Apostle of the Sleeping Gods Page 13
Leaving the wolf meat, bear meat, and venison as unclaimed loot, I gave a sigh. If I had Patrick with me, he could have carried everything.
The sun dipped below the horizon. It turned dark and stars started peeking out. But I still wasn’t there yet. By that point, I had realized why no one had come after the cannibalistic ogre in all this time despite the quest for his two heads. The ten-gold reward was clearly not worth the wasted effort. The rare, wanted mob was both too far away and its level too imposing. Seventeen! Unlike Crusher, who I got an achievement for killing, this ogre was not considered a local boss, just a named mob, even if he had... fattened up a bit!
Wot’al, level 17
Ogre Cannibal
Rare
Easy pickings. I took out my bow and was preparing to activate curse of the undead when suddenly I heard a rustling in the bushes next to me.
And when I turned, I saw Crag crawling out.
Chapter 13. Cheer Elixir
CARELESSLY KICKING rocks underfoot, Crag walked up to me. He didn’t look anxious, or ready to turn tail at any moment. Instead he was walking confidently with a rakish gate, hiding a smirk in his eyes.
“Ah, look who it is. Scythy the noob...” he said, looking up for a second to read my information. “You here for the ogre?”
The ganker warrior had changed since our last encounter. His level was higher, and he had different gear. It was not of course the glimmering armor he used to flaunt around town but it also wasn’t the mismatched trash he was wearing yesterday. Back to his old ways? A successful gank? Or did he find money and buy it? The look in his eyes was different too, now seeming to secretly harbor a sense of superiority.
“Yes. You too?”
“You might say that,” he groaned, finally coming out into the light of Geala. He sized me up, smiled for some reason and spat at my feet. “But first I’ve got a score to settle. Between you and me, remember?”
“We settled it in the arena. And in case you still haven’t learned your lesson, you better not mess with me...”
“Then you’ve got all the less to fear, stupid noob. Look, I’m even unarmed!” He put away his sword for show.
“I don’t give a crap, that isn’t why I’m here.”
“Chicken! Don’t drop a load in your pants! What, don’t got the guts without your precious Dementors to protect you?”
I looked closely, trying to figure out what he was driving at. Crag was not a great actor, so it wasn’t hard to guess he was hiding something. But what? He wasn’t just goading me for fun, after all! And out here his reputation wouldn’t suffer even if he attacked first, so he couldn’t have been worried about that. So what was it? Did he have his lackeys hiding in the bushes?
Anyhow, if that was what he wanted, for me to start the fight, that was exactly what I needed to avoid. And so, ignoring the ganker, I calmly headed into the ogre’s lair. I had enough bonus attributes to take down a whole pack of creatures like Wot’al, even with Tobias stabbing me in the back. Taking my attributes alone, I was comparable to a level thirty-five player. Add to that Ghastly Howl, Resilience and thirty seconds of Stoneskin and I wouldn’t even need the curse of the undead to kill both Wot’al the remarkable ogre and Crag the even more remarkable idiot.
“Hey, noobass, where you going?” rang out behind me.
“Go... take a walk, idiot!”
“Hm, okay... If we see each other again, I promise! We’ll see who can take who!”
“Oh I can’t wait, little Crag!”
And I didn’t wait for an answer. The warrior went and hid back in the depths of the forest, sending me off with a middle finger.
I went into the cave. It was one hundred feet long, a bit less in height and wall-to-wall width. At the far wall stood the beefy ogre saddled on something like a stool. In the end, he had only one head, and he was midmeal, slurping out of a ladle right from a pot perched on his knee. The cannibal was of an impressive size. There could have been a medium-sized kobold hidden behind each of his legs.
A bit further away there was a big burning fire, and shadows flickered on the walls in its fickle light, disorienting me.
I entered in Stealth and froze at the front door to check where the ganker was. There was no one near the cave, and I was almost convinced Crag had left. What changed my mind in the end was past experience with Mr. Asser. It was always extremely negative and never without a stab in the back.
I waited another few minutes and didn’t see anything moving behind me, so I figured I was safe. The ogre was still slurping down food and, based on the size of the pot, he would continue to do so for quite some time. Mentally apologizing for interrupting his dinner, I got up and ran at the rare mob.
As I went, I unloaded a series of Fast Shots into him, then stashed the bow and slammed into the angered roaring cannibal with a Hammer.
You have damaged Wot’al: 937.
Health points: 1663/2600.
A massive knife materialized in his hand, which he brought down on my face with no swing. I didn’t have time to dodge, but I did have Stoneskin at the ready.
Wot’al has damaged you: 18.
Health points: 736/754.
The damage was cut by both my Resilience and Stoneskin and, as a result, miniscule. But the physical force of the blow nearly knocked my head off. If my legs had been chained to the ground, that would have happened. But game physics were on my side. My body lifted off the stone floor of the cave and flew upward. The tip of the ogre’s weapon caught me in midair but, fortunately didn’t go through, instead adding more speed to my flight in a glancing blow.
Wot’al has damaged you: 11.
Health points: 725/754.
After a few backwards somersaults, I slammed into a pair of feet. Crag! Damn, I knew he was still lurking, but I was hoping to cut down the rare mob first!
I shot to my feet and noticed he was brandishing a sword. But that was no reason to be upset yet. After all, Stoneskin was still active and I was pretty sure I could beat this ogre before it expired. Pushing back the ganker, I sent him running in fear with a Ghastly Howl so he wouldn’t trip me up, then ran at Wot’al. The ogre was also in motion, grinning at me like a piece of meat and just about licking his lips as he came at me with heavy footsteps.
This time, I either successful dove under the whistling gladius or Dodge triggered, but he didn’t hurt me and, as I moved, I hit him with a Hammer just above the knee. And it was a massive crit!
You have critically damaged Wot’al: 1376!
Health points: 287/2600.
Not wanting to draw it out, I added a series of blows and the ogre, whooping in pain, lifted me up over his head. From my high vantage point, I took a look around. Crag was nowhere to be seen.
But the cannibal didn’t have time to throw me as he was planning to. Hammer cooled down just as the ogre’s disgusting face came into range:
You have damaged Wot’al: 937.
Wot’al is dead.
Experience points received: 150.
Experience points at present level (12): 390/10100.
You have received quest item Wot’al’s Head.
Dead or Alive: Wot’al completed!
Inform Tristad Chief Councilman Peter Whiteacre to receive your reward.
The ogre’s legs wobbled and, with a thunder that shook the whole cave, he fell to the ground, dropping me. I rolled over his corpse and got to my feet.
Then something else happened. I raised a hand to see the loot, Stoneskin expired and, a minute later, I saw the tip of a sword stick out of my chest then immediately disappear, followed by an avalanche of blows. Even with my Resilience at cap, they were hitting hard, dealing almost twenty damage a piece.
Sharply turning around, I grabbed Crag’s hands, hoping to take advantage of my higher strength. But then the unbelievable happened: the ganker easily got loose and kicked me in the gut so hard I flew to the far wall of the cave right into the fire.
Player Crag (Tobias Asser) damaged you: 31.
>
Health points: 601/754.
My surprise was replaced with comprehension. Of course! He was a warrior, he had higher strength! Of course, with my plague energy, it was of secondary importance. But for a warrior... However... There was no time to think about why my Resilience wasn’t doing the trick or how crazy this kid’s damage must have been to overcome it.
Crag raised his shield and sword and walked in my direction. His first attacks were very clever and surprising, and that gave him a slight advantage, but now his luck had run out.
We went back into close combat, but this time I was ready. He would swing and I would dodge then try to counter. But every time, either I connected with his shield, leaving monstrous dents, or just simply missed. This kid’s dodge and parry chance must have been sky high.
With yet another Hammer, the ganker’s shield fell to pieces and Crag calmly tossed it aside.
While we fought, he was silent and concentrated, not chuckling like he used to. We exchanged blows in oppressive silence, punctuated by the clang of weapons and heavy breathing.
I still had half my life left and wasn’t panicking. I could take down somebody like Crag in one Hammer. I just had to get one off. And if I had to die, it wouldn’t be my first time. I certainly wasn’t going to activate curse of the undead. This little skirmish wasn’t worth so blatantly advertising my threat status.
His next blow landed and my health bar was getting dangerously close to the yellow zone. Whenever I tried to come near, he easily pushed me back with either a shoulder or a kick, and they really packed a punch. It was like getting hit by a truck. The ganker was trying to push me against the wall, but every time I jumped out of his trap. His health meanwhile hadn’t gone down by even a quarter percent despite my landing a Hammer... What? More than three thousand health points? How?
In a flash, I dressed myself down for draining my plague pool and swore that no one would ever catch me off guard again.
“Did you put everything into endurance or something? And level Resilience?” Crag asked, suddenly stopping. And it sounded casual, as if we were old friends sitting on a couch and just chatting.
“Where’d you get all that health from? It isn’t possible to level endurance that much at your level! I can usually take people down in one hit, but your health bar won’t even budge...”
“Very true,” he noted melancholically and went on the attack again. “And thank god!”
The warrior landed a series of blows that read as a well-practiced combo. His blade swung in the air, lowering my health into the red zone. If this were happening IRL, with real physics, I wouldn’t have survived even one slash. Also, in meat space, I never would have been able to get off this move: bobbing under Crag’s arm, I got him in a hold, tightened my left arm around his neck then slammed him in the nose with my other fist.
You have critically damaged player Crag (Tobias Asser): 872!
Health points: 1964/3610.
I heard a crack, the ganker gave a yelp and, breaking away, retreated. At his level, he didn’t have most warrior attacks, otherwise he would have shield stunned or charged me long ago.
Building on my advantage, I rained down a series of blows, but got carried away. The bleeding effect, replenished with every attack that hit me, had reached level eight and the DoT ticks were now too severe. The interface flickered red and I just about turned on curse of the undead in fear. But thank the Sleeping ones, I didn’t. And even though Hammer had cooled down, I wasn’t fast enough to use it. Crag’s finishing blow was critical and took my head clean off.
Player Crag (Tobias Asser) critically damaged you: 118!
Health points: 0/754.
You are dead.
* * *
Appearing in the Tristad cemetery, I left the respawn circle and sat down on the ground. My Resilience was at maximum, Unarmed Combat was leveled as hell, and I had one hundred thirteen bonus attribute points. I didn’t understand how, despite all that, I had lost to a player of approximately the same level. Something must have been amiss, but I had no idea what to do with that information. Write the preventers? They’d want me to send combat logs, but that would expose me more than anything. And without the logs, they’d just think I lost a battle to a ganker and wanted revenge. Aw, nether. Time would prove if he was a threat or simply hopped up on elixirs.
I was so upset at losing that I decided to stop playing. It was coming up on midnight and I did not want to scour Gloomwood or damp dungeons any longer. All my gear had dropped, and I didn’t have a backup set, so I quickly dropped into my room to get into decent pants and a shirt at least.
Everything was in my chest as usual, awaiting it’s hour. The Whistle of Summoning for the legendary pet, the epic set gloves and the few rare blue items. I could use some of them already but didn’t want to waste them on farming. I was low enough on inventory space as it was, and wearing it would mean reducing its durability. Basically, I figured I’d better wait.
I went down into the public area and decided to sit for a second with everyone like a normal casual player. It was somewhat novel. Instead of racing through forests and dungeons farming experience and loot, or dying time and again, levelling abilities, I would simply spend my time relaxing with other players, idle.
At the front door, I turned my head in search of a free table and saw Overweight waving at me. Rita was with her trader brother Undy and a group of friends. I walked over.
“Thank you! Show some love to the beautiful Stefania for her wonderful singing. And now say hello to the Guitar Warriors!” Someone named Claudio announced from the stage while I walked to Undy and Overweight’s table.
The boy’s voice was magically amplified by some clever method so everyone could hear, but it didn’t drown out conversations:
“Well, well!” Undy exclaimed when he saw me. “In this world of constant flow and change, you can always count on Scyth and his style! Pants and a shirt, what else does a person need to feel happy? It’s a rhetorical question, friends, no answer needed! Meet our special client, Alex! A legendary player in our sandbox, let me point out...”
While Undy droned on about how I spent a year and a half wearing through my pants on a bench (“Scyth, are those the same pants you’re wearing now?!”) I shrugged my outstretched arms. Someone patted me on the shoulder, someone gave me five. In the end I was given a seat between Rita and some giggly girl by the name of Goosebumps. She looked me over, curious and, seemingly liked what she saw because she immediately offered me a drink. “To new friends,” she said.
A mug of cream beer was placed before me, but when I grabbed it to lift and drink “to new friends,” Goosebumps grabbed my arm:
“Woah, woah! Slow down! Earl, give him a splash of your magic potion!”
A short smiley boy with red cheeks on the other side of the table got up, extended a hand and dripped something into my glass. A second later, the description changed:
Cream Beer of Cheer
Producer: Earl.
“Explain,” I said, turning chummily toward Goosebumps.
“You add this stuff to any drink and, without changing the flavor, it suddenly has an effect close to alcohol intoxication,” Earl answered in her stead. “Not every alchemist can make it. It’s part of a special branch for food products.”
“Mhm,” Goosebumps confirmed joyfully. “Earl just learned how to make it today, but he’s already got a line of customers a month long!”
“Yes, unfortunately, the cooldown time for cooking it is extremely high...” the alchemist made a side note.
“Still it’s pretty sweet. Congratulations!”
I lifted the beer and nodded in respect at the alchemist. We clinked glasses, someone shouted it was bad form to drink without everybody and, for the next ten seconds, everyone clinked glasses, spilling the sweet, creamy and foamy amber drink onto the table.
“How’s it going, Scyth?” Rita asked after our cheers. “I got your message about not playing for two weeks. Did something happen?�
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“Nothing special. An academic ban.”
“Problems with school?” she asked in surprise. “I never got the impression you were stupid!”
“Yeah but look at my level, Rita...”
“Ah, now I see! You just gave up on everything to level? That’s impressive progress! I heard the Dementors were helping you out?”