Chapter Two
The corridors were certainly wide enough, but they were dark, lit by only a couple of torches that lined the corridors in both directions. Every so often, Jackson would see a door that led to a room or another corridor. He didn’t see any other players, but it wasn’t long before he ran into trouble. Ahead of him, he saw two small creatures wielding clubs. They had on brown shifts and little else, and they were perhaps the ugliest creatures he had ever seen. Their skin was a sickening yellow-green; it reminded him of fresh puke on a hot day, and their teeth were jagged and jutting out of their mouths, yellow and sharp. Their features were twisted, as if someone had shoved puzzle pieces together that were not meant to fit. Their eyes were yellow, beady, and filled with maliciousness. Jackson focused on them and got a notification for it.
You have learned the skill Analyze (Apprentice Level 1). These two are level 5 goblins of the Jagged Crown Clan.
It was at this time that the two creatures—goblins, he supposed—noticed him. They began to speak, and though Jackson was certain they were not speaking his language, he understood them anyway.
“Lookit, Dahg, there’s one of them newbies the master brought in. We shoulds kills it like the masters said we shoulds.”
The goblin on the left pointed at Jackson. Dahgs, the one on the right, nodded his head in the affirmative.
“Yous right, Lugs, we shoulds. Come on, let's dos it.”
Jackson wasn’t entirely thrilled with their plan, so he swiftly considered his options. He could run, and they would likely chase him, or he could fight, in which case they could very well kill him. However, either of those was much better than simply standing here and allowing them to end him. He decided he would rather go down swinging; he wove his blood katana. The process was easier now; he merely had to brush his consciousness against his domain, and the threads of light and dark nothingness poured into him. He wove them together, and in the air, his blood katana appeared, settling into his hand.
Immediately, Jackson took a stance, right foot forward, left foot back and slightly raised. He held the katana in both hands. The knowledge was in his head, ingrained in his muscles, which seemed weird since he did not remember ever using any kind of sword before. Then again, he couldn’t remember ever using magic before, so that wasn’t saying much. However it got there, the knowledge was there. The goblins did not pay too much attention; they simply ran towards him. When they were close enough, Jackson moved, his footwork practiced, and, to be precise, he ended up on the side of the goblin on the right. His overhead strike split the goblin down the middle.
You have delivered a fatal blow to a level 5 goblin.
His partner whirled to face Jackson, seemingly not caring in the least that two halves of his partner had fallen to the ground with a sickening sound, green blood leaking from the two halves like a water hose with a hole in it. He simply stepped over his partner and tried to bash Jackson with his club. Smoothly, Jackson moved out of the way and slashed sideways with the speed of a viper's strike. The goblin’s head dropped to the ground like an apple falling from a tree, causing a thudding sound to echo around the corridor.
You have delivered a fatal blow to a level 5 goblin.
Your Katana skill (Apprentice Level 1) has increased to (Apprentice Level 3).
Your weave, Blood Katana (Apprentice Level 1), has increased to (Apprentice Level 4).
You have gained a level. Congratulations! You are now at level 2.
Jackson found nothing of importance about the goblins, which was more than a little disappointing. However, as he was looking around, he heard a faint, almost inaudible, pop. His head swiveled towards the sound, and there, barely a foot away from him, was a wooden chest. Jackson opened it without a second thought. He expected some kind of item, maybe a potion or something to that effect. Inside was a very simple, rolled-up brown scroll tied loosely with string. He picked it up, unrolled it, and when he did, a notification lit up within his mind.
You have been awarded a quest. Completing quests can lead to unique and often powerful rewards. The quest is as follows: Locate the hidden tomb of Lazarus. Lazarus’s tomb is within these catacombs and can be found by locating the hidden portal on the catacomb's first floor. Look for the mark of the fang.
A quest? Jackson rubbed his chin, chewing on his inner cheek. He had never heard of quests being a reward, but it sounded interesting enough. He needed to look for the mark of the fang. That could be anywhere! He sighed, running a hand through his hair. He guessed it was time to get moving. He dismissed his katana, and it unraveled before him, vanishing. Jackson left the corpses and chests where they were. He needed to move.
It was not long before Jackson came across a camp of goblins. It seemed they had taken over an entire corridor, which opened up into a larger room. He could see no other way forward. The best solution was probably to head back the way he had come; mostly all he had been doing was aimlessly wandering around anyway. He was sure there would be a way around. He was almost certain he could not defeat all of those goblins, not just with a sword. Scowling and reluctant, he turned his back and walked away from it.
Eventually, Jackson came to what looked like a door to him, but it was covered with three symbols. A rat, a monkey, and a serpent. Off to the right side, against the wall, were three pillars. These pillars each had three sides; the three sides all had either a rat, a monkey, or a serpent. Jackson rubbed his jaw as he considered. The pillars clearly moved as they were set into what looked like a rotating circular base etched with an arrow that pointed at the image. From the right, Jackson rotated a pillar, which took a surprising amount of strength to do, until the arrow was pointing at the image of a rat.
The pillar began to shake, and a cold blue light emanated from it and then flashed, causing Jackson to blink and look away. He heard a chittering sound and glanced back down the way he had come. Some ways down was a giant rat with a pink tail whipping about like a whip, cracking viciously when it hit the stone. When Jackson said giant, he meant it; the thing was larger than a wolf, and its beady red eyes glittered with undisguised hunger as it stared at him. Its fur was the color of mold on cheese, and it smelled rancid.
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Jackson's heart drummed, beating a panicked beat. He immediately began weaving his katana, summoning it into existence. At the same time, the rat leaped for him, hissing and spittle hitting his cheek, its wetness causing Jackson to wince slightly. Jackson dove and rolled underneath it as it slammed into the wall behind him, chittering angrily. It turned to glare at him. Jackson had come up to his feet out of the roll and faced it warily. The rat had a kind of intelligence in its eyes, and it was clearly aware of the katana he wielded and the danger it represented. Nevertheless, it approached him anyway, swiping at him with claws that gleamed in the torchlight.
Quick and sure, Jackson stepped to the side, ducking under the claws, then, with a forward step, he slashed downward with the blood katana, slicing into the right shoulder of the beast. Blood gushed from its wound, and it cried out at him in pained anger, but clearly, he had not struck a fatal blow. Jackson felt disappointment well up in his chest, as he genuinely expected it to die, and that was stupid of him because he paid for it as the rat’s clawed paw hit him like an oncoming truck. It slammed him into the wall, and he felt his head crack against the unyielding stone, blurring his vision and causing pain to rush through him like lightning. His breaths were ragged, his lungs struggling to push out air, and the tightness in his chest was choking him.
Jackson felt himself slump to the ground, thoughts fleeing his head as if from a burning building. What was he supposed to be doing again? He hurt so much. He shook his head, trying to clear his blurry vision and struggling to regain focus. When it finally did clear, the giant rat was in front of him, and it was opening its mouth wide; saliva dripped from its jagged and sickly yellow teeth; its breath smelled of rotten meat and eggs; and it was the last thing he saw before it chomped down on his head, red eyes shining with triumph. All Jackson could do was scream one final time.
You have died.
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Jackson woke up in a different place. Blinking, he glanced around and was surprised to find that he was standing. He took stock of himself, and he was wearing the same clothes he had started with. He ran his hands over them and then touched his face. He was alive, or perhaps this was the afterlife? But no, Jackson recognized the familiar old stone of the catacombs, though he could certainly see he was not in the same area. He stood on a golden rug etched with black abstract designs. The rug was huge, and yet Jackson was the only person on it. Notifications blinked within his mind. He opened them.
You have died.
You have been respawned in the dungeon's safe zone. You have two lives remaining.
Jackson groaned. The safe zone was not where he wanted to be, as it was two levels below the starting floor! He needed to get back there, which would present a challenge given that he did not know how he could accomplish that.
“Huh, we weren’t expecting one of you yet. Did you die already, laddie?”
Jackson flicked his eyes towards the voice and found himself face-to-face with a large orc. The orc was truly massive, with rippling muscles, polished, sharp tusks jetting from the bottom of his mouth, noble and strong-looking features, and blue eyes that glittered with merriment and intelligence. He wore a tan shirt that Jackson was genuinely shocked to see fit over his broad frame; he wore blue pants, sturdy brown boots, and a white smock over it all that was covered in what looked to Jackson like black soot. A truly massive hammer was at his side.
Jackson guessed the orc was used to reactions like his because the orc was smiling with amusement as Jackson openly gaped at him. He stuck out a massive hand.
“My name is Fredrick, though most just call me Fred.”
Jackson shook Fred's hand, and he had no doubt that it must have felt like shaking hands with a child on Fred's part.
“Jackson. Jackson Grey.”
Fred eyed Jackson, “From the looks of it, you haven't faced many challenges yet. I'm guessing you don't even have any EC yet, do you?”
Jackson raised an eyebrow, and his mouth twisted a bit as he asked, “Uh, what's EC?”
Fredrick chuckled, and the sound of it reminded Jackson of rolling thunder. He shook his great head and gestured at Jackson.
“I can tell we have some things to speak about; why not come to my tent?”
Jackson shrugged and followed Fredrick as they walked. The bazaar was an open area surrounded by gray stone walls in a circular shape. A gate led outward into the dungeon proper. In this open area were all kinds of tents and stalls set outside of them, and the tents were not the same. Some were large and bright green, others small and yellow, and some were barely even a tent at all. Jackson heard the sounds of hammering echoing against the walls, and other sounds mixed with that, creating a cacophony of different sounds that filled the air like some kind of discordant melody. Jackson did not see any of those that he had started with. Was he the only one to reach this area? The first to die, really? He felt his face heat up a little at that.
Fredrick's tent was blue and one of the larger ones; it was located on the outskirts of the circle, a little closer to the wall but one of the farthest away from the gate. A small forge stood outside the blue tent, smoke from a fire dying and trailing away from it in curling, almost merry circles. Jackson had always liked the smell of a dying fire. Fredrick opened the tent flap and held it open for him. Jackson walked through.
The inside of Fred's tent was a shop; weapons and pieces of armor were on mannequins; there were miscellaneous items on shelves; dried foodstuffs were on some of the other shelves. A medium-sized counter made of polished rich dark brown wood was tucked neatly to the side, very near the entrance. It was clearly the place to check out or negotiate the price of any of the items in the shop. Fred produced two chairs by the counter and gestured to them, clearly offering them to Jackson.
Jackson sat on it and was shocked to see that Fred fit on the other one, though it looked like he was merely sitting on the ground to Jackson. Fred took a breath.
“So, to answer your question, EC are Eden Coins, the currency in Eden. I take it you have not earned or found any.”
Jackson shook his head and looked around the shop. “Which is a shame; I wouldn't mind looking at some of these items.” He chuckled. Fred gave a chuckle himself.
“So, how did it happen?”
Jackson gave Fred a questioning look, and he smiled.
“Dying, lad. I don't see how else you would have gotten here otherwise.”
Jackson rubbed the back of his neck, “A giant rat bit my head off.”
Fred chuckled again. “Ah, not a great way to go. I suppose you'll be wanting to head back out soon.”
Jackson nodded, “I need to get back up there, actually. There's just so much I don't know, though. I am a fair hand with a katana, though clearly not fair enough, but I know nothing about this enchanting skill, and it's the only other skill I have!” Jackson threw up his hands.
Fred, for his part, eyed Jackson wide-eyed. “Ahh, did I do something wrong?” Jackson asked.
Fred shook his head, somewhat mutely. Finally, he said, “You're an enchanter?”
Jackson raised his hands and shoulders, “Maybe? It says I have the skill, but I don't have any idea how to use it.”
Fred gave a great belly laugh. “Well then, I shall tell you, lad. In fact, I think we can help each other.”