by Deck Davis
Hex Received: Orb Weaver Attraction
You aren’t pretty, you don’t smell good, you have the charisma of a dung beetle. And yet…orb weavers love you. When you are in the vicinity, orb weavers will ignore their foes and fight you, instead.
“Thanks, Boxe. Thanks a frigging bunch.”
You’re most welcome.
It was then that Tripp saw spider faces turn his way. He saw bulging eyes set on him, and his stomach turned to water, and he got the sense that he’d annoyed the wrong digital deity.
He turned to flee away from the Mountmend gates, guessing that the only safe place for him now was Konrad’s shop, or even inside Old Kimby.
He took only one step when a giant weight crashed onto him, pinning him to the ground.
A hairy limb brushed his face, and something screeched into his ear so loud that the sound bounced in his skull.
With one sudden explosion of pain, his hitpoints plummeted, and the sights and sounds dimmed around him until he only saw a lone notification box.
You have died. Ha.
CHAPTER 41
When we talked about penalties for dying, we got the same argument as always. Realism and grind, versus fun and accomplishment.
And consequences, too – no guessing that was Julie’s take on things.
Lucas wanted players to wake up in a goddamn coffin and have to punch their way out of it.
I said no way in hell to that. I know we have disclaimers for full immersion players, but can you imagine the trauma? There’s no fun in being invincible, but there’s no enjoyment in a relentless grind, either.
So, we settled on having a scale of penalties you suffered when you bit the big one. And who gets to decide the penalties?
Who do you think? The Big AI in the Sky.
- Eli Rathburger in an interview with ‘Game Lord’ magazine, when asked ‘Which crazy ideas might we not know about nearly made it into the game?’
~
Tripp woke up to a cosmic hangover, not from drinking way too much beer but instead from the knowledge that he’d angered the semi-sentient god of the world he was in.
Not only that, though. Another notification box appeared in front of him as he stood in the morning sunlight.
Label received: Chicken
I might not be able to stop you farming EXP, but I can stop you enjoying it. Not only will orb weavers be attracted to you, but now your player tag above your head will have a chicken icon, displaying your ‘bravery’ to other players. Also, for a laugh, I have added a random clucking sound effect that others will sometimes hear when you speak.
If you wish to remove this, then show some balls.
Great. Gaming the system wasn’t so much fun when the system resented being gamed.
Still, a chicken noise? Who cared? At least he’d leveled up.
Then again, he didn’t really want to be known as a chicken. It was lose-lose, really. If the Blood Wave was going to come every night, then he could either hide from the orb weavers and keep his unfortunate poultry status, or he could try to redeem himself by fighting.
But then, the orb weavers were going to be attracted to him, and he would die surer than a mouse charging a lion. Again and again. He’d have to think of something.
His newly earned chicken label wasn’t all, though. Checking his stats, he saw a change to his armor.
Steel armor legacy change
- Legacy increased from 13 to 16
- Armor lore added: ‘Although present in the battle of the first Blood Wave, Tripp conducted himself in the manner of a coward, though he would no doubt describe his actions as ‘clever.’ History may not view his conduct in such a way.
- Legacy detriment added: Armor protection reduced by 15% when fleeing from battle.
Not only had Boxe punished him with a chicken label, but he’d also added a disadvantage to his armor, meaning that Tripp would be vulnerable if he ever fled from a battle. He needed to do something about that.
First, he had a labyrinth to navigate, and that meant he needed to do some artificery.
Before that, he needed to know what kind of artificery to use. He needed information. How was he supposed to get through room two, and not only get through it but earn a silver or gold chest?
There was only one way to find out. First, he opened his messenger tab, where he saw his only three friends in the game listed; Warren, Jon, and Lizzy. He composed a message to Warren.
Where were you last night? Did you see what went down in Mountmend? Crazy! I’m heading into room two for reconnaissance. You don’t need to join me because I’m not going to try to solve it, just scope out what’s in there. Catch you later.
The streets of Mountmend were a mess, and it was a little surprising. Usually, after you’d killed NPCs and looted them their corpses would disappear, and whatever blood or guts had soiled the land vanished.
Not so now. It seemed that a feature of Blood Wave was that Boxe had decided players should be reminded about what had happened the night before. There were hacked-off spider limbs, splashes of multi-colored blood, wounded and torn spider husks, some red, others blue, others green.
Some dead spiders had a faint yellow line traced around them, and Tripp realized what that meant.
“Sweet. I might have died, but at least I get to loot the NPCs I fought.”
“Fought?” said Bee, raising a golden eyebrow.
“You know what I mean.”
He spent the next few minutes gathering the loot that had been left behind. He’d missed the loot auction for each of the creatures, which meant that he was left with the crappy stuff, but that didn’t matter.
Loot Received
Silver Key [Miscellaneous]
*Common*
A key that can open many locks. Finding them is the tricky part.
A ruined brooch
Vial of Trap Sight
Orb weaver flesh x8
Orb weaver limbs x64
126 gold coins
So, it wasn’t like killing a boss monster. He didn’t find any swords with cool names or shields with the rare tag next to them.
Still, when God gave you lemons, you sucked on them. And when an aggrieved AI god made everyone think you were a chicken, you had to show him that it didn’t bother you.
The brooch was broken, but he guessed that if he could fix it, then it’d have artificery slots on it and he could weave some essence into it.
The vial of trap sight was really something. When he drank it, it’d alert his senses and reveal hidden traps, and who knew? Maybe other stuff, too. For a guy who was committed to battling through a labyrinth, it was useful.
He inventoried the items and gold and then headed through Mountmend and toward Old Kimby. A few players saw the chicken icon above his head and jeered him, but he shrugged it off.
Growing up with a name like Tripp, he’d hardened himself to stuff like that back in the schoolyard, growing a thicker skin as kids used to say, “Hey Tripp…watch you don’t fall!” before sticking their feet out to catch his legs. It was funny the first time, but it wore thin after the fiftieth.
It was an unfortunate name but cool in a way. His Dad told him that he’d named him after his favorite character in a sci-fi series he’d loved growing up; Tripp Lazarus. Tripp liked it, and he was glad Dad had persuaded Mom to accept that as his name.
After passing through Konrad’s shop he went into the mountain and then through the first room of the labyrinth and into room two, where the door shut behind him, locking him in.
“You told Warren you aren’t going to solve the room,” said Bee.
“Right. Even if I see a solution, I’m still going to hedge my bets. The first solution that pops out is probably the easiest, which will mean a bronze chest.”
“But if you aren’t going to solve it, then there’s only one other way to get out.”
“The sweet release of death. I’m getting used to it. Death isn’t so bad when you get over the pain and the black, lifeless
void.”
He put on his boots of anchor. They were a snug fit, and they felt heavy. The first few steps he took made him feel like an astronaut walking on the moon, moving forward slowly, the boots clamping and then unclamping on the stone. He almost wished he had a flag so he could plant it in the room and claim it as his own.
“I’m gonna have to come up with my own quote when I complete the room. ‘One small step for an orc…’”
Soon, he faced the oval platform with the door across from him, and he saw the panels in the roof where he knew either rocks or fiends would fall from.
“Here we go,” he said.
“Be careful.”
“Being careful doesn’t really matter when my choice is death by a fiend or death by lava.”
He wasn’t sure what he was looking for yet. If there were three different ways of solving the room, that meant there were things hidden here that’d help him. Casting underlay hadn’t shown him anything, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t anything hidden, it just meant his skill was too low to display it.
The way he saw it, there must have been something around the platform itself, and maybe something underneath, something related to the way the platform tilted.
“We’ll start up top,” he said. “Take a close look at the walls.”
Bee floated over to the circular walls surrounding the room and floated around them inch by inch.
Meanwhile, Tripp studied the platform. It was divided into four segments by lines carved into the stone. He guessed that wasn’t just an aesthetic; it must have meant something.
The question was…what?
He cast underlay again on the off-chance it’d do something, but he didn’t find anything of note.
“Any luck?” he said.
“Nope,” said Bee.
“I’m going to have to see what’s underneath the platform then. Lucky me.”
Now it was time to test his faith in his artificery. Either he’d made the boots of anchor well enough for this to work, or he’d screwed up and his penalty would be a plummet into a churning chasm of lava.
Taking a deep breath, he walked onto the stone. This time, instead of heading over the middle he went right, adding his weight to the side of the platform.
It began to tilt. First an inch and then more, gathering momentum, sloping downwards and revealing the gap underneath it where he saw the pool of lava way down in the depths.
With a rush of relief, he found that although the platform tilted horizontally, he didn’t fall off. His boots clamped him to it as the platform swung all the way around, and now he was upside down, his boots stuck to the platform above and his head pointing straight down at the lava.
That was when he saw something.
On the wall which had been hidden below the platform, he saw a lever. A switch that he guessed he could pull, which would probably unlock the door above.
That was a bronze-level solution if he ever saw one.
He could feel the heat from the lava now. It was at least a hundred feet below him, but hot air wafted up and warmed his face. He cast underlay from his new position, but it didn’t reveal anything to him.
So, there was a solution beneath the platform, but it was way too easy. That made sense, though; he’d gotten the anchor boots crafting card from room one’s bronze crate. He guessed a bronze create would only offer items useful in a bronze solution.
Hmm. There didn’t seem to be anything else from this side of the platform, which meant that the answer was up top.
But wait! As he looked down into the chasm below him – or was it above him, given he was now upside down? – he saw something.
The walls of the chasm were made from the same orange-brown stone as above, but further down, closer to the lava, there was a discolored patch.
Everything is here for a reason.
That was his new labyrinth mantra after his talk with Konrad, and he wasn’t discounting anything from here on out.
He walked away from the platform and toward the walls, clamping one boot onto them and then another so that he was now standing horizontally, and he could walk down the walls and toward the lava below.
He headed for the discolored stone, feeling the pit warm up with every step, going from feeling like the hot breath of a whisper on his cheeks and then warmer until soon it felt like he was standing too close to a bonfire.
By the time he reached the discolored stone the heat was painful. Soulboxe’s muted pain settings dulled it a little but it was uncomfortable as hell – literally – and that wasn’t the worst thing.
His hitpoints were dropping!
He was so close to the swirling pool of fire that it was damaging him, and soon it was going to fry him.
Death by lava – what a way to go.
He wasn’t just going to leave, though. If he did, then he’d have well and truly earned the chicken icon Boxe had given him. Besides, something was here, he was sure of it.
As the heat blasted him and his hitpoints dropped, he got to work. Facing the discolored stone, he took out his pickaxe and started smashing it. Chunks flew off and fell into the lava, and bit by bit he carved into the stone.
By the time his arm ached so much he could hardly swing his pickaxe, and with his hitpoints fading by the second, he saw something hidden in the hole he had made. Sweet!
As his hitpoint bar teetered on the edge, he didn’t waste any time. He grabbed the item from the hole in the wall and put it in his inventory.
With that done the heat embraced him fully, blasting his hitpoints to zero and giving him a worryingly-familiar message.
CHAPTER 42
You have died…again.
You aren’t getting the hang of this ‘staying alive’ concept, are you? Here, have a penalty. You are now 20% more susceptible to heat and fire damage for 24 hours.
Damn it! In a labyrinth that had an unusual amount of lava, a heat damage penalty wasn’t the best thing to have. About as useless as a beekeeper being allergic to their venom.
The death notification disappeared and light flooded into his eyes, and he found himself back at the Mountmend gates.
Feeling excited, he opened his inventory and took out the object that he’d gotten from the hidden alcove.
Light Prism [Broken]
It was a prism, obviously. He didn’t need boosted mind points to know that. It was clear and its surfaces were polished, but aside from looking sharp enough at the tip to bludgeon something, he didn’t know what to do with it.
Maybe it’d be useful in a Soulboxe version of the Clue game– the murderer was the steel orc, with the light prism, in Mountmend.
Then again, he guessed that since he’d found it hidden in room two, then maybe it’d have something to do with solving it.
The problem now was that it was broken, and he guessed his artificer skill was going to be important in mending it, but how? And was this a silver solution or a gold?
As he walked through Mountmend, more players shouted at him. Mostly unoriginal stuff centered on various chicken puns, with his favorite coming from a level 32 mage-bard.
“Hey, look at chicken orc go! That’s poultry in motion.”
“What do you think happens when he dies? Does he become a poultry-geist?”
“You’re looking tired, orc. You better work on your hen-durance.”
Jeez. He really needed to get rid of this unfortunate status so he could escape his pun purgatory. First, he needed to work out what to do with his new toy.
He went to Konrad’s work studio, where he took out the broken brooch he’d looted and set it on a workbench. Next, he laid out some orb weaver flesh and limbs.
“What are we doing?” said Bee.
“Experimenting.”
Strapping his artificer goggles on, he stared at the brooch. With the mind points he’d gained after leveling, and with jumping from the Nickel to Tin rank in artificery, it was much easier this time. It was only a few seconds before he saw the holes in the brooch; one circ
ular, the other octagonal.
He knew that circular artificery holes gave resistance to things, while the octagonal ones added damage. After his experience the night before, and given he wanted to shed his chicken label and stop the awful puns, he knew what he needed to do.
First, he took out his repair hammer and tapped away at the brooch. It was a delicate thing, and he had to be more careful than if he was crafting with metal. He worked away; a tap here and a hit there, until his armorer skill and repair hammer fixed the crack that ran along the side of it.
You have completed a [good] repair
Great, it was fixed! Now it was time for artificery. Using his Deconstructor mallet, he smashed up the orb weaver flesh and then one of the limbs, leaving him with two piles of essence.
Orb Weaver Flesh essence
Grants resistance against orb weaver poison, or allows you to add orb weaver poison damage to attacks.
Orb Weaver limb essence
Grants extra speed, or the ability to slow others down.
Why was it that the more choices you had, the more you didn’t want to make the decision? First, he couldn’t choose between using the poison or the speed effects, and then he had the conundrum of whether to add damage or resistance to the brooch.
Then again, the brooch had two holes. Why not try something new?
He took a pinch of poison essence and put it in the circular hole, and then put some in the octagonal hole, too.
He held up his brooch to study it.
Brooch [Fixed]
Effects: None
“Hmm. Looks like I can only use one artificery hole. Filling both of them cancels the effects out. And I’m talking about filling holes too much. Now, how do I…uh…get my essence out of the hole?”