by M E Robinson
Looks like we might survive this after all, Eric thought as he forced one of Turk’s opponents to start fighting him. His sword flashing as he used his crude swordsmanship to force the goblin onto the backfoot. Pressing forward, he used Guard to block another strike, raising his sword high, he brought his sword down, landing the finishing blow as a loud shriek filled the air.
“Gyaaaaaah!”
Looking around frantically, Eric’s eyes widened as he saw the source of the scream. Her feet dangling almost a foot off the ground, Aria was currently skewered on the end of a large saber, doing her best impression of a kebab. As Eric and Turk watched, her healthbar drained to zero, her staff falling to the ground below.
[Quest Modified: Goblin Encampment]
Kill the hobgoblin before he can bring back news of your presence to the camp.
With a grunt, the owner of the saber tossed Aria’s body aside, looking at the remaining fighters with a sadistic glint in his eyes. The newcomer was roughly six and a half feet tall, with dull grey skin. His appearance was similar to that of the goblins, in the same way that a wasp’s appearance was similar to a bee. Where the regular goblins were small, with skinny arms and legs, and giant heads in comparison to their small bodies, this figure was stacked like a football linebacker, with bulging muscles peeking out from underneath burnished metal armour. His face was set in a sadistic grin, with sharpened fangs visible behind his pale lips.
“So you’re the rats who’ve been slaughtering my patrols. I’m going to have fun dispatching you,” the figure uttered, his voice a guttural growl devoid of warmth. Eric felt a shiver go down his spine upon hearing it. This was a monster far beyond the level their party could handle, especially with Aria already dead. Tearing his eyes away from her broken body, Eric watched as the hobgoblin raised its saber, dashing towards Turk. The other two goblins had backed off, their eyes shining with a mixture of fear and respect for the new arrival.
Raising his shield high, Turk prepared to meet the hobgoblin’s charge head on. With a loud roar, the hobgoblin brought its saber down upon Turk’s shield. With a horrified look, Eric watched as the saber tore through the shield like driftwood, slicing deeply into Turk’s body below. With a sigh, Turk fell to his knees, his healthbar finally depleted.
With an annoyed look on his face, the hobgoblin yanked his blade from Turk’s lifeless body, allowing the fighter’s corpse to collapse face first into the forest floor.
“That was rather unsatisfying, I trust that you will put up a better fight,” said the hobgoblin to Eric, its guttural voice seeming to tear at the air as if even nature itself could not stand it. With a small gulp, Eric raised his sword, attempting to prepare a spell as he backpedaled away from the monster.
“No magic,” growled the hobgoblin, covering the distance between the two in what felt like an instant. Raising his blade high, Eric received the hobgoblin’s slash with his sword, his knees buckling as he did so. Collapsing to one knee, he threw himself to the side, allowing the hobgoblin’s saber to slam into the forest floor where he’d been kneeling only a second ago.
Regaining his feet, Eric was alarmed to see a warning flash in front of his vision.
[Caution: Durability of Iron Sword decreased by 32%! Continued use of Iron Sword could result in it breaking]
Okay, so we’re not blocking this guy’s attacks, Eric thought, wracking his brain to come up with a way to deal with the foe in front of him. Despite all signs pointing to the contrary, Eric refused to simply give up and die. There had to be a way to defeat this monster.
Unfortunately, the hobgoblin refused to give Eric the room to kite and use his magic or archery skills. Every time Eric attempted to put distance between the two, the hobgoblin would charge forward like a freight train, its saber chopping through the air like a fishwive’s cleaver, intent on decapitating the irritating insect dancing in front of it. Each time, Eric barely managed to dodge, his ungainly rolls and tumbles buying him precious time to breathe. As long as he didn’t attempt to increase the distance to the point where he could get off a spell or fire an arrow, the hobgoblin was content to walk slowly towards him, a playful smile mocking the half-elf’s situation etched upon its monstrous visage.
Without the ability to increase the distance separating them, Eric could only fight the hobgoblin at close range. Gritting his teeth, he raised his sword, activating Dashing Cut to close the distance between the two. Raising its saber slightly, the hobgoblin met his charge with a lazy block, shaking his saber slightly to throw Eric backwards. Before the half-elf could fully recover, the hobgoblin’s saber was raised, descending towards him like a meteor.
Sliding to the side, Eric avoided the chop by the barest of margins, strands of his hair floating to the ground below. Not missing his chance, Eric rotated, slamming his fist into the hobgoblin’s side. Wincing, Eric withdrew his fist, throwing himself backwards to avoid the hobgoblin’s follow up swipe. His left knuckles had burst open, blood streaming down his arm from where his fist had made contact with the hobgoblin’s plate armour.
Ducking beneath another slash, Eric thrust his sword towards a chink in the armour. As the sword made contact, digging lightly into the hobgoblin’s side, the hobgoblin grinned, letting go of his saber and grasping Eric tightly with both arms. Struggling, Eric attempted to break free, but the hobgoblin was far too strong. Lifting the half-elf above his head, he threw him violently to the ground where he rolled briefly before coming to a stop, a stunned status preventing him from moving.
Picking up his saber, the hobgoblin walked slowly towards the still form of the half-elf. Lifting his saber high, the hobgoblin grinned, the sharp fangs in his mouth creating a needlelike forest which moved as he spoke, “Goodbye, little rat. Tell your gods that Grimarok sends his regards.”
With one last flash of light, the saber descended.
Chapter 10
Opening his eyes, Eric was greeted by the sight of gently rolling fields of wildflowers. A few sakura trees provided shade, giving the plains a scenic look. The colourful array of flowers that covered the plains rippled gently in the wind that caressed his face and sent waves spreading across a nearby pond. It truly was a beautiful and refreshing place, Eric thought, tilting his head to receive the sun’s rays.
“I know, right? I love this place,” a wistful voice said from behind him. Whirling around, Eric reached for his weapons only to find that they had disappeared.
“There’s no weapons in Elysium, silly,” Eleanor giggled, hovering just above his head.
Rolling his eyes at the fairy, Eric relaxed, returning to taking in the view, laying back in the soft grass and closing his eyes to savour the warm sun upon his heavy eyelids. After a few moments of this he spoke up, “So this is Elysium then? The legendary Greek underworld where the blessed go?”
Eleanor smiled, “Yup! That’s what I’m told anyways. This place was designed to allow players to calm down after a death. Death is traumatic, especially in a world as immersive as Fate. In order to prevent players from dwelling on it, the developers implemented a number of systems that take away the sting of death. Elysium is one of the more obvious ones.”
Eric nodded. Now that he thought about it, he had just died hadn’t he? And yet the sight of these gently rolling fields and the calmness of nature had taken his mind off the matter almost instantly.
“Elysium, eh? It’s a good name,” Eric said appreciatively.
Eleanor grinned. “I spend a lot of time here. You really suck as an owner you know.”
“Wait, what? Why do I suck?” Eric asked, raising an eyebrow at the tiny fairy who pouted and turned her back at him in response.
“Most players get to meet their fairies fairly often. They die, or they ask for help, or they vent about the difficulty level. But you’ve never summoned me once! And this is your first death since you started. I haven’t seen you since the tutorial!” Eleanor complained, puffing out her cheeks cutely as she did so.
Suppressing the urge to giggle
at Eleanor’s cute expression, Eric forced an apologetic look upon his face. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be so good at the game that I never got to see you. That was my bad.”
Hearing this, Eleanor’s gaze softened slightly. “Well. It’s true that I’m glad you’ve been doing well. It lets me brag when I encounter other fairies. But you could at least summon me more often! Most of the other fairies talk to their owners a few times a day you know.”
With a perplexed look on his face, Eric stared at the fairy. “I can summon you?”
“Yes? You didn’t know that?”
Shaking his head, Eric looked at Eleanor with a mute expression. Cocking her head to the side, she looked at him strangely. “Didn’t you read about the systems in Fate when you were setting up the FateGear? There should have been a page about being able to summon me that you acknowledged. Right before the confirmation that you wanted to keep the gore settings on. Right after the terms of service agreement.”
Eric briefly had a vision of rapidly clicking through page after page of notifications as he was setting up the Fate preinstallation. Shaking his head quickly to escape the flashback, he laughed nervously, “Oh right, there was that. I remember now.”
Eleanor gave him a hard look as Eric wilted into the surrounding flowers, attempting to truly become one with nature.
“I suppose I could use a refresher though,” he conceded, earning him a weary sigh from the fairy.
“You can summon me at any time by saying, ‘Eleanor you’re my only hope. Please assist this poor soul!’” she remonstrated.
Eric gave the fairy a hard look back. “Are you sure that’s the right phrase?”
“Of course. All players have a similar phrase,” Eleanor informed him primly.
“So what can I ask you for help with?” Eric asked, changing the subject.
Eleanor smiled at this, clearly pleased that he was taking the initiative to ask for her advice. “Well mostly you can summon me to ask about various game systems in Fate. I don’t have the authorization to tell you about some systems, but for stuff such as interacting with NPC’s, the direction you should take if you’re lost, or information on the surrounding area, I’m your girl!”
“What about how skills work?”
“Nope, I don’t have authorization for that.”
“Leveling?”
“I don’t have the authorization for that either.”
“Hidden quests? Spellcasting?”
“No to both of those too…”
“Monster information?”
“I can tell you about that!” said Eleanor, perking up as she looked at him.
“Like their stats, weak points, and fighting styles?” Eric asked.
Hearing this, Eleanor deflated again, her head drooping as she responded with a miserable expression, “No. I can’t tell you about that…”
Feeling a little guilty as he looked at the depressed fairy, Eric had a sudden idea. “Well as long as you can keep me company, I suppose that’s fine. I’ve always wanted to have someone as reliable as Eleanor to count on.”
Brightening up, Eleanor looked at Eric. “I can do that!”
Eric laughed, extending his hand towards the fairy. “Alright then, I’ll be counting on you from now on then.”
“It’s a deal!” Eleanor replied, shaking his pinky finger happily.
“So, how does this place work? How long do I have to stay in Elysium for before I can return to Nasvienna or whatever it’s called?” he asked the fairy.
“Nasvencia,” she corrected him. Then she thought for a moment, “You can return to Nasvencia after half an hour has passed. However, you have the option to set Elysium’s time dilation to normal if you desire. This allows you to only wait for just over five minutes to return.”
Eric nodded. “Makes sense. Do I have to stay in Elysium? Or can I return to the FateGear lobby and check on stuff while I wait.”
“You’re free to return to the lobby. You actually have a Strife message awaiting you now. It arrived only a couple minutes ago,” Eleanor informed him.
“Do I leave the same way I do normally? Just using my logout phrase?” Eric asked.
“Yup!”
“Alright then, I’ll be leaving then. I’ll call you in game soon though,” Eric promised the fairy. With a beautiful smile, Eleanor bade him goodbye as he raised his arm and logged out, leaving behind the beautiful fields of Elysium.
Opening his eyes, Eric was greeted by the familiar view of the ocean, surging against the wind as it crashed over the rocky beach outside. Sitting up from the couch, a flash of movement drew his attention to the wall where the entrance to Fate was. Looking over, Eric was surprised to see that a new timer had appeared within the softly glowing runes. As he watched, the timer ticked down from four minutes to three minutes and fifty-nine seconds.
An enormous lock behind the timer gave hints to its purpose. Walking over, Eric extended his arm towards the portal experimentally. Roughly an inch away from the portal, his hand was repelled as if by an invisible force field.
“You cannot re-enter Fate until your death penalty is over,” Eleanor’s voice rang out. Eric nodded. As expected, it was a countdown to the end of his death penalty. Thankfully, four minutes was plenty of time for him to get everything done.
Turning away from the wall, Eric summoned the Strife interface. Sure enough, there was a message waiting for him from Mark just like Eleanor had said. Opening the message Eric began to read.
Mark
Oh right
Griffin wanted me to tell you to respond to this whether or not you missed it. I’ll log out to double check after we arrive in Tonbura.
Typing a quick reply to Mark, Eric closed the Strife client and stretched. Checking the timer, he saw that he had just enough time to log out and grab a drink. Exiting the FateGear, he quickly set to it, chugging some chocolate milk, devouring a few cookies, and petting the cat which was sprawled lazily in a sunbeam on the table. Bounding back upstairs, Eric re-entered the FateGear lobby where the timer was almost done counting down. Impatiently, he watched as the last few seconds passed, the lock opening and fading away as the game became playable once more.
Entering the portal, Eric found himself in the middle of Tonbura village once more. Before he could even move, a system message popped into existence in front of him.
[You have been slain by: Hobgoblin]
[You have died. Death count: 1]
[Quest Failed: Goblin Encampment]
The Hobgoblin has slain your entire party. As a result, the goblins are now aware that you know of the existence of their base. Reinforcements are now surely inbound to the goblin encampment. Report the news of the goblin encampment and the presence of the hobgoblin to Captain Alistair.
[As you have not unlocked the Warehouse system yet, the penalty for dying has been reduced. All money and equipment has been kept. Half of your remaining items have been left with your corpse. These can be looted for the next twelve hours by any player or NPC. Please keep in mind that the penalty for dying after initiating a PvP action is more severe even without the Warehouse feature.]
Seeing this final notification, Eric quickly opened his inventory. Thankfully, his silver and copper were all still there, as was all of his equipment, including his weapons and armour, but the quiver of stone arrows had disappeared as had many of the drops he’d received from the goblins that he’d slain along with Aria and Turk. Speaking of Aria and Turk, what happened to them? Eric wondered, searching the square for their faces. He remembered the two mentioning a town, Vinbur or something like that. Maybe they respawned there rather than at Tonbura? Eri
c wondered, failing to find their faces among the players and villagers passing through the square.
Re-equipping his armour, Eric slid the shortsword back into the sheath at his waist. Feeling much more confident now that he was once more properly armed, even if both his sword and armour were in dire need of repairs, Eric set off towards the militia barracks.
Arriving in front of Alistair’s office, Eric knocked loudly.
“Who is it?” a grumpy voice rang out.
“Corporal Kystfyr. I have a report about a hobgoblin in Lichfrost Forest,” Eric replied.
“Enter.”
Opening the door, Eric entered the office. Alistair was seated across from the door as usual; however, the number of papers and scroll spread across the table had nearly doubled, the once orderly surface now a jumble of parchment and ink.
Motioning him forward, Alistair gestured for him to sit down. Taking the hint, Eric quickly shut the door and took a seat, looking closely at the militia captain. The man seemed exhausted, huge bags under Alistair’s eyes showed his lack of sleep, and his hair was slick with accumulated grease.
“You said you wanted to report, Corporal?” said Alistair, his voice steady despite his obvious tiredness.
“Yes,” said Eric, throwing a salute towards the captain. Seeing this, Alistair rolled his eyes but offered no response, simply continuing to stare at the half-elf. Swallowing nervously, Eric began to recount the events that had led up to his death, tossing the loot he’d gained from hunting goblins upon the table as proof of his exploits.
“And then I was killed by the hobgoblin as well,” said Eric, finishing his recollection of the encounter.
Alistair frowned. “A hobgoblin, eh? Did it have any defining features? Any markings or tattoos?”