Rise of the Grandmaster

by Bradford Bates

  His entire body ached, and he hadn’t even been hit. He could feel every bump and bruise, now that the action was over. Did soldiers always feel this way after a battle? It was a marvel they could fight for weeks or months at a stretch. He’d been in one little scrap, and he wanted to sleep for a week. Lying on his back, he looked at the gangway and saw Lady Briarthorn step onto the deck.

  She spotted him and hurried in his direction. “Are you injured?”

  Tim felt better at hearing the concern in her voice. He was happy to see that her eyes held the same compassion. “Just a little banged up. I’ll be fine.” Tim climbed to his feet, almost falling back down as the boat shifted gently against the dock.

  Lady Briarthorn clapped her hands with joy as she beamed at him. “It seems as though everything is in order. I’ll have my men take care of the thugs below.” She turned away, heading toward the captain’s cabin. “Stop by my house tomorrow. I’ll have your pay and another job for you.”

  “I’ll see you then.” Tim sheathed his daggers and headed for the front of the boat. At least this time, he’d get to use the ramp.

  Reginald was waiting on the dock with a few armed men. He eyed Tim as he made his way down the gangplank and waved him over. “You did good work here today. May the Goddess’ light shine upon you.”

  “And on you,” Tim intoned as he turned away. For now, his job was over. It was time to go home. There’d be time to think about what he’d done later, but right now, he really wanted the drink he’d been promised upon his triumphant return.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  The Blue Dagger Inn was a sight for sore eyes.

  “Or in my case, sore-fucking-everything,” Tim grumbled as he trudged down the muddy street. Rain had started to fall, but at least he had a cloak now, making the near-constant rain almost bearable.

  Sometimes you had to find fulfillment in the small things in life. How happy you were was a matter of perspective. He’d seen plenty of six- or seven-person families crammed into two-bedroom homes or apartments. Some of them were happy, not because they had the finer things in life, but because they knew what mattered most.

  Family.

  Tim was doing this so he could boost his entire family’s future prospects. So all of them could benefit from how much his parents had sacrificed to get him here. He didn’t want his brother and sister to be happy sharing a room; he wanted to give them the world. For now, he’d have to settle for getting them into a better school district. The rest would come with time, and only if his brother and sister wanted to put in the effort.

  If there was ever a lesson people needed to be taught, it was that nothing was ever handed to them. If a person wanted something, they had to work tirelessly and relentlessly to get it. Sure, LeBron was born with natural gifts; he was big, freakishly fast, and he came with the mad jumps add-on, but he also worked tirelessly at his craft. Each meal, each workout, every decision he made was about what was best for him as a basketball player, followed by what was best for him as a person.

  As a superstar, he’d practiced just as hard and with as much determination as he had in high school, but his focus gradually shifted to his kids and his business. What he did was find a way to create balance by taking everything head-on. He wanted to spend more time with the family, so he had to examine his routine and find the time.

  Tim remembered watching Shannon Sharp getting inducted into the National Football Hall of Fame, and finally realizing what these men sacrificed on a personal level to achieve greatness in their craft. In his speech, Shannon had said something like, “I woke up every day knowing someone was trying to take my job, and it pushed me to greatness.” Then he apologized to his family for not being there and for always putting football first.

  It was heartbreaking, but it was also heartwarming. The people watching could see how much they meant to him, and there wasn’t a dry eye in the house. That speech about his relentless dedication in the pursuit of greatness had inspired Tim. It was why he said no to the gangs destroying their neighborhood, and why he had gotten straight As in school. If a person wanted something, they had to earn it.

  He just had to apply the same focus to his time in the game. The things he could build here would provide a life for him and his family. It would give them the chance to succeed or fail based solely on their effort instead of their environment. If people were given a chance and a dollop of encouragement, Tim was sure that most of them would rise to the occasion.

  But not all of them.

  Some people would turn out like Martin. He wondered if Juan Pablo had tracked the sneaky little fucker down yet. Maybe he’d get lucky and Lady Briarthorn’s men would cut him down, saving Tim the trouble of doing it himself.

  Tim stepped onto the wooden planks of the inn’s small porch. He tried to wipe the mud off his boots before opening the door, but he wasn’t very successful. His fingers brushed the handle as he received an in-game message.

  ShadowLily has sent you a message.

  He was going to have to change his message settings. Sure, he had them suppressed in combat, but having a message pop into his field of vision when he wasn’t fighting seemed crazy. Not to mention, who the fuck was ShadowLily?

  Sierra.

  He’d only used her in-game name once, and when he’d sent her the message earlier, he’d just done it from his friends list, which consisted of one person. Well, three, if you counted the people at the total immersion orientation. Tim hadn’t even glanced at the name, he’d just sent the message. It took a few minutes of playing with the setting, but eventually he moved his message notifications to appear with the rest at the bottom of his screen.

  It looked like there was a pile of information for him to review, but first, he had to find out what Sierra wanted. He took a deep breath and opened the message.

  Hey, I’m going to come check out your digs. I’ve never been to the slums. What were you thinking? See you in an hour.

  An hour.

  An hour was enough time to get ready for class, but not enough for the first time you’d seen your “I can’t believe she picked me” girlfriend in days. Not when there was dried blood under your nails and all over your clothes. Fuck, he had to hurry.

  Tim fired off a quick reply. I can’t wait. I’ll tell Ernie you’re coming.

  He opened the door, stepped inside, and closed it behind him. Gaston and his crew at their table cheered. Tim smiled at the men as Gaston rose from his seat, poured a glass of beer, and walked it over to Tim.

  “You did well tonight,” Gaston rumbled, thrusting the stein at Tim.

  How would he know?

  Tim pointed an accusatory finger in Gaston’s face. “You were watching.”

  “I can’t have my star pupil getting killed on his first mission, now can I?” He looked at the men at the table and leaned closer to Tim, whispering, “Wouldn’t do much for my rep with the boys.” He gave Tim a hearty wink before slapping him on the back and laughing.

  Tim gazed at the man, feeling better about the night than he had moments before. “Speaking of the boys, I need you guys to be on your best behavior. I have a guest coming.”

  Ernie peered over the counter at them. “I won’t have any of that in my establishment. You want to hire a lady of the night, you go to a brothel like the rest of Promethia.”

  “I dare you to call her a lady of the night when she gets here.” Tim laughed at the men’s flabbergasted expressions. “Guys, I swear she’s just a friend of mine.”

  “But it’s a lady friend,” Gaston chided.

  “We don’t see too many of those around here.” Ernie took a comb from his pocket and set to work straightening the tangled mess on the sides of his head.

  Tim smiled at the two men’s antics. “Don’t get any ideas.” He met Ernie’s eyes. “So, who do I have to kill to get a bath and some fucking toilet paper?”

  Gaston elbowed Ernie in the ribs as he came around the corner. “I told you he’d figure it out eventually.”
/>   “Figure what out?” Tim pressed.

  Ernie swatted Gaston on the arm with a dishtowel. “See, he doesn’t know a thing.”

  “Come on, Ernie, take pity on the kid. He’s got a girl coming over.” Gaston placed a hand on Ernie’s shoulder. “Maybe it’s time you give him the key.”

  “No, I couldn’t,” Ernie whined.

  “It’s time.” Gaston chuckled.

  Ernie still looked conflicted, but he reached into his vest and pulled out a silver key. “No one else lays a hand on this, not even your lady friend.”

  Tim took the key, wondering what the fuck was so special about it. How great could a secret bathroom in this dump be? “I promise,” Tim stated flatly as he took the key from Ernie’s hand.

  “Follow me.” The innkeeper started walking down the hall.

  Tim stopped and extended his hand to Gaston. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

  “I know.” The burly assassin grinned at him. “You forgot about the man in the crow’s nest, but I got him for you.” He whispered, “Just don’t tell Ernie, ok?”

  “Your secret’s safe with me, sensei.” Tim beamed at the assassin, happy to be alive.

  “It’s nice to have such a receptive student after all these years.” Gaston started heading back toward his table.

  It came to Tim in a flash. “You know, my friend ShadowLily might benefit from your extensive knowledge. You should show her what’s behind the red door.”

  “Do you think she’d appreciate it?” Gaston asked with a sparkle in his eyes.

  “More than I did.” Tim laughed. “Just don’t make her face the murderball.”

  “Murderball.” Gaston held up a finger as he contemplated the name. “I like that.”

  Tim left the assassin behind as he followed an impatient Ernie deeper into the inn. They made a few turns, and Tim realized the inn was much bigger than he’d thought. It was easily big enough for hundreds of guests. For some reason, he was the only one.

  Must be the rain.

  It also ensured he was the only person with a quest to find out what was happening at the inn. Obviously, this was a wicked den of thievery, but that wouldn’t be enough to generate a quest. There was something else going on. Maybe seeing what was in this locked room would bring him a step closer to finding out the truth.

  Ernie stopped in front of a solid-iron door and took a key out of his vest pocket. He placed the key in the lock, and gave it a hearty turn. The door opened a few seconds later, and Ernie led him inside.

  The floor was tiled, something he hadn’t seen anywhere else. In one corner was a bench with a hole in the middle of it, and next to it was a roll of the cushy white stuff.

  “Ernie, you’ve been holding out on me.” He patted the man on the back as he stepped into the room.

  The innkeeper walked in and headed to a device by the tub. He sparked something, and a small fire started. “Give it about ten minutes, and this should give you all the hot water you need for a proper bath.”

  Ernie headed for the door. “The Goddess knows you stink bad enough to need one.”

  “So my swim in the ocean didn’t help.”

  “It might have if you hadn’t gone swimming in blood right after,” Ernie snapped as he closed the door behind him.

  The man really didn’t want to share his bathroom.

  Tim looked around the room again and understood why. It took him a few seconds to un-equip his clothes. Knowing that they would come out of his inventory spotless was a good feeling. Freer now that he was nude, Tim made quick use of his new toilet. As he sat down, Tim swore he heard running water below him. Who cared? The toilet paper and bath were gifts from the Goddess.

  The bath was calling him now. First, he needed to scrub the muck off, then he’d fill another tub and get clean. He got the water temp just right and climbed in. Dirt and blood made the water disgusting almost instantly. That was one thing he hated about baths—he always felt like he had to take a shower before and after.

  What was the fucking point?

  Since he didn’t have the luxury of a shower, Tim was determined to take his bath in the shortest time possible. He didn’t want to leave ShadowLily alone with Gaston for too long. He might come back to the common room and see them throwing daggers at apples on top of each other’s heads.

  The water was a rusty-brown color. Tim hopped out of the tub and drained it. He refilled the tub with extra hot water and found a bar of soap, and this time he washed himself. The water turned a little dirty as he got the last of the filth off, but he felt relatively clean. To make sure, he emptied the tub and repeated the process one more time.

  “Ok, maybe this isn’t so bad.” Plus, it gave him the time to read the rest of his notifications.

  Skill received: Back Stab

  Rank: Novice rank seven

  You are now five percent more effective when stabbing someone in the back. I’m not sure what that says about you as a person, but as an assassin, it seems like a good thing.

  Tim chuckled. He wondered if there was someone writing these as events unfolded. The jokes seemed so tailored for him that it was hard to imagine them coming out of a database. He leaned back in the tub, letting the hot water pull all the tension out of his muscles as he continued reading.

  Skill Increase: Night Vision

  Rank: Novice rank five

  It is now five percent easier for you to see in low-light conditions.

  Skill Increase: Sneak

  Rank: Apprentice rank three

  Bonus: Your ability to hide in the shadows has increased by thirteen percent, and when you are unmoving, a character must pass a perception check to see you.

  Skill Increase: Throwing Knives

  Rank: Apprentice rank two

  You almost missed your first throw completely, and your second wasn’t much better. Still, you managed to hit the target twice, so congratulations.

  Bonus: Your knives are eleven percent more accurate when thrown at a distance under twenty feet and do six percent more damage.

  Not bad for a night’s work.

  Tim was feeling pretty good about himself. He wondered if this was how other players felt after going out and hunting orcs and goblins all day. He was still questioning the developers’ choice to make characters killable by NPCs and vice versa, although it added a sense of realism to the game.

  Danger around every corner. Learn more on The Etheric Coast News Channel at five.

  Tim pulled up his last notification. He’d have just enough time to dry off and get downstairs to meet ShadowLily. The last thing he wanted was for her to show up early and be stuck down there alone with those salty bastards. Who knew what kind of tricks thieves got up to when they were trying to impress a woman?

  Skill Increase: Small Blades

  Rank: Apprentice rank five

  Bonus: Bladed weapons under eighteen inches long do ten percent more damage. The dexterity requirement for small bladed weapons has been reduced by a factor of three.

  If he kept this up, he might be able to level these skills pretty far and use decent weapons, even if he focused on healing and willpower. Tonight had gone better than expected, and his share of the loot should be a tidy sum. He wouldn’t find out how much he made until he met tomorrow with Lady Briarthorn, but it had to be enough to get his fledgling healing clinic off the ground.

  Who knew, he might even get lucky and have enough coin to indulge in one of his side projects to make the slums a better place to live. A few small upgrades would make this side of town at least bearable, and whatever he accomplished now would pave the way for larger upgrades in the future.

  Plus, once he got started building the community back up, he was sure more people would want to contribute.

  Maybe setting his plan in motion would be enough for Ernie to start trusting him. Tim had already won over Gaston, and frankly, he’d thought the assassin was going to be the harder job. He didn’t know what they were hiding here, but he was determined to
find out. He had a quest to complete, after all.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  “You have the most interesting friends,” Sierra squealed as she dodged a blade thrown by Gaston.

  Before Tim could scream at them to stop, ShadowLily tossed a knife at the assassin. At the last second, he plucked the blade from the air and fired it back so it planted itself in the boards at ShadowLily’s feet.

  “You’re already getting better,” Gaston roared with approval.

  “Helps to have a great teacher.” ShadowLily beamed at the burly assassin, her face flushed with excitement.

  “At least tell me you weren’t trying to skewer my lady?” Tim asked, taking a beer from Gaston’s outstretched hand.

  “Maybe just a little.” He held up his fingers about an inch apart. “But what’s a little skewering between friends?” Gaston winked at him.

  “Look at where my next knife is aimed, and you’ll know how much skewering you can expect from me in your future.” ShadowLily pointed her knife toward Gaston’s crotch, then made a grabbing gesture and a sawing motion.

  Gaston couldn’t keep the cringe from his face as he whispered to Tim, “If my mouth ever runs away from me, do me the courtesy of reminding me not to fuck with her.”

  “She already made that point.” Tim slapped Gaston’s back as he sprayed beer through his nose with laughter.

  Ernie ran out with a mop. “You know, the beer is supposed to go in your mouth and down your throat, not in your mouth and all over the fucking floor.”

  “Speaking of beer.” Gaston held up an empty pitcher.

  “Go fuck yourself,” Ernie snarled and stormed back into the kitchen.

  ShadowLily looked at Tim and mouthed, “What’s got his panties in a bunch?”

  Tim shrugged and turned to Gaston. “What’s up with Ernie? He seems more snarly than usual.”

  One of Gaston’s crew got up, took a few pitchers with him, and headed into the kitchen. It appeared their night wasn’t over yet. ShadowLily sat down at the table and took one of the mugs. Tim and Gaston took the seats on either side of her.