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Rogue Games Page 9

by Angie A Huxley


  You have lost 7 stamina

  Current Stamina: 6/25

  That settled it for him; he was going to have to sleep. Taking out some of the meat from the satchel, he remembered how much stamina or HP just eating some would give. After a hearty meal, and watching darkness settle over the forest, Alejander tucked the rest of the food away in his satchel.

  You have replenished: 6 stamina

  Current Stamina: 12/25

  It would be enough to get him to sleep. Shoving the wolf away from the camp, he started to hack at some of the meat. It was arduous, but he kept his cuts slow and easy so that it wouldn’t eat into his stamina too much. With a few slabs of meat cut away, he started on the pelt, removing as larger pieces as he could. Again, it took a while, and though he still had to get through putting up the alarm system, he had skinned as much of the wolf as he felt able.

  You have lost: 5 stamina

  Current Stamina: 7/25

  You have acquired: Wolf Pelt

  Durability: 5 {untanned}, 20 {Tanned}

  Usage: Many applied

  Quality: Poor/Great

  You have acquired: Grey Wolf Meat

  Replenishment: ? {uncooked}, 3HP or 3 stamina {cooked, each}

  Usage: 15

  Quality: Poor/Great

  Exhausted, Alejander was going to have to sleep next to the body. It was far enough away that he shouldn’t be bothered too much by it, but he would have to set up his alert system in game – and make sure all the alarms were set on the headset. It wasn’t particularly safe, but he had no options. He didn’t have the stamina to spare for another fight, though he had a decent amount of HP left.

  As he logged onto the interface to set up the VR alarms, he was given a notification.

  YOU CURRENTLY HAVE 10 UNSPENT SKILL POINTS > Assign?

  He’d forgotten about those!

  Deciding to add an extra five to his stealth – he could do without alerting the next creature to his arrival – and another five to his survival, he gave himself a rounded skillset.

  You have added: 5 points to Survival and 5 points to Stealth

  Skill Points: 55 + 6

  {Dagger +3

  Dagger: +3)

  Existing skills: Riding {10}, Stealth {15}, Lockpicking {10}, Perception {10} Survival {10}.

  “Alright,” he muttered, starting the fire with another of his matches. The fire crackling nicely, he made sure the twine stretched decently around the clearing, encompassing the corpse, Greta, the rest of the shelter, and the fire. Instead of plates, he used his two water bottles, which made if not the same sound, a lower pitched bang which would work just as well to wake him up.

  You have lost: 4 stamina

  Current Stamina: 3/25

  Settling down on his makeshift bedroll, Alejander made himself as comfortable as he could, trying not to put much weight on his arm. “Night, Greta.”

  Greta snorted but kept on eating. Making sure the fire had enough wood to burn through the night and straight to next morning – he’d need it to cook the meat – he settled down and closed his eyes, hoping that he’d make it through the night.

  ...LOGGING OUT]

  Chapter Eight

  [ALERT: Trap triggered in-game. Log on?]

  Matthew was instantly alert, half-reaching for the VR headset before he was fully conscious. It took him longer than he would have liked to grab it and put it on, used to Alejander’s quick movements and not his own slower ones.

  [LOGGING ON...

  Alejander came awake, blinking through the helpful information stat blocks, telling him he’d regained some, but not all of his HP and stamina. It was still dark, the fire crackling a few feet away and it took him a moment to see what had triggered the trap.

  The bottles were no longer clanking, but Greta was awake, her head turned in the direction of the dead body.

  Slowly, with as much stealth as he could muster, he slid his dagger from under the bunched-up tunic he was using as a bedroll. He winced, forgetting in his haste that he still had injuries, though they weren’t nearly as painful as they had been yesterday.

  The light of the fire gave him a murky and distorted image of the wolf carcass, and something shifting next to it. As Alejander moved slowly into a sitting position, his heart leapt in his throat at what he saw.

  Grey Wolf Cub

  Level: 1

  Description: All teeth and claws, and a dangerous mental aptitude – in miniature!

  Hit Points: 3

  Damage: ? {Bite} ? {Claw}

  Reach: Close

  Alejander cursed under his breath, eyes widening as the cub saw him looking. It cowered next to the body of what Alejander could only assume was its mother. The idea of killing the cub when it was so small made him feel slightly sick, but if he left it alone, there was a good chance it would die anyway.

  The dagger still in hand, Alejander crouched low to the ground, approaching the grey wolf corpse. The wolf cub started to growl, a whiny sound that would have made Alejander laugh under other circumstances. The closer he got, the more the cub started to back up, still growling. Pushing up from his knees, Alejander let out a slow breath as the wolf cub yelped and leapt back into the trees and out of sight.

  Sliding the dagger back onto his belt, Alejander stretched, rolling shoulders and trying to get the blood flowing in his extremities. He didn’t know what time it was, but a quick check of his stats told him that it had been almost a full eight hours.

  You have recovered: 15 HP

  19 Stamina

  Current HP: 55/60

  Current Stamina: 22/25

  Now that he was awake, the sounds of the forest were enough to keep him that way. The call of night birds, howls and rustles from around the forest, and the occasional yell of someone in the distance. It was eerie and disconcerting, so Alejander stoked the fire a little higher and set about making another spit; he’d cook the wolf meat like he had the stag meat and give himself more food to work with.

  While he had been asleep, the wolf had started to rot. Not terribly so, but enough that he didn’t trust taking any more meat from it. Tying the rope to two of the trees, he hung the pelt on it, using one of the containers of water to wash it as best he could. It would start to smell but if he could find some way to clean it properly, he could sell it for a good price.

  By the time the sun started to rise against the backdrop of trees, Alejander had cooked through all of the meat, and the pelt had started to dry. Blood was still matted in the fur, and he’d need to dip it in a river or get more water, but it would do. By the time he was ready to take the camp down, Greta had eaten another apple and was stamping and snorting in the morning mist.

  “We’ll see what we can find, eh?” Alejander said, rolling the pelt up in the waterproof sheet. He stowed everything back in his pack except for two pieces of meat. It wasn’t the healthiest of breakfasts, but it would replenish the rest of his stamina and almost all of his health.

  As he took hold of Greta’s reins and started to lead her through to the next clearing, there was a rustle of bushes to his left. Hand on the hilt of his dagger, Alejander scanned the bushes, but he couldn’t make anything out. He didn’t want to be ambushed again, didn’t want to have to fight something so soon after the grey wolf – at least not until the afternoon. If he was going to make it to level ten and get into the bank, he was going to have to kill some more things. Though he wondered if there were other ways to earn experience other than just killing everything in sight. It would be worth thinking about.

  Turning away from the bush, he decided to wait and see what happened; Greta didn’t seem distressed and she was usually his best gauge of when something was dangerous. If the rustle in the bushes was terrifying enough, she would let him know.

  Confident, he kept pushing through the underbrush, eyes on the treeline, trying to pick out any movement, anything out of place – something that would give him some idea of how to progress. As the dawn gave way
to morning, light spilling through gaps in the trees, clouds starting to cover some of the heat, Alejander could hear more sounds in the forest. There were more people around, the path not too far away given the amount of foot traffic he was running into.

  There was a lot more of the forest to explore, so instead of heading out towards the path, he tried to make his way deeper into the thick of the trees. Greta’s ears shifted back and forth depending on where the noisiest activity was taking place. Mid-morning Alejander pulled the map out of his satchel, double-checking his progress. Though he didn’t have any good way to tell whereabouts he was in relation to the forest – he needed to find a map with more detail – there was a lake indicated on the map somewhere in the forest, and the rivers were clearly marked.

  Though he knew that the deeper into the forest he went, the more likely he was to find things to kill, he needed to keep to the path. Most of the paths intersected the lake at some point. He had enough containers to get himself there, and eventually, most of the creatures would have to come to the river if they were going to survive. It was enough motivation to have him changing direction, apologizing to Greta as they went. He could have avoided the fight with the grey wolf altogether if he had thought of this last night.

  As the trees started to thin, Alejander hoisted himself back up onto Greta, setting himself in the saddle and picking up the pace. As he did so, he was once again aware of the rustling, and from his new point of view, he could see parts of the bushes parting. There was a flash of grey and then it was gone. Greta was still ignoring it, so he assumed it was a hare or a rabbit. She had only been startled the night before because it had raced out in front of them.

  As Greta pushed her way through the bushes and out onto the path, a cart trundled past, the back piled high with boxes and bags, some goods scattered loosely around. Two armed elves rode on both sides, hoods up and bows easily accessible. Alejander kept his attention on the forest behind him and startled when he saw a familiar grey muzzle poke out of the bushes, catch sight of him and dart back again.

  Was the cub following him?

  Shaking his head, Alejander nudged Greta forward onto the path, urging her into a trot and then into a canter. He kept a good pace with the cart, though put enough distance between them that the elves – who were obviously guarding the cart – didn’t think of him as a danger. Occasionally, he would look behind, but he didn’t see any more of the wolf cub. He put the matter out of his mind and by the time the path split off into two forks, the sign detailing LAKE or TRADING POST, Alejander was grateful that he had thought to take the path. As much as he needed experience, he needed to be clever about gaining that experience.

  With the sound of running water, Greta managed a burst of speed and as the lake came into view amongst the trees, Alejander frowned at the number of people he could already see. Surrounded by trees, the lake still had a good bank to it, grassland that stretched a fair way. The lake must have been a good two miles. There were figures swimming in the lake, clothes drying against the bank. Animals scattered among the grass, some eating, others drinking.

  “Guess we won’t be staying here for long,” he muttered, looking for a part of the lake that was at least a little more private. The variety of races was astonishing even in this small part from what Alejander could see – there were some he recognized but the majority were unfamiliar. Though it didn’t look like people stayed for long, given the ease with which Alejander had found it, it wouldn’t take long for others to arrive.

  Leading Greta to the water, he kept a hold of her reins letting her take her time drinking while he dug around in his satchel for his water containers. He filled them all up again, sealing them tight and putting them back in the satchel. When he unwrapped the pelt, he tried to keep it as much to himself as possible, remembering Sardonya’s words at theft only occurring if he had something worthwhile. He couldn’t tell which level other people were at, so he would just have to be cautious. He had spent a lifetime doing so outside of the game, so it would be easy in-game.

  When he was satisfied with the cleanliness of the pelt, he wrung it out quickly and wrapped it back up in the sheet. It would keep that way until he found a good spot back in the forest to hang both the sheet and the pelt back out.

  While at the lake, he took the time to clean himself, aware that he hadn’t done so back at the inn. Staying as clean as possible would at least help to keep him hidden; he didn’t want his smell to attract anything. Halfway through cleaning, made awkward by having to keep a grip on Greta’s reins, he caught sight of a familiar face in the water a few meters away.

  “Sardonya?”

  Sardonya out of the booth was something; she had red hair shoved up in a messy bun and a tunic that had seen better days, singed and torn. Her breeches were made of a tough hide, and she was sat on the edge of the bank, cleaning what looked like pretty good armor. Looking up at him and squinting, Sardonya shielded her eyes with a hand. “Do I know you?”

  Embarrassed, Alejander rubbed at his face, startled by the stubble that was starting to form along his jaw. “Sorry. I forgot you probably saw a ton of people that day.”

  Tilting her head, Sardonya took a moment and then nodded. “I remember you. The rogue who gave me coin.”

  “Right,” Alejander said, though now that he’d struck up a conversation, he didn’t know what else to say.

  Sardonya turned back to cleaning her armor, but she gave him an affable smile. “So. How’s life treating you?”

  “I leveled up,” Alejander told her, washing out his tunic. He should have purchased more clothes at the trading post. “Trying to get to that dungeon.”

  “Congrats.” Sardonya held up the chest plate, looking it over. Resting it back between her legs, she smirked. “Still not worth attacking, I bet.”

  Alejander shrugged, unconcerned. The more people suspected he was too low to matter, the better off he would be. “Surprised nobody’s tried anyway.”

  Sardonya gestured to the lake. “This is an amnesty zone. See those markers?”

  Alejander followed her fingers. The path he had entered and the three others that snaked away from the lake all had twin posts with orange balls on top. The balls reminded him of his teleportation stone in the way they glowed. “I didn’t see those.”

  “People usually don’t, unless they’re pointed out. They’re well placed.” Sardonya donned the chest plate, wriggling until she was satisfied. “If you try and attack someone in an amnesty zone, you lose levels, depending on how high or low you are compared to your victim.”

  “That’s... harsh,” Alejander said, frowning. It didn’t seem like much of a deterrent either, especially for lower levels. When he said so aloud, Sardonya snorted.

  “So those kills you made, you’d want them erased, would you?”

  Alejander shook his head and returned her wry smile. “I see.”

  Grabbing one of the bracers still on the floor, Sardonya started to clean that as she had the breastplate. Meeting his eyes, she sighed. “That’s your last piece of free advice, by the way. Next time I’ll make you pay for it.”

  Nodding, Alejander shook out the tunic and climbed out of the water. Greta was eating at the edge of the lake, tugging at the long grass. He would have to get moving if he wanted to put distance between himself and as many people as possible.

  “Off hunting?” Sardonya asked, peering up at him.

  “Yeah.” Alejander tugged on his satchel, putting the sheet and pelt on Greta’s back. “Maybe I’ll see you around once again.”

  After a pause, Sardonya climbed to her feet. She reached out a hand. “Here.”

  Alejander took it almost immediately, shocked when a display flickered up.

  [SARDONYA NAREYA, Paladin, WOULD LIKE TO BE FRIENDS > ACCEPT?]

  “You can be friends on this thing?” Alejander accepted the request. “You learn something new.”

  “You wouldn’t need to,” Sardonya said, with a slap of
his arm. “If you ever read the manual.”

  Alejander shrugged. “I’ve made it this far.”

  Sardonya muttered something under her breath, but her smile was genuine if small. “Go kill shit, rogue. I’ll see ya when you’re worth a little more.”

  Alejander left with her laugh echoing in his ears. Perhaps having a friend wouldn’t be so bad. Refreshed and clean, he mounted Greta quickly, avoiding the paths and heading straight for the forest. The lake itself split away into several smaller rivers, so Alejander set Greta on a path alongside one of them. He tried to keep in the same direction, away from the trading post, the inn, and KLISTER.

  It didn’t take long for the sounds of the lake and chatter to disappear under the sound of wind whistling through the trees and the creak of boughs and branches. The cloud cover that had seemed so nice that morning was starting to darken and Alejander cursed, certain that rain would probably end up falling. It wasn’t the most ideal of circumstances, but he was once again glad that he had thought to bring the WaterRepellant sheet.

  Though he was hoping to run into something soon, for the next couple of hours there was nothing. There was evidence of animals; Alejander saw a couple of tracks but he had no idea what they were and didn’t bother to stop and check them. It was getting colder and though his tunic wasn’t completely dry he put it back on, shaking out his cloak and throwing it over his shoulders. Patting Greta, he encouraged her to keep going, assuring her they would find somewhere to set up soon.

  It wasn’t late enough to be thinking about sleeping, but it was getting cold enough that Alejander didn’t want to keep pushing forward if it was going to affect how quickly they could move through the forest.

  There was no clearing around, but there was a patch of trees that had enough room for Alejander to set up camp and would also let Greta move about. It wasn’t ideal, not as much grass as he would have liked, but it would hold them until the next day. Dismounting, Alejander decided to give Greta a bit more leeway in how far she could move by using the rope instead of her reins. Looping it around her neck, he used the knowledge Matthew had acquired in his work to form a slip knot. Tying the other end against the tree, Greta had a little more freedom. He left a good lump of the rope against the trunk – he didn’t want her wandering the full fifty feet – and then set about putting up the tarp.

 

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