text above the blob that said ‘Goo.’ The dark purple glow pulsed around the crossbow bolt, lodged halfway into the creature. She shot another. The health line under ‘Goo’ was going down fast.

Then Sharkie laid down her Basic Trap. A precaution in case it somehow sprouted legs and ran at her.

Manuele’s attacks seared bright red afterimages into the air. They matched his eyes.

She shot another glowing bolt.

Manuele blurred to the left, trailing pale shadows of his image. Then he struck with Blood Slash again.

Sharkie shot a final Shadow Strike and the goo slumped, name turning gray.

‘2,000 XP’ appeared in the familiar white transparent text, becoming more and more see-through as it floated up. She waited for it to disappear.

Any time now, Sharkie thought, hoping for Level 10.

Manuele’s Blur skill looked super cool. If she was honest, she was a bit jealous. Her Dragon Breath skill was disappointing. Curiosity had gotten the better of her with her Level 9 Skill Point. The wording on that skill was so ambiguous. She could make it work—kind of—but it just breathed out a little puff of purple and green that didn’t seem to do much.

The only thing she could think of was that it was confused about her Aspects. The skill said ‘Expel an attack consistent with your most recently acquired Aspect.’ She had read it at least twenty times.

After the first few failed attempts, she’d investigated her Aspects Menu and noted the three empty slots. She’d gotten her Shadow and Trap Aspects at the same time, so maybe that meant she didn’t have one most recent Aspect and that was the problem. If she could figure out how to add another Aspect in one of the empty slots, then maybe it would work.

Dragon Breath also didn’t seem to have much range. Her Shadow Strike would work with melee weapons too, so she toyed with the idea of switching to daggers or swords. Her class could use them, she just hadn’t gotten any drops. Ideally, she’d like to hot-swap between them, like toggling between guns in a shooter. Technically she could change gear mid-fight but the inventory window blocked her view and scrolling was cumbersome. There had to be a better way.

“Earth to Sharkie,” Manuele said.

“Yeah, dude.”

“The goo?”

“Uh, yeah,” she said, walking up to loot.

If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

“Anything good?” he asked, spreading both hands, which dangled his swords.

“Nah, more junk and CCs.”

“Boo. Me too.”

Six slimes and a good clip later, they arrived at the location marked on their map. It was near the base of a tall leaning tower. It had been a while, but Sharkie was pretty sure it was The Leaning Tower. The spot on the map looked slightly beside it, so she didn’t think they were supposed to go in. But the only thing outside it was a medium-height tree with a trunk that was almost too large to stretch her arms around.

It was a weird spot for a tree, especially since the few others they’d seen were dead—but she was expecting more strangeness. The green fog swirled thickly around its base. A full canopy of round leaves hung above. Its trunk was dark with moisture and hung with what she thought was lichen or maybe moss.

“Huh,” she said, reaching out to touch one of the green tufts.

“Mind coming round?” a British man’s voice said.

She jumped back in surprise, then looked at Manuele. He shook his head fervently and made an ‘I don’t know’ gesture with his hands.

“Come on. Over here,” the voice called.

“Do you think it’s the tree?” Manueue whispered.

“Well, of course, it’s the tree, you dolt!” the British voice scolded. “Come round, please.”

Sharkie pressed her lips together and made big eyes, then she nodded to the side of the tree. She strode round, as requested.

Manuele shrugged and followed her.

On the other side of the trunk, the tree had a face. It had bushy black eyebrows and a prominent mustache that curled at the tips. It was a British hipster man tree.

Is this what happens to vegans?

“Much better!” the tree declared, then wiggled his nose. “Could you, uh, get that for me?” He wiggled his nose again.

Sharkie hesitantly reached up and rubbed the nose-shaped bark in the middle of his face.

“That’s the spot! Once more?”

She stroked it again, then stepped back, fighting a grimace. The Leaning Tower loomed tall in the background.

“Ah,” he said with a sigh. “Much better. It’s been days since I’ve seen anyone. Thank you, traveler. To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Oh, well Fisherman Thomas sent us,” Manuele said. Then he adopted a far-off stare.

Sharkie knew that look. She took her turn. “Fisherman Thomas sent us,” she said.

Everything blurred except Sharkie and the tree. It was almost like she’d been drawn in closer.

“Welcome, welcome, traveler,” the hipster tree said. “I am Herbert. I used to go fishing with Thomas occasionally, but now I’m a little rooted in place. See what I did there?” He smiled expectantly.

“Uh huh,” she said flatly. “What happened?”

“See that green stuff? The abbey calls it gravemist. They used to send people to check up on me. It’s been so long…” he trailed off and Sharkie wondered if that was it. But then he started up again. “Well, now, you have found me. You have found me, indeed.”

The blur broke and ‘486,000 XP’ floated away.

Then Sharkie began to glow. She whooped. Soft tingles spread throughout her body. White brightness obscured her view. Then it dimmed just in time to see the trail of text fade away: ‘Level 10,’ ‘5 Stat Points,’ ‘1 Skill Point,’ ‘Choose Specialization.’

“Yes!” She jumped, fist in the air.

Then her Aspects Menu opened on its own, hanging black in the air in front of her. Two gems dimly glowed at the bottom of the window, like the options had in the white room where sound was weird. The gems were purple and green—the same purple and green as the ones she already had. She could see them slotted above, glowing more brightly but the same shape and color.

“Hey, man, you get this too?” she asked.

“What is going on?” Manuele said.

“Same gems as before?”

“Yeah, I have red and blue? I don’t get it.”

Sharkie concentrated on being confused about the gems at the bottom. And then a small tooltip-like window popped up, as she’d hoped. It said, ‘Choose one Aspect to specialize your class. Shadow (Rogue). Trap (Hunter).’ She tried to will more information into existence; it didn’t work.

“Did you get the mini-window?” she asked. “If you think about the bottom gems. Mine says the options are rogue and hunter. Think it wants us to pick.”

“Oh…” said Manuele slowly. Then he reported, “Knight or berserker for me.”

“Did you find any more info?”

Silence. She imagined he was shaking his head.

“Hey tree dude,” she tried. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about these classes would you?”

“Hello, traveler!” the tree said excitedly, as the blur rushed in and Sharkie’s menu snapped closed. “Fancy meeting you here! Have I got a quest for you!”

“Can you tell me about rogues or hunters?”

The tree’s face was frozen in an expectant grin.

“Guess not,” she muttered. “Okay, give me the quest.”

“Wonderful, traveler! You must take a message to the abbey for me. I’ve got it somewhere up…” he strained his eyes up to his right. “Up, up. There should be a scroll. Can you reach it?”

Sharkie leaned in and peered up into his branches and, sure enough, there was a scroll high above. It was balanced just beyond where she thought she could reach. She withdrew her crossbow from her inventory.

“Oh, careful with that thing,” the tree cautioned.

She reached up and used the weapon to knock the scroll to the ground. It landed behind the tree. She walked around to retrieve it, the world still a blur.

She was barely on the other side when he called, “Come back!”

“Hold your horses,” Sharkie said, returning a moment later.

“Oh, good,” said the tree. “Now, take that to the abbey and ask for Sister Mary.”

The blur dissolved; Manuele and the tower became visible.

“Figure anything out?” Sharkie asked him.

“I have berserker powers!” Manuele declared with swords held high.

“Uh huh. Um, tree dude has the next quest. Sending us to a new spot so, we can do it and keep looking for Maria.”

Manuele’s sadness hit her like a truck. She almost doubled over for a moment, and then it receded.

Note to self, don’t mention Maria while standing.

She opened her Aspects Menu again, and then closed it, to review her Skills Menu. Her attack and heal both came from the Shadow Aspect, as did a Concealment skill that was supposed to make her ‘20% more stealthy’—at least that’s what it claimed. She flipped to the Trap tab: Smokescreen and Basic Trap. Which one did she want more of?

She opened the Aspects Menu again. Did ‘rogue’ mean rebel? If she went ‘hunter’ what would she hunt? She tried to conjure memories from TV and movies. Aragorn kept popping into her head, but he wasn’t a rogue, he was a ranger. That didn’t seem right.

“Well, screw it,” she said and started to glow deep purple.