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Earthdom: A Post-Apocalyptic LitRPG (Ether Collapse Book 3)

Page 10

by Ryan DeBruyn


  “The food he gave us tasted of playdoh, and nearly everyone but my group had 'died' on the first floor,” Gerard continued. “My group made it to the second floor where everyone was held, but the basic patrol mobs were all boss-level creatures. What can we do about this?”

  Rocky held up his hand to get the council's mutterings under control. “LFD is often difficult to deal with. However, if we post guards in front of his entrance to warn people regarding how difficult it is and his hostage policy, we will see a dramatic decline in delvers.”

  A few people shrugged. It wasn’t exactly enthusiastic, but Rocky took it as a good sign. “I would suggest we start there. LFD will slowly learn what gets him more attendance and what gets him less. Earlier, he let slip that keeping people inside his depths gives him something. So, I am pretty sure this will work. On another topic, I am interested in this food he created.” The Grotto was facing food shortages. While the new Ether_Assisted Protection was in place again, the fact that the Dungeon could provide food seemed a boon he hadn’t expected.

  The group agreed with his suggestion and a military runner was sent out to stand guard at LFD's entrance to provide warning to all who would enter of the dangers involved. Rocky assumed that most people would wait until later in the week to attempt the Dungeon. The problem, of course, was that if everyone attempted to run the Dungeon on the same few days, the Etherience penalties would likely mount.

  At least they had a plan of action, and while LFD was erratic, if people didn't want to enter his depth, he would likely want to change it. The council discussed taxes and the sale of their non-Enchanted goods to the shop.

  “I wish to hold off on selling the created gear, as I believe we can discover how to Enchant it. Once Enchanted, the value should increase exponentially,” Rocky explained.

  Astrid’s chair squeaked as she stood. “Crafters don’t have a reliable source of income! We can’t just go out and hunt creatures, hoping for Crystals to drop. Leatherworkers and tailors were trading unenchanted crafted gear for the supplies, and some money on top. That market has run dry, as hunters in the Grotto now have serviceable armor. We need another source of income so we can buy new materials and continue to improve.”

  Gerard’s chair flew out from under him. “The adventurers and hunters risk their lives everyday. We pay taxes on all of our loot. The crafters are just sitting here, safe in the Grotto.”

  Okay, I sense this is a topic of some friction.

  Rocky slowly stood before anyone else could wade into the issue. “Everyone has important jobs, Gerard. Astrid is just asking for a way for crafters to recoup some of their costs. This way, they can continue to create stronger gear to provide the adventurers with more safety when they are out hunting. Right, Astrid?” Astrid nodded emphatically while she wrung her hands. “Gerard?”

  Gerard nodded once with his arms crossed.

  “What if Rocky placed five hundred Crystallized Ether into the Guild Bank? The crafters could sell their gear to the Meliora Guild,” Sela chimed in while seated.

  Everyone around the table nodded at this, and Rocky’s jaw clenched. He had been building to something similar. He sat down and tried to relax. He hadn’t known that there was a Guild Bank that could function as a merchant, so he had been planning to buy the gear himself.

  These and other small problems brought them to the most crucial decision. The Greater Territorial Perk.

  Sela shared the options on the Atlantean System meeting functions, and each member took some time to read through the possibilities. While there was a bit of interest in farms, research, or production buildings, everyone agreed that knowing the state of the world was paramount.

  Rocky waited for Sela to tell them about the price for the satellite, but she didn't. He tilted his head, and upon catching his expression, she shook her head so that only he would notice.

  “The connection to the Atlantean Net and a satellite needs to be decided on, as well. It is costly and will require a huge portion of our Territorial Ether,” Sela divulged, skirting around the exact figures. And problem.

  Most people nodded, as if accepting the cost—for the benefit. Still, Sela held up a finger and continued, “This is not as easy of a decision as it seems. It may take us months to regain what we spend and could delay certain options immediately.”

  She walked back to her seat, allowing everyone to discuss the question with neighbors. As soon as she sat down, she whispered, “We cannot ask a group to make a decision on what they may see as murder. We can stress the severity of the decision and gather their collective opinion, but this is why all final decisions need to be left to us.”

  Was she really suggesting they keep Amber's Rebirth a secret? His stomach flipped, and he observed the group while they were discussing the problem. Most were smiling and considering the question, unaware that someone's life was directly tied to it. White-hot rage bubbled in his chest, and Sela put a soothing hand on his knee as Gerard stood to speak. She shook her head at him and motioned with her free hand at the adventurer.

  Gerard addressed the group. “If this tower increases our Territorial Ether gains, then it will not take as long to gather the amount we would need to use for the Satellite link.”

  As Gerard continued, Rocky felt his raging heart decrease its pace—that was a good point. Probably not the first line of thinking that would have been addressed if the council was aware of the life riding on the decision. Rocky's mouth was still twisted as Gerard continued to discuss the benefits of the tower and why spending the life-giving resource was a good option.

  As Gerard sat down, Rocky had to admit they were all excellent points. “Let's hear the negatives of making this decision next,” he said.

  Mr. Pips stood up, his biking leathers hanging loosely on his thinning form. “We would not have the ability to speed up building construction or research for the next few months. Something we have yet to discuss tonight is the pending invasion from the Guild Collective. Could these points be used to increase defenses against them?” Rocky and Sela nodded, and Mr. Pips continued, “Sela has told us we have a while before they arrive. However, she has also insisted that we cannot hope to win without greater defenses in place.”

  “Wouldn't having a connection to the Satellite help us locate more survivors? Could we not use them to help us build defenses faster?” Zippo countered.

  Watching Zippo, Rocky’s pride swelled. Zippo was no longer the scared child he met so long ago. He was becoming a man. He hoped that someone was looking out for the boy’s family the way he looked out for Zippo.

  “Sela, will the uplink let us know if people are still alive, and where they are?” asked Rocky.

  Sela moved her hand back and forth. “It will let us know if someone is still alive, but the system never tracked where on the planet someone was.”

  Maybe it was selfish, but that made Rocky’s decision easy. He needed it to find his family.

  The group ended their discussions, many swayed by the system’s ability to confirm if someone was alive or dead, and the group unanimously voted for the uplink.

  Chapter Eight

  The council left shortly after the vote, leaving the action of pushing the button to Rocky. They hadn’t known what pressing the button meant for him. For his friend, Amber, who had no idea what this would do to her. Rocky had tried to imagine his family back in his arms. It hadn’t worked—his hand still hovered over the button. He pictured an unseen monster chasing his family, and this time, he had the courage to press the button. They needed him. Or he needed them.

  The decision still rankled. He traded someone’s life for this. What if it didn’t work? Or if Michabo had tricked him? How would he live with himself? He would bet that his clone wouldn’t be able to look at him. Or want to.

  It was too late now. He had pushed the button. He grimaced at the ghostly tentacles in the dark that had suddenly shot from the ground beneath the guild tent. Luckily, the people inside had escaped unharmed.

 
He knew from experience that they would construct the tower, but was surprised that they hadn’t needed to provide materials. He and Sela had even been given a countdown timer of twelve hours. He shook his head as the guild tent flapped like a flag in the wind from the top of the eighteen-hundred-foot-tall writhing structure.

  Why can’t we have nice things?

  Rocky recalled Azoth cutting a hole in the same tent as soon as it had unfurled and had to admit that this was the worse of the two to befall the cloth structure. His only hope was that they could find a way to get it down, once the structure finished construction. Otherwise, it was a colossal waste of a thousand Crystals.

  It had taken him the better part of an hour to finally accept the inevitable decision. Sela had stayed with him in the meeting room, talking to him and answering most of his baseless questions.

  He was happy to have a moment alone, now that he was in his private suite within the City Hall. He moved away from the window—he couldn’t watch the construction so soon after pressing that button—and turned to the comfort of his new opulent room. His four-poster bed was more extravagant than a traditional king size from before the crash. Bedding and far too many pillows for one man were laid out for his use. He touched the mattress and his hand sank into its softness, and he couldn’t wait to rest his muscles on it. He wondered if everyone received a bed like this during the week he was away—or if it had just been Sela and himself.

  He removed his sword, frog, and belt, placing them on a rack at the foot of the bed. Other stands held his current armor. Wearing only his Nano-weave under-armor, he poked his head into the room that led off of his bedchamber. He stood frozen, mid-step. It was the holy grail. Something he’d often dreamed of, now more than ever.

  A shower.

  A bathroom. Equipped with a tub, toilet, washbasin, and that gorgeous shower as its crowning jewel.

  He stood in the shower. He was so focused on this luxury that he didn’t recall crossing the floor to the tiled, heavenly space.

  He stared at the black knob that looked like every heat adjustment shower knob he had seen in the past. He turned the contraption and a hiss of air left the black nozzle. His excitement dried up, much like the nozzle—as air continued to stream without a drop of water.

  Of course.

  He was about to give up and take his ogre boogers to the river when a burst of cold water struck. He shivered as the glacial liquid pelleted his skin and chilled his bones.

  He reached for the knob with shaking hands, and the water began to warm.

  Comforting, pleasant—and scalding.

  He jumped out of the stream of water and adjusted the nozzle to find the perfect mix. He removed his soaking Under Armor and pranced into the running water like a child through a sprinkler.

  He hadn’t purchased soap or any sort of cleaning product, but that didn’t matter. All his worries washed away under the constant flow of hot water over his head and tight muscles. He roughly rubbed his hair and beard, feeling the accumulation of dirt and oil slough away. Could he feel the ogre mucus falling off?

  His fingers caught in his beard and he desperately wanted a razor. But perhaps there was another way…

  He summoned his Soul Blade, for one hundred Ether, in the form of a very sharp, flat dagger.

  That was probably the most frivolous use of Ether I could have come up with. But it is going to be worth it.

  Without shaving cream, he cut himself several times removing the beard. Still, the increased healing factor of the system made those cuts close up almost instantly.

  He received a new skill and he laughed sharply before nearly crying.

  Congratulations! You have learned a new skill.

  Grooming

  ● Even primates take better care of themselves than a human without a shower. 1% greater cleanliness per level at the Apprentice ranks.

  Current level Apprentice-Groomer Level 1.

  He was tempted to chop at his hair, which was probably an absolute disaster, but ultimately decided he would simply purchase some shampoo and soap from the shop later.

  He doubted the cue ball look would suit him. A friend had once told him, “Bald is beautiful,” and he agreed that the style had suited the man. He just doubted his misshapen noggin could pull it off.

  He got out of the shower and looked at the vanity that, based on his typical life experience, would have contained a mirror. That mirror would have been fogged up after the scalding shower he had just taken, but alas this vanity only contained a washbasin. For a fleeting moment, he missed the days of swiping his hand across a foggy mirror to see his reflection.

  He sighed and stood on the tiled floor, letting the air dry his body, and made another note to find some towels and a bathrobe—that weren’t pink. Maybe some clothes that would be more comfortable, and ogre gunk-free.

  The ball of Nanoweave armor cleaned itself, but he didn’t want to touch it. Somehow, the thought of putting on his old clothes was an affront to his freshly cleaned skin. He pulled a brand new ball out of his bag and moved it to his chest. It unfurled to provide skintight protection ending below his eyes. Surprisingly, it displaced the water, drying him, and he touched his ear to lower the face shield. Time for bed.

  A hesitant knock sounded at the door.

  He wondered who would be out there at this hour. He cracked the door open, then allowed it to swing further when he saw the visitor. He stood there, gaping like an idiot. Sela, wearing only her Nanoweave armor—which did absolutely nothing to hide her figure—asked him a question.

  His face grew red and he realized Sela was talking

  “… hot water. Would it be okay if I used your shower?”

  He nodded and stepped aside.

  I swear I felt tired a moment ago. Now would be a good time to close your mouth, Rocky. Smooth, real smooth.

  “Thanks.” Sela smiled and made her way to the washroom. “You shaved—” her eyes traveled from his smooth skin up to his unmanageable hair, “—but you should have someone take a look at that mane of yours. At least you got the grass and ogre blood out of it.”

  He turned a deeper shade of red at her—compliments?

  She watched him and must have decided that he wasn’t going to respond as she shrugged and entered the bathroom.

  Rocky didn’t move, his desire warring with his previous civilization and all its unspoken rules. His bathroom didn’t have a door on it, and it was everything he could do to remain at the entrance to his suite.

  His front door was still wide open, and he began closing it when he heard the shower turn on. Then a ball of black substance rolled out of the bathroom, accompanied by a squeal of delight. Sela must have made the noise when the hot water hit her naked—

  He exited his room and shut the door behind him. He had some Enchanting to investigate and a few odds and ends to pick up at the store. It was time to go shopping. Yep.

  He practically fled from the room, as if it contained an unbeatable monster. Outside, the chilly night air hit him, but he didn’t dare turn back for his gear upstairs.

  He headed to the Citizen Accessible Shop.

  As he walked, he selected some blank leather armor pieces from the Territorial Inventory. He really wished he could talk to Azoth right then As he felt his heart sink, he decided that he would go sit with the beastie as he worked. He needed the company, and he missed the goofy Chimera.

  Once in the shop, he picked up the cheapest Enchanted gear he could find and grabbed three, hoping that they were Enchanted by a Skill. If he was going to learn to Enchant, he needed to study how the other races did it, not the Dungeons. Before leaving, he asked, “Attendant, can you search for anything the shop sells related to Enchanting?”

  The attendant took a moment before replying in her ambiguous voice, which emitted from a distinctive feminine human hologram, “Complete. There is one item that is related to Enchanting. Enchanter’s Kit. Would you like to see it?”

  He briefly studied the hologram as he nodded
. Somehow the shop had pulled the likeness of a very charismatic and attractive Hollywood actress. Who exactly it was, Rocky couldn’t recall, but he definitely had seen that face in movies.

  A blue screen popped up, and he scanned the information.

  Enchanter’s Kit

  ● This Enchanter’s Pen, Mortar, and Pestle set is a necessity for any serious Enchanter.

  Cost: 1000 Crystals

  He nearly choked at the price that followed the lackluster description. “Can you negotiate that down?”

  “Negative. The seller is also artificial intelligence, and at your request, provided proof that this price is non-negotiable. Would you like to see the purchase transcripts of every Enchanter’s Kit bought at the market for the last ten years?”

  He wanted to throw up, but all of his gaming experience dictated that this profession was crucial to success and exorbitant. He glanced at his Bag of Holding and read the figure it claimed it held, for Crystals—1,780 and change. They had already placed the five hundred into the Guild bank to purchase the blanks and continue to pay wages.

  He bought the expensive kit and studied it. In retrospect, he probably should have waited and discussed the purchase with Sela, Zippo, and the soon-to-be-resurrected Smith. Still, they would need the item if they were going to gain strength and survive the invasions.

  The purchase came with three items: one was the pen, the others, a mortar, and pestle. The pen appeared to be crafted of diamond and looked like an oversized writing instrument. His entire hand could wrap around it, but just barely. Upon first inspection, he assumed it was a solid diamond, but the weight in his palm felt off. Turning the stylus over in multiple directions under the blinding interior light of the shop, he noticed a seam at the top. He jiggled the cap off and found an empty hollow tube running down the center of the diamond.

  He glanced at the diamond mortar and pestle and realized he was supposed to create the ink to fill it. Was he supposed to grind up herbs that could create an ink...or he might not even need the pen, mortar or pestle for low level enchantments. Who was to say?

 

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