Rogue Games

by Angie A Huxley

  The manager wasn’t happy to only have a few days’ worth of payment instead of a month, but he seemed more inclined to accept Matthew’s offer of the rest before his time ran out in the room thanks to Matthew living up to his promise to pay, even if it wasn’t the total amount.

  By the time Matthew retired to his room, he was determined to get the rest of the levels under his belt. He was exhausted mentally about worrying over the money situation. As something that had started out as a job, the game was becoming so much more integral to Matthew’s life. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that, but he wasn’t going to quit before seeing what having access to the Urbane Bank really opened for him.

  Though there was always that part of him that wanted to log on as soon as he was settled back in bed, Matthew’s body was only too happy to remind him that he actually needed to sleep. He would only end up getting exhausted midway through the game and have to cut it short – and he knew better than to leave Alejander alone in the middle of the day. The in-game signals had yet to wake him up due to an actual player-on-player incident, but Matthew didn’t trust that they didn’t happen. Getting attacked by the elf ranger had shown him that much.

  Chapter Fifteen

  [LOGGING ON...

  Alejander woke up slowly, warmth pressed against him either side. It was chilly, and he could hear the patter of rain hitting the shelter. It was still early, the sun not yet poking above the horizon. The warmth was from Hera and Greta, both of them had him boxed in, the fire still going just beyond Hera. It was dangerous to have it so close to the shelter, but Alejander was glad that it hadn’t been snuffed out by the rain.

  You have replenished: 130HP

  35 stamina.

  Current Stamina: 120/120

  Current HP: 235/235

  Maybe next time he wouldn’t tempt fate by having the fire in a position to set alight his WaterRepellant sheet, the one thing that had saved his hide so many times from getting soaked through or too cold.

  Alejander peered over the top of Hera’s body, the soft rise and fall of her shoulders, to see the lay of the land. The moss was dark with rain, the rocks a dark brown with birds trying to take shelter under some of the bushes, shaking out their feathers.

  He gave it another few minutes, before stretching, dislodging Greta, who snorted and looked up. He ran a hand over her nose, scratching just under her mane. He wasn’t enthused about having to travel in the rain, but he couldn’t stay still just because it was wet. Besides, the hamlet wasn’t far, and they could always find shelter there.

  Before getting himself ready to head out, he decided to use a corner of the shelter, which took him a few minutes to get untied, and set up a water collector, having the rain water collect into the empty bottles. He would have to boil it to make it drink worthy, but he still had his fire going, and it would quench his thirst.

  He felt invigorated now that he had woken up, the increased HP and stamina from the dungeon making him feel stronger. It was stranger after being such low level and experiencing the slow progression to now. He was only level 8 but it was enough to give him a lot more enthusiasm for what was to come. Getting through another dungeon at level 8 was less daunting. He also had Hera, who seemed to be growing alongside him.

  It was as he was boiling the water, and some of the meat for breakfast, that Hera finally woke up. She stretched, shaking out her fur and nosed over to him, whining.

  “Morning,” he said, scratching her behind the ears. Her tongue lolled out, eyes closed in happiness.

  Greta was next to finally get up, mane and tail a little knotted. Alejander was glad that he had thought to buy the brushes before leaving GRANGE TOWN. After breakfast, and letting the water cool, he took a comb to Greta’s mane, teasing out the tangles. The rain was still coming down, but it wasn’t hard, and seemed to be easing off slightly. Greta stood patiently while he combed her and gave her a quick brush. Hera was less patient, padding around the shelter and nosing at the moss outside, staring up at the rain. She would probably get more wet than either Alejander and Greta, but he would make up for it by a warm bath and letting her dry off in the hamlet – and then the dungeon.

  Finally, when they were all ready, he took down the shelter, making sure to fold it up and drape it over Greta’s hindquarters so that she would remain partially dry. She was tacked up and tied to one of the stakes; Hera was crouched next to her, between Greta’s legs so she could remain mostly dry.

  “It’s not that bad,” Alejander said, laughing a little.

  Mounting Greta, he settled on the saddle and then clicked his tongue, guiding her through the wet moss and up the side of the hill. There was no specific path to follow, so he kept an eye on the horizon, occasionally checking the map he’d stuffed into the inside of his cloak. Greta was careful, and he tried not to push her, aware she was carrying him, quite a lot of items, and was having to walk through difficult terrain.

  Still, he kept his eye on where they were going, trying to keep it easy enough that nothing would give Greta difficulty. Hera seemed inclined to want to stick close to Greta. She couldn’t get all the way under Greta’s legs, but she was trying hard to get there.

  The hills seemed to go on forever with not much change of scenery, but Alejander could make out various shapes even through the sheet of rain. It was the kind of rain that stuck to you, soaked into everything and made you feel heavy with rain and chilled. Greta’s head was low, and her ears were flat, so he hoped they found cover soon. Eventually, just as Alejander’s stomach was rumbling and Hera and Greta looked bedraggled, the hamlet came into view.

  Winding down the hill, Alejander felt a little lighter, and tried to talk to both Hera and Greta as they approached the hamlet, realizing that perhaps he hadn’t been as uplifting as he could have been on the rest of the journey. Greta picked up a bit of speed, trotting down the rest of the hill and approaching the gates of the hamlet.

  Alejander had his first glimpse of the different town sizes and what set them apart. The hamlet wasn’t as large as GRANGE TOWN; it had a few houses and a tavern, and a small stable that reminded Alejander of the one at the trading post. He doubted he would find anything worth buying here, but he could hopefully have a bed and some warm food, and let the animals dry off and eat something hearty.

  There was no guard at the gates, but as Alejander approached, there was a large creak and they started to open. When he finally managed to get through, with Hera still sticking close to Hera, he dismounted, turning to face the couple of gnomes who had opened the door.

  “Welcome to HIGHTOP,” the male said, his smile strained. “I’m Haylan.”

  “I’m Demeter,” the female said, her expression more genuine and lighter. “People don’t usually pass through.”

  “Then I hope you have room for me,” Alejander said, bobbing his head at the inn. “I wanted somewhere to spend the night and get some good food.”

  “Then you are definitely in the right place.” Demeter clapped her hands together, giving Haylan an unimpressed look. “Get Petra out here. I’m sure he wants to stable his horse and his, oh, is that a wolf?”

  “She’s fine,” Alejander said quickly. “She can be stabled or stay with me, whichever is easier.”

  Demeter and Haylan shared a look, but Haylan shrugged, sighing and heading off towards the stable. Demeter gave Alejander the once over and then looked down at Hera. “She is quite beautiful. I don’t see a problem with allowing her in the inn if you don’t want to leave her in the stable.”

  “Actually,” Alejander admitted, running a hand over Greta’s neck. “I was hoping to ride up to the dungeon and back before nightfall.”

  Demeter didn’t look surprised. They might not get a lot of visitors at the hamlet and Alejander could understand it, given the lack of anything worth staying for, but he could imagine the ones that did pass through were dungeon bound.

  “Why do you stay here, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  “I�
�m only playing for the immersion,” Demeter said, shrugging. “Haylan is my real-life husband. We have children, so we like to keep our in-game playing short. This place is perfect for that. No overly long quests, nothing too fancy.”

  That made sense. “What happens when you’re not around?”

  “There are quite a few of us, all living in the same town. It’s why we started the hamlet in the first place.”

  It gave Alejander some insight into why the hamlet was here, and why they didn’t seem equipped to deal with a lot of people. Still, there was enough here to set him up. “Thank you.”

  Haylan was returning with another female – Alejander assumed this was Petra – and that she would be taking care of Greta. After handing over the reins and paying more to have an extra bag of hay when he left, including a bag Petra was sure she had lying around, Alejander followed Haylan and Demeter into the inn. It was small and bright, with only two tables and a couple of chairs. It looked homelier than the rest and wasn’t the kind of place someone would come to when they wanted to have a great time.

  “What can I get for you?”

  “Anything but meat,” Alejander said with a laugh. “All I’ve been able to get on my travels is meat.”

  “I think that can be arranged,” Demeter said, and disappeared behind the bar and out of sight.

  Haylan remained, grabbing a glass from behind the bar. “Would you like a drink?”

  “Sure,” Alejander said, sliding onto one of the stools. Hera settled at his feet.

  “So,” Haylan said, shoving a drink across the bar. He refused to take the money Alejander offered, and though part of him felt guilty, he didn’t bother trying to shove it on him. “Demeter tells me you’re headed for the dungeon.”

  “I was hoping to.” Alejander took a sip of his drink. “Any tips?”

  Haylan shrugged. “Never been. Doesn’t get a lot of traffic and those we do go don’t talk much.”

  Alejander made a face. “Hopefully it’s enough to get me up a couple of levels.”

  There was no reply for a moment, and though Haylan was giving him the once over, Alejander let him take a look. He didn’t care what Haylan thought he saw, only hoped that whatever the gnome had to say, it would be worth it in the long run. “It should be that. There’s also supposed to be a treasure worth it at the end, but the rate of obtaining it is very slim. It tends to leave people wary of it.”

  It was worth noting. Treasure was always good, especially given what Alejander had managed to obtain so far, but he wasn’t sure he cared about it more than he did the experience. Haylan had little more to offer, but he did appreciate hearing about Alejander’s travels, and when Demeter finally appeared with a hot stew and bread, Alejander found himself laughing at Haylan’s stories.

  Despite spending all of their time in-game at HIGHTOP, he had a couple of adventures under a second avatar, like his wife, that they used to live separate lives in game. It was interesting to hear about, gave Alejander wider knowledge about the way other players approached the game.

  Still, as soon as he’d eaten, and Demeter had given Hera some food, which again Alejander tried to pay for and was waved off, he decided to head out. This time he’d take Greta with him, hoping that even if it was a low-level dungeon, it would still be manned.

  Haylan waved him off with directions, and though the rain hadn’t stopped, it was light. Hera had a bit more of a spring in her step, and Alejander was grateful they had somewhere to come back to. The travel was quick and Alejander could see a small camp set up outside a copse of trees. It had pretty good shelter, despite the lack of cover, and though it looked safe enough, Alejander wouldn’t have chosen it.

  There was a small fire set up just at the edge of the shelter, and underneath the cover, a gnome was sat on a small log. He was cooking something that smelled delicious, and on the ground, there was a black panther at the gnome’s feet. Its tail was flicking lazily against the ground. Hera immediately let out a growl, hackles raised, and Alejander snapped at her to stop.

  The panther didn’t react to Hera’s antagonism, and instead kept chewing on the bone he had nestled between his paws.

  “Don’t worry,” the gnome said, with a wave of his hand. “He’s a fat lump.”

  “Still,” Alejander said. Hera seemed to have concluded that the panther was no threat and settled back, ears still pricked forward and eyeing the panther occasionally, but was mostly distracted by the smells around the camp. “Are you manning the dungeon?”

  The gnome laughed, looking up at him from under a helmet. He had a bow leaning against the same log he was sitting on, but Alejander couldn’t figure out from that alone what class he was. “Manning is the wrong word. Wasting my time. Not many people try this one.”

  “Yeah, I heard that,” Alejander offered, dismounting. “Can I leave the horse with you?”

  “Them’s the rules,” the gnome said, grinning. He seemed very light-hearted. “Promise she won’t get eaten.”

  Alejander hadn’t been worried about that. Now he eyed the panther with skepticism. Still, he tied Greta to the hitching post and rubbed at her nose, promising he would be back soon. It seemed odd to him that a forest would be an ideal location for a dungeon, but maybe that was why nobody came. Still, he couldn’t pass up the opportunity to get some experience.

  Hera stayed at his heel as he approached the forest, stopping only long enough to pick up the bow and arrows he’d acquired from the ranger. They would come in handy – and if the spiders had taught him anything, it was that he needed a wider range of weapons if he was going to make progress.

  The forest was eerie, but no more than the dungeon had been. Alejander put the bow over one shoulder and kept one hand on one of his daggers, wanting to be ready for anything. Wind rustling through the trees made it difficult to make out any sounds within the forest itself. It was much louder than Alejander was expecting; no forest he had yet to travel through had been quite as drowned out by the wind as this one.

  “Maybe it’s part of the dungeon,” he muttered to himself.

  Hera seemed as put off by the forest as he was. She was attentive, head swaying one way then the next, trying to keep track of their path. Her ears and shoulders were up, a sign of warning.

  The trees seemed to thin out ahead of them, turning into a clearing that was much larger than any he had seen so far. Even the first clearing that he had taken shelter in. However, in the center of the clearing, there was a large tree, almost six feet across. Alejander didn’t know what the circumference was, but it was huge. The tree itself had thick, dark brown branches, and bright green leaves that bunched around the branches.

  “What the hell,” Alejander muttered. The trunk of the tree had a huge gaping hole, big enough for two humanoids to walk side by side. The clearing itself was enclosed, the trees thick enough that Alejander could find no way to get out unless he went back the way he came.

  Sniffing at the trunk of the tree, Hera let out a soft whine.

  “What is it, girl?” Alejander asked.

  Hera looked up at him, then peered back into the trunk of the tree.

  Now that he was closer, Alejander could see that the inside of the trunk twisted inwards, with a slope that went down into the ground. Perhaps the tree was the dungeon. Shrugging, and deciding he had nothing to lose by giving it a go, especially with a teleportation stone, he gestured for Hera to follow and climbed into the tree, ducking his head even though the lip of the hole was a head or so higher than he was.

  The inside of the trunk was dark, but there were a few mounted wall lamps lighting up the path down into the tree. The walls were smooth, yet it smelt musty and old. He could hear Hera’s footsteps behind him. The ramp twisted around as they went down, and then opened out into a larger space. It was still a corridor, that stretched out in front of him. There were similarities between this and the corridor in the dungeon, though this one was framed in wood rather than in stone.

&
nbsp; Hera paused, letting out a huff of air in something that was almost a bark. Alejander immediately stopped, body tense. He couldn’t hear anything, could only see because of the mounted lamps. Hera pushed past him, sniffing at the floor.

  “What is it?”

  Hera’s nose was at the floor, growling low in her throat.

  Alejander clutched at his daggers, feeling a sense of unease with the fact that he didn’t know what to expect. It didn’t take long for him to understand Hera’s discomfort.

  The ground beneath Alejander’s feet erupted upward, rubble and wood flying everywhere in a burst. Alejander had to duck as a huge purple body, wrinkled and slimy, took up a huge portion of the tunnel.

  Trunk Worm

  Level: 9

  Description: Thick in every way!

  Hit Points: {unknown}

  Damage: ? {sludge} ? {bite} ? {crush}

  Reach: Close/Range {bite/sludge}

  Leaping backwards as the worm slammed down onto the ground, Alejander ducked into a crouch. The worm didn’t have a face as such, but a gaping maw instead, rows of shining teeth flashing in the light. Its body writhed and Alejander saw the worm’s mouth contract, and then something green and thick was bursting out of the worm’s mouth. Though Alejander’s stats for evading were high, it wasn’t enough to stop all of the sludge hitting him.

  You have lost: 30HP

  His left side had a huge blob of sludge impact his cloak, the material melting beneath the acidic substance. Alejander hissed as it ate through clothing and skin, leaving angry red marks and burns in its wake. He groaned, side throbbing, and tried to concentrate on climbing back to his knees.

  Hera had lunged at the worm, claws scraping at the clammy flesh, her teeth goring at the tough scale. It was a disgusting creature, nothing Alejander had seen before, and nothing he could remember from what little Matthew had found while searching.

  He contemplated using poison on his daggers, but if the sticky substance was acidic, he had a suspicion that poison would have little effect on the worm. He grabbed for the bow instead, nocking an arrow with shaking hands. Hera was occupying the worm for now, but its attention wouldn’t be distracted for long. Raising the bow and waiting only long enough for the worm to try and twist to get at Hera, he shot an arrow into the thick skin of the worm.