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The Last Hero of Allerion
Chapter 17 - Level 3

Chapter 17 - Level 3

Chapter Seventeen – Level 3

“—and then he just STOOD there while I was DYING! Like, what the heck? Does he not see I’m getting torn to bits by that stupid monster? What is he? A psychopath?”

It felt good to shout. Tara didn’t generally like to raise her voice, but since she had come to Allerion, she was getting used to putting up with things she didn’t like. It actually felt good to let out all the pent-up frustration she had been feeling since her arrival.

Since she had returned to Shieldmistress’s Vale, the first benefit Tara noticed was that all her injuries automatically healed. She felt more herself again, bursting with energy.

“I’m sure Acalon would have stepped in if you had been in serious danger,” Altheria reassured her.

The Shieldmistress’s calming undertone only excited Tara’s temper.

“I was ALREADY in SERIOUS danger!” she yelled. “I was literally tasting blood. I passed out.”

“But you’re safe now,” said the elf in the same assured voice. “Come, Tara MacQueen. The fight is over and you are safe. The grimp is dead and believe me, Acalon is far from as unaffected as you believe him to be. After all, he did just see you vanish into thin air. Even for a dragon rider of the Skor, that is an incredible sight.”

“How do you know?” asked Tara eagerly. “Can you see him or something?”

“I see all the world,” said Altheria vaguely. “Its coming and goings.” She added, seeing the look on Tara’s face, “I cannot show you, Hero. You must discover its mysterious on your own.”

“Well that’s not fair!” said Tara. “You said yourself I’m not like the other heroes. After what I went through, I think the least I deserve is a little satisfaction.”

“I’m afraid all I can offer in satisfaction is another upgrade to your stats, now that you have achieved Level 3,” said Altheria. “Where would you like to put your new points?”

Tara bit back a snarky reply. The Shieldmistress didn’t deserve to be the brunt of her anger, and she appreciated the elf’s willingness to listen.

“Here is a review of your current statistics,” said Altheria, and a an image appeared next the fair elf with Tara’s point distribution.

Character Name

Class Details

Base Stats

Tara MacQueen

Borzerk - A human race primarily settled in the flatlands of Grayscape and the crags of the Windrake cliffs. They are a savage people who love war, and have been known to form raiding parties against the Skor, although they prefer to attack their nearest neighbors, the trolls.

Stamina: 150

Strength: 150

Intelligence: 80

Dexterity: 130

Magic: 30

Special Skill: Bloodrage - when a Borzerk succumbs to bloodrage, they are able to fight with +50 strength and sustain terrible injuries for a short period of time. Cost: -100 stamina.

“You have ten new points to spend,” suggested Altheria. “Will you be adding to dexterity again?”

Tara considered. Usually she preferred a rogue build, capable of dexterity and stamina. A stealth archer suited her usual gameplay. But currently, she had no bow, and frankly she had been interested in bows because of Acalon.

Just the thought of the dragon rider made her grind her teeth.

“Intelligence,” she muttered under her breath. “That’s what I need.”

“Done.”

“NO!” Tara hadn’t meant for the Shieldmistress to act on her rebellious muttering. “Can I take it back?”

“You said you needed intelligence,” replied the elf reprovingly. “I’m sorry, but no choice, once made, can be taken back.”

“Agh.” Tara gripped her hair in frustration.

“If it helps, I think you made a wise choice—considering,” said the Shieldmistress. The smile in her voice was unmistakable.

“Just tell me what skill I can unlock now,” groaned Tara, refusing to look at her.

“I’m afraid there are no new skills to unlock. You need more points. When you reach 100 intelligence, I do recommend investing in the Charisma skill set. Your character could certainly use a few persuasive techniques.”

Tara huffed.

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“The best way to level up is to continue to defeat foes and complete quests,” urged the Shieldmistress. “As much as you didn’t enjoy it, killing the grimp certainly gave you an early boost. But you seem to have forgotten the other benefits of defeating foes.”

The tall, fair elf walked away from the iron tree gleaming with the crystals of various locked skills, and led Tara to a silver chest.

“As you defeat enemies and add accomplishments to your name,” said the Shieldmistress, “you will be blessed with the ability to purchase and unlock new items and equipment.”

When Altheria opened the chest, Tara’s eyes widened at the silver beam that radiated from inside. After all she had seen, you wouldn’t think she could be more surprised. But the last thing Tara expected was to see the outline of Ikor the Skorge floating in a ghostly silhouette.

“All Ikor’s items are available for you to purchase with silver,” said the Shieldmistress. “Silver can also be used at stores in Allerion. But only here, in this location, are you able to buy loot that would otherwise be unavailable.”

There were text boxes next to Acalon’s head, arms, torso, legs, and feet. Tara read:

Armor Category

Type

Skill Requirement

Stats

Skorge Armor

Horned Helmet

Strength: 150

Defense: +50 Strength

Enchantment: Immunity to illusions

Cost: 3000 Silver

Skorge Armor

Rawhide Jerkin

Strength: 120

Defense: +30 Strength

Additional: +10 Stamina

Enchantment: None

Cost: 2000 Silver

Skorge Armor

Rawhide Trousers

Strength: 110

Defense: +5 Strength

Addition: +5 Stamina

Enchantment: None

Cost: 1000 Silver

Skorge Armor

Hide Boots

Strength: 100

Defense: +10 Strength

Addition: + 5 Stamina

Enchantment: None

Cost: 1500 Silver

CURRENT BALANCE: 50 SILVER

“Sheesh. That’s pretty expensive. I'll have to kill a lot of grimps to make that kind of silver." Tara frowned, drumming her finger on her lip. “So if I kill Acalon, his armor set will be available for me to purchase, too?” At the Shieldmistress’s look, she threw up her hands. “Not that I’m thinking of murdering him! But is that an option?”

“Yes,” said the elf. “The killing of a named NPC can occasionally yield unique treasures. But remember that if you attack Acalon, you will also have to face his dragon.”

“I could do that,” said Tara. “Eventually.”

Altheria actually smiled. “Yes, hero, I believe you could.”

“I remember that in my game there was a companionship gauge as well,” said Tara. “Was it referred to as loyalty? Friendship?”

“Loyalty,” said the Shieldmistress. “Yes. It’s specific to NPCs that can become your followers. You can review those stats here.”

Character Name

Min Loyalty

Current Loyalty

Max Loyalty

Acalon

0

50

200

Elita

0

110

200

Horon

0

110

200

Wenrik

0

110

200

“Does it have to be alphabetical?” muttered Tara.

“Trust takes time,” said the Shieldmistress. “When your game first started, Elita, Horon, and Wenrik did not know whether to be afraid of you or accept you either.”

“Great,” said Tara.

The elf took Tara by the shoulders, looking into her face.

“Heed my advice, Tara MacQueen,” she said. “You are able to see things others do not, and understand what others may one day realize. Your loyalty is already maxed out for these characters who you have apparently just met. I don’t think you will give up on Acalon after your second meeting.”

“That’s the thing,” said Tara, turning away. “That wasn’t supposed to be our second meeting.”

“What do you mean?”

Tara sat down in the soft cloud of the Vale. Wisps of fine mist drifted through her fingers and swirled like gentle smoke.

“In the game, he doesn’t follow me out of Regan Harbor,” said Tara. “We don’t meet again until I locate and collect some spineless fish. Then he reappears at a random location. I give him the fish. He’s impressed. He acknowledges that I might be a warrior, and suggests that I go check out a bandit hideaway if I think I’m up to it. It goes on like that for some time—just meeting, him suggesting that I go somewhere to do some new brave deed—before he begins to recognize me for who I am. A hero.”

Tara shrugged, feeling suddenly impotent. “This is completely random and weird. I mean—it’s not normal, is it?”

The Shieldmistress frowned, thinking. “I…I don’t understand myself,” she said. Her blue eyes narrowed. “It could possibly have something to do with the nature of your coming. Your very existence in-game might have caused an anomaly in the algorithm.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means, Tara MacQueen,” said the elf, “that this is beyond either of us. Perhaps you truly are the Last Hero of Allerion.”

“I don’t even know what that means!”

“You heard the prophecy.”

“I know I’m expected to save Allerion from some kind of ‘oblivion.’ But the only thing I can think of is the shutdown…” Tara’s voice died. She stared at the Shieldmistress in shock. “Is that the doom the prophecy is talking about? The shutdown?”

“Perhaps,” said the Shieldmistress. “I admit I do not know what this shutdown is that you speak of.”

“And I can stop it,” whispered Tara. “How can that be true when I’m actually inside the game? I can’t control what technicians do!”

“Perhaps you can.” Tara felt herself inclining towards Altheria’s reassuring calm. “There are many things in this, Hero, that I doubt even you have begun to understand.”

Tara shook her head. When had the CEO said Swords of Allerion would go offline? Six months. How long had she been here? A few days, maybe…

“I don’t know what to do,” she whispered. “All of this feels so familiar yet completely different. It’s insane. How can this be real?”

“Perhaps,” suggested Altheria, “you should stop asking ‘how.’ Perhaps a better question is ‘why.’ You are here, Tara, for a reason. The only way to solve this mystery is to be in the thick of it.”

Tara raised her head, questioning.

“Allerion needs you,” murmured the Shieldmistress.

Tara didn’t know why those words should make her twist inside. She blinked rapidly and forced herself to her feet.

“Alright,” she said. “I’m ready. Wait!” She caught herself before she could be swept out of the Vale. “Just tell me one thing first. Acalon. Is it all over now? I mean, he saw me level up.”

The Shieldmistress raised her hand in farewell. “Acalon’s choices are his own,” she said, “as are yours. Go, Hero of Allerion, and Maker be with you.”