by R. A. Mejia
Pierre and I continue the routine, moving from shadow to shadow, until we’re only a few feet from the two guards. I’m unsure of how we’re going to get past them when a small rock flies from Pierre’s hand and down the stairway across from us. The rock clacks off the stone walls and then loudly clatters down the steps. I quickly check the eye on my UI and am glad to see that it hasn’t moved at all. The two guards stop talking, draw their swords, and cautiously move to investigate the sound. It only takes me a moment to realize what Pierre has done: he’s distracted the guards and moved them away from the doorway that we need to get through.
I take the opportunity and move as quietly as I can to the heavy wooden door and pull on the handle. It’s locked, but I grab the set of keys that I picked up from the jailer from my inventory. They jingle loudly and I hear a low swear from Pierre as he shushes me. I slowly insert the keys into the lock and turn them. The clank as the lock turns sets my nerves on edge, and I’m sure any moment the guards are going to notice us. Yet, Pierre and I sneak through and close the door behind us with only a slight creaking of the heavy metal hinges, which causes my stealth eye to open slightly.
We made it past the guards! I’m quite proud of myself, and I breathe a sigh of relief until I hear someone say something in French. I spin around and find two more guards. Unfortunately, my sudden movement causes the stealth eye to open fully, turn red, and disappear. A guard’s eyes widen as he catches sight of me, but the other is turned away and hasn’t seen me yet. I instantly draw my sword and lunge forward, activating by ability Stab. The sword in my hand glows red, and I feel my TP drop a fraction as the blade magically speeds toward the guard that has seen me. My quick action scores me the first strike, causing a red 5 damage.
Unfortunately, the attack also alerts the other guard, and I hear him draw his blade from his scabbard. I use Roll, and my body pitches forward as the ability activates, tumbling away from the newly armed guards. I pivot as I come to my feet with my sword ready to strike again. Both guards stand side by side and lunge forward in an almost perfectly coordinated attack. The first blade strikes high, and I barely bring my blade up in time to push it away. The second blade strikes low and I feel a burning slash along my abdomen. I kick out with a foot and catch the guard whose sword I parried in his stomach. The blow only does 3 damage, but it knocks the wind out of him, taking him out of the fight for a precious few seconds.
I immediately use Roll to get away from the second guard’s slash and then Roll a second time to put even more distance between us. As I come to my feet, I find myself wishing that my grenade launcher was usable, but a restriction of the dungeon prevents it. Otherwise, I’d blow these two guards up and then blast my way out of this whole place. Then I remember that the launcher is not my only ranged option. I haven’t had to use magic since the Dungeon Games because we always have more powerful mages in the groups I have been in, but I still have a couple of ranged spells. I consider using Fireball but dismiss it instantly. My guide is somewhere in the area, and I don’t want to hit him with the spell. So, I’m left with Ice Needle. I fling my left hand forward, palm out. I see both guards’ eyes widen as my outstretched palm glows blue, and a thin needle of ice about six inches long forms after three seconds. I carefully aim the projectile, call out the spell’s trigger word, “Ice Needle,” and the floating projectile shoots forward like an arrow straight into the chest of the leftmost guard. As the needle pierces his uniform and enters his flesh, a flash of blue radiates from the point of impact, and a small red 9 floats away from him. The guard takes a step forward and raises his blade, but his movement is noticeably slower, a side effect of Ice Needle.
The unslowed guard grimaces, and cries out “Tête de noeud!”, and charges me. He’s moving too fast for me to get off another spell, and I’m forced to bring my terrible blade work to bear. I deflect his first strike, but the guard follows up with a second and third, both of which connect, doing 25 damage. I try another kick, but the guard easily sidesteps it and lashes out with the hilt of his sword for a quick jab to my face. I feel the impact and stagger back, my brain jostling around inside my skull.
I’m sure I’ve taken damage, but don’t bother looking for it. Instead, I focus my attention on my opponent. His next attack is a lunge, and I clumsily slap his sword with mine. As his blade is deflected past me, I use an ability that I have not used regularly since I first absorbed it from a zombie. I grab my opponent’s sword arm with my free hand and activate Iron Grip. Zombies use the ability to get a firm hold on their victims, but I’m using it to immobilize his arm, preventing him from using his sword. I can tell that the ability works from the pained expression on his face, and even though he tries to pull back, my ability stops him from breaking away. My sword, however, is free, and I go to work stabbing him again and again. Red numbers float away from both of us as he weakly punches me with his free hand, but I ignore his attacks and keep stabbing until the light in the guard’s eyes goes out. He drops to the floor, dragging me down with him since I still have Iron Grip activated.
You’ve defeated Prison Guard, level 8. You receive 80 XP.
It’s only taken seconds to kill him, but it feels like forever. I deactivate the ability, releasing my now-defeated opponent’s arm, and turn to find the other guard slumped over on the floor. Pierre is standing over him with a small shiv in his hand, and I can only guess that he used his superior sneaking skills to get behind the slowed guard and stab him. I walk over and help Pierre finish off the guard, getting me another 80 XP plus a few more notifications.
You’ve completed the quest - Fight, flight, or sneak?
You receive 500 XP.
Congratulations. You’ve learned the skill Slashing Weapons, level 1.
Your ability Ice Needle has increased to level 4.
Your skill Piercing Weapons has increased to level 2.
While I’m curious what my new skill can do for me and what a level increase in the spell does, I know that now is not the time to get lost in reading descriptions and doing math. With the two guards defeated, Pierre and I stare at each other, unsure what this means for our escape. We wait, expecting to hear alarms or the sounds of reinforcements approaching. After a minute passes with no response, Pierre smiles and says, “Looks like luck is with us. No one heard the fight.” Then, as if seeing me for the first time, he squints, and his smile turns into a frown. “I saw what you did with the magic. No wonder they were going to execute you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Poor foreigner. I do not know how they treat magic in your country, but here, it is feared and outlawed. I would be careful about using your spells in public. Any regular citizen will quickly report you to the guards if they see you using magic.” He winks at me. “But only if they see you. People like me, the thieves and outlaws, do not care. We already break the law to make our living. After we make our escape, I will introduce you to some contacts that may even have work for a person with your skills.”
I only nod, recognizing a quest line when I hear it. The remainder of our escape is relatively simple. The two of us creep through dark hallways, either hiding when a patrol approaches or crawling through hidden areas. Once, I even use my ability Spider Climb to crawl up a wall and reach a hidden passageway that I spotted because of the bright yellow splash of paint along the entry. Pulling Pierre up after me, it lets the two of us avoid a group of ten guards and a potential fight that I don’t think the two of us could have won. After what seems like forever, we finally make it to an outside window that’s easy to force open and escape through. That first breath of fresh air has the smell of the sea and the taste of freedom.
You’ve completed the quest - Escape the Chateau d'Why.
You receive 3000 XP and freedom from the prison.
I pull up my character sheet and see that Sneak has increased to level 2, and with the XP from the escape, I only need 1539 XP to get my next level. I consider how many guards I’d need to go back and kill to get the XP, but P
ierre pulls on my shirt and motions for me to follow him away from the prison. I reluctantly do so, knowing that there will be more XP to farm in the rest of this dungeon somewhere.
Chapter 9
Pierre and I escape the Chateau d'Why, which turns out to be a prison built on an island, by stowing away on a supply boat between crates of odorous salted fish. The trip back to the mainland is tense, and I spend it carefully listening for any sign that we’ve been found. On the journey, I also take the time to look over the new skills I picked up while breaking out of the prison.
Slashing Weapons
Level 1
So, you want to slash something? This skill lets you use weapons with an edge effectively.
Bonus: Increased damage with slashing weapons by 10%.
Ice Needle
Level 4
9 damage + Slow Effect
Cost: 14 mana
Freeze enemies and friends alike, or just use it as a party trick. Ice needle does little damage but slows a single hit foe by 30% for 7.5 seconds.
Gaining the skill Slashing Weapons only gave me a slight bonus to the sword I’ve been using, but honestly, I still do more damage with the war hammer. When Ice Needle increased to level 4, its damage, slow duration, and mana cost increased. While it’s now more expensive to use, the increased damage and slow effect makes Ice Needle a spell worth leveling up.
Once the supply boat docks, Pierre and I carefully sneak off and get lost in the busy harbor. There are streams of people coming and going, hauling cargo on and off ships, and traveling through the area. Amid the bustle of the workers, Pierre pulls me aside. I think he’s going to say his farewells, and I consider how I’m supposed to figure out how to beat the dungeon. But he surprises me.
“What will you do now that you’re free?” he asks.
I shrug. “I’m not really sure. I don’t know the area, and I suppose my first task will be to remedy that. Afterward, I don’t know. Probably try to figure out my purpose here.”
He laughs. “Figure out your purpose? The great question of life. Well, I don’t mind admitting that I didn’t have much hope of ever seeing this side of the harbor again, stranger. But you broke me out, and I’m not one to let that kind of debt go unpaid. I have a strong feeling that the two of us could further help each other, and I’d be willing to introduce you to some friends of mine that can help someone of your . . .”--he makes wavy gestures with his hands--“err . . . skillset . . . find tasks that give your life meaning.”
The suggestion has more merit than anything I have planned, and I quickly agree to meet these friends of his. I follow Pierre through the harbor district, expecting him to lead me to some area within the massive collection of buildings. Instead, I’m taken to a district right along the walls that protect the city. The area is filled with rickety wooden buildings that look like they were cobbled together from pieces of driftwood. The structures are built in a haphazard manner, often right upon one another, making multiple levels that include a combination of both homes and businesses.
People walk the dirt streets dressed in simple garments and shoes. Everyone keeps their heads down, presumably focused on their own tasks and destinations. Their behavior reminds me of the neighborhood I grew up in. It was a place where there was lots of crime and illegal things going on. But the normal people who were just too poor to leave made an intentional effort to mind their own business and turned a blind eye to the acts. It's a type of survival strategy. After all, the authorities can’t compel you to talk about what you haven’t seen, and as the saying goes, ‘snitches get stitches.’
Pierre leads me down several streets and up a set of rickety stairs to the third floor of a fairly nondescript building. The wooden stairs creak as we walk up, and Pierre stops at a surprisingly solid-looking door with a metal plate set into it at eye level. He knocks once, pauses, then knocks three more times. The metal plate slides open, and a voice says something in French. Pierre answers in low tones, and I hear several locks click before the door opens. He ushers me in with a smile, and once the two of us are through, the door closes and locks behind us.
As my eyes adjust to the dim light, I make out a rough-looking bearded man at the door. He glares a challenge at me, and I quickly avert my gaze. The wide hallway leads down a row of rooms. Pierre tugs on my sleeve, and I turn to see him motioning me to follow again. We walk down the hallway past rooms with worn doors. Vague sounds and moans float through the thin walls, and I wonder where we are as the smell of cheap perfume reaches my nose. One of the doors opens ahead of us, and a blonde woman in a sheer negligee walks out. She winks at me as she walks past, and I realize that we're in a brothel.
Pierre ignores everything else and heads straight to the room at the end of the hallway. I follow, unsure now about the kinds of friends Pierre has. A man in a chair outside the door looks Pierre and me over, and Pierre gestures to me as he speaks to the man. I can only assume that he is explaining who I am, but since they're speaking in French, they could be talking about how dumb I look for all I really know.
The man knocks on the door he's guarding, it is unlocked, and we go through. I'm surprised by the decor as I step into the room. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it wasn't a room carpeted with thick rugs and furnished with an expensive, polished wooden desk larger than my bed. The walls are lined with dark mahogany cabinets and bookshelves, and the room is lit by several oil lamps that cast a golden glow over everything.
A woman is sitting behind the desk, wearing what can only be described as a gown with a high collar. Her walnut-colored hair is up in some undoubtedly fashionable design.
Pierre bows from his waist towards the woman, and I follow his example. She and Pierre talk briefly before she turns to me and switches to English. “Pierre tells me that he owes his life to you and that he never would have been able to escape the Chateau d'Why if you had not saved him and fought through the guards. Is this true?”
I briefly consider trying to impress the woman with an exaggerated tale but quickly discard the idea. Her piercing brown eyes seem like they miss little and tolerate lies less. So, I stick to the truth. “Pierre and I helped each other. I did indeed fight several guards, but Pierre showed me how to sneak out. Without him, I would have had to fight many more guards before I escaped.”
“But you do not doubt that you would have escaped, even without Pierre’s help?”
I answer without hesitation, “Yes. It may have taken a few tries, but I would have figured a way out with either strength of arm or spell.” It is true too. The only thing required to beat stealth games is the patience to figure out the various maps and enemies’ behavior patterns. Most modern games even allow for alternate methods of completion through fighting. I don't doubt that I could have brute-forced my way out. It just might have cost me a couple of respawns.
She stares at me for a moment, judging my words and examining me, and then nods as if she has made a decision.
Pierre turns to me and says, “This is Lady Dantès, the leader of our organization.”
Lady Dantès inclines her head ever so slightly, and I nod in return. “I am Anthony Tinoco. It is a pleasure to meet you.”
She smiles and speaks to Pierre. “Oh. You have brought me a well-mannered one for once.” Then, turning back to me, she continues, “You mentioned both strength of arm and spell before, Anthony. Could you show me what you can do?”
“I'm not sure what you mean. I can swing my war hammer decently enough, and I know a few spells.”
Her eyebrows rise in interest at the mention of spells. “Yes. The magic. What can you do?”
“I can cast a spell that forms an ice needle and one that casts a fireball. Both are combat spells, though the ice needle will also slow an enemy.” While Pierre has seen me cast combat magic, I don't trust these people entirely and decide they don't need to know everything I can do.
Her eyes actually sparkle for a moment before she says, “I sense you are holding something back, but what
you have revealed tells me that we can make use of you. If you would be amenable, that is.”
“What would you have me do for you, and what do I get out of it?”
Lady Dantès smiles at me, and I get the sensation that I've just asked a lioness what she wants for dinner. “Well, those are good questions. Our organization has some specific goals. We've come together to address the inequality between the rich aristocracy that has grabbed power and the normal citizen that is being crushed under their heel. They grind us down with taxes that leave little or even nothing for the food and shelter, much less anything that might improve our lives. People are stuck working twelve hours a day in factories, farms, and in the mines while the property owners live lives of luxury--and woe to any who cannot pay their taxes. They are jailed or conscripted into military service to pay off their ‘debt’ to the nobles. Rather than risk that, most people end up falling in with crime. Not to mention the outright discrimination against those with magical talent. At the first sign of any magical ability, children are taken from their parents, and any who resist are murdered or jailed. Any adult discovered to have hidden their magic is outright executed.”