World Tree Online: The Mountain Valley War: 2nd Dive Concludes

by M. A. Carlson

  “Olaf, you coming with us?” Baby asked, calling up to their Minotaur friend.

  “Yeah, just give me a minute to get to you,” said Olaf, biting into some food, his HP starting to rise.

  “Looks like Olaf had a rough go of it,” said Heath.

  “He’s already out of range or I would heal him,” said Baby, seeing the Minotaur jogging toward the stairs that led inside the barracks.

  “Well, I suppose we should meet all our new allies then see about meeting up with Bye-bye again,” Heath said.

  “I suppose we should,” said Baby. “Oh, and Heath.”

  “Yeah, Baby?” Heath asked.

  “Good job,” she said, flying away to meet with the other players.

  “Yeah, it was, wasn’t it?” Heath said to himself, feeling good about what he’d done today. “Oh, you can’t always get what you want, but if you try sometimes, you just might find, you get what you need,” he sang softly, wishing he still had his guitar out to play along.

  Chapter 15

  I was in the graveyard . . . again.

  Congratulations! You’ve reached Level 12!

  +1 to bonus Holy Spells, +1 Intellect, +1 Charisma

  I checked through my notifications to see where I got so much experience. I had never gotten experience from killing a player under the effects of ‘Justice Bringer’ before so I was curious.

  You have killed Caster Caster Lvl 18 and claimed his current level progress and 5% of his gold. You have been awarded +167,549-Experience and 2-Gold, 3-Silver, 15-Copper

  Thinking back, I did indeed kill Caster Caster before using ‘Justice Bringer’. I could see the appeal in PvP so long as you won, and it was a fair fight. It was a lot of experience from just one kill, he must have been extremely close to leveling up. That said he didn’t carry much in the way of money. I should thank Caster if I ever saw him again. Unfortunately, I probably made an enemy of Caster today, especially if I just reset his experience bar to the beginning of level 17. He would probably be out for blood if he ever saw me again. Beyond that, I could only guess that the level announcement was withheld until I was out of combat or wasn’t as busy. I hoped it was the game becoming more intuitive about such things.

  “Jack, welcome back,” said Rose, offering me a hand.

  “You died?” I asked, taking the offered hand and letting her help me to my feet.

  “Yeah, at least I wasn’t too far into level 10, the lost experience doesn’t hurt as much,” Rose added. “Though it looks like you gained a level, congrats.”

  “Thanks,” I said, giving her hand a light squeeze. “I kind of one-shot a level 18 player.”

  “Wish I could have seen that,” said Rose. “Anyway, I don’t suppose you know why all these other players are popping up around us?”

  I suddenly realized we were surrounded by players, and more were appearing every second.

  “I might have started a PvP war,” I answered sheepishly.

  “Ooh, I’m so going to kill that guy . . . again,” a familiar voice complained.

  I looked to see Micaela popping up a few feet away.

  “What got you? That Ogre better be dead,” Rose said, heat creeping into her voice.

  “He is. It was actually that bloody Bearman. I swear we killed him,” Micaela complained.

  “My combat logs say we did,” said Rose, her eyes scanning something in the air in front of her and frowning in confusion. “Was someone else there to resurrect him, someone we missed?”

  “Don’t know, don’t care, I’m still going to kill him over and over again. He’s going to have nightmares about me,” Micaela ranted, then pouted, “And I was so close to leveling up.”

  “So, do we wait here for more players to respawn or do we just go back to town and try to help with the fight there?” Rose asked.

  “We should definitely head back, I have no idea what happened after I died but there were a lot of players on the Anvilton side, even with my ‘Justice Bringer’ spell, Hammerton was still outnumbered,” I said.

  “I have no idea what was happening in the courtyard, I was killed in the gatehouse,” Rose said.

  “Same here,” said Micaela.

  “Then we should get moving,” I said.

  Suddenly someone spun me around and took a firm grip on the front of my jerkin. “Hey, you were there? Why was I killed?” It was the player Olaf shot, Myst. He was Human, a head shorter than me with dark hair. He was also very young in appearance.

  “We thought you were with Anvilton. That player Caster Caster set you up,” I explained apologetically, prying the boy’s grip from my armor. Then I noticed there were several players looking at me for answers. And though I still don’t enjoy public speaking, especially addressing a crowd, I knew that’s what I needed to do. So, I spoke up. “Caster Caster used you. It was a trap to draw me out, to trick me into using my spell.”

  “What was that anyway?” another player asked, , her grey skin and pointy ears said she was a Dark Elf. She wore dark leather and had a pair of daggers at her waist, a Rogue or Thief if I were to guess, maybe an Assassin. “I got hit by a level 65 player, I should have been turned into paste. But I wasn’t. In fact, I was able to kill that same level 65 and then a level 53 before I finally bit it. So, what gives?”

  I mentally cursed. Pwn’s trap had another effect, one I was sure he didn’t plan for, but here it was anyway.

  “My class comes with a unique spell called ‘Justice Bringer’. When I use it, it scales the levels of everyone within range to an equal level,” I answered.

  “That is awesome,” said Myst. “But that still doesn’t explain why that guy on the wall blew my arm off. I was crushed by the other players that stormed in without my arm.”

  “Yeah, sorry for that. I am sure Olaf thought you were with Anvilton. He’s really a good guy, but that was him having my back more than anything else,” I explained lamely.

  Myst frowned. “Alright, accidents happen . . . I guess, but he owes me the experience my death cost me.”

  That was a fair statement.

  “He’ll help you get it back,” Micaela said. “Even if you need to kill him for it. I’ll even hold him down for you.”

  “Micaela, you and Olaf have the strangest foreplay,” Rose commented, earning a snicker from the crowd and blush from the Minotaur.

  “Wow,” shouted the voice of a newcomer, appearing in the graveyard. “Now that was an epic event! I can’t wait for the next one.” It was Bushy Bunny, the almost leader I had met briefly. “But first, I’m going to give the idiot that killed me a swift kick in the head,” she finished, punching a fist into her other hand.

  Okay, so, she wasn’t the timid bunny girl I thought she was when I first met her.

  As if realizing she had an audience, she suddenly hunched her shoulders and lowered her head in embarrassment. “Hey, everybody,” she stuttered out nervously.

  “Too late for that, Bushy,” said Micaela, cracking a smile. “I’m pretty sure we all know it’s an act. A brilliant act but still an act.”

  The bunny girl clicked her tongue then sighed. She straightened up, suddenly looking much more confident. I finally had a chance to really look at her. She was tall, taller than me with her ears, but the top of her head was just an inch or so taller than Rose. Her fur was a pale brown with white accents and framed her rather Human-looking face nicely. Her almond shaped eyes suggested she was of Asian descent and the purple coloring of them was a nice touch as they matched the buzzed purple hair on her head. The fact she was also studying me intently was an afterthought. “You in charge?” she asked, continuing to size me up.

  “Not exactly,” I said.

  “But you know what’s going on?” Bushy prompted me.

  “Mostly,” I said, starting to feel like I was a piece of meat on display in front of a carnivorous animal and not a timid bunny girl.

  “Good, invite me to your group. If you know what’s going on then you are probably the guy to f
ollow,” the bunny girl insisted. “I’m Bushy Bunny by the way, nice to meet you.”

  “Whoa, whoa, wait a minute, hold it right there,” said Rose, stepping between us. “Why should we invite you to our group?”

  “First, I’m awesome. Second, same as the first. Third, I’m a Monk,” Bushy answered as if that would explain everything.

  “Aw, but Bushy, I wanted to group with you,” Myst pouted.

  “Myst, you’re level 12, you’re a higher level than me, I’m only a level 9. You’ve gotten this far without me, I’m sure you’ll manage,” Bushy said, placing a hand upon the boy’s shoulder. He looked young, too young to be playing this game, but appearances were deceiving, just look at our own healer. Baby may look like a baby, but she was anything but.

  “Yeah, but you’re . . . you know . . . cool,” Myst said, a light blush on his cheeks.

  “You’re sweet, kid, but I’m way too old for you,” said the bunny girl.

  “I’m nineteen, I’m an adult you know,” Myst protested.

  “Yeah, I get it, I look young and sexy but I’m really in my forties. I know I acted all shy and timid when you met me but that’s an act. It tends to make people underestimate me. I’m really just a capital B, if you catch my drift,” Bushy laid it on thick. “Now, why not go find that girl, what’s her name? Robin, she seemed like a real sweetheart. Plus, I might have caught her looking your way a time or two.”

  “Really?” Myst asked, perking up, his crush easily forgotten. It seemed the boy was already moving on.

  “Oh, yeah, absolutely,” Bushy said, nodding along. “For now, why don’t you go form a group with some of the other players to fight your way back to town with? Good, now that is settled, tell everyone they have 10-minutes to form groups and then we’re moving out.”

  “Thanks, Bushy, you’re the best,” said Myst, quickly running to the nearest player in heavy armor that wasn’t Rose.

  “Ah, kids, so gullible. And I get to punish Robin for shooting me in the back of the head at the same time,” said Bushy, smirking happily. “By the way, the ‘B’ is for Bunny,” she added, snickering at her own joke.

  “Ooh, ooh, ooh!” Micaela shouted excitedly, her finger pointed right at Bushy, shaking with anticipation.

  “No!” Rose countered immediately, making me wonder just what conversation was happening that I wasn’t picking up on.

  Micaela deflated slight, then tried to protest, “But . . . but . . . she . . . he . . . it would be so perfect!”

  “No, they will never meet. And don’t even suggest such a thing out loud,” said Rose emphatically.

  “Who will never meet?” I asked, finding zero enjoyment in being out of the loop.

  “I think the cowgirl there has a boy she thinks might be a good fit for me,” said Bushy, resting an arm around my shoulders, invading my personal space and being way too familiar with me just like . . .

  “Oh, hell no!” I said, finally putting it together. Micaela wanted to play matchmaker with Heath and Bushy. It would be an absolute nightmare. I’ve barely known Bushy for five minutes and already she was getting under my skin, just like Heath did. I may have grown a tolerance to Heath’s antics . . . for the most part. But I don’t think my sanity could manage two of them.

  “Oh really?” Bushy asked, gripping my shoulders tighter. “Now I really am interested.”

  “Micaela, this is on you,” Rose said, pointing a finger at our friend before crossing her arms. She looked rather put out by the idea, not that I could blame her.

  “Oh, this is going to be so awesome,” Micaela cheered.

  “Rose, will you run away with me? Far, far . . . far away,” I asked, trying to slip out of Bushy’s vice-like grip around my shoulders but finding escape impossible.

  “Sure, but you’ll need to leave your new girlfriend there behind,” Rose said, now glaring at the woman that had attached herself to me.

  “Wait, no, hold it right there. She is most certainly not my girlfriend, you are. Bushy just won’t . . . let . . . go,” I explained while trying in vain to break free from the bunny girl.

  “Invite me to your group and I might,” Bushy whispered teasingly into my ear.

  The bright red coloring that overtook Rose’s face suggested pain was about to come my way . . . well, Bushy’s way but due to proximity some of that would be delivered to me as collateral damage.

  “Olaf is the group leader, only he can invite you, now let me go,” I explained pleadingly, trying to break her grip. What the hell kind of Rabbit was this? She was only level 9 and yet I couldn’t break out of her grip on me?

  “Then I will be staying right here, joined to your hip until we find him,” Bushy said, squeezing harder, my HP dropping a few points. “Oh, and you won’t break my grip. I’m a Monk.”

  Rose’s still red face suggested I was doomed any second now.

  “Look, I promise to ask Olaf to let you join our group, just let me go. If we need to fight, I can’t have you hanging off me like that,” I tried to reason with her.

  “Hmm, I don’t know. Maybe if your girlfriend also promises too, I mean that’s two promises, right? At least one of you will keep your promise, right?” Bushy asked, clearly taunting Rose. Except Rose didn’t even twitch.

  “Ooh, I’ll promise. I promise,” said Micaela excitedly.

  “You really should wean her off the caffeine and pixie sticks,” Bushy commented. “But I’m not worried about your promise, Mic . . . do mind if I call you Mic? Anyway, I’m worried about their word, the solemn vow of Rose and Bye-bye here.”

  “You can call me Mic if you want,” offered Micaela. “And why do you want their word?”

  Bushy just sighed. “Call it a test.”

  “Oh, like to see if you can trust them or if you should find another group. That makes sense, carry on,” said Micaela, smiling happily.

  “I can’t tell if she’s a genius or an idiot,” said Bushy, suddenly releasing me. “I suppose the jig is up. Either you’ll prove trustworthy or you won’t.”

  I quickly moved away from Bushy and to Rose’s side, where I would hopefully be out of the path of destruction. I was more surprised when Rose grasped my hand and didn’t try to pulverize Bushy.

  “Girlfriend?” Rose questioned quietly.

  “Well . . . yeah . . . I mean, if you want,” I said, feeling some warmth in my own cheeks. It was only then I realized what I blurted out. And while I wanted it to be true, we hadn’t really made anything official or even discussed it for that matter.

  “Alright, I suppose,” said Rose, squeezing my hand a little tighter, a gesture I reciprocated.

  No longer distracted by the short moment, Rose reproached Bushy’s statement. “Since when do we need to prove we are trustworthy to you?”

  “Since he nearly got us all killed,” Bushy answered, pointing directly at me. “Besides, I’m a Monk, of course I’m trustworthy . . . and awesome.”

  I rolled my eyes. “That’s the third time you’ve made a point of telling us you were a Monk, why is that?” I asked. “What makes being a Monk so special that we should trust you?”

  “Cause I’m awesome, duh,” Bushy responded.

  “Yeah, duh,” Micaela echoed, sticking her tongue out at me teasingly.

  “Look, you’re the one trying to force your way into our group, we deserve to know why and why we should trust you?” Rose said, her patience finally at an end, not that mine was far behind. This woman might have been even more frustrating than Heath if that was even possible.

  “You mean, you don’t know?” Bushy asked.

  “Know what?” I asked.

  “About Monks,” Bushy answered.

  “Obviously we don’t,” I stated, grinding my teeth.

  “Alright, relax, relax, you’re going to give yourself an aneurysm or something,” Bushy said, waving placatingly at us.

  “Just talk,” said Rose.

  “Fine, a Monk is a Priest . . . and a Warrior. I am a sworn servant to the Bodhidhar
ma,” Bushy answered.

  Did I just hear that right? I started to ask, “You’re-”

  “Awesome, I know, right?” Bushy replied, grinning.

  “Ooh,” Micaela squealed excitedly again.

  “Now what?” I asked, letting her distract me from the fact that this girl just claimed she was a Warrior Priest here, this one a servant of Bodhidharma, and I had no idea who that was. It sounded like the Bodhisattva or the Buddha. Was it an offshoot? Like the Goddess Issara was a new Goddess created by the Goddess Ishtar to hold divinity over justice for the Babylonian pantheon?

  “I’ll explain later, Jack,” said Rose. “Focus on the problem at hand. What do you plan to do about her?”

  “I have no idea what to do about her,” I answered. “I don’t even know why she is here or why I need to deal with her at all?”

  Rose quirked an eyebrow at me. I felt like it was a warning.

  “Fine,” I said to Rose. I looked back at Bushy, “Why have you come to the province?”

  “Um, cause the flyer said come fight for truth, justice and a bunch of other crap,” Bushy answered.

  “You’re not very Monk-like,” I said, feeling my eyes narrow. Maybe I was being petty, but I felt like her arrival here was an insult, as if one of the Gods was saying I wasn’t good enough.

  “Shaolin baby,” Bushy crowed as if it would explain everything. We must have still looked confused because she added, “Drunken Martial Arts for the win.”

  It still didn’t explain much, but I could put some of the pieces together. My history was a little fuzzy on Shaolin Monks, and China was not my area of expertise when I studied archeology and history in college. What little I did remember, went something like this. Around 400 or 500 A.D., Buddhism migrated from India to China. At some point, the Buddhist Monks began practicing Yoga as a form of meditation. After bandit attacks and many dead Monks, they transformed the Yoga into Kung Fu. The Monk that was responsible for that was most likely the Bodhidharma, Bushy said she served. As for him being a God in the World Tree, I would bet it was something to do with transcendentalism, literally meditating until you become one with everything. A way of saying you have ascended beyond humanity and left your fleshly vessel behind, in a sense, becoming a God. It was also rumored that the Shaolin Monks were one of the few that were granted the privilege of drinking alcohol by one of the emperors, which spawned the legend of the drunken martial arts’ origin. Lots of supposition but very little fact to back it up, but for creating Lore in a game . . . it was . . . intriguing . . . I suppose.