Chapter Twenty-Eight

Cyrus wiped the black goop on his blade onto the grass before carefully sliding it back into the sheath at his thigh.

“We might as well get moving,” he said to an array of grumbles. “What? You’re all planning on going back to sleep after that?” That promptly shut them all up. He had a point.

Moira gathered her things, placing them back into her Inventory.

Next to her, Ethan pulled a blanket around his wings and muttered to himself as they started walking. With their mounts gone, the realization that they’d have to all the walk to Mons Caput sunk in. Moira groaned at the thought, throwing her head back.

Sloane, unaware of her recent realization, bounded up to her, barraging her with questions about her Looting skill. Moira tuned her out as she watched Cyrus, who strode ahead of the group. The form of his broad shoulders stretched the fabric of his tunic, a glimmer of sweat dripped off his powerful forearm. She dragged her eyes away from him, shifting her focus back to whatever Sloane had been yapping on about.

Sloane’s mouth tilted into a half grin as she looked between her and Cyrus. She opened her mouth and Moira interrupted. “Don’t”

“But—”

“He just wants me to join the team. I can’t trust him.”

A look of understanding flashed across Sloane’s face.

“Okay.”

Moira turned her attention to her character sheet. Pulling it up while they walked.

Name: Moira Thompson

Race: Unavailable

Racial Abilities: Looting, Inventory

Class: Ranger

Level: 16

Health: 108/108

Stamina: 90/96

Mana: 89/89

Core Traits

Strength:27

Constitution:25

Dexterity:38

Intelligence:35

Wisdom:18

Charisma:16

Class Skills

Creeping Vines lvl 1

General Skills 

Tripping lvl 1, Weapon Making lvl 2, Dodging lvl 3, Spear Basics lvl 3, Analyze lvl 5, Sword Basics lvl 2, Archery lvl 6, Mana Blast lvl 2

Titles

Dungeon Discoverer

Companion 

Name: Duke Thompson 

Race: Dog

Level: 8

Skills: Bark lvl 3, Misdirect lvl 2, Scouting lvl 3, Dodging lvl 2, Biting lvl 5

Companion Abilities: Mind Walker 

Attribute Points: 10 points

It’d been a while since she’d reviewed her whole character sheet. The Companion animal section had expanded to include his skills. Her old title was gone and replaced with the Dungeon Discoverer title. Looking over her stats, she could see her constitution and strength sliding down compared to her dexterity and intelligence.

From her class description, the Ranger class seemed like it worked best when balanced. The class was like a mix between fighter, rogue, and mage, and her stats needed to reflect that. Her class points had already brought up her dexterity, intelligence, and, to a lesser degree, strength, with every level. Now, she just needed to balance out the rest. After some thought, she added 5 points to constitution, 3 to strength, and 1 each to wisdom and charisma.

Health: 134/134

Stamina: 90/96

Mana: 89/89

Core Traits

Strength:30

Constitution:30

Dexterity:38

Intelligence:35

Wisdom:19

Charisma:17

The surge of energy ran through her as she adjusted to the additional stats. Moira clenched her hands into fists, feeling the new strength that rippled beneath the surface. She pulled out her new bow, running her hand gracefully against its surface. It hummed back, a ping at the edge of her mind.

Moira pulled back on her bowstring, getting a feel for the additional strength. It felt smoother as she pulled back. According to Fendrik, the bow would continue to adjust to her current strength. Adding additional counterweight as she leveled.

The rest of the day continued with little excitement. Ethan flew up ahead to scout out the road, while the rest of them switched between spurts of running. They were limited by the person with the least amount of stamina, which happened to be Sloane, to her utter disappointment.

The road began veering west, and more signs of civilization became visible. A tilted house at the edge of a field, lights flickering far in the distance. They’d even approached a small village made up of a couple of scattered homes and a town center. They passed by the outskirts of it, trying to avoid it all together. The elves could still be following them, and a night in town would make them that much easier to follow.

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They finally stopped to camp for the night when the suns set.

Cyrus stopped Moira as she laid down her sleeping mat.

“You have a sword,” he stated, glancing down at the short sword strapped to her leg.

“Yes.”

“Was it cheap?”

“It was the reward for the Analyze quest. It seems fine to me.”

“May I?”

“Sure.” She gingerly handed over the blade.

Cyrus slid his hand down the length of the blade. He glanced up at her and then slid his thumb along the edge. When he pulled away, a thin line of blood dripped from his finger.

“It’s sharp. That’s good.”

He hefted it in his hand, holding out the blade, checking its balance. He grunted once. In approval or dissatisfaction, Moira wasn’t sure.

Cyrus darted forward suddenly, swinging the blade with clear precision.

“Well?” Moira finally asked.

“It’s a good blade. Well-balanced. Sharp. The reach could be better, but my preference always leans toward a longer blade. Better reach can save your life.”

He threw it to Moira. She darted forward, barely catching the hilt before it hit the ground.

“The real test is how it fits you.” Cyrus unsheathed his own blade.

“Now?” Moira asked, fighting the urge to groan. The day of running had left her ready to collapse.

“We’re here to train. You’re way behind in learning to wield a blade. If we’re in a fight, we need to trust that you’ll be able to have our backs.”

He didn’t let her argue before darting forward. She just barely raised her sword in time to stop his blade as it clanged against hers loudly.

“Your reflexes are better. More because of your added dexterity than practice.”

He stepped forward, correcting her footwork.

“You need to move lightly. You’re not as strong, so you need to be fast.” He adjusted her left leg. “Not so stiff. You’re locking your knees.”

They kept at it until Moira finally collapsed onto the ground, exhausted, but grinning. Sword Basics had leveled up to level 4.

“Sloane,” Cyrus called. “Your turn. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Moira just barely willed herself to turn her head and watch as Sloane expertly unsheathed two dangerously long knives from her waist. A daring grin flashed across her face.

Sloane was fast.

Moira watched in awe as her friend darted forward and back, almost nicking Cyrus’ arm. Cyrus still soundly beat her in the end, but it was clear that Sloane wouldn’t be limiting the team in a fight. Not like she would.

Moira leaned back, staring up at the stars, noting the constellations Cyrus had shown her. Whether she found a way home at Mons Caput or not. She needed to amp it up, improve her fighting skills. She wasn’t a Mage. She was a Ranger. And while she’d survived the Dungeon, more through luck than anything, her archery and sword fighting had played an important part in her survival.

She pushed to her feet, swaying slightly. “Let’s go again.”

Cyrus grinned.

The next morning, they rose quickly and headed on the road. They continued in this pattern for the next couple of days. Waking early, running in spurts, practicing sword fighting, and collapsing into bed. She’d finally reached level 6 in sword basics the night before. Making her Archery and Sword Basics skills tied at level 6 for her highest skills.

On the sixth day of traveling, they passed by a town. This was the largest one they’d passed so far. Just big enough that a couple of travelers wouldn’t be deemed suspicious at the local tavern.

Moira and Sloane were sick of sleeping on the ground and were both craving a real bath, as opposed to the cleaning crystals. Myles quickly agreed, overruling the rest of the group. Cyrus had argued that the Governor’s elves could still be following them, but the three of them had pushed back. They hadn’t seen any sign of them in days and they wouldn’t be as noticeable in a town this size.

The town was only a day or two outside of Mons Caput. The once red and dusty ground had transformed into a dark and rocky terrain. As they moved, the forest around them diminished, with fewer and shorter trees, as if they struggled to grow tall in the rocky soil. A stone wall surrounded the town, only several feet tall. A single guard stood at the entrance; he had a bored expression on his face as he waved them through.

The town was a collection of dark wood buildings and gray stone. Only a few people were out and about. Mostly dwarves, each sporting long plaited beards, but also a couple of humans. Evening was falling and most of the townspeople were already home for the night. Lanterns followed the main road through the quiet town, creating a hazy orange glow across the road.

The six of them followed the main street until they reached a tavern. It was made from dark red wood, the sign outside a picture of a bull’s head with the name Larry’s written in black block lettering.

Cyrus pushed open the door, the rest of them following behind. The inside reminded Moira of a typical Irish bar back home. Lots of dark wood and black leather stools. Lanterns were placed haphazardly around the bar, providing some meager light. Behind the bar stood a man. From the neck down, he appeared human; from the neck up, however—well, the sign suddenly made more sense.

Sloane whispered in her ear, “He’s a Minotaur. They’re normal in this area.” Moira nodded to her and looked back at the man behind the bar.

The man greeted them brightly, “Just lookin for a meal or some rooms?”

“Rooms and some food would be great.” Ethan said as he took a seat at the bar. The tavern was quiet. Only a couple of patrons were spread out throughout the place. Cyrus grabbed a table off to the side as Ethan negotiated for the rooms. The rest of them settled down around a round wooden table.

Duke snuck past Cyrus, jumping into the seat he’d just been about to take.

“Hey!” Duke growled in response.

Cyrus sighed and took the seat across from Moira instead.

Moira stared back at the bartender. A Minotaur. A man with the head of a bull. Straight out of Greek mythology. “How many races are there?” she asked.

“There are a lot,” Cyrus answered. “Where should I start?” He turned to the group for help.

Myles spoke up. “The major races are Humans, Elves, Dwarves, Harpies, Basilisks, Fauns, Wyverns, Fae, and Wulvers.”

Sloane interrupted. “You can’t forget about the lesser-known races. There are hundreds out there. Some only rumored to exist. Most of them are considered Fae.”

“Fae?”

“They stay away from the rest of us. Holed up in their Kingdom. But some of the minor Fae sneak out every once in a while,” Cyrus said.

Her forehead crinkled. Most of them were familiar. Mythological creatures. Except for two that she wasn’t familiar with. “What are Wyverns and Wulvers?”

“They’re both types of shapeshifters. Wyverns, if not in their other form, look mostly human except for their eyes, which match their scales. When they shift, they appear as large-winged, scaled serpents. One of the more powerful races. Wulvers are similar in the sense that they also look mostly human except for silver eyes and an excess of hair. When they shift, they turn into giant wolves,” Cyrus explained.

“It’s weird. We have myths about these creatures back home.” “

“Maybe your world once had all the races?” Myles asked. “Or maybe you’ve had Outworlders from Caelum.”

“What’s it like there?” Sloane asked, almost jumping up from her seat.

“It’s completely different. First, there’s no magic,” Moira said, a grin creeping across her face.

“No Magic!” Sloane gasped.

“Yup, we also don’t have levels or notifications or quests. The only thing that’s similar are our games.”

“Games? If you don’t have magic and you can’t level. How do you fight monsters, then?” Myles asked, a look of curiosity mixed with concern on his face.

“We don’t have monsters.”

Ethan slid into a seat, setting down a tray of overflowing beers. They all grabbed one and turned back to Moira. Ethan had just heard the tail end of the conversation. “You don’t have monsters? What do you all do with yourselves?”

Moira laughed; she’d been expecting a completely different response. “Aren’t you guys jealous? Wouldn’t you want to live in a world where you didn’t have to fight monsters while traveling to another city?”

“I mean yeah, of course we’re jealous of that. To live in a world without worrying about a monster attack would be nice. But—at the same time, it sounds kinda boring,” Myles said, laughing. He slurped another drink of his beer. The rest of them nodded in agreement. “So, what do you all do, then?”

“We have electricity and computers, and a library at the touch of our fingertips, and we use it constantly. Connecting with people across the globe takes just seconds. We also have video games. Where you can pretend to play in a world like this, while never leaving your home,” she replied, feeling the need to defend her world.

They all laughed. “Why would you want a library at your fingertips? Sounds like too much reading to me.” Myles chuckled.

Moira just sighed and looked down at Duke. He grinned back and wagged his tail. “Like here better. Can talk here.”

Moira shook her head at him. “Traitor,” she thought back. He wagged his tail even faster and whacked her leg with his paw.