by John L. Monk
Rita didn’t seem convinced. “Maybe … But what about Jaddow?”
“I didn’t ask Bernard about him. But I should. They can’t both be going by unofficial nicknames.”
“Well, they can,” she said, “but it’s not likely. Jaddow seems more like a fantasy name. Anyone choosing a name like that would definitely update his sheet.”
I smiled hesitantly. “So we’re friends again?”
I held out my hand and waited.
Rita eyed me up and down in consideration. “I guess … But next time, just be honest with me. Or I’ll kick your ass.”
“Deal,” I said.
We shook on it.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
On the way back to The Slaughtered Noob, Rita quizzed me about the apples she’d seen while scouting the Salamander Lair, as it was officially called. When I told her what I’d done, she clapped excitedly.
“You found an exploit!” she said.
An interesting term.
“Is that what it’s called?” I said. “If they cared, they should have put a limit on how many apples and pears we can make. They sure limit how many shields I can cast. One per hour.”
She laughed. “You’re not gonna apple your way to Ward 2, Ethan. Still … hard to believe you cleared out the lair all by yourself.”
I shrugged, enjoying the praise. “Probably didn’t get them all. Might be some left. And you saw that big one. Thanks again, by the way.”
Rita nodded. “The big one’s the boss. That zone’s too high level for us … or should be. To kill Big Pappa, we need more people. But by the time we form a party, the little ones will repop.”
“Repop?” I said.
“Yep,” she said. “Every five hours, the zone resets. You saw the tunnel with the vines? Go back and you can fight the Creeper and those wimpy skeletons. You and I are bound to this instance. Jim too. Anyone else who buys Bernard’s map gets a different version. Bernard said if we go deeper, the instances join together again, just like outside. Pretty nifty. I can’t wait to see the rest.”
“How did you divvy up your points?” I said.
“Strength and vitality. I also put five in agi.”
Agi? Oh, agility.
“My boots give me plus five vitality,” I said, “but I still couldn’t keep up with you.”
“That’s because I have the Lightfoot trance. Monks don’t have spells. We get trances, blocks, and attacks. Lightfoot lets me run as if I were half my weight.”
A monk version of Sprint—which I still needed to get, given how much running I was doing. My guess was the designers wanted people of the same level to keep up with each other, so everyone got some way of moving quickly.
Rita’s eyes twinkled mischievously. “Do me a favor?”
“What?”
“Say this: I challenge you to a duel.”
“I challenge you to a duel?”
“No,” she said. “Say it like you mean it.”
Frowning, I said, “I challenge you to a duel.”
Rita said, “I accept your challenge!”
DUEL WITH “Rita” SET FOR 5 MINUTES. GOOD LUCK!
Rita tapped me lightly on the chest with the palm of her hand, and a hidden force sent me sprawling to the ground. Afterward, my chest felt like she’d punched it with all her strength—and my health dropped by 6!
“Dammit, Rita,” I wheezed, rubbing my chest. “What’d you do that for?”
Her grin vanished, replaced by a look of worry. “Are you okay? Buddha Tap has three settings. I popped you with the lightest.”
“I’m fine. Here—help me up.”
She reached down, grabbed my hand, and …
Zap!
Rita yelped and snatched her hand back.
I yowled with laughter. “Oh, that’s rich! That’s what you get for swami-smacking people.”
“It’s called Buddha Tap,” she said, shaking her hand and rubbing it. “Dammit … I can’t feel my fingers!”
“Help me up?” I said, reaching with my other hand.
“Screw you,” she said and started walking, but I could tell she wasn’t mad.
We were nearly to the plaza with Bernard’s inn. I was a little worried about my looming reception. Having been gone for about fifteen hours, I’d obviously failed to reach Ward 2. Would Bernard and the noobs pretend not to notice? Welcome me back without a word? Or would they smugly rub it in my face?
Bernard’s mocking grin as we walked in answered the first question immediately.
“Well if it isn’t Mythian’s greatest swashbuckler!” he shouted. “Back from a hard day of swashing buckles in faraway Ward 2! Run out of hill giants to slay? No more ancient black dragons left in the Brittlebone Mountains? Spectral Army destroyed all by yourself, never to return? Why, I bet you’re ready for a trip to Ward 3 now. But why stop there? Why not skip straight to Ward 4?”
The bearded bartender laughed and mocked me for a good five minutes, and the noobs at the various tables joined him. They, at least, had the grace to shout things like “It’s fine, man,” and “Everyone messes up sometimes,” and “You just gotta pace yourself, that’s all.”
Rita kept a neutral expression, but I could tell she was enjoying it.
When the noobs finally lost interest and Bernard went back to his polishing, I said, “I’m gonna ask him.”
“I’ll go with you,” she said.
Bernard smiled at our approach. “I did try to stop him, you know. You heard me. What am I here for if not to help you silly noobs?”
“Why don’t you shut up for once?” Rita said frostily.
“It’s fine,” I said to her. Then to Bernard: “You said you’d never heard of Cipher. Is that still true?”
He cocked his head and eyed me curiously. “That again? I never lie, Ethan. It’s not in my nature. But I’ll say it again: there is no player in all the lands named Cipher. Satisfied?”
“What about someone named Jaddow?” I said.
This time, Bernard’s polishing hand ceased all motion and his face grew troubled. “Where the devil did you hear that name?”
“Friend of a friend,” I said. “So you’ve heard of him?”
Bernard nodded his shaggy head slowly. “Oh yes. Heard of him, and was once his friend. But that was a very long time ago. Ranger class, primarily. One-of-a-kind player, he was.”
When I glanced at Rita, she looked shocked.
“Well, where is he?” she said.
Bernard’s face cleared of expression, and he blinked as if dazed. Then he said, “How can I help you two?”
“Jaddow,” I said. “You were telling us about him.”
“Was I?” Bernard said with a frown. “I knew a Jaddow, once. Good guy. Ranger class. Haven’t seen him in years. Oh, look! More noobs for me to help. I’ll just be a moment.”
Without pausing, Bernard went to the front door to greet a group of new retirees still in tunics.
Chapter Thirty
Over the next hour, we tried several times to re-engage Bernard about Jaddow. Each time, he’d get that blank look and seem to forget his spot in the conversation.
“It’s like something’s stopping him,” Rita said later over drinks.
“Uh-huh,” I said. “I think it’s Cipher.”
Rita giggled. “You’re saying he hacked the bartender?”
I shrugged. “He sure hacked my transference. Maybe this is his way of protecting Melody. Remember: he said she was an unregistered player. Bernard works for Everlife. If they found out someone came here illegally, what would they do?”
We went back and forth over it, not getting anywhere. One good thing: given the oddness in Bernard’s manner, and his admission that Jaddow existed, Rita now seemed at peace with my story.
By unspoken agreement, we talked of other things.
“I noticed you didn’t choose the Spider Lair,” she said.
We were sitting at a table in a corner away from the others, who seemed to sense we wanted to be alone.
They looked young but didn’t act that way. I wondered how long their years of good manners would last before they became like those bullies marching through the streets insulting people.
“I should have,” I said. “One of those lizards burned me to a crisp when I tried feeding it. I sat there for hours healing up.”
As I described the ordeal, Rita looked shocked and a little frightened. Not wanting to bring down the mood, I broke off and took a sip of my ale. Tasty, but what I really wanted was whiskey. There were restaurants all over the city. Surely one of them would have some.
“I want to give you some money,” I said. “I can’t kill that big lizard alone.”
“I can’t take your money. That’s for you. To get to your wife.”
I shook my head. “It’s team money, and you’re on the team.”
Rita smiled kindly. “So what happened to you? We were going to be a team then, after the Creeper. Then you went nuts.”
I paused, searching for the right words. “In a way, I felt like I was having too much fun. That if I didn’t do something bold—take a stand—I’d stay here and never leave. Sounds silly, but…”
“Not silly at all,” she said.
“So you’ll take the money?”
“If you’re absolutely sure…”
“I am. Absolutely.”
We had a few more drinks. We got a little tipsy. Then a little drunk. Then a lot more drunk … and then we went to our separate rooms. At no time was there even a hint of something else in the offing. In fact, I’d purposely guided us down the drunken path to see if that happened. We were shipmates, not bedmates, and that’s how it needed to stay.
The next morning, we met downstairs feeling fresh and hangover-free, then visited the bank to get the rest of my money. After that, Magical Matters, where I introduced Rita to William. I thanked him profusely for his help last time. His troll ring had been a life saver. Hoping for a good deal for Rita, I did sort of mention that the 1/2 regeneration rate against fire had stretched out my agony.
William winced. “Sorry about that. But it’ll come in handy when you fight the spiders.” He turned to Rita. “Know what you’re looking for?”
“Sorta,” she said. “But not nearly as well as you. Any advice for a new monk?”
William smiled, told us to wait, and a minute later came back with a box of stuff for her to look through. Rifling through it, he pulled out another box with little wooden pegs. On the end of each peg was a black engraving.
“What are they?” Rita said.
“Tattoos,” William said. “Stamps, actually. A throwback to a hundred years ago, but also a lot of fun. Unlike real tattoos, these are completely removable with soap and water.”
Rita cocked her head in thought. “You know, I met someone once who had a tattoo. One of those artist types. She actually used needles to make hers.”
I pointed at the stamps. “So these are magical?”
“They certainly are,” he said and proceeded to tell us the properties of each stamp.
When we left, Rita had a new set of “fighting batons”—smooth metal-bound wooden rods, about two feet in length. She also sported matching tattoos on the backs of each hand. Haste runes, William had called them. They’d allow her to hit slightly faster, either with her hands or when striking with batons. William must have succumbed to the guilt trip I’d given him, because they seemed rather high-end, even with my limited experience in these matters.
“I thought monks just punched and kicked,” I said.
“We can, but we also use batons and a few other things. Staves too, just like casters. You guys stink at weapons, though.”
We found a coffee shop a block away, and I managed to keep from asking out loud if medieval Europe had coffee. Or movie theaters. I’d seen two of them already.
Once seated, we went over our plans for the next two weeks: lots of grinding in Under Town. Afterward, in a month, we’d head out with the other low-level players to fight “The Goblin Tide” in the west. This was a higher-level quest involving hundreds of gamers. Bernard told Rita that players only won about half the time. Regardless of victory, it was considered a great source of points and gear for new players. To get there, we needed to reach level 20—the minimum allowed for earning the quest reward.
A while later, Rita let slip she’d briefly joined another group who were grinding to 20 like us, and that’s how she’d gotten to level 4.
“Do you think we should join them?” I said.
She shook her head. “They’re trying their luck outside the city.”
“Why aren’t you with them now? Not that I’m complaining.”
“The leader said I could stay, so long as I put my points into comeliness.”
That didn’t make sense. “But why would he … Ah. He liked you.”
“No,” Rita said, “he wanted me to pay for tagging along.”
“Oh…”
“You ready for Under Town?” she said tightly.
I took the hint and nodded.
Along the way to the fountain, I said, “You know, the goblins are outside the city.”
“Yeah, so?”
“Jaddow said he’d … Well, he strongly implied he’d kill me if I tried leaving again.”
“I thought he said before you’re ready.”
“What if we don’t agree when that is?” I said. “The guy’s trigger happy. I don’t want to get shot in the neck again.”
Rita socked me painfully in the arm. “If he wants ready, we’ll get you ready.”
Chapter Thirty-One
When we got to Under Town, the salamanders had repopped. We killed a quarter of them before retreating—me for mana regeneration, Rita to recover from a scalding. Unlike with me, she’d mostly shrugged off the attack using her monk abilities. But fire was fire, pain was pain, and guilt was guilt. As I sat against the wall waiting, it was all I could do to keep from asking how she was every five minutes.
We still hadn’t killed the boss, so we hadn’t gotten any treasure yet. But the kills got me halfway to level 6, and Rita had leveled to 5.
After she recovered, we ran through the Creeper’s lair again. Rita had to tone down her abilities because she was “one-shotting” skeletons before I could “tag” them, as she phrased it. Belatedly, I wondered if I’d made a mistake staying with sorcerer.
Though watching Rita whirl her batons and kick apart skeletons was fun, what she did to the Creeper was a sight to behold. I’d tagged one of the tentacles with a 6 point Zap, after which she let the thing wrap her up—on purpose—and drag her into the air. She then killed it from inside the tangles, fell to the dais, and landed deftly on her feet.
No, we didn’t need the piddly 700 points it gave. We wanted to see if we’d get another cascade of treasure. Like last time, the chamber imploded, but the only thing we found in the rubble was more rubble.
“Bummer,” Rita said.
“Worth a try.”
“Kind of boring, though. The spiders should be way more fun.”
When we got there, Rita quickly changed her mind on that point. The spiders were big, fast, and vicious, and their cicada-like chittering stood my hair on end.
These were our most difficult battles to date. I’d fire off an initial Lightning Bolt, and she’d spend most of her time dodging and blocking the nasty creatures. In time, we worked out a system where she’d slam them against a wall and hold them for me to blast with an Ice Bullet—and no, not Lightning Bolt. We’d learned early I couldn’t shoot anything with lightning while she was holding it or the electricity would zap her, too. Rita had chalked up that mistake as part of our learning curve, but I still felt guilty about it.
Upon hitting level 6, I acquired a new spell called “Flame Lance.” With a whopping one-minute cooldown, Flame Lance was more powerful than Lightning Bolt but required me to point my staff at a target.
We messed up early and ran into the Spider Queen—another Under Town boss. It poisoned Rita in a sneak attack wit
h a retractable scorpion stinger. Just barely, we managed to kill it before the poison killed Rita. To keep her alive, I had to loan her my regeneration ring. Three hours later, the poison had finally dissipated. She’d squirmed and sweated buckets for the entirety of the effects, and we both agreed that on future repops, we’d avoid the Spider Queen.
One good thing: we found a cache of gold and gear in the hole from which the queen had crawled.
Rita said she couldn’t use any of it. I tried on the armor but realized I’d need a lot more strength than I had to wear it. And my spells hit harder than anything I could manage with a sword. We still didn’t have a good bag, so we left the weapons at the tunnel split for when we felt like quitting.
We both gained a solid level off that kill, bringing me to 7 and her to 6. I also got to choose my first new defensive spell since Weak Shield:
Spell name: Fire Guard
Rank available: 7
Mana cost: 50 (Deferred, per person)
Cooldown: 4 hours
Duration: 1 hour
Absorbs: 100 Points of Fire Damage
Description:
Protect you and your friends in an invisible shell of mystic asbestos!
One good thing about Fire Guard that wasn’t in the description was it cooled the air around us, making the salamander’s lair a tiny bit more bearable.
To deal with the additional mana cost of protecting both of us, I dumped the points from my last two levels into intelligence, which bumped my mana to 370 after gear bonuses.
Feeling good about our chances, we decided to take on Grandpa Salamander. Without the use of Flame Lance (the creature was immune), I wasted a lot of mana casting lower-level spells. We got burned pretty good waiting on cooldowns, but thanks to Fire Guard, the damage wasn’t nearly as excruciating as my first encounter. It still hurt, though, and Rita lost a little hair … and her eyebrows … and a bit of her left ear. But we won.
The treasure we got for killing the beast more than compensated for the temporary agony: a magical Ring of Strength, which we agreed should go to Rita, and a new staff for me. The +100 mana bonus beat the pants off my old +10 staff. With 460 mana, I could shoot off seven Flame Lances if I wanted, or a whopping fifteen Ice Bullets.