‘Kill him?’ I repeated. ‘You want to kill him? You can’t kill a Player, they’re basically gods! Even back when I had all my skills, I wouldn’t’ve stood a chance. And now? Armed with a gods-forsaken butter knife? Just how am I gonna do something like that?’
Val stood with an artificially patient expression as I spoke. ‘Are you quite done?’
‘That wasn’t a rant, that was a perfectly reasonable summary of the situation. So don’t look at me like that.’
The sorcerer continued to look at me like that. ‘Well you’re not going to be using a butter knife, are you? Or did you think we weren’t gonna train you up before we go do some a-Player-slaying?’
‘Oh, good. So I’ll be using, what, a chef’s knife? Maybe even a short sword?’
‘I was thinking a great sword, but… sure, whatever floats your boat.’
I raised my hands in the air in mock defeat. ‘Ah! A great sword. A great sword versus a spawn of the Architects. That’ll do it!’
‘I mean, I can teach you some spellwork if that’s more your—’
‘I think you’re fixating on the wrong thing!’ I said. ‘It’s the lack of experience that’s the issue here. Even with this buff I got going on, I don’t think that’s gonna be changing any time soon—not enough to kill a Player!’
Val’s artificially patient expression began to wane. ‘Yes, you said that.’
‘I’ve got no skin in this fight! I don’t want—’
‘Woah,’ Val said, begging for me to stop with raised palms. ‘Woah, woah, woah. Did he not try to kill you?’
‘Yes, but—’
‘Do you not want revenge?’
‘Revenge?’ I repeated.
‘Yeah, revenge. Vengeance. Justice. Whatever you wanna call it.’
‘Sure, I want justice. But I’m not suicidal! I know what happens if we go down this path. We—’
‘OK,’ Val cut in. ‘Here’s the deal. You’re gonna come with me, back to Plainside. On the way, we’ll fight some monsters. Together. We’ll get you sorted with some basic skills. And I reckon that by the time we get there, I’ll be able to convince you.’
‘And when you don’t?’
‘Then you’re free to go. What, you think I was gonna hold you prisoner?’
I hesitated. There wasn’t a chance in any of the many hells that she was going to convince me, but I didn’t mind the idea of getting some help while I got my first few skills levelled up; that’d come in handy.
‘What’s there to lose?’ Val prompted me. ‘You’re gonna need someone to hunt with if you gonna get those combat skills back up. Tell me, what did you use? You strike me as an archery sorta guy. Or one-handed.’ She paused. ‘Two-handed?’
‘Knifework,’ I replied.
Val raised her eyebrows. ‘Knifework.’
‘Something wrong with that?’
‘No, it’s just—’
‘I was in a very specific line of business.’
‘You were…’ Val started, ‘...a hitman?’ Something changed behind her eyes; whereas before there’d always been this joy in them, there was now something else. Not fear, not quite, but…
‘What?’ I replied. ‘Gods, no. I was a thief. And a pretty good one, at that.’
‘So you didn’t kill people?’
‘Nobody that didn’t deserve it.’
‘And how many did deserve it?’ Val asked.
‘At last count? Twenty-two.’
* * *
We departed the Hound & Hound later in the morning, after a hearty breakfast—paid for by Val—over which she spoke enthusiastically about how she was going to have my mind changed by lunchtime. I’d nodded along, not really listening, instead thinking about my path to regrowth. There were so many abilities I’d not chosen over the years, only to never get another chance to unlock them whenever I reached another 5-level increment in the associated skill. Now, I had a do-over—I could make the right choices.
Our stomachs full of oily, fried goodness, we set out southeast, towards Plainside and the just-about-still-rising sun. There was no danger of travelling in silence, not with Val’s perpetually open mouth, and I zoned out while she spoke about a bear she’d once known or something along those lines—the details escaped me.
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There was something different about the air on this morning. It was almost supernaturally crisp, it seemed, the low autumn sun having boiled off the last of the most recent rains. The—
‘Are you listening?’ Val asked.
‘Yes.’
‘What was I talking about?’
I hesitated for a moment. ‘A bear?’
Val’s eyes grew wide. ‘That was almost an hour ago! Is this what travelling with you is going to be like? Trying to draw blood from a golem?’
‘I got a lot on my mind!’
‘Yeah, or too small a mind, I think,’ came the snappy response. ‘Not enough capacity.’
I remained silent; I was beginning to realise it was simpler this way, as it didn’t give her anything to retort to.
‘What you thinking about, then?’ she asked. ‘Tell us.’
‘The weather,’ I started, and then—realising that this was only going to lead Val to believe I did have a tiny mind—added, ‘and my progression choices.’
‘Oh yeah? You decided on a combat skill yet?’
‘Is that all you care about? Combat?’
Val made a noise as if she was offended, placing a hand to her chest. ‘Of course not! But it’s what’s gonna keep you, you know, alive, isn’t it? We can work on your Needlework and Baking skills later, yeah?’
‘I didn’t ever mention either of those,’ I replied. ‘Or did you think I was the sort to settle down in a quiet village, begin a long-burn romance, and maybe open a… a…’
‘A cafe?’
‘Sure,’ I said, flinging my hands up with exasperation. ‘No, I’m a thief by trade and that’s always gonna be the case.’
Val smiled. ‘You know, when some people go through traumatic events, they rethink their life choices.’
‘Oh, I’ve rethought them, alright. I’m gonna make some real big changes, and be a far better thief than I ever was before. I’ll work hard, I’ll pick better abilities, I’ll level up multiple combat skills—not just one. You know how many times I got in situations where there were no daggers handy? Plenty of swords, bows and what-have-you, though. But I hadn’t levelled any of those up, had I, so I was useless.’
Val held a knowing smile on her face.
‘No, I’m gonna have a broader skill set this time around. Maybe pick up a bow, or figure out some bareknuckle abilities. I don’t know yet.’
‘Not too broad, though, eh?’ Val said. ‘Don’t want you spreading yourself too thin, get yourself to level 50 and be barely able to handle a level 20 enemy.’
‘Sure. Two of them. Maybe three. That’s what I was thinking about, while you were talking about your bear pals.’
‘I didn’t say they were my pals. Or that there was more than one of them. You really weren’t listening at all, were you?’
I waved a hand at the sorcerer dismissively. ‘Whatever, then. The point is, I got a lot to work out, so… sorry if I wasn’t paying enough attention.’
Val paused mid-opening her mouth, as though the apology had completely derailed whatever retort was coming. Instead, she only mumbled, ‘Is OK.’
The pair of us continued in silence for a minute or two—only a minute or two—before Val spoke once more, and I was beginning to think that was the closest I’d get to peace with her around.
‘So you’ve decided on any of those combat skills yet?’
‘Yes,’ I replied, hand touching the dagger at my belt, ‘knifework.’
‘Hardly pushing the boat out, is it?’
I shrugged. ‘It’s what I know. I don’t wanna change too much; the way I see it, being able to make better ability selections is a gift—if I level up different skills then I’m just going in blind again.’
‘I keenly await your next, more interesting, decision.’
‘...Thank you?’ This wasn’t the first backhanded compliment I’d received from Val, but still I didn’t yet quite know how to respond to them.
‘No problem.’
Again, silence fell, and more comfortable this time, too. I was beginning to think my earlier assessment was incorrect, that I would get more peace travelling with Val than I’d thought.
‘So…’ Val finally said, shattering any illusions I had about this period of peace and quiet lasting. ‘When do you think you wanna get training?’
I gestured an upturned palm to the quiet woodlands around us. ‘Do you see anything I could fight?’
‘Well, no, but I’m sure we could—’
‘Exactly. Soon as we find something—something I’m able to fight—I’ll get right on that.’
‘Styk…’
‘And no, I won’t get ahead of myself. Like I said back in the dungeons, I’m gonna take it slow.’
‘Styk…’ Val tried again.
‘I’m thinking really slow; even the weakest enemy should give me plenty of experience points what with this Sisyphus—’
‘Styk!’ the sorcerer cried out.
‘What!’
In the rare silence that followed, my ears pricked up. Coming from behind me—close behind me—was a growl.
"Styk"
Level 3 Peasant
Base Stats:
Vitality — 2
Intelligence — 5
Dexterity — 4
Strength — 1
Wisdom — 8
Charisma — 0
Skills:
Identification — Level 4
Knifework — Level 1
Stealth — Level 1
Abilities:
Slice (Knifework) — Slice the enemy for physical damage worth weapon’s base damage and additional damage scaling on [STR].
Basic Stealth Attack (Stealth) — Passive. 10% boost to damage when unnoticed by enemy.
Basic Identification (Identification) — Discover basic attributes for a particular object or person. Ability scales with [WIS] + [INT].
Active Effects:
Legacy of Sisyphus:
XP gain increased by +400%