Awaken Online (Book 3.5): Apathy

by Bagwell, Travis

  Camouflage is the art of concealing things in plain sight. Sort of like an innocent potion-delivery maid who moonlights as a bloodthirsty sociopath – except more leaves and… well, whatever people typically use as camouflage.

  Skill Level: Beginner Level 5

  Effect: 5% increased chance to avoid Perception checks.

  x5 Skill Rank Up: Cold Grasp

  Skill Level: Intermediate Level 1

  Effect 1: Increases radius by 11%

  Effect 2: Increases damage by 1%

  x5 Skill Rank Up: Poisons

  Skill Level: Beginner Level 9

  Effect: 9% chance to add a second random poison effect.

  x1 Skill Rank Up: Herbalism

  Skill Level: Intermediate Level 1

  Effect 1: Allows the player to harvest more difficult or dangerous plants. 5.5% chance for double ingredients.

  Effect 2: Low-level ingredients appear on the map and are highlighted.

  x1 Skill Rank Up: Alchemy

  Skill Level: Intermediate Level 3

  Effect 1: Increases success chance of crafting potions and potion potency by 13%.

  Effect 2: Reduces ingredient consumption by 3%.

  She had made remarkable progress in just a few days. Her strategy of killing the other players was much more effective than attempting to hunt individual monsters or level solely by training her crafting. It also helped that her approach involved both combat and crafting, which allowed her to level even more quickly, by spending her evenings working on her Alchemy and Herbalism skills. She suspected that most players wasted the downtime during the evenings in-game when hunting became more difficult.

  With a flick of her wrist, Eliza brought up her Character Status to review her progress.

  She had been hoarding stat points until yesterday when she had finally decided to start allocating them. After some deliberation, she had decided to allocate points to her Intelligence and Willpower to increase her mana pool and the power of her spells. Then she had assigned points to the remaining stats on a roughly equal basis. She saw a lot of benefit from Strength and Dexterity as she tried to navigate the forest and climb trees to avoid other players.

  If only my real body were this nimble, she thought as she balanced easily in the tree – not for the first time resenting her clumsiness in the world. It turned out that a little Dexterity fixed that problem in-game.

  Her plan was also coming along well. She had significantly reduced the number of players that were entering the western forest. Most had moved to the north and south of town to avoid the traps – the damage and respawn time being too costly for most low-level players. As a result, she was now in a position to more safely hunt the Silver Stag – which she knew to frequent a lake near her current location. She had been back to the lake on several occasions to scout it out, as well as to check how many players were hanging around that area.

  At that thought, Eliza began her descent from the tree. She dropped carefully to a lower branch, and her feet thudded against the forest floor a moment later, her cloak flapping around her. With a swift gesture, she brought up her map and shifted it to her peripheral vision. Dozens of blue circles were shown all around her as she made her way forward – each indicating the location of her traps.

  She stopped occasionally to loot a corpse or to refresh a trap location, making a circuitous path among the blue circles on her map. As a result, it took her nearly an hour to make it to the familiar lake to the southwest of Falcon’s Hook. As she neared the shoreline, Eliza slowed and quickly climbed a nearby tree. She had learned to be careful and find a vantage point near the lake. Several other player groups had already figured out that the stag occasionally frequented this spot to drink.

  As Eliza assumed a perch in a nearby tree, she pulled up her map again. The lake rested nearby, its placid water reflecting the sunlight. She couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary from her current location, but her map revealed that nearly every inch of the shoreline had been dotted with her traps. She had summoned the trap circles the evening before. She wasn’t taking any chances.

  The only plan Eliza had for the day was to wait for the stag. It should be coming back soon. She had seen it three times already – each event spaced about two days apart. By her calculations, today should be the day that the creature returned to the lake.

  Hopefully, this would also be its last visit.

  Eliza sat in the tree for hours without any sign of movement, eventually opening the in-game console and scouring the net for any additional information regarding the creature. There was precious little available, and most players were cautious about posting anything since there was still a bounty on the stag’s head. Yet it never hurt to hunt for any possible advantage.

  As she was finally starting to think about giving up for the day, Eliza detected a faint movement along the edge of the shore – just a slight tremble of a few leaves. It was more than she had seen in hours and her eyes trained on the spot, her breath catching hopefully.

  Could this finally be it?

  Slowly – to the point that it was almost painful – a single silver-furred hoof emerged from the brush. It was soon followed by the familiar body of the Silver Stag, its intricate horns jutting into the air. The creature seemed to be moving more cautiously than normal. Eliza could only assume that this meant that the players had become more daring over time. The deer sniffed at the air delicately and tilted its head from side to side as though scanning the area.

  Seemingly convinced that there were no threats nearby, the creature took a few tentative steps toward the water. Eliza held her breath, her eyes darting to the map hovering in the air beside her. The stag was close to one of her traps – really, really close. If it took just one more step forward, she would finally have it.

  Eliza’s hands clenched at her cloak, balling the fabric between her fingers. She silently prayed for the deer to take that one final step forward. Its hoof lifted from the ground as though in slow motion and moved forward at a snail’s pace. As her heart thumped in her chest, Eliza finally saw the stag’s hoof land in the center of her trap circle.

  Shards of ice immediately speared upward, shattering the two vials that Eliza had carefully placed in each trap circle. The spears were stained a mottled green and yellow – Eliza not wanting to cut corners when she was this close to finally attaining her goal. The beast’s reflexes were amazing, and it nearly avoided the trap. However, an errant shard pierced the stag’s leg, bright red blood staining its silvery fur.

  The beast let out a pained bleat, its leg trapped by the ice as the poisons swiftly entered its bloodstream. It smashed its antlers against the ice frantically, the bone tearing apart the spears quickly and finally freeing its leg. Then the Silver Stag tried to turn and run. It managed a single leap before faltering slightly, stumbling to the side off balance. It then took another wobbly step forward and sunk to its knees.

  This was it. This was the moment that Eliza had been waiting for. She frantically dropped down from her perch, but as she reached the ground, she suddenly froze – the sound of voices drifting through the air.

  “Look what we have here,” a male voice boomed across the shore. “Someone was nice enough to leave the stag just lying here.”

  Eliza peeked out from behind the trunk of the tree, the bottom dropping out of her stomach as she saw a group of at least a dozen green-garbed players standing around the deer. The leader was familiar – she would remember that particular face anywhere. It was the same man that ordered her death a few days before. In fact, this entire situation gave her an eerie sense of déjà vu.

  “After all this time, this seems a little anti-climactic,” the player drawled. “Though I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Or should I say a gift stag,” he added with a chuckle that was echoed by his crew. Without further ado, the player stabbed forward with his spear, neatly impaling the deer’s throat and a helpless gurgle erupted from the pinned and poisoned creature.

  Eliza cou
ld only look on in horror, her mind wheeling. What was she going to do? After coming all this way, could she really just let these players walk off with the stag? But how could she take on so many at once? She was too far away to use Obscuring Mist, and the players had somehow managed to avoid her traps – perhaps catching on to her novice camouflage?

  What am I going to do? That single question kept rebounding through her head. She just didn’t have an answer.

  Chapter 20 - Duplicitous

  Eliza bit her lip, her mind wracked by indecision as she watched the players mill around the corpse of the Silver Stag. Two of the men pulled their daggers and began the process of skinning the deer while the others stood guard nearby.

  There were at least twelve of them, and she couldn’t be certain that there weren’t more hiding deeper in the forest. They were heavily armed, each member of the group robed in leather armor and carrying a spear. She also hadn’t missed the longbows slung over their shoulders – indicating that they would be just as dangerous at a distance.

  She huddled against the tree, pulling her dark green cloak tighter around her to better conceal her presence. Her Ice Bolt spell was out. At best, she could probably hit one or two before they took her down under a hail of arrows. Her Obscuring Mist and Cold Grasp were also ineffective at this range. She would need to be much, much closer to successfully use those spells.

  Maybe I can just wait them out.

  If she gave them time to finish up with the deer and head back to Falcon’s Hook, she might be able to follow them through the woods and ambush them with her traps. Yet she immediately discarded that thought. She hadn’t even seen the players until they dropped from Sneak. They were clearly stealthier than she was – which she had to admit wasn’t saying much.

  What does that leave me? She thought frantically, her stomach clenching as she saw how quickly the men were preparing the deer. If she didn’t move soon, then she was going to lose her opportunity.

  Her racing thoughts centered on the memory of her first encounter with the players. They had been dismissive of her – a young alchemist out in the woods by herself. They had challenged her story that she was just in the forest looking for ingredients and had only stumbled upon the stag by chance. However, she remembered that the leader and his crew had wavered. Realistically, what chance did an alchemist have of slaying the Silver Stag?

  They had killed her primarily because they didn’t want witnesses or anyone following them, but what if they had needed her for something?

  That thought gave her pause, the germ of an idea beginning to take shape in Eliza’s mind. It was crazy, and she would almost certainly die. Yet, even as her worries started to resurface, she forcefully tamped down on them. This was a game, after all. What was the point of playing if she never took a risk? Was she going to back down now just because she was scared?

  Eliza took a deep breath and then forced herself to take the first tentative step away from the tree, her thoughts focused on the story that she would need to tell the players. She was going to need to be very careful about how she played this.

  She let her cloak part, revealing her brightly-stained tunic as she stooped to pick a nearby plant, handling the thorny stem gingerly. It was useless for her poisons, but the players wouldn’t know that. At the same time, she began humming to herself, trying her best to go for a carefree tune. The sound that came out of her mouth sounded more like a baby bird dying than a happy whistle, but it was the best she could do under the circumstances.

  As she kept up this act, Eliza made her way forward slowly, picking plants and trying her best to appear blissfully unaware of the heavily-armed players lingering at the edge of the lake – who would more than likely kill her. Needless to say, she was having some trouble keeping up appearances.

  “Halt,” a harsh voice barked a moment later.

  Eliza looked up with wide eyes at the player who now stood nearby, an arrow leveled at her forehead and the bowstring taut. Her hand was frozen midway to another plant. “W-what’s wrong?” she squeaked.

  “Shut up. I’ll be asking the questions,” he snapped, his eyes stony. “Put your hands up and come this way quickly. No sudden movements.”

  Okay, this was a really stupid plan, Eliza thought morosely.

  However, it was too late to back out now.

  She followed the man’s instructions as he guided her to the shore of the lake. The group of players looked up as they approached, their expressions hostile and their hands lingering on their weapons. They certainly wouldn’t just let her go, but she had known that already.

  “My, my. Our little alchemist returns!” the leader said, approaching slowly with a smirk curling his lips. “I suppose you didn’t learn your lesson the first time.”

  “I found her picking plants in the forest,” Eliza’s guard reported. “She didn’t seem to know we were here.”

  The leader glared at the guard before glancing at the stag’s corpse. “Well, she certainly does now! Why didn’t you kill her in the forest?”

  “I-I thought she might have other teammates nearby,” the guard muttered.

  The leader sighed in exasperation before turning to Eliza. “It’s so difficult to find good help these days. As I’m sure you’ve noticed by now, we finally managed to slay the Silver Stag.” A proud little smile lingered on his lips. “It was quite the experience, between the so-called Ice Witch that’s haunting this forest and the million traps between here and town. But the Witch finally slipped up! In fact, we have her to thank for helping us complete the bounty.”

  Turning back to Eliza, the man’s eyes went cold. “Now the question is what to do with you,” the man drawled. “I would have thought us killing you and looting your corpse would have driven the point home. You should not have returned to this lake.”

  “I-I was just trying to collect some ingredients. This area had been dangerous with the Witch’s traps, but it’s also the only place where Ferrytail Grass grows naturally,” Eliza said quietly, keeping her eyes on the ground and doing her best to look timid. It wasn’t that difficult considering that there was a strong possibility she was about to die.

  The leader’s forehead pinched as he inspected Eliza carefully, suspicion creeping across his face. “Hmph. You’re right that this place has become a death trap of late. Speaking of which, how exactly did you manage to get through all of the traps?”

  I’ve got him now, Eliza thought, trying her best to keep a triumphant smile from drifting across her face. She just needed to keep up her act and pray that the players weren’t that familiar with the in-game magic system.

  “Ahh… I…,” she began, looking uncertain.

  The player’s eyes flashed angrily, suspicion clouding his features. He slowly drew a dagger from the sheath at his waist as he stalked toward her. “I suggest you think carefully about how you reply. I’ll only ask one more time. How did you avoid the traps?”

  “T-they are water-based. I read that on the forums,” Eliza squeaked as she eyed the metal blade with wide, fearful eyes. She still remembered the sensation of a similar dagger running across her vulnerable throat.

  “And how does that help?” the player demanded in frustration, although he withdrew slightly to let her speak.

  “I-I can cast Obscuring Mist, and it r-reveals the outline of the traps,” Eliza murmured.

  This was pure, unadulterated bullshit, of course, but she was banking on the players not knowing that. None of them appeared to be mages and general knowledge about the game mechanics was pretty scarce at the moment – as her recent visits to the online forums had quickly revealed.

  “Oh, really?” the leader said, his eyebrows rising in surprise. He spared a glance at his groupmates and saw that they were paying much closer attention to the conversation now. Several murmured to each other quietly, gesturing toward Eliza.

  She felt another flash of triumph. Yes, you need to make it back to town with the pelt in order to retrieve your reward, don’t you?

&n
bsp; However, suspicion still lingered in the leader’s eyes as he turned his gaze back to Eliza. “Well, if that’s the case, then I’m sure you wouldn’t mind giving us a little demonstration? There are likely more traps nearby. We’ve only tested about a ten-foot circle around the corpse,” he explained, waving at the deer’s body.

  “Yes! I could probably help you get back to town without any trouble,” Eliza said a little too quickly, playing her part. She was happy to give them a reason not to kill her and send her on a one-way trip back to Alma’s cottage. She also noticed the way the man smiled at her desperation, and she could feel her lingering fear begin to morph into anger. These assholes had this coming.

  “I’ll need to use my wand, though,” Eliza explained, gesturing toward one of the three metal rods strapped to her waist – each bearing a different colored band. “I-is that okay?”

  “Sure, we’ll just keep a few archers trained on you in case you try something funny,” the leader explained, waving a hand at his men. Immediately, three arrows were nocked and pointed straight at Eliza.

  She gulped hard but slowly grabbed the wand at her waist with a yellow band, being careful not to make any fast moves that might entice the archers to fire. Eliza then looked to the leader for permission before beginning her spell. At his nod, moisture began to accumulate in the air in front of her – quickly forming a sphere of water. Before the ball could completely take shape, she inserted her wand and discretely depressed the button on its side. She didn’t want the bandits to know that she had changed the color of the orb.

  The sphere continued to grow in size, glowing a brilliant yellow. The leader looked at the sphere with an arched eyebrow. “An odd color for water,” he commented dryly.

  “I-it always does this,” Eliza assured him, trying for her best “pleading waif” look. Apparently, it worked because the leader nodded and motioned for her to continue.

  Here it comes, she thought as she felt the spell nearing completion. She couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at her lips, and she would never forget the look of surprise on the leader’s face as he caught sight of her ghost of a grin. He opened his mouth to shout a warning…