Effect: Army of One allows the projection of (Number of Thousand Blades conjured weapons * 3) Blade Strike attacks up to 300 meters away from user. Each attack deals 3 * Blade Strike Level damage (inclusive of Mana Imbue and Soulbound weapon bonus)
Cost: 750 Mana
Sanctum (Level 2)
An Erethran Honor Guard’s ultimate trump card in safeguarding their target, Sanctum creates a flexible shield that blocks all incoming attacks, hostile teleportations and Skills. At this Level of Skill, the user must specify dimensions of the Sanctum upon use of the Skill. The Sanctum cannot be moved while the Skill is activated.
Dimensions: Maximum 15 cubic meters.
Cost: 1,000 Mana
Duration: 2 minute and 7 seconds
Paladin of Erethra Skill Tree
Penetration
Aura of Chivalry
Eye of Insight
Beacon of the Angels
Vanguard of the Apocalypse
Eye of the Storm
Society’s Web
Judgment of All
Immovable Object / Unstoppable Force
Domain
Shackles of Eternity
John’s Paladin of Erethra Skills
Class Skill: Penetration (Level 2)
Few can face the judgment of a Paladin in direct combat, their ability to bypass even the toughest of defenses a frightening prospect. Reduces Mana Regeneration by 10 permanently.
Effect: Ignore all armor and defensive spells by 55%. Increases damage done to shields by 110%.
Class Skill: Aura of Chivalry (Level 1)
A Paladin’s very presence can quail weak-hearted enemies and bolster the confidence of allies, whether on the battlefield or in court. The Aura of Chivalry is a double-edged sword however, focusing attention on the Paladin—potentially to their detriment. Increases success rate of Perception checks against Paladin by 10% and reduces stealth and related skills by 10% while active. Reduces Mana Regeneration by 5 Permanently.
Effect: All enemies must make a Willpower check against intimidation against user’s Charisma. Failure to pass the check will cow enemies. All allies gain a 50% boost in morale for all Willpower checks and a 10% boost in confidence and probability of succeeding in relevant actions.
Note: Aura may be activated or left-off at will.
Beacon of the Angels
User calls down an atmospheric strike from the heavens, dealing damage over a wide area to all enemies within the beacon. The attack takes time to form, but once activated need not be concentrated upon for completion.
Effect: 1000 Mana Damage done to all enemies, structures and vehicles within the 20 meter column of attack
Mana Cost: 500 Mana
Eyes of Insight (Level 1)
Under the eyes of a Paladin, all untruth and deceptions fall away. Only when the Paladin can see with clarity may he be able to judge effectively. Reduces Mana Regeneration by 5.
Effect: All Skills, Spells and abilities of a lower grade that obfuscate, hinder or deceive the Paladin are reduced in effectiveness. Level of reduction proportionate to degree of difference in grade and Skill Level.
Eye of the Storm (Level 1)
In the middle of the battlefield, the Paladin stands, seeking justice and offering judgment on all enemies. The winds of war will seek to draw both enemies and allies to you, their cruel flurries robbing enemies of their lives and bolstering the health and Mana of allies.
Effect: Eye of the Storm is an area effect buff and taunt. Psychic winds taunt enemies, forcing a Mental Resistance check to avoid attacking user. Enemies also receive 5 points of damage per second while within the influence of the Skill, with damage decreasing from the epicenter of the Skill. Allies receive a 5% increase in Mana and Health regeneration, decrease in effectiveness from Skill center. Eye of the Storm affects an area of 50 meters around the user.
Cost: 500 Mana + 20 Mana per second
Vanguard of the Apocalypse (Level 1)
Where others flee, the Paladin strides forward. Where the brave dare not advance, the Paladin charges. While the world burns, the Paladin still fights. The Paladin with this Skill is the vanguard of any fight, leading the charge against all of Erethra’s enemies.
Effect: +30 to all Physical attributes, increases speed by 50% and recovery rates by 30%. This Skill is stackable on top of other attribute and speed boosting Skills or spells.
Cost: 500 Mana + 10 Stamina per second
Society’s Web (Level 1)
Where the Eye of Insight provides the Paladin an understanding of the lies and mistruths told, Society’s Web shows the Paladin the intricate webs that tie individuals to one another. No alliance, no betrayal, no tangled web of lies will be hidden as each interaction weaves one another closer. While the Skill provides no detailed information, a skilled Paladin can infer much from the Web.
Effect: Upon activation, the Paladin will see all threads that tie each individual to one another and automatically understand the details of each thread when focused upon.
Cost: 400 Mana + 200 Mana per minute
Other Class Skills
Frenzy (Level 1)
Effect: When activated, pain is reduced by 80%, damage increased by 30%, stamina regeneration rate increased by 20%. Mana regeneration rate decreased by 10%
Frenzy will not deactivate until all enemies have been slain. User may not retreat while Frenzy is active.
Cleave (Level 2)
Effect: Physical attacks deal 60% more base damage. Effect may be combined with other Class Skills.
Cost: 25 Mana
Elemental Strike (Level 1 - Ice)
Effect: Used to imbue a weapon with freezing damage. Adds +5 Base Damage to attacks and a 10% chance of reducing speed by 5% upon contact. Lasts for 30 seconds.
Cost: 50 Mana
Instantaneous Inventory (Maxed)
Allows user to place or remove any System-recognized item from Inventory if space allows. Includes the automatic arrangement of space in the inventory. User must be touching item.
Cost: 5 Mana per item
Shrunken Footprints (Level 1)
Reduces System presence of user, increasing the chance of the user evading detection of System-assisted sensing Skills and equipment. Also increases cost of information purchased about user. Reduces Mana Regeneration by 5 permanently.
Tech Link (Level 2)
Effect: Tech Link allows user to increase their skill level in using a technological item, increasing input and versatility in usage of said items. Effects vary depending on item. General increase in efficiency of 10%. Mana regeneration rate decreased by 10%
Designated Technological Items: Neural Link, Sabre
Spells
Improved Minor Healing (IV)
Effect: Heals 40 Health per casting. Target must be in contact during healing. Cooldown 60 seconds.
Cost: 20 Mana
Improved Mana Missile (IV)
Effect: Creates four missiles out of pure Mana, which can be directed to damage a target. Each dart does 30 damage. Cooldown 10 seconds
Cost: 35 Mana
Enhanced Lightning Strike
Effect: Call forth the power of the gods, casting lightning. Lightning Strike may affect additional targets depending on proximity, charge and other conductive materials on-hand. Does 100 points of electrical damage.
Lightning Strike may be continuously channeled to increase damage for 10 additional damage per second.
Cost: 75 Mana.
Continuous cast cost: 5 Mana / second
Lightning Strike may be enhanced by using the Elemental Affinity of Electromagnetic Force. Damage increased by 20% per level of affinity
Greater Regeneration (II)
Effect: Increases natural health regeneration of target by 6%. Only single use of spell effective on a target at a time.
Duration: 10 minutes
Cost: 100 Mana
Firestorm
Effect: Create a firestorm with a radius of 5 meters. Deals 250 points of fire damage to those caught within. Cooldown 60 seconds.
Cost: 200 Mana
Polar Zone
Effect: Create a thirty meter diameter blizzard that freezes all targets within one. Does 10 points of freezing damage per minute plus reduces effected individuals speed by 5%. Cooldown 60 seconds.
Cost: 200 Mana
Greater Healing (II)
Effect: Heals 100 Health per casting. Target does not require contact during healing. Cooldown 60 seconds per target.
Cost: 75 Mana
Mana Drip (II)
Effect: Increases natural health regeneration of target by 6%. Only single use of spell effective on a target at a time.
Duration: 10 minutes
Cost: 100 Mana
Freezing Blade
Effect: Enchants weapon with a slowing effect. A 5% slowing effect is applied on a successful strike. This effect is cumulative and lasts for 1 minute. Cooldown 3 minutes
Spell Duration: 1 minute.
Cost: 150 Mana
Improved Inferno Strike (II)
A beam of heat raised to the levels of an inferno, able to melt steel and earth on contact! The perfect spell for those looking to do a lot of damage in a short period of time.
Effect: Does 200 Points of Heat Damage
Cost: 150 Mana
Mud Walls
Unlike its more common counterpart Earthen Walls, Mud Walls focus is more on dealing slow, suffocating damage and restricting movement on the battlefield.
Effect: Does 20 Points of Suffocating Damage. -30% Movement Speed
Duration: 2 Minutes
Cost: 75 Mana
Sabre’s Load-Out
Omnitron III Class II Personal Assault Vehicle (Sabre)
Core: Class II Omnitron Mana Engine
CPU: Class D Xylik Core CPU
Armor Rating: Tier IV (Modified with Adaptive Resistance)
Hard Points: 5 (5 Used)
Soft Points: 3 (3 Used)
Requires: Neural Link for Advanced Configuration
Battery Capacity: 120/120
Attribute Bonuses: +35 Strength, +18 Agility, +10 Perception
Inlin Type II Projectile Rifle
Base Damage: N/A (Dependent Upon Ammunition)
Ammo Capacity: 45/45
Available Ammunition: 250 Standard, 150 Armor Piercing, 200 High Explosive, 25 Luminescent
Ares Type II Shield Generator
Base Shielding: 2,000 HP
Regeneration Rate: 50/second unlinked, 200/second linked
Mkylin Type IV Mini-Missile Launchers
Base Damage: N/A (dependent on missiles purchased)
Battery Capacity: 6/6
Reload rate from internal batteries: 10 seconds
Available Ammunition: 12 Standard, 12 High Explosive, 12 Armor Piercing, 4 Napalm
Monolam Temporal Cloak
This Temporal Cloak splices the user’s timeline, adjusting their physical, emotional, and psychic presence to randomly associated times. This allows the user to evade notice from most sensors and individuals. The Monolam Temporal Cloak has multiple settings for a variety of situations, varying the type and level of dispersal of the signal.
Requirements: 1 Hardpoint, Tier IV Mana Engine
Duration: Varies depending on cloaking level
Type II Webbing Mini-Missile
Base Damage: N/A
Effect: Disperses insta-webbing upon impact or on activation. Dispersal covers 3 cubic feet.
Cost: 500 Credits
Shinowa Type II Sonic Pulser
Base Damage: 25 per second
Additional Effect: Disrupts auditory sense of balance on opponent during use. Effects have a small chance of continuing after use.
Joola Communication Booster (Tier II)
Military Grade Communication Booster able to deliver your message where and when it needs to be. Joola Tech is the only way to go when what you need to say needs to be heard!
Effect: Disregard all communication interference from shields, communication scramblers, Skills and Spells below Tier of communication booster. 50% chance of breaking through equivalent tier blockages (chance decreases dependent on proximity to emanating blockage).
Other Equipment
Silversmith Mark II Beam Pistol (Upgradeable)
Base Damage: 18
Battery Capacity: 24/24
Recharge Rate: 2 per hour per GMU
Tier IV Neural Link
Neural link may support up to 5 connections.
Current connections: Omnitron III Class II Personal Assault Vehicle
Software Installed: Rich’lki Firewall Class IV, Omnitron III Class IV Controller
Ferlix Type II Twinned-Beam Rifle (Modified)
Base Damage: 57
Battery Capacity: 17/17
Recharge rate: 1 per hour per GMU (currently 12)
Tier II Sword (Soulbound Personal Weapon of an Erethran Honor Guard)
Base Damage: 218
Durability: N/A (Personal Weapon)
Special Abilities: +20 Mana Damage, Blade Strike
Kryl Ring of Regeneration
Often used as betrothal bands, Kyrl rings are highly sought after and must be ordered months in advance.
Health Regeneration: +30
Stamina Regeneration: +15
Mana Regeneration: +5
Tier III Bracer of Mana Storage
A custom work by an unknown maker, this bracer acts a storage battery for personal Mana. Useful for Mages and other Classes that rely on Mana. Mana storage ratio is 50 to 1.
Mana Capacity: 350/350
Fey-steel Dagger
Fey-steel is not actual steel but an unknown alloy. Normally reserved only for the Sidhe nobility, a small—by Galactic standards—amount of Fey-steel is released for sale each year. Fey-steel takes enchantments extremely well.
Base Damage: 28
Durability: 110/100
Special Abilities: None
Brumwell Necklace of Shadow Intent
The Brumwell Necklace of Shadow Intent is the hallmark item of the Brumwell Clan. Enchanted by a Master Crafter, this necklace layers shadowy intents over your actions, ensuring that information about your actions are more difficult to ascertain. Ownership of such an item is both a necessity and a mark of prestige among settlement owners and other individuals of power.
Effect: Persistent effect of Shadow Intent (Level 4) results in significantly increased cost of purchasing information from the System about wearer. Effect is persistent for all actions taken while necklace is worn.
Ring of Greater Shielding
Creates a greater shield that will absorb approximately 1000 points of damage. This shield will ignore all damage that does not exceed its threshold amount of 50 points of damage while still functioning.
Max Duration: 7 Minutes
Charges: 1
Stars Awoken: A LitRPG Apocalypse (The System Apocalypse Book 7) Tao Wong
The Stars Awoken
Book 7 of the System Apocalypse
By
Tao Wong
License Notes
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite eBook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
The Stars Awoken
Copyright © 2019 Tao Wong. All rights reserved.
Copyright © 2019 Sarah Anderson Cover Designer
ISBN: 9781989458068
Contents
What Has Gone Before
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Author’s Note
About the Author
Glossary
Erethran Honor Guard Skill Tree
John’s Erethran Honor Guard Skills
Paladin of Erethra Skill Tree
John’s Paladin of Erethra Skills
Other Class Skills
Spells
Equipment
What Has Gone Before
When the System arrived on Earth, it brought monsters, aliens, and glowing blue boxes that altered the reality of humanity. Gifted with Classes that must be Leveled and Skills that provide reality-altering powers, humanity struggled to survive when modern electronics failed under the flood of Mana. In a year, over ninety percent of humanity fell, leaving the remnants to pick up their lives.
John Lee is one such survivor, starting from the depths of the Yukon and traveling south to aid humanity in its struggle to stay free of their Galactic overlords. As a settlement owner in British Columbia, he joined forces with the remnant military forces of the United States on the West Coast and proceeded to wage a war to free the Canadian prairies and the US West Coast. Forced to take his Master Class Quest by the Erethran Honor Guard and the Erethran Champion, John returned from the Forbidden Zone planet he was portaled to with new powers and to a changed Earth.
Working together with his friends, many whom had changed and gotten on with their lives in the four years he had been exiled, John aided Earth in establishing a planetary government. Forced to fight both the Movanna and the Fist, John and his friends are betrayed by other humans at the very end. Even betrayed, Earth has managed to form the very first planetary government based on a Dungeon World. Now, John travels to Irvina with the Earth ambassador, in search of answers of what the System really is. And what, if any, place an ex-computer programmer turned warrior has in it.
Chapter 1
Watching the stars flash by on the observation deck is a strange experience. In hyperspace, they stop being a single point of light but instead become streaks that appear and disappear as we cross unimaginable distances in the blink of an eye. The journey to Praxis is about a week in, but I still haven’t gotten enough of the sight. It reminds me, again and again, how small I am and how unimaginably vast the universe is.
Not that it’s my first time out of Earth’s solar system, but being Portaled directly across thousands of light years isn’t the same thing at all. There’s no sense of journey that way, no sense of growing wonder. This trip feels more real. More… momentous.
“John?”
Mikito’s voice brings my head up to stare at the little Japanese woman. She has cut her hair again, turning it into a short bob. She’s dressed in what I call adventurer chic—dark, armored jumpsuit with holstered beam pistol and knife on her hips made from monster parts and nano-modified thread. Her usual weapon, the naginata Hitoshi, is stored away at the request of the captain. Something about too-sharp weapons in his fragile ship.
“You’re back. You win?” I say, raising an eyebrow as I lean up against the standing table.
Ever since Mikito found out that there’s a virtual, holographic projector of the fighting arenas onboard, she’s spent a good portion of the trip there. I tried it once, but the disparity of having your virtual life points deducted for blows you never felt was too much for me. Even if my life is like a game in some ways, playing a game in the game of my life is a little too meta for me.
“I did.”
“Great.” I acknowledge the notification that arrives a moment later that informs me my hundred-Credit bet on Mikito has paid out. A sizeable betting pool revolves around the virtual games. And a good bet is a good bet.
“John Lee and Mikito Sato.” The cultured voice cuts off any further conversation as both of us turn. In front of us is a grizzled older man, curly hair speckled with grey and shorn tight against his scalp, highlighting his dark umber black-brown skin. The man wears a multi-pocketed vest and cargo pants while offering us a friendly smile. The British accent is familiar, though I struggle to place it. “And of course, the Spirit Ali.”
Purely by instinct, I eye the rest of the viewing room. Set against an outer hull, the glass—or whatever clear material they use to create the viewing walls—provides an amazing view. A part of me wonders if it’s even clear. They might just be very good screens reflecting what is outside. If so, it’s an amazing illusion.
The illusion is so good that this and the other three viewing rooms on the observation deck are filled with the various Galactic guests of the merchant cruiser we are shipping with. Even if the merchant ship is mostly meant for cargo, it’s large enough to carry slightly over two hundred passengers in its various cabins without impacting its main task. Though, I’m led to understand, some of the less-expensive cabins are no better than jail cells. Around us, the Galactics are a mixture of the exotic, the bizarre, and the familiar. Truinnar mix with Yerrick, Dwarves stand elbow to elbow with Akkorokamui squid humanoids in full-body water suits while Lilitu—avian-humanoids with bird legs—talk to Pooskeens. Galactic civilization at its finest.
Ali looks up from where he floats in his pint-size form at my shoulder and does a double-take. He flicks his hand slightly, dismissing System screens that no one else can see, as he stares at our new guest. “Oh wow. It’s you! I mean, I knew you were onboard. But whoa!”
“You know him?” I say with a frown, tilting my head toward the starstruck Spirit.
“You don’t?” Mikito says, shaking her head. She puts her hand out to shake the stranger’s. “Good to see you, Harry.”
Well, I got that part. I stare at the notification information above Harry then watch as Ali updates it further for my use. Oh. Oh…
Harry Prince, the Unfiltered Eye (War Correspondent Level 39)
HP: 520/520
MP: 1780/1780
Conditions: Reporter’s Luck, Nose for Trouble, Just a Bystander
“Oh! You,” I say, realizing who he is when I see the full details of his Status. I might be somewhat ignorant about those who made a name for themselves during my absence, but Harry is a special case. For one thing, I recall seeing him at various battle sites in the last year. Curious that I didn’t remember him being at those sites till now.
“That’d be his Skill, boy-o.” Ali sends to me telepathically, reading the slight changes in my facial expression with the ease of a long-time companion.
I swear, we’re like an old couple sometimes, picking up on the unsaid. Except, you know, without the sex. Wait. Old people have sex, right? Actually, never mind. I’m glad for the distraction as Ali populates Harry’s Skill information for me.
Skill: Just a Bystander
A rare non-Combat Skill that will allow non-combat personnel and observers to traverse through battlefields and other combat regions with greater safety. This Skill hides the User from casual observation as well as reduces the effect of indiscriminate attacks.
Effect: User sees a +500% increase in Stealth, Disguise, and Camouflage skill levels while this Skill is active. Untargeted attacks and spells have a 50% reduction in effect on User. Additionally, memory and area-of-effect mental manipulation Skills and spells must be specifically targeted at User. Lastly, memories of User will be obscured until active recollection or trigger event occurs.
“Yes, me,” Harry says with a smile. “I was hoping to speak with you both.”
“Why?” I ask suspiciously. If he had a tape recorder, I’d be giving it the stink-eye, but I’m willing to bet Harry’s got an equivalent Skill for that. Who needs physical toys when the System works just as well? If not better.
“It seems like the rumors are true,” Harry says, keeping that reassuring smile on his face. “But you need not worry. I’m not looking to make you the target of my reports. At least, not directly.”
“Then what do you want?” I ask while Mikito stays silent, sipping on her newly delivered orange slushy cocktail, and watches the interplay.
“You know I’m part of the diplomatic press corp, right? Well, technically. But the fact is, there’re a half-dozen reporters setting up to follow the ambassador around, covering all the politics,” Harry said. “But the minutiae of politics, that’s never been my thing.”
“Blood and guts is yours. And you figure following Mikito and me will get you that,” I say, my lips tightening.
“Some respect there, John! Harry Prince is more than a blood-and-guts reporter! He’s an award-winning reporter who did amazing exposés about your pre-System world. The Unfiltered Eye has shot some of the best works for Earth since the System arrived. He’s even been considered for an Ummi,” Ali interrupts, waving. “An Ummi!”
“What exactly is an Ummi?” I say.
“Just a Galactic award,” Harry says, waving to dismiss the topic. “I won’t say the fact that you and Ms. Sato are known loci of violence is a detraction from your attractiveness, but I’m looking more to report on areas outside of the diplomatic scene. As your stated intentions are to break from the team immediately upon arrival…”
“You figure you’ll shelter under our kind arms.” I shake my head. “No thanks.”
“Now, there’s no need to be hasty. While I’m not a Combat Classer, I do have a number of—”
“No, thank you. We’re not a tour group. In fact, you can—”
The remainder of my sentence gets interrupted by the ship’s klaxon. Everything flashes purple while the discordant whine interrupts conversations everywhere. A moment later, we get a System notification from the ship’s captain.
Ship-wide Alert!
We have encountered a pirate fleet. As per Galactic conventions, we are matching speeds with said pirates. All non-insured passengers, this is your prescribed warning.
“What? They’re matching speeds with the pirates?” I frown in confusion. Still, it doesn’t stop me from standing and dressing myself for trouble. Armored jumpsuit, protective vest, weapons belt, it all goes on, drawn from the System inventory.
“Galactic convention. Since pirates can buy ship routes from the System, it’s hard to avoid them. Rather than actually fight the pirates, merchant ships take out insurance for such incidents. When the pirates dock, the System registers the fact that they’ve ‘pirated’ the ship and said insurance companies pay out the Credits. Makes it nice and easy for everyone,” Ali says.
“Honto baka dane!” Mikito swears, and I can’t help but agree. It really is idiotic.
“What about this part about uninsured passengers?” Katherine, my ex-secretary and now the designated representative for Earth, speaks up the moment she nears our table.
Trailing behind her is Peter Steele, the Planetary Diplomat, who is busy muttering over his commlink. At a guess, he’s herding everyone together. The man is still a full tie and suit ensemble in space while waving his hands around as he harangues whoever is on the line.
“Well, that’s the problem,” Harry says, his eyes unfocused. “From what I can see, uninsured passengers include all of us from Earth.”
“Why didn’t we get insurance?” Mikito says with a frown.
Katherine glares at the little Japanese lady before she admits through gritted teeth, “I didn’t realize it was needed.”
“Wouldn’t matter much anyway. Some of our members have quite a high bounty on them,” Harry adds, looking at me before switching his gaze to Mikito.
“Damn.”
That, sadly, is not news. Ali informed us of that unfortunate fact a while ago. In truth, all of us carry bounties—Katherine and Peter for their positions, and Mikito and myself for the trouble we caused on Earth. Of course, Katherine’s and Peter’s aren’t high enough to send anyone with sense after them, especially considering Peter has his cheat Skill, Diplomatic Immunity. On the other hand, Mikito and I have done enough damage to enough people that our bounties are significant enough that Ali felt the need to warn us of potential problems.
Katherine frowns. “What should we do? Will they take us as hostages?”
“Well, normally they’d either do that or just have you transfer all your belongings and Credits to them,” Ali says. “Or, you know, take you guys as slaves. But boy-o and Mikito make things a little more complicated.”
“Because of our bounty sizes?” I say.
“That too. But mostly because I don’t think you’re going to pay them off,” Ali says.
I chuckle ruefully as I finish buckling my belt. The damn Spirit knows me too well. Still leaves the question of what we should be doing. “We allowed to fight in the ship?”
“Allowed?” Katherine’s jaw drops. “When do you ever ask?”
“We’re not barbarians,” I say with a sniff.
“Boy-o’s worried he’s going to have to pay for damages. And while the captain and pilot would prefer you didn’t, they are covered under insurance,” Ali says.
“Great.” I grin, cracking my neck. “I’ve been missing a workout.”
“Yeah, about that…” Harry says, his eyes refocusing on me for a time. “Understand that if I add anything more, my Shop Skill will stop working.”
“You want protection.”
“Yes.”
“Done.”
Harry nods. “There are three Master and twenty-one Advanced Classes in the pirate ship. They’re armed and ready to deal with significant resistance on boarding.”
“Three Master Classes! Thousand hells,” I curse. “What are they doing out here?”
“Making money cheaply,” Ali says. “Payouts from the System and insurance companies are based off an intricate calculation of force, Pilot Skills, and ship firepower. The higher the weight on the pirates’ side, the higher the payout percentage. In this case, they’re shooting for a full payout.”
One of the strange aspects of interstellar travel that I’d learned was the way Skills made a difference. While the spaceships themselves could fly through space, hyperspace travel was a creation of the System—at least the way we did it. As such, the Skills of a Pilot made a huge difference, as did the captain’s secondary support Skills. I’d even heard of one Legendary Pilot who disdained the concept of normal spaceships and flew around a fully habitable planet.
“Levels?” I finally say. If they’re Level 1s or close to it…
“Eight, fourteen, and twenty-three.”
“Damn. And how do you know all this?” I look at Ali. “And how is it you don’t?”
“I’m buying the information from the Shop at a discounted rate,” Harry says, smiling thinly. “One of my Skills—Background Research—gives me access to information for stories I might write. Another, War Correspondence, allows me to access certain aspects of the Shop anywhere. It lets me file my reports and buy information as needed.”
“Nice,” I say.
Ali sniffs at me, indicating he’s affronted by my questioning of his ability. But I don’t have time to deal with the Spirit, as the others are looking to me for a plan. Which, frankly, is worrying in many ways but something I’ve gotten used to. That hesitant web developer is gone, burned away in the fires of the apocalypse.
“All right. I’m assuming we don’t have to worry about them destroying the ship?”
When Harry and Ali nod, I rub my chin. That’s good. Still, my brain keeps stalling on the fact that three Masters are involved. There’s really no way for me to win a fight against three Masters. Then again, I cast my memory back to the science fiction books and movies I’ve seen, and my eyes open wide.
“You thought of something, John?” Mikito says, perking up.
“I have. Maybe. Depends on a few things, but we’re going to need help. Katherine, Peter, can you find out how many of the other passengers are uninsured and willing to fight?”
Katherine steps back as her eyes glaze over, her mouth moving as she silently contacts the passengers she’s spoken to. Peter deals with the passengers on the observation deck, moving from group to group. His bodyguard trails after him.
“Now, Ali, Harry. Tell me, in detail, how pirate raids work. Step by step, as close as you can get it.”
Chapter 2
Interstellar combat, if you disregard cheat scenario abilities like Star Trek teleporters, have to follow certain rules. Firstly, you’ve got to catch your prey. That’s relatively easy to do when the System will give you details at the wave of a hand and the passing of a few Credits. Secondly, if you’re actually looking to board and take the ships or its’ passengers, you need to get your people over. That requires you to either connect your big, lumbering ship to another big, lumbering ship or, and this is definitely the preferred method, send over a smaller, more disposable shuttle. Or shuttles, I guess.
That, of course, makes ambushing them as they arrive the go-to method. The shuttle bays are the obvious chokepoint. Of course, if I know it’s an obvious chokepoint, the Galactics do too. There’s no way we’re going to out-maneuver these old hands if we play it safe. Even if they normally don’t have to deal with foolhardy foes, I’ve got to contend with a level of institutional knowledge. All that means is that we need to get creative.
Luckily, the first rule about space combat plays into our hands here. Both ships need to drop out of hyperspace, slow down till the pair matches velocities, then the shuttles have to make their way over. To ensure the merchant ship we’re on doesn’t randomly open fire and destroy their original ship, the pirates are keeping a good distance from us, forcing the shuttle to make its way across the expanse on its underpowered engines.
“Katherine. We good?” I speak aloud so everyone present can listen in. Crammed as we are in this room, there’s not much to divert people. Better for the volunteers to get some idea of what’s happening than stew in their own thoughts.
“I’m at the bridge with the captain and Pilot,” Katherine says. “They’ve reluctantly agreed to give me access to their sensors. Feed on the way.”
“Got it!” Ali sends to me mentally.
A moment later, a new notification screen appears. This notification screen is set to public, allowing my fellow uninsured a three-dimensional view of space around the merchant ship. The merchant ship is a big, blocky hexagon with a cone tip, rather than the sleek vehicle we’ve come to expect from aerodynamic planes. Galactic technology has become so trusted, there’s no need for windows anymore—beyond leisure requirements—so the bridge is situated in the center of the cone itself. The main thrusters are at the back of the ship, with smaller maneuvering thrusters dotted throughout the ship. While the ship can, and does, fly without the aid of the Pilot, his abilities make everything so much faster and more efficient.
In the distance, the pirate’s ship is menacing, a more ‘‘traditional” and sleek vessel that has more room for thrusters and shielding than our blocky merchant cruiser. The front of the pirate ship contains the mounts for their beam weaponry as well as extra armoring and shielding. Not that our merchant vessel stands a chance in a stand-up fight. A fast-moving blip crosses the distance between us.
“So you’re certain they won’t blow up the ship if they lose a lot of their men?” I mutter to Harry as Ali focuses on adding more data to the screen.
“Likely not. Pirates exist on a calculus of cost and nuisance. They’re a nuisance to interstellar trading, but so long as they aren’t too costly, no one will throw out a large Quest to rid the galaxy of them. Destroying interstellar ships automatically puts them in the ‘too costly to live’ column, and the Merchants Alliance will put up a Quest,” Harry reassures me softly. “It’s a fascinating facet of Galactic society. The articles on this are really interesting reading. I bet that given time, crime on Earth will look very much like this.”
“What, you mean it doesn’t already?” I say with a snort. “Pretty sure some of the gangs in the USA, the Yakuza, and a bunch of local warlords in the Middle East have figured that one out already.”
“True,” Harry says, his fingers wiggling as if he’s typing on an unseen keyboard. “I’ll have to add that to the article. I wonder if there’s a Class that could calculate exactly how much—”
With a slight roll of my eyes, I shift my gaze to the giant notification screen. Already I see lights popping up all over our now-wireframe ship as Ali adds known positions for all our people. Katherine, Peter, and a quarter of our fighting personnel are in the bridge, there to protect and safeguard the ambassador.
As I said, space fights like this have certain rules, if you exclude teleportation. Thankfully, most Class Skills that allow teleportation of some form, like my Blink Step or Portal ability, also have limitations. Most of which come down to knowing where you are teleporting to. There are, as I understand it, rare Skills and spells that let you teleport or Portal into unseen, unknown locations, but they come with a significant Mana cost and even larger risks. Since most merchant ships have anti-scrying wards built into them, it’s hard to get a good look at where you’re teleporting to. Add in the illusionists and other Classes whose entire grab bags include tricking people, and teleporting becomes a lot trickier. Teleporting into solid objects is generally fatal—to the teleportee, the teleporter, and everyone nearby. Still, if there’s a time and place for a Skill like that, pirating other ships in space seems to fit the bill. Which is why Katherine and Peter have guards.
“We have any updates on the shuttle?” I say, eyeing the rapidly approaching dot.
“Nothing yet,” Katherine says. “The sensors on this ship are less than stellar.”
“Okay,” I say.
I turn to look at Harry, who shakes his head. He isn’t reading my mind of course. It’s just that I’ve asked him before if he can purchase information about the shuttle occupants from the Shop. Unfortunately, his Skill has certain limitations—and details like that isn’t considered “background” knowledge. It doesn’t help that he’s directly involved now, putting further limits on his Skills.
“Can we go over the plan again?” a hesitant voice, filled with a lot of sibilant hisses, asks. The speaker is speaking in Galactic, a language whose base is draconic but modified for humanoid voices and mixed with the various languages of the elder races. Unsurprisingly, every single human downloaded that language from the Shop before we left.
The volunteers are a mixed bunch, a large percentage of them coming from the human guards that are part of the diplomatic team. The rest are a mixture of Adventurers who were too poor or too stubborn to pay for proper insurance, individuals looking for some mayhem, and a few merchant guards. The actual merchants themselves are, of course, covered. The Adventurers are a wide range of races—everything from your standard fantasy fare to a half-cyborg creature that rolls around on wheels, a floating blob of green jello with tentacles, and something that looks like a cross between a cockroach and a slug.
“Simple enough. If there’s only one Master Class in that shuttle, we hit them hard and roll them over. That’s unlikely to happen. More likely there’s at least two of them in there, potentially all three. In that case, we’re going to beat them in detail.” When the various human and non-human Adventurers stare at me, I shrug. “More details to arrive when we get more information. But Mikito has you split into various teams. When the Portal opens, you just need to go through on your turn and blast anything that isn’t on our side.”
There are a lot of uncomfortable looks at my words, but considering this entire group is a slapdash affair, more complicated plans are as likely to cause mayhem as anything. The American military have a saying—Keep It Simple Stupid (KISS), and frankly, my experience has been that that works. Then again, I’m no Rommel. I’ve just picked up a few things in my time.
“Remember what your roles are in your teams and concentrate on that. You’ve got your team leaders. They’ll highlight your targets. Team leaders should know who to take out first, but Master Classes need to be contained while you take down the small fry,” I say. “Beyond that, I’ll be focusing on the Masters as much as possible, along with Mikito.”
The bodyguards look relieved, the aliens a little more inscrutable. But I know, from what Peter said, the only reason they’re agreeing to this is because I’m here. Otherwise, even serfdom is generally better than death.
“John, we have twenty-three and a half life-signs on the shuttle,” Katherine’s voice cuts in before I can dig the hole any deeper.
“A half?”
“Hold on. I’m getting clarification. Yes, Peter? Draugr? That’s… well, okay.” Katherine pauses before she speaks again. “John? Can you ask Ali?”
“Ali?”
“You need me now?” Ali says, shooting a look at Harry before smirking. But he doesn’t hesitate long. “Draugr. Remember the little Richard problem we had? Yeah well, Draugr are another damn attempt to get around death.” Behind the Spirit, a number of the Galactic Adventurers nod and twitch, confirming the Spirit’s words. “They have a unique Class that makes them impervious to pain, have a visible level of regeneration, resistances against physical and magical attacks, and close combat Mana striking abilities.”
“Sounds like great soldiers.” Harry’s lips compress as his eyes focus on a spot a few feet from his face.
“Sure, if you like your soldiers psychopathic, prone to violent outbursts, and cannibalistic,” Ali says.
“Anything else we can get from the sensors?” I question Katherine.
You would think that shipboard sensors wouldn’t be able to gather data like Classes and you’d be right—if we were talking normal science. But there’s nothing normal about physics since the System came into play, especially not when Class Skills are in the equation. And the merchant ship, while not having the specialized roles of Sensor Technicians and their ilk like a warship might have, does have a captain and a helmsmen.
“One second.” A tense moment later—one that has the shuttle slide within a few inches of our ship on the screen—and Katherine’s speaking. “They’re going for docking bay four. And we have confirmation that all three Master Classes are on board. One is showing extremely high Mana density in their body. The other two are registering average and low levels.”
“Mage of some form then. And fighters,” I say. “Thanks. Let me know if there’s anything else.”
“Of course,” Katherine says. “Out.”
I fall silent, staring at the shuttle as it approaches and merges with our ship. There’s no sensation, no thunk or shift in the ship as the shuttle connects with the docking bay. The only real change is that Ali throws up a new screen, one showing the inside of the docking bay. Surprisingly, rather than the door cycling open like I’d expect, we get something coming right through the still-closed door. A ghostly crawling octopod exits the docking bay doors and surveys the surroundings. In moments, the ghost octopod is joined by another pair. The trio of ghosts split up and head down different exits.
“Sensor ghosts,” Ali explains. “They’re controlled by one of the Advanced Classes in there. Most of their kind have little in combat ability, but they’re rather hard to deal with without using magic. Mana-based attacks are the most effective.”
The docking bay doors finally cycle apart, both inner and outer hatches sliding open with a hiss that only happens in my head. While Force Shields are used as secondary and emergency stops, they’re unreliable under high-stress situations. Better to rely on actual, high-tension metal alloys for everyday use. The pirates pour out of the docking bay in waves, a quartet moving forward to set up mobile portable force shields as a reinforced strongpoint. Behind them, five more take station, watching over the room with beam rifles, wands, and bare hands. When they are certain things are clear, the remainder of the pirates swagger out. Immediately, Ali populates their Status information for everyone, even adding helpful little bracketed letters to indicate the Class stages. After all, with the sheer variety of Galactic Classes, it’s impossible for me to know all of their relative stages at a glance.
My eyes are drawn to the trio that come out near the front, idly strolling forward with an air of supreme confidence. I don’t even need the little M after their Classes to know they’re the Master Classes. The sizes of their health and Mana bars are sufficient. The first to catch my eye is a round, tubby, furred creature with stubby hands and legs and beady little eyes.
Muk Muk, Shaper of Kumak, Winner of the Three hundredth and eight Suar, … (Woven Shapeshifter Level 14) (M)
HP: 4290/4290
MP: 1030/1030
Conditions: Altered Shape, Elastic Skin, Muscular Reconstruction
“He’s a shapeshifter and he chose to look like that?” I say, shaking my head.
A quick review of the information Ali populates gives me a rough idea of what I’m dealing with. Melee fighter with the ability to shift forms to play tank or damage dealer, depending on the situation. His Skills buff either form, though unlike a specialized tank or damage dealer, he’s not as good.
“He might be specialized for space combat, boy-o,” Ali says. “So lots more tanking and damage dealing ability and fewer forms, especially big ass, pants-wetting ones.”
“Right,” I say, shifting my gaze to the next form and nearly missing him.
Klimaras, (Mercenary Commando Level 8) (M)
HP: 3100/3100
MP: 2783/3090
Conditions: Blind Spot, Sense Weakness, Shadow Friend, Force Shield
Stealth damage dealer. Pretty much an assassin rogue. The fact that the humanoid carries a series of knobbly rods is interesting. Also, even standing still, Klimaras seems to fade into the background, which speaks of some impressive stealth skills. And probably a few Skills thrown in on top of that. Keeping track of him will be important. Either block his first attack or die kind of thing.
The last figure is the most interesting. At first, I mistake the robotic body it manipulates—a bulbous monstrosity with a pair of rotating guns and liquid metal stalks for feet and arms—as the creature. But on closer inspection, I see a hand-sized humanoid sitting inside a clear-glass cockpit that bobs around inside a volume of gel, moving his hands in time to the movement of the robot. Pink hair, a pair of hands, and a single fin make up the Master Classer in the robot.
Yidma, Overgeared (Artifact Tinkerer Level 23) (M)
HP: 430/430
MP: 2893/3820
Conditions: Shielded, Armed and Armored, Artifact Connection * 7
“What’s it doing?” I frown, staring as the robot works on setting up something on the floor.
The pirates don’t look to be in any particular hurry, standing around and eyeing the doors leading to the docking bay while their sensor ghosts scout out the surroundings.
“Teleportation pad. Probably keyed to artifacts on the boarding team.” This voice is squeaky and low.
I look sideways to stare at the Pooskeen Adventurer who answered me. I almost glare at him before I rein in my irritation. Just because his race tried to kill me doesn’t mean he’s going to. Or at least, I try to tell myself that.
“Tinkerers are more support Classes, replicating Spells and Skills via their gear,” the Pooskeen says.
I offer my nod of thanks while turning my attention to the last pirate of interest.
Draugr U-129, Doom of the Waza, Cannibal (Advanced Draugr Level 18) (A)
HP: 3110/3110
MP: 150/150
Conditions: Draugr, Envenomed Claws, Paralyzing Bite, Undead Resistance
“Pretty damn low Mana,” I say.
“The Draugr’s condition uses a lot of Mana, reducing their total Mana Pool. It also affects their regeneration significantly,” Ali says.
“Tough looking son of a bitch,” Harry says, staring at the Draugr.
The creature is crouched, chewing on a piece of meat whose origin I don’t want to consider. The creature is humanoid, with clawed fingers that are disproportionately long, hips that sit way too high on the body, and a grey-scaled, flaking body. The Draugr has no armor, clothing, or weapons, though the fanged teeth and claws are weapon enough.
After that, I let my eyes dance over the rest of the pirate crew, taking in details. A lot of individuals with beam weaponry, though almost all of them carry melee weapons of one form or another. Very few dedicated spellcasters, and of those, most are healers. A quick explanation by Ali reminds me to watch my own spells. No one wants to be shot out into space because some idiot spellcaster forgot to tone down his fireball.
With the information turning over in my mind, I settle on a plan as the nervous lizard-creature speaks up again. “Are we going to attack them? What are we going to do?”
“We’re going to wait. Mostly,” I say. “Katherine, send out team four and two. Put yourself on an intercept course with those sensor ghosts. I want them destroyed.”
“Roger.”
“Got it, John.”
I watch as the teams head out, the dots on the wireframe shifting as Ali does his best to keep track of the sensor ghosts and our people. Thankfully, my Level increases have pushed up the little Spirit’s ability to wield a much greater influence on the System. And, when things become necessary, he can enlarge his body and materialize to kick some ass. Surprisingly, the Spirit has gone back to staying in his smaller form for the most part, seeming to prefer being tiny, semi-translucent, and invisible to most.
“They’re splitting up.” Mikito says, bringing my attention back to the docking bay screen.
As she said, the three Master Classes are splitting up. Two groups leave, led by one Master Class each, in the direction of the cockpit and engines. The Tinkerer stays behind, working diligently to set up more fortifications and defenses, including a pair of large turrets.
Tinkerer-Modified Limi Flame Throwers
They’re modified flame throwers, boy-o, supported as much by the Tinkerer’s Skills as they are by actual working technology. Damage is going to be extremely high, so try not to get burnt.
Damage: ??/??
Rate of Fire: ??/??
Capacity: ??/??
Not particularly helpful, but it’s clear that the longer the Tinkerer has to work, the more of his toys he’ll be able to build. Still, I’m forced to wait till the pirate teams are a decent distance from each other. One advantage we have is that the merchant ship is huge.
“Team four here. Sensor ghost down.”
“Good,” I say, eyeing the suddenly fast-moving group nearest them. “Retreat to hold 4 – 3.”
“Roger.” Our team’s dot moves fast. Which is good. Except…
“Oy, idiots. The other way,” Ali speaks up before I do. He takes over giving them directions while muffled curses from the group erupt over the joint channel.
I ignore it all, eyeing the other sensor ghosts, who have slowed down and are darting through walls at a more regular pace. Unfortunately, our attacks mean that the pirate teams have sped up.
“Team two. Pull back.” Their acknowledgement is ignored as I turn to the rest of the volunteers around me. “Get ready. We’re going in.”
I meet Mikito’s eyes, knowing that the Samurai knows what I want. She gives me a half smile, her naginata in hand as she readies herself to dart through the Portal, casting Haste and other buffing spells on herself. All around us is the dim glow of various beneficial spells layering on the group, healing, mana, and defensive spells popping up one after the other. I take the time to layer my own Soul Shield on myself and Mikito before adding a third on Harry.
“Ready,” Mikito says.
Activating the Class Skill takes a few seconds of concentration. The moment the pitch-black Portal opens, Mikito darts through. The other end of the Portal opens up right in front of the docking bay doors. It gives Mikito a fraction of a second of surprise—more than enough time for the Samurai to attack. Rather than going for any single individual, she darts forward, intent on destroying their teleportation portal.
The rest of the teams jump through, one after the other, firing weapons, casting single-target spells, and activating Skills in a rush of destruction. One team swerves left, the other right, focusing their fire on the flame throwers that have turned around. Unfortunately, hidden shielding keeps them in working order, the spells, bullets, and beams splashing harmlessly against them.
“Oooh, rats coming through the Portal. How annoying…” the Tinkerer says.
Even as the Tinkerer turns toward the teleportation portal, Mikito’s Charge smashes apart the defensive shielding around it, tearing apart the contraption. As her naginata buries itself in the sensitive machinery, Hitoshi glows, Mana flooding the artifact.
“My pad! Damn you. That took months to build. How did you break the shielding? No. I’ll just have to take that weapon of yours. I can see it’s an artifact, oh yes.” The beam weapons on Yidma’s robotic form fires even while its legs patter over to the side, where new liquid-metal tendrils extend, patching together new machine parts that appear from its inventory.
“Move, people,” I snarl at the teams bunched up around the Portal.
I’ve kept the size of the Portal big enough for two people to go through at a time so that stray attacks from the other side don’t come bouncing back, but it also creates a bit of a chokepoint. Especially when the Adventurers and bodyguards hesitate about jumping through.
Heat washes through as the flame throwers kick in, burning a few unlucky, unshielded Adventurers. The teams on the other side are doing their best to take down the shields, but they’re hampered by the dozens of tiny drones the Tinkerer is throwing out and still building. I watch as the health of one slick-furred creature drops as it’s lit up in yellow and green flames. Hastily cast Healing spells extend its agony as the weapons chew through him.
“Boy-o, those shields are reforming based off his Mana. It’s a Class Skill,” Ali says. “You’re going to have to hit hard enough to pierce the active regeneration or take him out.”
Frack it.
“Move!” I tear past the group, in a couple of cases literally tossing my allies aside as I push forward. A moment’s concentration and the Portal slides open wider, allowing me to dive straight into the inferno. Already, I see the integrity of my Soul Shield drop as the damage ticks up. “Portal closing. Wait for orders!”
That’s about all the warning I have time to give as both pairs of flame throwers, a newly constructed beam cannon, and something that shoots metallic spikes focus fire on me. I swear mentally, wondering why I didn’t just charge in myself first.
My Soul Shield shatters under the onslaught, flames washing over my body even as the first spike impales my raised left arm. I cut another aside as the beam scorches my side, then I see my target. Blink Step takes me right above him, my favorite position to unleash a multi-bladed Blade Strike. Each arc of solidified force and Mana-edged strikes cut toward Yidma, only to be stopped inches away by a solidified Mana Shield.
Yidma, Overgeared (Artifact Tinkerer Level 23) (M)
HP: 430/430
MP: 1278/3820
Conditions: Shielded, Armed and Armored, Artifact Connection * 7
Shield Integrity: 874/2037
“Oh, another Master Class. No wonder the rats have some guts,” the Tinkerer says.
I land, my sword bouncing off its shield. The replica blades from Thousand Blades miss as the robot scurries backward. In his place, he drops a pair of four-legged drones with hammers for hands that swing at my knees. A portion of my mind splits, focusing on increasing both my Strength and Agility to root me in this reality more strongly. The action makes me the immovable object the drones pound on, throwing them off-balance. It’s a fraction of a second, but that’s more than enough for me to cut them apart with my conjured Soulbound sword.
“Boy-o, you’re going to get incoming in about six minutes. Draugr is coming back, hell-bent on having a good tasting, and I’ve lost track of the Commando,” Ali reports in.
“Other Master Classer?”
“Still on his way to the engine room.”
“ETA?” I’m cutting through the swarm of drones that the Tinkerer keeps creating or pulling from the other Adventurers. He’s entirely focused on me, which is great, except for the fact that I can’t get to him.
“Three minutes. He’s cutting through the doors like crazy.”
Snarling, I throw up a Soul Shield and charge forward, putting everything I have into the direct attack. I throw on Vanguard of the Apocalypse and Thousand Steps, giving me a slight boost in speed and strength. The drones crash and spin off my Soul Shield, monofilament blades and Mana-charged beams failing to penetrate.
Then I’m at the damn Tinkerer and slamming into his shield with my sword. A second later, the remainder of the trailing swords from my Thousand Blades Skill smash into the shield, and together, we overload the Tinkerer’s ability to stop the attack. Up close and personal, I grab hold of the bulbous body, charging an Enhanced Lightning Strike in that same hand even as I lift. A moment later, I’ve interposed the Tinkerer between his drones and me. Then I release the built-up charge of lightning in my hand.
Funny thing. Electricity set free in a metallic structure has a tendency to ground itself—fast. Even with a part of me guiding the flow of electricity using my Elemental Affinity, the vast majority of it floods right through the Tinkerer’s robot’s metallic legs into the floor, rather than jumping to the drones. And being the closest meatbag, I’m eating a ton of free electrons. It creates a feedback that has me clenching my teeth so hard they could shatter and causes smoke to peel off my skin. If I could scream, I would.
Artifact Tinkerer Slain
+249,381 Experience Gained
The experience notification flashes right in front of my eyes, along with a loud chime, clear enough that it cuts through the pain. I stop the channeling and sag to my feet, groaning as I shudder from the pain. Damn Tinkerer must have had a billion and one resistances in that bot to have survived so long. As it stands, my own health is down by nearly seven hundred points, never mind the rest of the damage I’ve taken from the Tinkerer’s other toys.
John Lee (Level 23 Erethran Paladin)
HP: 2238/3470
MP: 1873/3220
“No kneeling on the job,” Mikito cries out, dancing past me as she cuts apart a pair of drones. A wave of her polearm and an arc of flame and Mana explodes forward, catching a pair of Advanced pirates. Like living energy, the flames wrap around the three, holding them still for precious seconds as Mikito continues to dart through the docking bay, bringing aid and destruction as necessary.
“And where were you when I needed help?” I grumble as I stagger upward. But I know it’s a bit silly of me to complain. I’m the Master Classer, and Mikito had her hands full with the rest of the pirates.
An explosion turns my attention to one of the two flame throwers, now a melted wreck. Surprisingly, the second isn’t being attacked any longer, as the team focused on it turns their attention to a trio of pirates. Both groups are hunkered behind mobile barriers, trading spells and bullets while a still body lies between the two groups. As I raise my sword to cut down the flame thrower, it fires on a pirate, catching the half-hippo creature in the back with a concentrated blast of fire. All around, I realize that our side has the upper hand.
“Tick-tock. Two minutes till engineering falls,” Ali says.
My eyes narrow, thoughts whizzing by at a thousand, a million, miles an hour. Even then, my hands move to pull and down a Mana potion and a Healing potion. A wash of green light sees my Health shoot up as one of the healers on our side finally gets around to helping.
“Mikito, you’re in charge.” I’m already forming the Portal to our holding room, ducking inside as I idly cut apart another drone.
No time to hear her answer, but I trust the Samurai has this. Hopefully she’s got the Draugr.
Back in the holding room, I release the Portal and form the next one, barking orders out even as I do so. “The rest of you, we’ve got another Master Classer to kill. Ali, you’re with me.”
“John, do you need help?” Katherine’s voice breaks in as the Portal forms and the Adventurers stream out.
A couple hold back, but I don’t have time to deal with the cowards. Katherine’s worried enough to even show up in video, so I’m treated to seeing my ex-secretary wearing my ex-mecha. Sabre looks good on her and, with all the upgrades, will help keep her alive longer. It pains me a little to have given it away, but at my Level, it’s not that useful.
“Negative. Stay out of it. We’ll handle them,” I say.
Except that’s a bit of a lie. I’m down a third of my Mana and health and we’re only a third of the way done, the softest target down. Unfortunately, since we’ve lost sight of the third Master Class, I can’t pull Katherine’s people off her. I enter the Portal the moment it’s clear then shut it, leaving behind the cowards as the teams set up the next hard point.
We don’t even try hiding—there’s no time and chances are it’d be of no use. There are so many ways for the wary to pick us out, there’s no way we could hide all of us. Especially since they know we’re fighting back. Too bad this area is pure metal or else I’d even throw up some Mud Walls. But I don’t have a Metal Wall spell, so I make do with a couple of portable shield generators then pull out my latest toy.
Silversmith Jeupa VII Anti-Personnel Cannon (Modified & Upgraded)
This quad-barrelled anti-personnel weapon has been handcrafted by Advanced Weaponsmiths to provide the highest integration possible for an energy weapon. This particular weapon has been modified to include additional range-finding and sighting options and upgraded to increase short-term damage output at the cost of long-term durability. Barrels may be fired individually or linked.
Base Damage: 787 per barrel
Battery Capacity: 4 per barrel (16 total)
Recharge Rate: 0.25 per hour per GMU
The entire thing is nearly eight feet long, a pair of stabilizing tripods required to keep the beam rifle working. The moment I have the canon deployed, Ali flies over and patches directly into the weapon’s auto-targeting software, feeding it all the information he can.
“Damn it, that’s my toy,” I say, stepping away and pulling a much smaller and less powerful rifle into my hands.
“Once you can read machine code and tap into the System, you can have it back.”
Snorts of suppressed laughter erupt around me, everyone a little on edge. I ignore it all, watching the little dots in my minimap approach. Since I have the time—and knowing the kind of fight I’m expecting—I trigger all my Shield options, including the one in my ring, before continuing to drain my Mana battery. Constant low-level increases in my health come from healing spells cast on me and the System regeneration, pushing me up to nearly three quarters full.
“Incoming,” Ali’s voice cuts through my thoughts.
A moment later, the pirates turn the corner. A few hasty shots are snapped off, either blocked by shields or swatted aside on both sides.
“Hold your fire.” I don’t blame them—the Shapeshifter is a bit jaw-dropping. This must be its tank form, since the creature is armored in thick, overlapping plates of bone and metal on its six-footed, multi-eyed form. The damn thing looks like a pissed-off ankylosaur, and as it charges, glowing green streaks of light form all around it.
“Hold!”
Muk Muk covers a dozen yards in the time I take to speak. I watch out of the corner of my eyes how the power charges up in Ali’s cannon, how spells and beam weaponry increase in their damage potential. And I weigh the options in my mind.
“Hold!”
Another dozen yards.
“Fire!”
Ali hoots as the anti-personnel cannon throws out green rays of death. Just the ancillary heat from the passing beam is enough to damage my Soul Shield. And the cannon is only the first weapon to fire. It’s joined by dozens of other beam rifles, bullets, railguns, and yes, the occasional enchanted arrow. On top of that, targeted spells fly down range, as well as a few carefully controlled area effect spells. A pair of crouched humans weave a Grasping Hands spell, forming transparent, semi-solid limbs that grab and grip the pirates as they rush past, slowing down the entire group.
Into this storm of death, the pirates’ erstwhile leader charges, his green light deflecting a portion of the damage. The rest of the attack break through his Skill and begins to cut through the remainder of his Force Shield defenses before they finally reach the Shapeshifter’s armor. Immediately, the armor glows red from the heat, but rather than melting, it seems to disperse the damage.
Ali’s already on his third charge, the anti-tank cannon never seeming to stop firing, and we’ve barely scratched the Master Class. Sheltered behind Muk Muk, the pirates push forward, only a few unlucky bastards caught in the fire.
Seeing the damn monster continue his charge, the team around me wavers. Rather than let them break, I decide to go for broke. The Aura of Chivalry flows out from me, covering the battleground and drawing the attention of our enemies. The moment my Aura hits the pirates is visible, even the Master Class stumbling in its track. That pause is enough for another group of hands to grab its legs, slowing it down further.
Aura of Chivalry (Level 1)
A Paladin’s very presence can quail weak-hearted enemies and bolster the confidence of allies, whether on the battlefield or in court. The Aura of Chivalry is a double-edged sword, however, focusing attention on the Paladin—potentially to their detriment. Increases success rate of Perception checks against Paladin by 10% and reduces stealth and related skills by 10% while active. Reduces Mana Regeneration by 5 permanently.
Effect: All enemies must make a Willpower check against intimidation against user’s Charisma. Failure to pass the check will cow enemies. All allies gain a 50% boost in morale for all Willpower checks and a 10% boost in confidence and probability of succeeding in relevant actions.
Note: Aura may be activated or left off at will.
All around me, I feel the group’s resistance firm up while one unlucky or particularly weak-willed pirate actually turns around and runs. I drop my beam rifle back into my inventory and step around the shields, raising my hand and calling forth my sword.
“Time to end this,” I say with a savage smile, swinging my sword down.
All around me, a dozen replica blades appear. The penultimate attack Skill of an Erethran Honor Guard triggers as the blades slice down, forming empowered blade strikes that slice through space and set fire to the very air and the shapeshifter. The monster might have defense and ablative armoring. It might be able to soak up hundreds of points of damage with its armor. But my own Class Skills are a hard counter, Penetration letting me rip through the armor and shielding.
Light fills the corridor, followed by thunder. Smoke from superheated metal and burned flesh hangs heavy in the corridor. As the smoke clears, it’s obvious that not much of the corridor survived my attack.
Below, scraping sounds. I step forward, looking down to see the Master Class staggering back to its feet. My lips pull wide into a grin and I jump down, continuing our dance.
Chapter 3
“You destroyed three floors in that fight of yours!” The captain of the ship, an angular merman waving his flippered hand at me, is rather agitated. So much so that the rebreather apparatus stuck around his scaled gills is struggling to keep up.
“The Shifter was tough,” I say with a shrug.
Even using Army of One, I only managed to lower the creature’s health pool by half. That the attack had also torn apart the upper and lower levels was unfortunate. Since the majority of the pirates had managed to evade the collapse of the floor, I’d left to fight the Shifter on the lower decks while my strike team mopped up the separated pirates. With the anti-personnel cannon and Ali, it was a simple enough job.
Not that dealing with the Master Class was easy. Once he realized he was only fighting me, the son of a bitch had shifted forms to something smaller and faster, basically forcing me into a running battle through the ship corridors. It only ended when word came that all the “normal” pirates had been dealt with, including the Draugr.
Surprisingly, the Master Class Commando didn’t make an appearance until the very end, when the pirates decided to call it a day. Rather than fight and destroy even more of the ship, we called a truce while I escorted the Shapeshifter back to the loading docks. From the cold looks the pair of surviving Master Class pirates shared as they exited through the docking doors, I had a feeling they’d have words on their ship.
“Tough or not, you tore up three floors and had a running battle through another floor. We had to delay for an entire day while my men patched the holes in the hull!” the captain complains. “Why, I should charge you for the damages.”
“And double dip? I’m sure your insurance will pay for it. And if you try to come after me, I’ll make sure everyone knows the kind of person you are. I wonder how many more passengers you’ll get if they know you won’t honor even the basic customs of the Galactic sphere?”
The captain’s lips press thin before he stomps off. I chuckle softly, watching the merman flop away, before I turn to Katherine and Peter, who have been standing quietly to the side.
“Are you okay?” Katherine asks, her eyes roving over my body.
I’d taken the time to change clothing, so outside of some soot and blood, I look the same as always. Mass purchasing for the win!
“Fine.” I grin. “Don’t even have to regrow any limbs this time.”
Katherine cocks an eyebrow. “We saw some of your battle with the Shapeshifter. When the cameras lasted at least. It looked violent.”
“Eh, it wasn’t so bad. He was a tad too fast to get a proper hit on in his agile form, but he was bouncing around too much to get in any real hits on me. Tore up my stuff real good, but it looked bloodier than it was dangerous.”
“Those spinning swords of yours are rather interesting. Though they hampered your movements too,” Peter says, pointing out one issue with my Thousand Blades Skill.
Once created, the swords follow the path of the original, but because I have a tendency to summon and unsummon the original sword, trajectories can get strange. While Intelligence increases don’t necessarily translate to a “smarter” person in the way we think it should, the System seems to pick up on what we’ve done before and grow our abilities in that direction. Mostly. In my case, one of the side effects of my high Intelligence is the ability to recognize, understand, and manipulate the angles of my trailing swords. It still requires practice to do it consistently, since knowing and doing are two different things. Even so, there’s no way I could fight the way I do without the Intelligence increases I’ve had.
It also comes in real handy when playing pool.
“Always a negative with Skills. You just have to figure them out,” I say. “Though, I’ll admit, most are easy. Too high Mana cost.” I look directly at Peter, who grimaces, probably recalling his own ultimate ability, Diplomatic Immunity. Like my Sanctum, it protects against all attacks, but unlike mine, it only works on sentients. “Or a high level of side effects.”
“Well, in either case, the pirates have left. I doubt we’ll face another. It’s bad form to attack a merchant ship more than once on a route. Never mind how unlucky we were to get hit anyway,” Katherine says.
“You know, sometimes the Galactic System reminds me more of a third-world country than a developed nation.” When I get puzzled looks back, I explain. “More corruption, more accepted corruption, than in Canada or the US. Well, surface-level corruption. I mean, pirates? Sects that run roughshod over everyone? And of course, the various empires that fight each other.”
“It’s because of all the empires and other interest groups vying with each other that pirates and their kind exist,” Peter says, correcting me. “A good portion of those pirates are privateers in actual fact. Ships are forced to purchase insurance from multiple kingdoms if they decide to traverse between different principalities, increasing their costs and greasing even more palms. Those that refuse to do so… well, they might find their names discreetly handed over to a privateer. And it goes on, from criminal organizations to sects to corporations and even Guilds. If there’s a way to game the System for their own good, sentients will find it.”
I nod slowly. It’s similar, I guess, to what I’ve been reading. As much as Galactic Society has accepted the fact that the System controls, well, everything, they also push its boundaries all the time. Guilds are meant to be non-political, non-aligned. It’s why they’re allowed to own land in multiple locations without being the actual settlement or land owner. Unlike, say, a kingdom, whose access and ownership of such a location would automatically make it part of their kingdom. To skip around that, they have to rely on individual ownership, which is a dangerous exploit. But there’s nothing to stop a Guild from being staffed with people aligned with one empire or kingdom. And so, rules are bent. Or the way monarchies and their noble classes form, because that way, lines of fealty can be created which both work within the System and also bend its rules.
Speaking of kingdom-owned locations… “Did you work out how setting up the diplomatic mission is going to work?”
“Of course.” Katherine sniffs. “Some of us read our correspondence.”
“You’re not still bitter about that, are you?” I grin. I admit, I had a tendency to avoid reading most of my mail after Katherine hired herself as my secretary. I only ever bothered to read items she highlighted as important and urgent.
Katherine scowls at me before relenting with a wave. “No. It was the right decision actually. Your skills were better used elsewhere.”
“So. The mission?”
“Is relatively simple on the surface,” Peter says. “We arrive at the Prax Solar System, dock at the main station, and transfer down to Irvina using the visas provided to us. Once we’ve provided the visas at the station, our diplomatic status is registered with the Galactic Council. We then have six months to locate a permanent residence in Irvina to set up the mission itself.”
“And you’re able to buy land for Earth?” I say, cocking my head to the side.
“Yes. Unfortunately, the city is huge and the locations we can purchase are limited, so we expect there to be significant issues,” Peter says. “Once we arrive, Katherine will focus on finding us a long-term location while I reach out to our erstwhile allies for help.”
“The Truinnar should be able to help with that, right?” I say.
“You would think so,” Katherine says with a sniff. “But we’re a small ally to them. Even if we’ve managed to do something no other Dungeon World has done, all it means in the Galactic sense is that they’ve got another vote. And a better deal for coming to Earth. For all that, they aren’t bending over backward to help us. At least not on the Empire level. There’s some hope with the Duchess, but we’ll have to see about that in person.”
I nod in acceptance of her words and figure they’ve got it mostly covered. I then take my leave before they drag me in any further. I’ve made my desire to leave, once we actually arrive at Irvina, clear. As Harry noted, Mikito and I have generated quite a bit of animosity with our actions. Being part of the official diplomatic mission would only cause trouble for them. As best as we can, I’d prefer for us to disassociate with the mission and Earth itself as much as possible.
Of course, that’s harder than it seems because Mikito and I are backup security for the mission for now. While Katherine has her own security team, none of them are Master Classes. With the chaos happening on Earth after Bipasha’s assassination, we need the few Master Classes we do have there. Until the Secret Service and their ilk Level up enough, Mikito and I are the closest things to heavy-hitters Katherine has to call upon. So we’re going in under their diplomatic visas, no matter how much I’d prefer not to.
Not that I have much choice anyway. Irvina—and the whole planet of Prax—is a restricted area. Entering their solar system, never mind the capital itself, is heavily restricted due to the sheer number of interested parties. The only other way to do so is with sufficient Galactic Reputation. And for myself, well…
Galactic Reputation: 2
Galactic Fame: 2,308
That Galactic Fame number might seem high, but it mostly all comes from Earth. It’s the sum total of the average fame level I have on Earth in each region, so while it looks high, it’s only on the level of say, an international boy band before the System. Known enough by name, but damned if you could tell the difference between each singer. On a Galactic scale, I’m nothing.
As for my reputation, well, it’s even more pitiful. While I made and completed a ton of deals during the run-up to the vote, when Bipasha was killed and the damn Senator refused to honor some of those deals, I lost a lot of reputation too. That Rob then proceeded to negotiate deals directly with the affected parties to pacify them gave me a new, unpleasant, and personal view of politics.
In any case, even with all that garbage, Galactic Reputation is difficult to generate. Moving the needle on the Galactic level requires a significant level of fame, positions, and deals.
Funnily enough, Mikito’s numbers are much better.
Mikito Sato, Spear of Humanity, Blood Warden (Middle Samurai Level 46)
HP: 1990/1990
MP: 1400/1400
Conditions: Isoide, Jin, Rei, Meiyo, Ishiki, Ryoyo
Galactic Reputation: 8
Galactic Fame: 7,783
No surprise her fame is higher than mine. For one thing, she didn’t spend four years stuck in a hellhole of a Forbidden Zone. Even if that act itself is particularly impressive, it’s not particularly useful for increasing my Fame, and since I’m not out for glory, I’ve not been highlighting my little jaunt. Mikito, in my four-year absence, ran around the world doing good deeds, killing monsters, and clearing dungeons galore. Add the fact that she’s managed to gain some Fame in the Galactic Arenas and it’s no surprise she’s ticking higher than I am. Furthermore, without a bunch of bad deals pulling her down, her Reputation is pretty good too. For a newcomer Galactic at least.
“Why are you staring at me?” Mikito asks suspiciously.
“I’m not…” I pause then shake my head. “I’m looking at your Status. You picked up quite a few Levels since I got back.”
Mikito grins. “You’re not the only one who can cheat.”
“Do I want to know?”
“Depends. Are you interested in entering the Arena again?”
“Ah,” I say, shaking my head.
Of course. The experience and gold tithe. And now that the lady is tapping into a Galactic audience, her numbers are creeping up. Add in the numerous dungeons we’ve cleared and the battles we’ve fought for the vote, and well…
Not to be dissuaded, Mikito presses on. “Why were you checking out my Status?”
“Just thinking about our arrival. If we use our visas, we can get in. But that ties us to Earth.”
“We have another option?” Mikito says.
“Not that I can think of.”
“Then don’t worry about it.”
I grunt and head back to my room. She’s right, but I can’t help but think that there’s got to be a better way. Or that opening up Earth to our problems is just asking for trouble.
Days later, the merchant ship finally exits hyperspace and begins the long trip through mundane space to the planet Prax. Technically, we’re actually going to Prax III, the largest and main space station that guards the planet’s orbit. The station is so large, it could be considered a minor moon. Of course, Prax III isn’t the only space station, with smaller stations set up equidistant in the pole positions around the planet. But Prax III is where entrance to Irvina is determined.
Prax III is constructed as a series of interconnected spokes around a cylindrical structure. Ships of differing sizes are housed along each spoke, docking at the stations and off-loading cargo and personnel as necessary. At the largest end are some of the in-system cargo ships, a couple of kilometers in length, while smaller, nimbler personal craft docks closer to the spokes.
As a mid-sized cargo vessel, we dock about a third of the way up one spoke. The rest of the passengers are requested to unload first, so us humans have a nice view of the cargo vessel unloading. Not surprisingly, the vast majority of the work is completed via robots, mostly controlled by a few Technomancer and Loader Classes. It’s a beautiful ballet of movement, with multiple loader arms crawling across the hull of the ship. Unfortunately, what gets moved out are mostly containers, so I find myself bored with the process in minutes.
“What are they off-loading anyway?” I ask Katherine.
“The usual—monster drops, some of the higher-ranked crafted items from Earth, and some of the local delicacies. You probably know that one.” Katherine points at a container that looks like every other. Seeing my puzzled look, the woman smirks. “Yukon gold.”
“Ah, the beer!” I smile. One of my better investments actually.
For that matter, I take a moment to access my notification screens and check out my holdings. While I gave up the settlements, I still have a number of holdings in my name. Of course, most of them are under a management contract with Lana’s investment company in the Yukon, but the random burnt-out buildings, residences, and stores that I purchased to have a good night’s sleep in while traveling amount to a small fortune. Especially now that the towns and cities they’re in aren’t complete wrecks. Well, most of them.
I flick through the long, long list before I locate the information about the Yukon brewing company. As a direct shareholder and as a shareholder of the investment company, I have pretty much full access to their financials. My eyes widen when I see the details.
“How much?” I choke out in bewilderment when I see the gross revenue numbers.
“You finally bothered to check your holdings?” Katherine says with a slight smirk.
“The company’s grown a little,” I say weakly.
“A little. They are really quite thankful you’ve been willing to forego any return on your investments to allow them to continue investing in their production capacity. It seems that the ‘Dungeon World Brew’ has gained quite a following in Galactic markets,” Katherine says teasingly.
“Right. I did say that, didn’t I?” Explains why I’ve never seen a single Credit from that investment.
Hyper intelligence pulls the memory from my mind, a conversation held years ago, when I first gave the money to Lana. I told her to invest any returns, to build up the economy of Whitehorse, to give people jobs and a purpose when they had lost everything. So many years ago that I forgot all about it. It didn’t seem to matter when we were fighting, and then… well. Forbidden Zone. After that, I had another big fight and the vote and it was just never something I thought about.
I guess that makes me a bad Chinese, not caring about Credits at all. My father is probably turning in his grave over the careless way I’ve treated funds. But somewhere along the way, between the apocalypse and the trail of bodies I’ve left behind, material goods have become insignificant. Illusionary even.
A small part of me, a guilty part, wonders if it’s an unconscious way to punish myself. To serve penance. For all the innocents, all the lives, I could never save. For all the ills, all the destruction I failed to stop. A blade will kill a monster, but it cannot heal an injury. My blade could not give solace to those who survived or give direction to their broken lives.
“John?” Katherine’s voice interrupts my gloomy musings.
“Sorry.” I stare at the holding information for a second more before dismissing it. Not much use to me now. Not as if I can contact them to make any changes at the moment, and I don’t really want to. If I die—no, when I die—at least some good will have come of my existence.
So.
What is, is.
“Looks like it’s our turn,” Peter interrupts my musings.
I offer the man a tight smile. Right. Onward and upward.
Are all Customs checkpoints the same? The same individual barriers, the same stern-faced officials who stare at you and their screens, acting as though they can see all your deepest, darkest, most perverted dreams? Sure, the Galactic Customs at Prax has the novelty of Galactics manning the station—meaning that there are numerous alien and fantasy races—but the set up itself is the same.
“John Lee. Redeemer of the Dead. Correct?” the Customs official says.
Staring at the giant, green, bug-eyed creature, I can see myself reflected hundreds of times in its compound eyes. That it can make even marginally understandable sounds from those mandibles is astounding. “Yes.”
“You are attempting to enter Irvina via a secondary diplomatic visa issued to the newly created seat for Earth, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Very well. You understand the limitations and expectations of your visa?” Bug-eye says.
“Not exactly.”
“Then I recommend you read them in detail. However, in short, you are not allowed to vote in local elections. You only have non-citizen rights which means no access to local counsel, legal, and welfare services. You may only access the local dungeons after registering with an appropriate Adventurers Guild and receiving the necessary clearance. Doing so will require you to pay an initial access fee, then a portion of all your earnings will be taxed on the non-citizen tax rate. Breaches of the law will be charged under the secondary provisions for non-citizens, and felony charges will, at the minimum, see the banishment of offenders from Prax system.”
I nod. One of the things that was required for us taking the ship at all was a download of all applicable Galactic and Irvina laws. In truth, once I’d paid for and downloaded the information, I’d felt extremely cheated. Galactic law is somewhat simplistic.
There’s not a lot of it, since issues like public littering, graffiti, and defacement are non-issues due to the System dealing with those minor inconveniences. As for property ownership and retail, well, it’s basically caveat emptor. A lot of the truly scummy predators are kept in check via the Reputation system. So while there’s significant pressure to get the best deal possible, the products themselves are often sold truthfully. Just, perhaps, with a few issues that aren’t mentioned.
The Galactic Council doesn’t bother with issues like local welfare, leaving that to local systems and groups. If there’s one advantage of the System, it’s that it’s hard for your “average” citizen to starve—food, Mana, and basic items are dirt cheap. That being said, hard isn’t impossible. Of course, progressing above what is basic subsistence living is more difficult. Even so, to a human from the twentieth century, the “minimum” standard of living of a Galactic is sci-fi cool.
The vast majority of Galactic law revolves around felonies, specifically violence. Firstly, dueling is not only allowed but recognized. Considering the sheer volume and variety of violent Classes, it’s no surprise that a violent solution to disagreements is acceptable. Since duels have to be acknowledged by both parties via the System, it is possible to turn down duels. Of course, that impacts one’s fame in many cases, unless the degree of fame and reputation between the two parties is significant. After all, a Heroic Class individual isn’t likely going to be bothered by being challenged by a Basic Class Artisan. And a Combat Classer challenging an Artisan of any sort is considered bad form and impacts both reputation and fame.
Outside of duels, murder is considered bad in the wider galaxy. Once you leave Dungeon Worlds, killing others has consequences. While self-defense is a valid defense, like our human systems, there are courts, jail time, and deductions to Reputation outside of specific circumstances. Like, you know, defending against piracy. If a Justicar, Tribunal, or other law enforcer ends up checking on the incident and rules against you, bounties can easily be placed. In such cases, the Justicar or other law enforcer may use a portion of the deceased’s lost goods and Credits as collateral for the bounty. It’s why higher Classed law enforcers are feared. They can even quadruple the bounty on an individual.
Outside of death, very few things are considered major crimes. On-going torture, certain kinds of sexual assault, body, mind, and soul-jacking are on that list. Short-term torture and harassment are considered fineable offenses, not even at the level of a full felony—unless it’s an on-going harassment. And even then, punishment is only applicable if a properly designated law enforcement Class is around to act on it.
Prax law isn’t much better. Oh, there are some details about welfare, training, employment laws, and the like, but it’s mostly useless for someone like me who isn’t a citizen. Caveat emptor covers the vast majority of what I need to know.
“That’s fine. I don’t intend to cause any trouble,” I say.
Bug-eyes stares at me for a second before waving his hand over his screens. A second later, I get a notification informing me that my visa for Irvina has been approved. As I walk out of the customs lounge, I find myself bubbling with excitement.
Soon, very soon, I’ll get to see my first real alien city.
Chapter 4
We travel down to Irvina via a beanstalk lift large enough to fit a couple of tour buses in it lengthwise. As we drop down through the bountiful clouds that cover the city, I’m grateful that the planet itself is close to Earth standard. About seven percent heavier, from what I recall, with a single sun like Earth and a sky that shades everything to a darker blue. Perhaps the biggest change is the massive moon that dominates the night and sometimes daytime sky. It’s a bit of a shock, but Prax is a dry planet, with a series of smaller landlocked seas rather than our ocean-ridden planet.
Once we break through the clouds, the megacity of Irvina spreads out beneath us. The end of the beanstalk comes down near the center of the city, and the city stretches for untold kilometers on all sides. The city itself is strange, with lots of greenery and small squat buildings in the center before being bordered by giant skyscrapers that remind me of downtown Vancouver or New York. Those skyscrapers are so tall that they throw the streets into deep shadow. Walkways connect the silver-tinted buildings while gravtrains carry passengers around. In some ways, the city reminds me of a ball sitting in the middle of a spread silk scarf, a bowl of buildings ringing a single central hall and the stem of the beanstalk. Small moving dots that traverse the open air slowly resolve into flying cars and animals, moving with ordered precision along clearly marked air routes.
It’s one part Fifth Element, one part Shadowrun, and one part medieval fantasy world. All that’s missing is a steampunk blimp and we’d have a real hotpot of fantasy elements. In fact, as we get closer, I realize that there are even flying figures interspersed among the flying vehicles and creatures. The flying individuals are as varied in their modes of transportation as everything else, some sporting wings, others glowing with telekinetic power or a Skill, and of course, the usual array of weird tech.
“Do you think Earth will be like that one day?” Mikito says, gazing at the bustling metropolis with wide eyes.
“Nah. A bunch of harpies or drakes would eat them all,” I say, pointing around. “Most Dungeon World cities try to keep flight to a minimum. Too many flying things with major territorial issues.”
Mikito makes a face but ends up nodding. Harry’s head swivels slowly while he holds up a hand as if he’s recording with that hand too. He’s not the only reporter doing so. The entire group is busy recording images for their next segment. Some are using Skills, others bobbing tech cameras, and a few even hold up crystals. Next to me, Katherine is muttering to Peter, pointing out various landmarks. I overhear a little.
“That’s the diplomatic district ringing the main hall, borders the river on that side, and if you follow the river down, it sweeps up to meet the main road. I’ll highlight it for you,” Peter says to Katherine.
I listen in a little more as they discuss buildings and places, but I get bored fast. It doesn’t help that I can’t see what they’re seeing in their notifications. Or the fact that I’ve never felt a desire to buy real estate. By the time I had enough, the Vancouver real estate market was well beyond my reach. And then, well, I moved up to Whitehorse and things went to hell. I guess I am a landowner now, but that’s just because safe zones are important.
“Where’s the library?”
“Highlighting now. You sure you want to go do something so damn boring?” Ali complains even as he lights up the library.
It’s a huge building, even in comparison to the skyscrapers. It’s a blocky rectangle without windows but a lot of designs along the edges, giving it a bit of a gothic look. Of course, the gargoyles littering the building are strange and scary, parodies of monsters and nightmares. And, on closer inspection, a few of those gargoyles seem to be lighting up in my Status window.
“I came all the way here to get some answers, no?” I smile grimly.
All that time on a Forbidden Zone planet has taught me a few things about the System Quest. For one thing, Mana is integral to the entire thing—it’s the source, the fuel for the System. But it isn’t the System, which is another thing itself. A set of rules, a set of regulations, an overarching Big Brother that manipulates and evolves us at its whim. The System is a mystery, even when it is everything for those of us in the System.
“You and a billion other Questors,” Ali grumbles, arms crossed. “If you end up spending more than a decade in that library, I’m killing the Contract no matter what kind of penalties I have to endure. Got it, boy-o?”
“Loud and clear.” I hide my smile, remembering how vehement Ali was against the entire thing on the second day. I guess we’ve all changed.
The rest of the trip down was quiet enough. Katherine arranged accommodations for all of us, and rather than attempt to find a place myself, I’ve gone ahead with it. At least in the short term, this plush hotel is more than adequate. It does say something about Galactic society that among the amenities offered is a fighting arena and personal combat trainers.
I look around the suite we’ve been given. It’s a little extravagant—a separate living room, a set of three bedrooms, and even a mini-kitchen.
“Who’d you bribe to bunk with us?” I ask Harry as he comes out of his own room.
Mikito’s taking her time in her own room, depositing a host of personal items. I don’t bother since my Altered Space is more than large enough. Not as if I’m carrying monster parts right now.
“Katherine. I pointed out that if I’m following you around, I won’t be following her,” Harry says unashamedly. “So. What’s our plan?”
“I’m going to look around the city.” I glance at Mikito who walks out of her room, running a hand through her short hair. “You’re welcome to join.”
“Of course. Always good to know the layout,” Mikito says.
“That’s settled then. Ali, I’ll want you to be perusing the System for places to rent,” I say, rubbing my chin. “If we’re here for a bit, I don’t want to stay here longer than necessary.”
“Sure. I’ll go look for a derelict house.”
“Funny,” I say before pausing. “Exactly how much are we looking at anyway?”
“Buy or rent?”
After a moment’s hesitation, I say, “Buy.” Might as well get a feel for the place.
“Two-bedroom place in a respectable neighborhood—say in the third ring—we’re looking at just over eighteen million Credits,” Ali says.
“What?” My voice goes up a couple of notches. “I could buy a damn settlement on Earth for that!”
“It’s Irvina. Largest populated Galactic city, longest-running capital. Most of the land here’s owned by corporations, guilds, and the elder families,” Ali says, shaking his head. “If it wasn’t for the fact that the Council set a limit on how much property each corporation can own based off its size and revenue, there’d be nothing for anyone.”
I guess that makes sense. Even in our world, the problem of corporations growing larger and larger, becoming too big to fail, is a regular occurrence. “Why would the corporations and guilds let them do that?”
“Do what?” Ali says then answers his own question. “You mean put the regulations in place?” When I nod, he snorts. “As if anyone’s telling the Inner Council what not to do.” As we stare at Ali, he sighs. “The Inner Council’s made up of nine council members, at least five of whom are Legendary Classes. The others are representatives of the major empires and factions. They’re the real rulers, but luckily, they try to do as little work as possible.
“As for the main Galactic Council, they’re the ones who make the big decisions like the System expansion and Dungeon Worlds. They also try to set up new laws, deal with inter Empire and Faction disputes, and organize expeditions. Also, whine. Really, they mostly whine a lot.”
I guess it does make sense that even if you have corporations and guilds with members in the millions, a single Legendary Class can make a huge difference. It’s not just the fact that they’re individually incredibly powerful. It’s also the numerous allies and debts owed to them. Add on the fact that it’s really, really hard to lock down even Master Classes in a fight, and you can understand why Legendary Classes are so powerful, they can take out entire planets by themselves. Add Heroic or higher level fleeing Skills, and well, how are you going to deal with them? From what I understand, few Legendary Classes fall to anything but the Forbidden Zone or another Legendary. Even if the guild or corporation has a Legendary of their own, it’s not as if that’s going to stop the destruction.
“All right. So buying is out,” I say, diverting the topic. Not as if I’ve got that many Credits on me. Even if I sold everything I own, including my investments, I’d probably fall short.
“Pretty much. You’ll want to consider renting on the third or fourth ring,” Ali says.
He waves, and a map of the city blooms before all of us. A quick adjustment and the “rings” that radiate from the Galactic Hall are highlighted. The first ring is the smallest by far, consisting of an area barely larger than downtown Vancouver—a couple of kilometers across at best. Each subsequent ring grows wider, with drops in security, cost, and amenities. These rings are mostly created from differences in architecture and System-enabled features, making them difficult to pick out by naked eye.
“And these are the dungeons?” Mikito says, tapping a gate symbol.
A moment later, the map highlights all the gate symbols—one gigantic, three large, and another nine smaller gates appear across the map. The gates themselves start at the third ring, which hosts the gigantic gate symbol and radiate outward, with the smallest gate symbols on the eighth—and last—ring.
“Yup. It’s why I’d recommend the third or fourth ring,” Ali says. “Adventurers and their guilds all congregate around the Prime Dungeon. Not surprisingly, a lot of accommodation there caters to you guys too. There are even rest houses with their own internal butchering yards and repair stations.”
“Got it.” I shrug. “Well, I guess we should start at the smallest ring and go out for our trip today.”
There’s a long silence, punctuated by Harry turning to Mikito and saying, “Is he serious?”
“Yes. John’s not very good at reading the rules.” Mikito’s lips twitch slightly.
“What?” I say, irritated.
“The first ring is restricted so that even citizens of Irvina are not allowed in. The second ring is restricted to those with high Reputation and diplomatic statuses,” Ali says. “The third ring is limited to Adventurers and their ilk of sufficient standing. Since you came in on a secondary diplomatic visa, that’s where you can start. If not for your current standing, you wouldn’t even be allowed in this hotel.”
“Oh.” I pause then decide to ask the question anyway. “And I’m assuming all that was in the document they sent us?”
“Yes,” Harry says, disappointment tingeing his voice.
“What’s with that tone?” I growl.
“Just sad when you learn your heroes have lead feet too,” Harry says.
“Hero…” I sit there, stunned, while Harry stands.
His actions pull the entire group to the door. Shaking my head, I move to catch up with them, calling after them even as they ignore me.
“Hey! What do you mean by that?”
I never do get my answer, but it doesn’t matter. Once we leave our hotel, the only public transportation we can access sends us directly from the second ring into the third. Only then does it click how annoying staying at that hotel will be for some of us. Of course, the vast majority of the people on Katherine’s visa don’t care. Whether it’s setting up new business networks or talking to other diplomatic groups, they’re going to be working closely with the lady. It’s only a major issue to those of us who borrowed the visas for our own selfish ends.
High-rise buildings or not, the second ring at least has some greenery. By the time we hit the third ring, the buildings crowd around one another, leaving little space for anything but air. Only a few major roads run through the city itself, and many of those roads are covered by walkways or buildings that run over them.
“What’s the ground like?” I ask Ali. While I can get occasional glimpses, it’s too dark to make out anything.
“Varies a lot. From the dungeons to the main guilds, auction hall, and merchants’ quarter, it’s clear of everything but traffic. No one wants to drag a manticore body through a street crowded with beggars and impromptu food stalls. Outside of those areas, the streets get clogged up with enterprising merchants and your usual vagrants,” says Ali. “There’re a few parts, mostly in the fifth ring onward, which have been taken over by nocturnal and other dark-loving sentients. Bottom couple of floors are filled with low-rent shops normally, then you get more expensive—but still affordable—accommodation with the cheapest residence areas in the twentieth or so floors and above before you hit the connected floors.
“Anything low means you can and will use the public transportation on the ground. Or just, you know, run. Accommodation in the middle has the worst of both worlds—not connected to the gravtrain tubes but not in easy reach of the ground either. Even with hypertubes to move people around, you’re still stuck waiting a lot. Add in vampires, driders, and other dark-loving sentients and well, you have a portion that’s set-up in near permanent darkness.”
“Right. So leave the ground alone unless necessary,” I say.
The group falls silent as the little bubble car we’re in floats along the grav tracks, swinging along the sides of buildings, swooping up and down and missing other cars and busses by inches at times. The first few times it happens, I brace for impact, but soon enough I stop worrying about the matter and just enjoy the ride. I took a look at the schematic details of the grav tracks and the bullet trains and individualized bubble cars when we arrived, and I have to admit, I’m completely lost. I can tell there’s a lot of gravity and electromagnetic forces in play, but the how and why eludes me. There’s a high chance a chunk of that is because much of this was built by Skills.
“Small windows,” Mikito says, pointing at a series of tiny windows no taller than a pair of fingers put together. The sheer number along the side of the building is quite amazing.
“Ah, enclave of smalls. Not everyone wants to live in small town. And because of the way architecture works, these are cheaper,” Ali says. When I raise an eyebrow, the Spirit sighs. “Right. Most Galactic cities have a few parts that are meant for non-standard humanoid races. How many and what size varies, but you’ve got small town, big town, semis, quadpedals, and noxes.
“Small town is where the tiny sentients live. You know the kind—sentient mice, sprites, and fairies, that kind of thing. Bigs are the giants and their kind, of course. Semis are the semi-corporeals who range from sentient elementals to ghosts and some types of spirits. Quad-pedals include any of those with non-standard bipedal figures, while noxes are non-oxygen breathers.”
“How come we’ve not met many of them?” Harry says.
“Why would you?” Ali says, shaking his head. “Outside of the giants, who took over the Alps, most bigs can’t fit into your standard dungeon configuration. Smalls can, but they struggle against standard monsters until they hit Advanced Classes. They’ve also got their own culture, including planets and the like. Semi-corporeals did turn up, but they’re hanging out in places you guys don’t care for. The middle of volcanoes, the deep ocean, the Mojave Desert, so on and so forth. As for noxes, well, you saw some. Hell, the captain who brought us in was one. But most prefer to stick to their own Dungeon Worlds or home worlds. Not a lot of fun choking to death because your respirator died.”
Well, that makes some sense. Environmental factors might be of less concern once you head up in Levels, but that doesn’t mean that we’re comfortable in weird environments. It’s like the various dungeons I’ve heard of that sit in the middle of some space lanes. They’re just a lot less appealing to a ground-pounder like me. Still, if I ever get bored, running a dungeon while suited in a full-on spaceship mecha sounds kind of cool.
The next few hours has us watching the scenery pass us by. Soon enough, everyone grows a little too bored. You only view so many similar alien buildings before you’re done, even if Ali does his best to point out the major landmarks and pepper his discussion with informative little tidbits. Rather than continue on the same old same old, Ali guides us to the merchant district. At that point, we split off, since everyone has their own little shop to visit. Harry hits the Shop sphere while Mikito decides to do some window shopping in the physical shops. As for myself…
“There’s a branch office?” I say, my eyebrow rising.
“Of course. It’s Irvina. Where else would they have a physical shop if not here?” Ali says, waving me on. “It’s been ages since I’ve visited it. But prices will be a little lower.”
“Fine. I’m coming.” I take off after him, the pair of us strolling through the cavernous innards of the building.
Pedestrian walkways, crawl ways, and roadways run alongside one another. Everyone’s mostly following the laid-out routes, the occasional oblivious or arrogant rulebreaker receiving a violent reminder of why the rules are in place. It’s kind of amusing how people just move around the burgeoning fights and occasional accidents with barely a glance.
Violence is, at worst, a fineable offense. After all, when everyone heals from broken bones and cuts within ten minutes, there’s little concern about such acts. It does lead to certain circumstances of bullying, but it seems a Galactic norm to ignore all but the most egregious events. It’s why guilds, associations, sects, and corporations are so popular—always good to have someone looking out for you.
By the time I make my way to the shop, I’ve had to break one set of legs and throw up my Aura to scare off the idiots. The shop itself is a simple affair—yellow trimmings on the outside with large double doors that are keyed to one’s Status. I step forward and the doors slide open, allowing me in.
Once inside, I find myself in a beautiful yellow room with a simple counter to greet guests, a waiting and lounging area for those wanting to take their time perusing their wares, and a couple of doors. The layout is a copy of their main offices, so I know from previous experience that those doors lead to private rooms where a customer can browse the wares themselves.
The moment I enter, a svelte young thing comes up to me, all willowy form and transparent dress. That what she exhibits beneath the dress involve dozens of small mouths with hundreds of tiny teeth kind of mutes any allure the angular-faced, slit-eyed attendant might have.
“Redeemer Lee. It is a pleasure to meet you.” The attendant bows, one hand over her right chest. “I am K’Senia Maroo. What may I do for you, Redeemer?”
“Got a bunch of things to sell,” I say.
K’Senia nods and waves toward a private room. I follow the lady, idly eyeing the area. I kind of miss having actual physical products to browse, but considering the size of the room we’re in, I’m assuming they just deliver it from whatever warehouse they use. Once inside, a gesture is all I need to dump my gathered items onto the floor. Loot from pirate corpses and their used gear makes up the majority of my merchandise this time around.
“Ah, I see you’ve had a busy trip,” K’Senia says. “Do you intend to continue traveling without insurance?”
“Not really.”
“A pity. I won’t inform our proxies to be ready for more such material then,” K’Senia says, deftly moving the loot around to sort and price everything.
“There’re people who do that regularly?” I say.
“Of course. It’s quite a popular pastime among certain Master Classes. And nearly all Heroics. Of course, most pirates leave Heroic Classes alone. Even a Heroic-level Artisan is a danger, especially when one considers most have significant influence in the galaxy,” K’Senia says. “The optimal time for such activity is around Level 20 to 40 for combat Master Classes.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
K’Senia finishes up with her work and sweeps everything into her storage before asking to be excused while she deposits everything away properly. I nod and turn back to my notification screens, restocking my usual assortment of grenades and disposable weaponry. It’s frustrating how expensive everything keeps getting as I go up in Levels.
I hold up one of the many things I have to repurchase and glare at the rather expensive toy.
High Explosive Grenade (Tier II)
Hand-crafted from mithril and oxmallium alloys, the HEG II is a mainstay of Advanced and Master Class Adventurers, able to clear large numbers of low Level creatures.
Base Damage: 287
Area of effect: 5 meters radius
Cost: 1250 Credits
I have to buy a dozen of these just to be safe, not to mention buying incendiary grenades, flash grenades, Chaos grenades, and even portable shield generators. Sure, the effect is amazing and everything has to be handmade at these levels to do the kind of damage we’re looking for, but it’s still a ton of funds. And still not as good as a single strike from my sword. But it’s an area effect attack that throws up a ton of fire and smoke, which is useful.
It’s one of the major differences between the real Erethran Honor Guard and me. I’m a lone fighter, without the resources and funds that back the entire army. They can afford to purchase handcrafted mecha and repair them when they’re inevitably damaged. If I tried the same, I’d be even poorer than I am right now. As much as I’d love to equip myself with the latest tech, it’s not viable.
“Redeemer Lee, it seems we have an item awaiting your pickup,” K’Senia says when she comes back. “Would you like to take ownership of it now?”
“Of course.”
A moment later, K’Senia has twitched her hands and handed the knives to me. I blink at my old friends now firmly etched with runes and reinforced with stronger metals. Rough edges have been worked out, along with numerous minor adjustments. I pull out one, staring at the item’s new status with awe.
Enchanted, Reinforced Toothy Throwing Knives (5)
First handcrafted from the rare drop of a Level 140 Awakened Beast by the Redeemer of the Dead, John Lee, these knives have been further processed by the Master Craftsmen I-24-988L and reinforced with orichalcum and fey-steel. The final blades have been further enchanted with Mana and a piercing Skill, as well as a return enchantment.
Base Damage: 238
Enchantments: Return, Mana Blade (+28 Damage), Pierce (-7% defense)
“Very nice,” I say.
As I look around, K’Senia cannot help but smile a little and point down the room to the farthest corner. “Feel free to test out your knives. These rooms are rated to withstand even Tier I attacks.”
I nod in thanks, pulling the knives from their sheaths and reviewing each weapon. There are minor differences in the base damage—probably due to various defects in the way I first crafted the knives. More importantly, the enchantments make these weapons deadlier than ever. These do nearly double the damage of my soulblade when I first received it. I could easily one-shot any low-level monster with these.
Once I’ve verified everything, I look at the simple baldric that’s been enchanted as well, providing the return enchantment a focus. With a shrug, I toss the knives underhand at the far wall.
There’s nothing special when I do—no explosions, flashing lights, or swell of music. The knives fly out of my hand with a smoothness that seems all too familiar, grouping themselves within millimeters of one another and sinking in nearly all the way to the hilt. K’Senia raises an eyebrow, appearing somewhat impressed.
Me? I’m more impressed when the knives flicker and suddenly reappear, one after the other, in the enchanted baldric. I test the weapons again, tossing them one after the other and counting off till they return. Just under three seconds.
“Hey, Ali, these won’t randomly return if I throw them really far away, will they?”
“Maybe? Depends on how far. The runes have two triggers—time after impact and time after reaching throwing speeds. You can also forcefully return them by touching that rune.” Ali highlights a rune on the baldric for me. “Push your Mana into it and boom. Knives back in sheaths.”
“Thanks.” I make mental note about that and the potential problems the enchantment might have.
These are a nice addition to my attacks, one that doesn’t require me to use my sword. The biggest advantage of these weapons is that they give me a ranged option that isn’t Mana intensive or as flashy as my Blade Strike.
I slip on the baldric before turning to K’Senia and pointing at the skill I was browsing while she was gone—Galactic Body Language. “So…”
“I see you’ve begun to face issues,” K’Senia says. “I’m surprised this was not recommended to you earlier.”
“Yeah, about that. I don’t get why I was able to read most of the Galactics on Earth perfectly well, but now I’m getting conflicting feelings. It’s rather frustrating when you Galactics go from happy to sad to outraged. At least, from your body language.”
“Skill translation,” K’Senia says. “You understand that the skills you purchase, language and otherwise, often are derived from individuals? Or in the System’s case, a large number of said individuals?”
“I got that.”
“Then you should be cognizant that such information comes with behavioral and body language knowledge as well. To make proper use of the correct body language, the System has to overwrite specific portions of one’s body,” K’Senia says. “In so doing, the original host’s tics are overlaid.”
“Wait. You’re saying that because they learnt English from the System, they also got the body language from the individual the skill was taken from originally?” At her nod, I slowly rub my chin. “So when they spoke English, they were showcasing mostly human body language. Which is why I had no issue reading them.” Except for one particular Truinnar. But I was never sure if that was because of his skills or because the man always set me on edge. In a good way. Mostly.
“Exactly. But most of us learn to speak Galactic while growing up. As such, there is no ‘natural’ body language to acquire, and so the Galactics you’ve met are all exhibiting their ‘natural’ body language,” K’Senia says. “Most of us learn to read the major races quickly enough. Merchants like me then purchase ranks in the skill you are looking at. And in some cases, diplomats and others have Skills to ensure their meaning comes across, no matter which race it is.
“You, on the other hand, are relying on your human understanding of body language and movements. While some of that will, slowly, disappear, in the short term, you will be faced with significant misunderstandings.”
I exhale, shaking my head, and swipe the skill over to my buy pile. Thinking about it, I chat with K’Senia about what else I should get. Soon enough, we’ve added a bunch of “generic” knowledge to the pile that I hadn’t bothered purchasing or which Foxy, my normal attendant, had not recommended. Eyeing the large list and recalling the way the System likes to dump information directly into our bodies, I confirm the purchases for now. I’ve got dozens of other skills I want to purchase but taking this in batches is probably for the best. Even then, I’m sure not all of it will “settle” immediately.
Information floods into my mind and my eyes widen, flicking from side to side as my brain rushes to capture the information. My boosted Intelligence gets to work grabbing and sorting the flood of information, settling my mind down even as my body processes a series of micro-impulses.
Once that’s done, I highlight a few new low-level spells. Mostly I add on to my control spells, layering some ice, metal, and air to the mud and fire walls I already have. I briefly consider adding a healing spell but discard it, happy enough with the one I have. Truth be told, my Mana is limited. Once again, I confirm the information and feel the rush as spell knowledge floods my mind.
It’s painful to see more of my precious Credits flowing out, especially since my savings is limited. Unless I run more dungeons, what I have is what I have. Deciding against spending any more for now, I take a quick look at my Status Screen before heading back to the hotel.
Status Screen
Name
John Lee
Class
Erethran Paladin
Race
Human (Male)
Level
24
Titles
Monster’s Bane, Redeemer of the Dead, Duelist, Explorer
Health
3520
Stamina
3520
Mana
3330
Mana Regeneration
273 (+5) / minute
Attributes
Strength
238
Agility
318
Constitution
352
Perception
178
Intelligence
333
Willpower
358
Charisma
116
Luck
72
Class Skills
Mana Imbue
3*
Blade Strike*
3
Thousand Steps
1
Altered Space
2
Two are One
1
The Body’s Resolve
3
Greater Detection
1
A Thousand Blades*
3
Soul Shield
2
Blink Step
2
Portal*
5
Army of One
2
Sanctum
2
Instantaneous Inventory*
1
Cleave*
2
Frenzy*
1
Elemental Strike*
1 (Ice)
Shrunken Footsteps*
1
Tech Link*
2
Penetration
3
Aura of Chivalry
1
Eyes of Insight
1
Analyze*
2
Harden*
2
Quantum Lock*
3
Elastic Skin*
3
Beacon of the Angels
1
Eye of the Storm
1
Vanguard of the Apocalypse
2
Society’s Web
1
Combat Spells
Improved Minor Healing (IV)
Greater Regeneration (II)
Greater Healing (II)
Mana Drip (II)
Improved Mana Missile (IV)
Enhanced Lightning Strike (III)
Elemental Storm (Fire, Ice, Lightning)
Polar Zone
Freezing Blade
Improved Inferno Strike (II)
Elemental Walls (Fire, Ice, Earth, etc.)
Ice Blast
Icestorm
Improved Invisibility
Improved Mana Cage
Improved Flight
Haste
When we get back that night, we have a very short discussion about plans for the next day before we crash, our first day in an alien world somewhat underwhelming. No gun fights, no major altercations. Just a lot of sight-seeing and a little shopping.
Chapter 5
“Are you a member, an applicant, or a browser?” the weedy old man with a tuft of hair sticking out of his gigantic ears asks me.
I stare at the weird gnome-like fellow, eyeing his suspenders for a moment before I answer. “Applicant please.”
The Questors’ hall is in the fifth ring, which was a bit strange to me at first glance. Only when Ali pointed out that not only do the Questors require a significant amount of space to store all their collected knowledge but also have little to steal did it make sense. Then add the fact that everyone knows Questors don’t have much in the way of Credits and have the backing of some truly powerful folk. It’s kind of like libraries on pre-System Earth. Sure, you could steal the books, and some people did, but was it worth it? Mostly, not so much. Add that together and the building, as a whole, was left alone by local troublemakers. The halls’ visitors aren’t so fortunate, but localized teleportation nodes and a direct transportation stop for the gravline keeps most of the crime down.
Not that assaulting and stealing is considered more than a minor, fineable offense. Damnable Galactic law.
“Very well.” When the silence grows between us, the attendant finally rolls his eyes. “Show me your System Quest notification. How else am I to verify your suitability?”
“Oh! Sorry,” I say, flushing slightly. Of course that would be the easiest way to get this done. Still, I’m a little irritated. It’s not as if he gave any indication.
While my embarrassment turns to anger, Ali makes my quest notification appear before my eyes before sharing the information with the attendant.
System Quest (On-Going)
Learn what the System is about, its applications, methods, and origins. Knowledge of the System will give you strength. True knowledge of the System will provide something even greater than strength.
Reward: Variable and progressive
Status: 23%
“What the hell. That isn’t what it was before!”
“Well, you want in, right? I figured changing the Quest wording back to its original would be better,” Ali sends to me.
I mentally sigh. The Spirit used to change all my notifications and withhold knowledge “for my good,” but we had that talk ages ago. But in this case, I just never bothered to open the Quest screen again. There wasn’t a point. The updates on progress were sufficient for me. And while I might never tell Ali this, I kind of like his original wording better.
“Twenty-three percent. Quite respectable for a Questor who has only been on the path for less than a decade,” the gnome says, becoming friendlier. “It’s always a pleasure to meet a fellow Questor. You may call me Ric.”
“John Lee, Ric.” I offer him my hand. Ric stares at my hand before clasping it on the outer edge and turning my arm upward. I blink, but Ric seems to consider his actions perfectly normal. “I was wondering, what is the normal percentage?”
“For a Questor or the general public?”
“Both.”
“For most, their completion rates sit between five and fifteen percent, depending on age and circumstance. To be considered a Questor and receive acknowledgement among our ranks though, a minimum completion rate of twenty percent is required,” Ric says. “That number is impossible to achieve without dedicated research.”
“Thank you. So as a member, is there…?”
“Oh, how forgetful. One second.” Ric waves his hand over me then toward his notification screen.
A moment later, I get a new notification.
Congratulations! You have gained membership with the elite order of System Questors.
Reputation +2 Galactic Reputation
Fame + 2000
Title Gained: Apprentice Questor
Renowned through the Galactic System, Questors search for the ultimate truth endlessly and fruitlessly. Perhaps, one day, they will learn the meaning of life. In the meantime, they continue their never-ending quest.
Effect: Gain +10% more experience from System Quest completion rates
“That’s useful,” I say, glancing at the Reputation increase. Getting Galactic reputation up is hard, since it mostly derives from Galactic-level Contracts or makes its way up from a bunch of local reputation points. Even if the Questors might be laughed at behind their backs, they’re still a Galactic organization. “And the benefits?”
“Access to all Questor chapter houses. Access to our library of knowledge.”
“Full access?”
“Of course,” Ric says with a sniff. “What is the use of information that is locked away? Our goal is the betterment and progress of the Quest.”
“Sorry.” I pause before asking the question that has puzzled me. “What’s the highest completion rate right now?”
“That would be Grandmaster K,” Ric says. “He’s at eighty-seven percent.”
My jaw drops while even Ali whistles.
The Spirit asks the next, obvious, question. “So how come he hasn’t written the encyclopedia of what he knows? If he did that, everyone would be at the same level.”
“He did. And the results varied greatly,” Ric says, shaking his head with a frustrated expression. “It seems that the only way to build your completion rate and come closer to the truth of the System is to understand and learn matters slowly. Even if the information is all provided, without a good grounding, it seems impossible for one to achieve the same heights.”
“Oh, like learning math,” I say. It’d be like showing someone Einstein’s theory of relativity, e = mc2. Sure, it looks simple and everyone understands what it says, but they don’t necessarily understand what it means or the proof behind it. Not unless they’d built the necessary knowledge beforehand. Though come to think of it, wasn’t the entire thing physics more than math? But you proved it via math. And engineering.
“Yes, exactly! Once one has proven or understood the basic hypotheses and theories, then you can climb higher. It is hoped that more of the younger generation will join us in the search,” Ric says. “Sadly, our work is dangerous, and too many promising youngsters fall too early.”
“Dangerous?” I say, cocking my head. Thus far, I would call what I’ve done to get my twenty percent the opposite of dangerous.
“Extremely so. Just last week we lost Ium, a promising scholar, while he was attempting to disprove Waslter Kababa’s theory of Mana flow and health regeneration. It seemed one of the monsters achieved a higher, unexpected rate of regeneration and bit off Ium’s leg, hampering his escape from the dungeon.”
“That’s a whole new kind of field work,” I say neutrally.
“Well, it matters not. At your stage, you should stick to the recommended leading list for now.” Ric points behind him. “Go ahead then, young scholar. Do us proud!”
“And bore me to death,” Ali complains as we leave.
Ric ignores Ali, an act for which I’m grateful enough.
The library itself is a bit, well, underwhelming. Don’t get me wrong, there are miles upon miles of books stretching in all directions. The building has an open-air central column that allows those with flight abilities to travel with ease. Yet the total number of Questors within is small. I catch a glimpse of three people, and my minimap doesn’t show many more. In the end, I walk ahead and touch the simple steel stand with my hand, allowing it to access my interface. A navigation menu blooms then flickers as Ali communicates with the system for me.
Completed reading list received
Quest updates received
Recommended reading list created. Map of book locations created.
A small map of the library flashes before my eyes, books highlighted. A large number are placed close to one another in front of me, but a number are scattered through the map in somewhat random locations. It only takes a few seconds to work out why. The cluster of books are the recommended reading materials, most of which I’ve already purchased. The rest are the books that detail random things I’ve either learned or considered and tested. Those are the areas where I’ve progressed above the “standard” level of a Questor.
“What’s with the physical books anyway?” I ask.
“Copyright laws,” Ali says. “The Questors have the rights to the works that stay in the library, but if someone wants to purchase them otherwise, they’d need to go through the Shop. Keeps the Credits flowing.”
“And piracy?” I ask. Not that I intend to do so, what with standing in the middle of a giant library, but I’m curious.
Piracy of books and media was a major thing back on Earth before the System, what with the ease of access. Of course, everyone had their own excuses as to why it was acceptable, why they “had” to do it—inconvenience, difficulty in access, lack of funds, how it was a “victimless” crime. Hell, I’d done it too. But truth was, any excuse was just a lie to excuse our poor morality. Piracy was easy, because we didn’t think we’d get caught and we didn’t know who we were stealing from.
“Possible. It happens for sure. But few people do it in large quantities,” Ali says. “A lot of these writers and publishers pay into the Copyright Bounty System. The CBS scans the System for broken copyrights and then adds the number and quantity to their bulletin, with the appropriate bounty. Bounty hunters stay connected to the Galactic bounty network, and well, it’s often nice and easy money if they run into someone with a high enough bounty.
“There’re even a few bounty hunters who spend all their free time running down people like that. They call the work relaxing. Seems like your average copyright pirate is a nice change from their normal marks. After all, the serfdom or Credit fine isn’t worth the penalty of killing a bounty hunter.”
“Huh,” I say, rubbing my nose. The System would make something like that a lot easier. “What happens when they get caught?”
“Credit liens, fines, serfdom, the usual,” Ali says. “All tracked through the System.”
“Gotcha.” Makes sense. I make further note not to break the law. Though… “What about all that human TV you watch? Isn’t that copyrighted?”
“Pre-System,” Ali says with a sniff. “Doesn’t count.”
I sigh, shaking my head. Of course it doesn’t count. It’s not as if the System is meant to be fair. I push that thought aside, deciding it’s not my problem. Not right now. My problem is figuring out what to read first. After a time, I make my decision and head away from the cluster.
“You know, jumping ahead isn’t always a good idea,” Ali says as he floats alongside me.
“Whatever. I want to see how their recommendation engine works. And how good it is.”
The walk through the stacks is serene, the atmosphere only slightly oppressive—like all libraries. At least there’s no grey-haired harridan in a moldy wool sweater staring at me over thick lenses and scolding me when I make more noise than a mouse.
Hours later, I’m seated in one of the Questors’ comfortable chairs, legs up and yawning slightly. Next to me are the books I’ve taken out and skimmed through for their details, providing me an understanding of the way the referencing software works.
Basically, most of the works recommended to me that aren’t part of the basic reading list are what can be considered the next best thing to read after I’ve achieved a certain upgrade in my Quest. The tricky thing is, much of my success with the more advanced areas of the System Quest has been via fortuitous encounters. Like watching a dragon sleep, drawing in Mana. Or being dumped into a Forbidden Zone.
As such, my understanding of the reasoning behind the System and the way the System works is not necessarily detailed, just experiential. Which means that sometimes, the recommended books are too complex. In some cases, it’s because the books are written by those who have come to the same understanding via experiments. In other cases, the books are written as a description of another individual’s experience. In such cases, those experiential books are supposed to trigger quest updates for the next portion, rather than explain the point of those updates.
“This… is going to be complicated,” I say, staring at the pile of work.
I can’t exactly rely on the recommendations. And yet there’s no point in sticking to the normal reading list either. I want—I need more of an understanding of the deeper intricacies of the System. If following the normal reading list was effective, then there would be more Questors with higher completion rates. Finding a balance between the two seems to be my big struggle for the next few weeks.
“You know, laughing by yourself like that makes you look rather insane,” Ali points out as I break out chuckling to myself. “I mean, research makes me crack, but you’ve only been at it for, like, five hours.”
“Nah, it’s not the work.” I chuckle again. “It’s the idea that figuring out my best research method is going to be the big struggle of my life for the next little while. It’s… nice.”
“Boring!”
His opinion makes me chuckle further as I pull a chocolate from my inventory and get back to reading. Boring it is. I could do with boring.
“As can be seen from control group three, it is clear that Elemental Affinities are the most ‘base’ form of powers. The individuals who have Elemental Affinities have been gifted powers to wield forces directly, without the intervention of the System itself. As experiments in both the Forbidden Zone and outside System-activated locations have shown, there is no loss of Elemental Affinity abilities in both locations.
This result would further explain the Technocrats’ obsession with such individuals and known criminal kidnapping, experimentation, and enslavement. Their actions in the Second Elemental War have resulted in the reduction of individuals with this power in the general sphere and the introduction of Spirits, Elementals, and other contracted eternal powers. (See Rum & Kol’s Treatise on the Second Elemental War for further discussion).”
I pause for a second, putting a finger on the book, and look up. I stare at the floating Spirit. Ali never speaks about his past. About why he has a Contract with the System directly, or what that means. Of who, or what, he actually is. I know what he looks like, what he says, is drawn in many ways from my mind. Formed, as he said, when our Contract was formed. But it says nothing about what the man is. There are depths to the tiny Spirit that have yet to be explored.
When Ali looks up, a frown on his goateed face, I flash him a tight frown before turning back to my book. For now, all I need to know is that he’s a friend.
“For our purposes, it is sufficient to understand that Elemental Affinities are the base. Spells are pre-System attempts at achieving the same affinities by those without the gift. Spells must use Mana as their catalyst in an attempt to replicate the actual functions an individual with Elemental Affinity is able to achieve by will alone.
However, it is clear that Spells are cumbersome and often, in the older variants, inefficient methods of replicating such effects. As an example, the original Flame Bolt spell requires triple the Mana cost of a Flame Bolt Skill and takes approximately two and a half times longer to cast. And, as we know, the Flame Bolt spell only requires a small number of calculations and formulae answers.
This leads us to the third variation on Elemental Affinities—Skills. Class Skills are, without doubt, System-generated aspects. There have been no records of Class Skills existing outside of the System. Furthermore, all Class Skills are not active in non-System-activated space, unlike manually studied spells. Even System-learned spells are useable outside of System space, though at increased cost (see W-12-A for 18888 Experiments in Mana use outside of System Space).
Skills are thus concluded to be the System’s method of replicating Elemental Affinities. It is further believed by this research that…”
I exhale, shutting my eyes as my mind is barraged by a sudden deluge of Quest updates. I twitch, shutting them down as fast as they arrive, though a part of me wonders about the sudden increase. Interesting as Elemental Affinities are, and it is interesting, I’m not entirely sure why it’s suddenly so important to the System.
But there’s only one way to tell. I pick the book up again, focusing.
Days later, I walk into the hotel suite, moving around the armed and armored individuals in the room by instinct. I dodge the casual swipe of a polearm and snag a can of proverbial green juice and a sandwich as I head for my room. My increased Constitution might make sleeping a minor thing for me, but I’ve been up for days on end. Only the sudden thrust of the naginata’s blade stops me, taking my attention away from the book I’ve still got open.
“What?” I say grouchily.
“It’s been a week,” Mikito says. “You haven’t come back or answered your messages in the last few days. You obviously haven’t even changed your clothing. You just left us to handle everything alone.”
“Uh, everyone’s alive, right?” I turn to stare at Mikito and my eyes narrow slightly, running over her combat-armored form, then move to the pair of armed humans in the suite. Their faces and names take a moment before they slot into place. Both are members of Katherine’s security services. “Problem?”
“No,” Joe, the short and bald fellow, says, his dusky skin mostly hidden under his armored jumpsuit. “We’re hitting a dungeon today.”
“Oh good. Have fun.” At Mikito’s growl, I raise an eyebrow.
“You didn’t read Katherine’s message, did you?” Mikito says accusingly.
“Message?”
“Aaargh! No wonder Lana told me…” Mikito mutters the last bit, but I hear it clearly. My eyes narrow, but the little Japanese woman glares right back at me. “Katherine told us we have to find a new place in ten days.”
“Oh. I’ll get right on that.”
“The message was sent a week ago. When we arrived,” Mikito says, stressing the last bit. “She forwarded it to me the next day when she realized you hadn’t opened it.”
“Oh. Ohh…” I blink, realizing we have less than three days left. Four if you include today. “Damn.”
“Exactly.” Mikito sighs. “I’m running a dungeon today. We need to increase the security personnel’s Levels and earn some Credits. Harry’s doing the research you were supposed to follow up on about finding us a place to rent. But all the places he can find require a one-year non-refundable deposit.”
“One year!” I yelped. Recalling how much the rent was from what Ali mentioned, that amount is insane. “How are we going to make that much?”
“Dun. Geon,” Ali intones then floats over to smack me on top of the head. “Like what you were supposed to be doing.”
“Really?” I whine slightly and get another smack from Ali. It obviously doesn’t hurt, which is why I’m allowing it for now, though I glare at the Spirit to warn him against trying again. “Fine. I’ll… umm…”
“Figure out a guild to join today. After you rest,” Mikito says, pointing her naginata at me. “Then do research on which dungeon we should hit and what quests we can get.”
“Right, right.” I bob my head in acknowledgement as the Samurai waves out her entourage.
The guards have great poker faces, barely letting anything escape. Too bad I’ve got my Eye of Insight so I can easily see their amusement and fear. Amusement at me. Fear of Mikito. Once they’re gone, I sigh and scratch my head.
“I might have gotten a little carried away,” I admit to Ali.
The Spirit snorts, and I down the green juice while walking into my room. Maybe I should regulate how much research I do. Even if I do enjoy the research and have a tendency to fall into the “zone” when doing it, getting out and killing things is good.
So. Guild. Quests. Dungeons. Death.
Right. Back to the usual grind then.
Chapter 6
A couple of hours, later after an entirely refreshing nap and even more refreshing shower, I’m wolfing down a large meal with Ali, though he mostly picks at the food and swills the alcohol.
“Are you sure we have to join a guild?” I say.
“Yes,” Ali says. “Irvina regulations. It’s how they control access, especially to the higher Level dungeons.”
“Which are the ones we want to go to.”
“Exactly,” Ali says. “And there’s nothing wrong with joining a guild. They do provide a ton of resources. And as a Master Class, you’d be highly valued.”
“But there are cons too, right?”
“Well, sure. But I’ll filter out the guilds with bad reputations,” Ali says. “You don’t have to worry about that.”
“Not that kind of con. Pros and cons. Negatives.”
“Oh. Right. Yeah, mostly around guild dues and occasional mandatory quests,” Ali says. “And some guilds align themselves with various factions.”
“I’d like to stay neutral.” When the silence drags on, I finish chewing the piece of steak I’m eating and meet Ali’s incredulous gaze. “What?”
“You literally just finished aligning your entire planet with the Edge. And pissed off the Fist and the Traditionalists,” Ali says. “You are the most politically charged contractee I’ve ever had.”
“Yeah, but that was politics,” I say. “Not personal.”
“You don’t actually believe that, do you?”
“No. Not really.” I sigh, my appetite gone. I push my plate aside, eyeing the feast left and pack it up to store in my inventory. While everything that goes in comes back out in roughly the same state, storing, say, a bowl of soup still needs care. Unless you want to accidentally pull it out the wrong way around. “Right. So we need to join a guild and it’s likely one that’ll be politically aligned. Unless there’s another option? I mean, not everyone wants to join guilds, no?”
“There is one.” Ali makes a face as he reluctantly admits the truth. “But it sucks. They take a good twenty-five percent of your take, compared to most others’ ten. And with your status, we could probably get it down to five.”
“Who?”
“The Non-Affiliated Guild of Adventurers—NAGA,” Ali says slowly. “Not to be confused with the actual species. They offer certification, sale of goods to members, and guild quests. Membership with NAGA gives you access to affiliated guilds for use of their accommodations and other guild services, generally at a much higher price. Mostly, NAGA adventurers use that benefit in cities which don’t have a NAGA branch, which is most of them.”
I cock my head to the side. “That’s it?”
“It’s the crap choice of the undecided,” Ali says. “Those who join it are either too scared to get involved with a proper guild, too weak to be accepted by anyone else, or too hesitant to reach for real power. Most of the time NAGA only gives you access to generic quests—the ones that are available for anyone. Material collection quests basically. Anything more specialized goes directly to proper guilds.”
“But joining it means you aren’t aligning yourself with any group, right?”
“Again, too late for that, boy-o.”
I cross my arms, glowering at Ali. The Spirit returns my gaze, waiting for me to resolve myself to the inevitable. I hate the idea of getting even more involved in Galactic politics. I hate the idea that joining up with one group means I’ll be forced to choose sides. The sides all have agendas and ideology that I might or might not agree with.
All I want to do now is research and work out why our world, my friends, my family had to die. All I want is an answer to the question of who put this damn farce of a System in place, why millions struggle to survive and millions more fight and bleed and die every day. Every year. Why billions have fallen and even more slowly fade away.
The System gives us Classes and experience, a guided way to grow. But it limits us too, forces us to use their Shop, their System. It encroaches on our privacy, demands that bodies be fed into the grinder of dungeons. It warps society to bend to its insane healing speed and Mana use, making things like violence an everyday occurrence. It creates tiers between society, offering those who were lucky enough to be born into a good family, a good guild, a leg up on Skills and Classes. Guidance on how to build yourself, on what Skills to purchase, what to focus on.
Never mind the tyrants and autocrats at the Heroic and Legendary Level. Stories abound of those who use and abuse their positions to rule over settlements, planets, or in some cases, empires. When someone hits that Level, it’s hard to knock them down. A Master Class is powerful, but they can still be dealt with. Heroics require large forces to pin down and deal with. Large forces like guilds…
“If I do go with NAGA, what are the negatives? Beyond the obvious lack of help,” I finally say, pushing aside my ambivalent feelings. Better to listen now than keep grumbling over something I can’t change.
“Well, for one thing, you’ll get pestered endlessly by all the guilds asking you to join them. Hiding away in the Questors’ inner sanctum might save you a little, but once you actually go into the dungeons, they won’t stop,” Ali says. “Next, dungeons are similar to Dungeon Worlds. All those people you’ve angered? They can target you in there without risk. Most guilds set up times when their guild members enter the dungeons together, so they can aid each other if necessary—if it’s viable for the dungeon obviously. Where that isn’t possible, it’s still safer to have a group around. Being with NAGA means you get none of that.
“On top of that, you’ll be paying more at various stores and the like. There’s no Reputation bonus with NAGA, so any quests you find and complete won’t be as effective. With some of the bigger guilds, they’re big enough that some of your enemies will back off. At least from open confrontations.”
I nod. Thus far, no one has come to deal with us. Not directly. Though I’m wondering about the attack by the pirates. It’d be easy enough to pass word down to mess with us, and someone like the Fist or the Traditionalists had good reason to want to stop us from arriving at Prax. As for the Thirteen Moon Sects or the Zarrie, they’ll likely come along to deal with us. Our only advantage right now is that with our Levels, they face the same issue as when they first faced us—finding enough people of appropriate strength. And in Irvina at least, they’ll have to do it in a way that won’t come back to bite them in the ass.
Still, the fact that I’m basically locking myself in a room means that I’m making myself a sitting target. Sooner or later, they’ll come.
“You can stop grinning now. It’s creepy.” Ali pops a grape-like object in his mouth and chews. “Then there’s all the stuff that a good guild will give you. Also, you might want to consider the fact that Mikito and the rest of your people are joining up.”
“Mikito’s joined a guild?” I say, then realize how stupid a question that is. Of course she joined one. Otherwise how could she get into the dungeon? “Which one?”
“Eh, there’s an official and hard-to-pronounce name, but most call it Tig’s Guild,” Ali says. “Tig, the Guild Master, is a late-Level Heroic Class.”
“What Class?”
“War Oracle. Very, very high Agility, haste, and other speed spells, combined with the ability to foretell the future and create buffs for those he’s with. He’s also got a variety of conditional high-attack damage-dealing Skills. Stuff like ‘if X person moves here after three steps and if Y person is in this location and the moon is waxing’ kind of thing.” My jaw drops, and Ali shrugs. “Conditional Skills and Spells give more bang for the buck in terms of Mana output. Like three to four times.”
“Damn.”
“Lots of people have tried to replicate his success. A few have gotten decent results, but no one’s made it to Heroic levels yet,” Ali says. “Rumors are, he’s also specced for very high levels of Luck.”
“I can see how that’d work.” I drum my fingers on the table. “All right. Fine. Tig’s Guild might be viable. But tell me of some others.”
“Right. Next, we’ve got the Tex-98s. They’re aligned to the Technocrats. Not particularly an issue for you, but the reason I’m talking about them is that the Technocrats are sort-of aligned with the Questors too. Add the fact that we’ve got our Elemental Affinities and they’ll be slavering over us joining them. Now, their Guild Leader…”
I lean forward and pay attention, resigning myself to some study about these matters. Whether I like it or not, I’ll have a lot of options and I’ll have to make a decision at some point. Best to make the decision while the ball is in my court.
Once we’d discussed and thrown around names and ideas, in the end, we came up with a short list of guilds. I stuck NAGA on that list because, well, I’m still drawn to the idea of being neutral. Even if I know I’m not seen as that. Probing my thought processes a little more, I must admit I’m a bit pissed with both the Traditionalists and the Fist for setting up Earth the way they did. So maybe I’m not as neutral as I’d like to think I am.
Once the list was decided upon, it was time to actually visit the guilds. While I’d seen the buildings that hosted the various Adventurer guilds, we hadn’t stopped at them. Interestingly enough, the majority of guilds ringed Irvina’s Arena, rather than the Prime Dungeon as I’d expected. It seemed that the dungeon had initially been set up some distance out of town, but years of development had enveloped it. Rather than the guilds, what grew up around the dungeon itself were the butchers, harvesters, and other shops that dealt with the produce of the dungeon. Instead, the guilds clustered around the Arena, a place to test and train their people while showcasing their strength.
“The Verdant Green Waters,” I read, staring at the sign right above the double doors leading into the guild. The building appears relatively quiet, but that’s no surprise considering it’s the middle of the day. Most people would come in during the morning and evening. Only those who finish their quests early or are in to relax or socialize would wander in during the middle of the day. “A bit pretentious, no?”
“It’s better in our native tongue,” the short yellow creature with red cheeks says to me.
My ears twitch slightly as I glare at the fellow who managed to sneak up. It’s particularly impressive considering I have the ability to see through most Stealth Skills and tech.
Peemoracha ‘Pi’ Kyaka (Level 38 Shadow Master) (M)
HP: 1780/1780
MP: 4530/4530
Conditions: Shadow Servant (x3), Linked Form, Shadow Clone
“Your native tongue?” I say.
“The founder was part of my clan,” Pi says with a slight smile. “We get tons of our members from my clan. Even if we are small. Our clan, that is. Not the guild.”
“Don’t let him fool you. His ‘clan’ spans four solar systems and has a combined population over twenty billion.”
“Right.” I look at him with Society’s Web for a second. Ever since leaving Earth, I’ve found little use for the Skill. After all, I’m trying as hard as I can to avoid politics. But the myriad webs, both small and big, that lead from him clue me in. “You’re the Guild Master, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” Pi admits. “I sensed you outside. Your shadow’s heavy. Thought it’d be time to deepen the shadows. Talk.”
“Trying to convince me to join you?”
“Of course,” Pi admits. “Inside?”
I sigh and follow the yellow man, grumbling quietly to myself. Still, this is a Tier II guild, like the rest on my short list. We decided to join Tier II guilds rather than a Tier I, not because we couldn’t but because of the hassle involved. Better to be a big fish in a smaller pond than a big fish in a big pond. Since I don’t want to be saddled with too many obligations, I can probably make my case this way. At least, that’s what I try to explain to Pi.
But after my explanation, the alien sighs. “Not sure this works. We’re about loyalty. Brothers in shadows.”
I can’t help but nod to acknowledge his point. The loyalty that the guild is known to share with its members was the main selling point and the reason I’m here. If I have to join a guild, joining one known to back its people seems a good trade.
“But loyalty has to be earned. You want loyalty from us. But only want to offer a little. Not a fair trade, no?”
I offer Pi a wry smile even as I admit he’s right. After all, I’m basically asking him to give me full rights to do what I want while enjoying the protection of their guild and their services. In turn, I promise to only occasionally help them. And of course, pay my dues.
“Not going to work, Redeemer. You not want to change offer?” When I shake my head, Pi nods. “Not worth it then.”
I grimace but stand, almost offering my hand before Ali’s hiss and a note on Galactic customs makes me freeze. Right. Shaking hands is not exactly considered good manners in the galaxy. “No hard feelings.”
“Good,” Pi says with a flattening of his ears.
I follow the man out, sighing. Well, one done. On to the next.
“We at Enkrago pride ourselves on our connections throughout the Galaxy. We’re always one of the first guilds to a developing world, ensuring that we develop strong connections with the natives,” Joffrey says, the Enkrago’s Vice-Guild Master. He is, amusingly, a bookish Hakarta with a pair of bladed whips strapped to his thighs. “Of course, in the case of Earth, we have established six guild halls in your ‘Africa.’”
Well, that explains why I don’t recall them. My time in Africa was cut short, mostly due to a rather unfortunate death while I was visiting. That kind of leaves a bit of a taint in other people’s mouths. So I rarely visited, just popping in to deal with problems when they occurred.
“If you join Enkrago, we can guarantee you some of the best paid and most exclusive quests in the System. Our connections give us amazing opportunities that cannot be rivaled. If you’re looking to join an expedition, get paid to hunt dangerous beasts, conquer settlements, or just explore new dungeons, we’ve got it all,” Joffrey continues, almost bouncing in his seat in excitement. “I can tell you, a Combat Classer of your Level would attract a significant number of new, personal requests.
“On top of that, if I may be so bold, I can help you fill out your current party roster. Once we put out the word that the Redeemer of the Dead is looking for new members, we’ll be flooded.”
I raise my hand, but Joffrey continues to blither on for a few minutes. I have to switch on my Aura to drag his attention to me before I can speak. “That’s great and all, but you didn’t listen. I don’t want to take on too many quests. Or find new party members. Or be bugged about new things to do. I have my own plans.”
“Well, of course you do! And we’d do our best to meet them,” Joffrey says, nodding firmly as his huge nostrils flare. “We will only send the most important quests your way. We can even set up a minimum deposit requirement.”
“That’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying I doubt I’ll take on any quests at all,” I say.
“Oh, of course. Most of our Master Classers don’t. Just meeting with our patrons and taking one Class B or higher quest every six months should be more than sufficient,” Joffrey says.
“Class B?” I open my mouth to question him then shut it, holding up a hand to stop Joffrey’s blithering. “You know what, never mind. I think I’ve heard enough.”
“Really? Perfect. I’ll get the paperwork ready—”
“No, no. I still need to look into some other things. Don’t worry, I’ll call you if I decide to go with the Enkrago.”
“Of course. You have my contact information, right? Well, here it is again,” Joffrey says, though some of his enthusiasm has wavered.
I head out of the private office. Beside me, Ali is laughing silently and invisibly, a giant bag of popcorn in hand.
“That’s it?” I say, eyeing the NAGA guild.
“Yup.”
“That can’t be it.”
“It is.”
“That’s…” I look up and down the stall. It’s literally a stall installed into the side of the building, large enough to fit the bored-looking grey creature with big eyes and nothing else. “Underwhelming. I thought you said there was a guild branch here.”
“It is a guild branch. That’s the guild master,” Ali crows, savoring his triumph as I struggle to hide my disappointment. I mean, I like to think I’m not hugely influenced by glitz and glam, but seeing the difference between the large and ostentatious guild branches that I’ve visited and this…
“Maybe we’ll come back later?” I say hesitantly.
Somehow, this physical example of how little the guild offers has hit more than all the talking we did beforehand. While the part of me that doesn’t want to get involved still refuses to back down, the more rational part is telling it to shut up. Compromise is something I can do. The gods know I did more than enough of that while getting Earth on the Council.
Guild after guild, I pop in to talk to them. Some are obsequious and slimy, desperate to get me involved. Others are accommodating, willing to work with my requests so long as I am willing to compromise on my own requests. And others are more hesitant, wishing to work with me but wanting to explore our relationship on a temporary basis. It’s not entirely the red-carpet treatment Ali had painted. Eventually, I find myself in Tig’s Guild, Mikito’s choice.
“Redeemer.” Draco, the Vice-Guild Master of the Irvina branch, sits before me, legs crossed. That he has two that he crosses and two—and a tail—that he uses to balance himself makes the snake/dragon hybrid a sight to behold. After seeing his weird number of limbs, his beautiful purple and green scales and his long, lizard-like face aren’t that shocking.
Draco min Tish, Vice-Guild Master, The Silent Killer, Nightwarden, Monster Slayer, Duellist, more… (Level 43 Inked Mage) (M)
HP: 1570/1570
MP: 9890/9890
Conditions: Flame Friend, Reinforced Scales, Ink Armor, Layered Power, Mana Battery (B), Health Battery (A)
“Before you ask, an Inked Mage is normally someone who uses tattoos to fight. Though with Draco’s scales, I have a feeling that he’s altered the way he uses his Class slightly.”
“Vice-Guild Master,” I say respectfully. His titles, if not his Level, would have me be respectful. As for his Levels… well, that’s more than enough to make me somewhat wary. “Thank you for seeing me.”
“As if I would not speak with a potential Master recruit. The Spear mentioned that you would likely arrive,” Draco says. “I did warn the Spear that your acceptance to our guild would be dependent upon your own accomplishments.”
“Oh?” I raise an eyebrow, curious. This is the first time one of the guilds has been so blunt. Especially when someone like Mikito has already vouched for me. I wonder if it’s my Reputation. Or something else.
“You come with a degree of infamy. While we are—somewhat—aligned with the Expansionists, a significant portion of our members are also members of the Fist faction. That your actions have caused one of the Dungeon Worlds to become less welcoming to members of that faction is difficult,” Draco says. “And while your combat ability is without doubt, it seems you have some reservations about joining a guild fully.”
“I do.” I consider how to say the rest. “Firstly, I’m always going to put humanity first. Guild or no guild, if there’s a conflict—”
“A non-issue. Species-upon-species conflicts is a common exception.”
“Good. I also don’t want to accept quests willy-nilly. Frankly, I’m here at Irvina to study at the Questors’ hall.”
“Yes. The Spear mentioned that.” Draco makes a face. “While we do not have any objections to Questors, we’ve found many of them to be either extremely foolhardy in their attempts to test new hypotheses or entirely too reluctant to join expeditions.”
“Well, I’m not planning on running any tests that will endanger others.” I pause before adding, “And I’m going to need a lot of funds very soon. So running the dungeons is a non-issue.”
“Until you acquire sufficient funds,” Draco says. “At which point you’ll disappear and shelter yourself under our guild’s name.”
I shrug slightly, not denying his words.
“You are very straightforward.”
“Is there a point lying?” I ask.
“No.”
“I’m also not looking to get assigned any special duties or do any of the paperwork,” I continue, figuring I might as well finish my spiel.
“That is a non-issue. Few Combat Classers are suited for desk work.”
“Well, that’d be about it then.” Really, my wants and needs weren’t much. Just don’t bother me and let me do my thing. But…
“I’m currently failing to see what we would gain from having you in our Guild, Redeemer,” Draco says.
“Truth be told, so am I.”
“Oy!” Ali exclaims, rolling his eyes as he floats over. “That’s a horrible bargaining statement. And you know boy-o brings a ton. While he might not want to do quests, if you’ve got any bleeding heart quests out there, if you waved it in front of his face, he’d probably go help. Not too often of course, ‘cause I’d get pissed.”
“Bleeding heart?”
“Mana siphon quests,” Ali says.
Draco nods, looking me up and down consideringly. “Ah. One of those. Rare at the Master level.”
“He’s all kind of rare,” Ali says. “Add the fact that you haven’t seen him and Mikito get to work. Your people might be good, but those two are another thing altogether.”
“I’ve seen the Spear’s returns,” Draco says. “Impressive, considering her level and lack of knowledge of the local dungeons.”
“Going in cold is kind of our thing,” I say, stepping in. “In fact, if you guys ever have new dungeons—”
“Not a feature of our city dungeons,” Draco says. “But the city does have kill and Mana thresholds for each guild. If you and the Spear are able to elevate our level…”
“No guarantees,” I say.
“No problem,” Ali says at the same time.
I glare at Ali, who opens up a notification window for me to look at. It’s a ranking chart of the various guilds and their Mana dispersal contribution—a.k.a. kill points. As in, the Mana that gets dispersed when you kill a monster. And all it takes is a quick review to make me realize why Ali’s willing to make the guarantee. The guild is close and getting them to the next level would only take a little bit of work. From what I recall of Vancouver’s dungeon, the Mana points each monster provides increases as their levels increase. All I have to do is kill a bunch of high-Level monsters for a few days. Probably.
“You’re confident, I’ll give you that.” Draco shrugs as he stands. “Well, let’s see how well you do. You’re a spellsword, correct?”
“Paladin of Erethra.”
“I was speaking of your fighting style. Magic and sword, yes?” Draco says impatiently as he leads me out of the room.
I follow after agreeing, already having an inkling of where we’re going. And while he hasn’t agreed to us joining—and I haven’t said I would—I have to admit, I’m curious to test myself out against his people.
He says, “Room three should be fine.”
“Three?”
“We have four training rooms that can be used at any time. The first two are meant for Basic and Advanced Classes, the third for Master Classes. The last is set up for ranged combatants of all levels,” Draco says. “You’ll show us what you have in the third room.”
When we arrive, I eye the training room. On first look, it seems to be a plain room filled with tall posts with arms sticking out of them. Those arms glow with enchantments—some sparkling with ice, others burning with fire, and even an occasional post cackling with lightning. The floor itself is dark sand while the ceiling is bare of any dangers. So. The moving posts are the greatest danger.
Well. That, and the six-foot-tall Amazon with flame-red hair that literally ripples as she stands there. I find myself staring at her chest, the disjointed look of her body throwing me off for a second before I shake my head. The galaxy is entirely too weird when basic symmetry is no longer an issue. On the other hand, the bow and arrows that my opponent carries is worrying, considering I also have an obstacle course to get through. Or would be if I couldn’t Blink Step.
“Clear the room. Don’t kill anyone,” Draco says then steps backward.
I nod amiably, but the moment I take my eyes off the Amazon, she’s drawn and fired her bow. The arrow shrieks through the air, and I barely dodge the attack, the arrow plucking at my hair as it flies past. A Soul Shield gets layered on within seconds, which is good because her follow-up arrow slams into my shield, the arrow head shattering into pieces and pelting my shield. I snarl, ducking low and hiding behind a post.
It’s useless though. Her arrows arc over and around my cover as if she can see around it. I conjure swords and cut a pair of projectiles apart, but the second one explodes as I do so, wrapping me in flame. Which is exactly the kind of distraction I’ve been waiting for.
Ali’s taken to the sky, hovering high above and observing the whole situation. He’s high enough that I can use his gaze to Blink Step right behind the Amazon, throwing a cut as I spin around to catch her by surprise.
Funnily enough, I’m the one caught out. The ground surges up as the black sand parts, the sand elemental wrapping around my legs as it crawls along my body.
My cut still catches the Amazon high on her back, tearing apart her gleaming metallic armor. The attack isn’t good enough to kill or disable though, as the Amazon throws herself into a roll to get away. In the meantime, the damn sand elemental glomps onto my arm and crawls up the rest of my body even as it constricts my movements.
Blink Step takes me high, but surprisingly, the elemental is still with me. I fall hard, since I can’t actually splay or otherwise shift myself to take the impact. We land and crater the ground slightly even as I spot the Amazon raising her bow. A moment later, a sharp shock ripples through my side, a Mana-enhanced arrow landing in a tiny gap that the elemental created for the attack. It hurts, especially as the Mana arrows ignore my base defenses.
“You’re annoying me,” I growl. Flexing my arms, I find them pressed against my body as though steel bands were holding me down. Well, steel bands for my pre-System self. Pure strength seems to be out of the question. So… “Let it burn.”
I call down the Beacon of the Angels right on top of the Amazon. The attack catches her by surprise, the beam of brilliant white light appearing from above with little warning as the woman focuses on my thrashing form. There’s not enough time for the Amazon to dodge, though she tries. As for the sand elemental, there’s nowhere for it to go. The beam splashes over both of us, sending the elemental screaming and rippling over my body. Even so, it continues to hold me down, unwilling to let go.
I growl softly, straining against the sandman and finding no give. By this point, I’m entirely entombed in the creature and it is attempting to infiltrate my orifices. Panic attempts to overtake me then, as claustrophobia asserts itself. Entombed, unable to move, my body slowly being invaded as oxygen runs out. It’s a nightmare scenario of epic proportions.
But I’ve been in worse positions. Thousand hells, I threw myself down the gullet of a nightmare creature, choking on its bile just to win. And my mental resistances are better now. I no longer need to sheathe myself in anger. Instead I wrap myself in calm.
“Ali—polar zone.”
I leave the Spirit to cast the spell for me, lowering the temperature and slowing down the Amazon and chilling the sand elemental. Then I cast Ice Blast, letting the attack out from my trapped hands into the elemental. Once, then again.
I feel it thrashing in pain. Without being asked, Ali continues to channel the Polar Zone while adding an Ice Storm above us. The temperature drops and drops, but I’m snug and warm in the elemental. The elemental is held together only by bonds of Mana and will, both of which are under attack. Its body hardens as it grows slightly wet from the ice and the spells restrict it. Already those questing tendrils that invade my nostrils have stopped moving. Even as my body coughs and jerks, attempting to free itself, my mind chants the spells and layers them again and again.
“Get out here, boy-o. Lady A is trying to pincushion me. And I’m too young to be an embroidery.”
I’m too busy to even work out what the Spirit is trying to say. But as another Ice Blast smashes apart the elemental, I decide it’s time. I throw my not-inconsiderable strength against the bonds holding me while drawing all the lent strength possible from the System, disregarding its other benefits. I feel my muscles bunch and twist and tendons tear, muscle fibers twisting and joints popping as my body, no longer held together by the System as I apply the full power of the Strength attribute, comes apart. Even as I tear myself apart, the System helps by healing me, stitching torn muscle and tendons together as fast as I tear them apart. I roar in muted agony as I strain, pushing against the elemental, blood flooding my mouth.
A crack, a snap. But this time, it’s from the elemental as I shatter the sand cage of its body. It falls away and I roll aside as I Blink Step into mid-air, freeing myself of the foreign substances within me. This time around, the elemental doesn’t come along, too damaged to try. Oxygen, blessed oxygen, floods my body. I find myself coughing and spluttering as blood and air mix in entirely inappropriate ways.
Gravity takes over and I fall, peppered by arrows. The first knocks me sideways, spinning me about, while the next two pierce my body and set up a circuit that runs between the arrows within my body.
“Aaaarggh!” High pain threshold or not, having your body cooked from the inside out is agonizing. I fall to the ground, scrambling to pull out the arrows. Another arrow sprouts in my shoulder, but I throw up a Spirit Shield to stop the next two while I toss the shock arrows aside. “You like lightning, do you?”
I raise my hand. Rage bubbles up in me as I watch the Amazon dash away and hide behind the spinning pillars. Even running away, dodging between the pillars, she’s launching arrows at me. I layer the Soul Shield again, making sure it’s all the way up before I release my attack.
Lightning darts from my hand, playing across the room. I don’t bother trying to guide it, allowing the destructive power of free-flowing electrons to heat and shatter poles, to jump between enchanted arms to land on other extended arms. To ground itself in sand and flesh, to sear and cauterize, to melt and mangle. The lightning dances and I find myself grinning.
“Enough, Redeemer. I’ve seen enough.” Draco’s voice cuts into my fun, and I find myself sighing as I let the spell go.
About time. I’m down to the last thousand or so of my Mana. But as I survey the damage, I’m a little impressed with myself. The most damaged are the poles next to me, but there’s a trail of smoking wreckage. On the ground about two-thirds of the way away from me are the Amazon and the elemental.
“How’d I do?” I say, strolling forward.
“A solid C.”
“C?” I frown, the competitive Chinese in me rearing up. God knows how many times I’ve been beaten for getting a B, never mind a C.
“C. You took too long to deal with the sand elemental. And your coordination with your Spirit is lacking,” Draco’s voice is dispassionate as he continues. “You are able to deal a significant amount of damage, but your combat experience is still lacking. Your tactics are well-known and easy to predict. You react to danger instinctively by reaching for a larger, more powerful attack, rather than subtlety.”
“It worked, didn’t it?” I say defensively.
“It worked. For now. As you progress, more and better-trained opponents will appear,” Draco says. “In the end, you’re too used to fighting monsters. Until you apply yourself to fighting other sentients, until you gain the necessary experience, I cannot increase your rating.”
I growl but clamp my mouth shut. He’s right. The sand elemental and Amazon-girl are high Advanced Classes only. Even working together, they shouldn’t have caused me so much trouble. They might have their own buffs, speed increases, and coordination, but I should have done better. Had to do better.
“Fine. You’re right.” I exhale forcefully. “But it’s not as if I can just go around picking fights.”
“But you can train. Here.” Draco waves around the training room, which the System is already restoring. “The guild can provide a large number of training partners for you. Give you the variety and experience you lack.”
“For?” I ask suspiciously.
“Well, you’ll be training our people too. But I’ll expect you to take up a guild-designated quest each month you train.”
“I won’t take just any quest.”
“Agreed. But you will take one.”
“Done.”
“Then welcome to Tig’s Guild,” Draco says.
“You call it that too?” I say with a slight smile.
“I don’t have the required number of vocal chords to pronounce it in the original language. Or the time to say its full name properly in Galactic,” Draco says. “And the guild master has banned calling it anything but its proper name. As such, we’ve taken to calling it his guild.”
I find myself nodding, accepting the fact that I’m now in Tig’s guild. Even if it’s not perfect, I like Draco. I like what he’s selling, and since Mikito is part of the guild already, it’ll make partying with her much easier. And frankly, of the groups I’ve seen, this seems to work for me. They might not be as close-knit as the Green Waters or as effective as the Enkrago, but a middle ground is good. A middle ground is balance.
I’m surprised when I finally get back to our hotel suite and find that I’ve got a visitor. Thankfully, the presence of familiar guards in front of the suite doors gave her presence away well before I walked in.
“How’d you get the key?” I say, flopping down in a chair opposite Katherine. Not that key is the right term, since it’s more of a Status update and permission, but whatever.
“I am the one paying for these rooms,” Katherine says. “Also, Mikito told me I could come in any time I wanted.”
I grunt an affirmative, looking over the older woman carefully. For the first time in a long while, I actually look at my ex-secretary, taking in the changes the System had wrought upon her. There aren’t a lot, but they’re definitely there—a tightening in the skin on her face, the smoothing out of lines, and a little more luster in her hair. There’s more definition in her arms and body, a slight filling out and slimming down as she grew healthier through the application of points. More interesting is the subtle pressure of presence that even I can notice, a significant increase from before. It makes Katherine stand out even when she’s sitting still. Probably the manifestation of her Charisma points.
Katherine Ward, Ambassador for Earth (Level 11 Diplomat) (B)
HP: 390/390
MP: 1820/1820
Conditions: Condition linked (x4), Social Network, Shielded, Subtle Presence, Here be my Domain
Ever since she got the job as the ambassador, Katherine has branched and multi-classed. It’s not the most effective way of getting new Classes, and I know at some point she might want to reset all her experience and points. The actual act of resetting Classes is something we’ve only recently learned is possible. Mostly due to a restriction being lifted by Rob as the new ruler of Earth.
Unfortunately, doing so comes with a huge cost. Resetting her experience points and Class Skills can only happen if an individual with the right Class is around, or via the System. But in doing so, you have to sacrifice a significant amount of experience points—somewhere along the lines of a third of everything gained. Not surprisingly, as with anything dealing with the System, there’s a huge cost in terms of banked Mana and Credits, which is why most people dual Class, especially when they’re low Basic Classes. In the short term, Katherine is going with the flow with her new Basic Class until things settle down. And it’s not as if her other Classes don’t have their own benefits.
“Right. So what are you doing here?” I say.
“Can’t a woman talk to her ex-employer without there being an external reason?”
“She could. But you haven’t.”
“And here I thought we were friends.” When I sit there in silence, not rising to her bait, Katherine grows serious. “We’ve met with a number of representatives in the city. And viewed a number of the available locations. In fact, we’ve viewed all the publicly available locations in the second ring. All twenty-three.”
I frown, thinking back to the huge amount of space in those towers. “Why so few?”
“Most locations are held directly. Few are up for lease, even fewer are available publicly to those with our Reputation levels.” Katherine pauses before adding, “And the few that are available are set at ridiculous prices.”
“How ridiculous?”
“Three months of rent would use up our entire budget for the year.”
“I guess we’re going to the outer rings,” I say, considering. “Probably third?”
“Fourth,” Ali says, butting in. “Not worth staying in the third when it’s dedicated to the Guilds. Those guys are even worse than the Empires at fighting over spaces. Though their leases change faster.”
“Yes, fourth.” Katherine inclines her head to Ali. “We’ve begun reviewing potential spaces. However, there is a disadvantage in doing so.”
“Lack of prestige?” I ask. Not that it makes much sense to me. What does it matter if your IT company is in Seattle or Silicone Valley? In downtown Vancouver or Surrey? It’s not as if travel between the two locations is that hard.
“Prestige and brand for potential investors for Earth is a concern. There are also security concerns. The fourth ring falls outside of the unofficial dentate of violent pressure tactics in the second ring,” Katherine says. “Add the fact that it’s easier to delay my arrival for important votes and it is less than satisfactory.”
“Well, that sucks, but how does that affect me? Mikito’s the one with the big Reputation points, thanks to her fights in the Arena. And she’s not been screwed over at the last minute from bad deals.” Yeah, maybe I’m still a little bitter about Rob.
“As you know, we’ve joined the Expansionist faction. Specifically, under the aegis of the Duchess of Kangana,” Katherine says. “Her representative has indicated a desire to speak with you. In return, she will be willing to open up certain of her properties for our lease.”
I twitch slightly before I still my reaction. That’s not a name I expected to hear. Though I think that’s mostly because I’ve been trying very hard not to think about her. Or a certain Weaponmaster who still wants my head on a block. “Speak? That’s it?”
“There are probably more strings,” Katherine admits readily, her expectant gaze weighing heavily on me.
My lips purse, tightening significantly, but I nod. “Set it up. I’ll talk. No guarantees of anything else, but I’ll talk.”
“Thank you, John,” Katherine says as she stands.
I raise an eyebrow at her abrupt departure but don’t try to stop her. That elicits another mysterious smile from the woman, as if she can read my thoughts. This is fast becoming a bad habit, the way so many of my friends can read me. I mean, I’ve got that damn Subtlety Perk. Shouldn’t I be harder to read? But maybe I’m not that sneaky.
The sofa molds to my body even more deeply as I slump, giving in to the sinful comfort. Every time you think you’re out, they pull you right back in. I could even promise myself this is the last time, the very last, before I do something for myself but…
But I’ve long ago worn out that level of self-delusion. I am who I am, and a sucker for certain types of situations is one of them.
I sigh, letting my eyes drift closed as I discard worries about the Duchess, instead focusing on more immediate problems. Like the dungeon I’ve got to run tomorrow.
Chapter 7
The dungeon entrance we’re waiting to enter is rather interesting. The dungeon itself is a giant biodome, one known to warp the space within to create an environment that is kilometers long. On top of that, there are multiple instances of the dungeon, allowing multiple groups to run the dungeon at any one time, which is one of its draws. Still, as we walk forward, I can’t help but comment.
“Dungeon four-dash-three?” I say, shaking my head. “Couldn’t they think of a better name?”
“It’s practical,” Ali says as he floats beside us. “When you’ve got multiple races, even with translation, it’s easier to use numbers. Everyone uses numbers.”
“Mathematics is universal,” Mikito says agreeably. “And it’s a good dungeon. Wide. Lots of quests to fulfill. Lots of monsters to kill.”
“And patterned off a lost world, which makes it of cultural importance,” Harry adds.
“Yeah, not interested in that last part. Though it’s good training for the Forbidden Zone expeditions,” Ali says, gesturing to a group of Master Classes and their late Advanced Class attendants standing around getting briefed.
I look over, eyeing their gear and set-up. There’s no way to tell if this is a trial run for picking out members or just a training exercise, but in either case, the group looks suitably serious. Of course, the expedition group will get ported in deep, skipping the lower-Level regions right next to the entrance to get some proper training in. I wonder if they’ll turn off all notifications too, just like in a Forbidden Zone.
“You don’t speak much about the Forbidden Zone,” Harry comments idly, clearly fishing.
“That’s because there’s not much to tell. Lots of monsters. Lots of violence.” Lots of loss and pain. An abandoned civilization, a discarded species. And a single Paladin who refused to give up. Memories of suffering and injury, of good times and bad crowd my mind. Four years. The majority of my time in the System.
“There’s more than that,” Harry says but gets shushed by Mikito.
I shake off the thoughts as we join the line, adding only one sentence of caution for the reporter. “Don’t even think about it. Until you’re at least a Master Class, going there is a recipe for disaster. Even Combat Classed Advanced Classers can only hang around Master Classes for safety. Even then, they mostly die. Expeditions have a seventy-percent fatality rate, with the vast majority of losses among the Advanced Classes. And wipeouts from badly planned expeditions.”
Harry nods dumbly, though from the interested looks he keeps sending after the expedition group, he’s obviously still considering it. I dismiss the thought, knowing I can’t stop him. Anyway, most expedition quests have minimum standards and a test for those who come along. In a place like the Forbidden Zone, hangers-on are just burdens.
“How about you, toots? Interested in joining an expedition?” Ali says to the characteristically silent Mikito.
“Maybe. As a Master Class,” Mikito says, shifting her grip on her naginata. “We have something more important to focus on now.”
“Good point,” I say, cutting off Ali. “Anything I should know that isn’t on the general description?”
Mikito seems to ponder the question. “Multiple monster types. Snakes, four-legs, simian-types. Mostly smaller, so hard to hit but with a lot of hit points. Tendency to attack in groups, using basic team tactics. Lots of herbs and other collecting quests. Variety drops as you get deeper in but value increases. Minerals too.” I nod, even if most of that knowledge was already in the official information for the dungeon. “Maps are useless. Jungle moves, so you’re constantly bushwhacking. Trees are alive. Lots of poison attacks. That’s about it. What kind of quests did you get?”
I wave, sending over the information rather than speak. I doubt there’s any difference, considering Mikito and I are part of the same guild. Harry joined a completely different guild, one that focused on support Classes like his. I know he’s picked up a number of low-level quests for the area, but I also know he’s mostly along for the ride here. Considering how old this particular dungeon is, there’s little to be gained from reporting on it again.
“Same as mine,” Mikito says disappointedly. “No special requests for the Master Class?’
I ignore her tone, knowing she’s mostly teasing. “There were two escort requests for Advanced Classers into the more dangerous portions.”
Unsaid is the fact that I turned them down. So all we’ve got are a bunch of collection quests for various loot drops from the dungeon. It’s not particularly exciting, but considering how often this dungeon is farmed, it’s not surprising.
As we talk, we finally reach the front of the line.
“Statuses,” the robot intones, and we all flash the relevant part of our guild standings. The robot assesses the information before it speaks. “Please pick portal start location. Please take exit tokens. Store tokens carefully. Emergency teleportation exits will be fined as per dungeon rules 1.9.12.4.1.”
We each grab one of the tokens that are deposited in the slot and put it in our inventory. Mikito takes charge of picking our teleportation location, choosing one that is two-thirds of the way in, close to but not in the main zone for Master Classes. Once the robot acknowledges the choice, the portal doorway changes color and we step through, entering our first alien dungeon together.
The first thing that gets my attention upon arriving is color. Trunks are a dark brown, nearly black, color. Instead of multiple shades of lush greenery, the leaves are all a sickly yellow and orange. Most of the leaves look like large ferns, branches spreading outward in expansive, sky-covering foliage. Occasionally, fruit and flowers can be seen, ranging in color from pus-yellow to garish pink. The whole ensemble makes the entire thing like a bad trip, or at least, what a bad trip looks like when Hollywood gets to work. I’ve never experienced one myself, and with my current resistances, it’s something I never will.
Hallucinogenic poison resisted
Right. I tap my helmet, watching it extract from the banded metallic collar around my neck to cover my face completely. A second later, I’m breathing clean, clear air as the helmet filters out the slightly acrid, poisonous scent.
I turn toward Ali, who floats alongside. “Poison?”
“Eh. Humans don’t handle the breakdown of the plant matter here well.” The Spirit shrugs, looking perfectly at ease.
I try not to get annoyed. Mikito came in with her helmet on, as did Harry, so they probably never even realized I was unaware. Guild warnings probably missed the fact or ignored it, since it seems to be a human frailty. Eyeing the surroundings, I wait for the Japanese lady to lead the way. Right now, I’m just the muscle, since Mikito’s been here a few times.
After a few awkward moments of no one moving, Harry speaks up. “I’m done with my videos if anyone was waiting for me.”
“Great,” I say. “Mikito?”
“I’m ready.”
“Good.”
Silence descends again, and still, no one moves. Awkwardly, I add, “You going?”
“Me?” Mikito tilts her head, meeting my gaze directly. “Aren’t you leading?”
“Well, normally, but you’ve been here before.”
“No, I haven’t,” Mikito says. “We’ve been a couple of locations back, working the edges of the Advanced Class region in here. I wanted to slowly work them in.”
“Right, but you’ve been in the dungeon before.”
“So?” Mikito says with a shrug. “It’s not that hard.”
I growl then throw up my hands, deciding to stop arguing. Fine. If she wants me to lead, I’ll lead. It’s not as if it’s that big a problem. Since the deeper we go into the dungeon from the physical entrance, the more dangerous it is, I decide to cut parallel to the gate. This way we’ll be able to stay in roughly the same level area, keeping us safe. At least till I have a better idea how dangerous this dungeon actually is.
Having decided on what I want to do, I communicate it to my friends. Ali flies ahead, taking over scouting. With his insubstantial body and ability to fly, the Spirit is a good scout. Especially after I make him go visible. His initial presence can and does elicit occasional attacks from dumb plants, fast teaching the rest of us which forms of vegetation to avoid.
There are giant flowers that spit acid or poison, vines that are so sticky a single touch binds you to them. After that, other vines drop from above, wrapping you around and slowly constricting. There’s this set of fungi-looking biomatter that glows gently then explodes in bright light, blinding and flash-frying the area around them. Amazingly enough, the plants that exist next to the flash-shroom have grown to withstand these attacks. I spend a moment staring at the entire mini-ecosystem in fascination.
“The purple plants that look like rocket ships? The ‘thrusters’ get charged up by the explosions. When it’s ready, the entire thing launches into the air, spreading the plant’s seeds. Now, are you done?”
I grunt, accepting that Ali wants to keep moving. I admit, the alien ecosystem before us is absurd. Part of me wonders how much the System changed, how much has evolved because of the Mana density flooding the space, and how much was part of the original planet’s biology. Unfortunately, academic musings are cut short by another threat, this time from a partly-sentient tree that expels its sap in a sticky, rubbery offense.
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