by Pavel Kornev
Although these two weren’t as big as the two mountain trolls I’d seen during the siege of Stone Harbor, they were half as tall again as a human being. In an open fight, Goar might even have had an advantage, but once he’d allowed them to drag him into a hand-to-hand, he got lost, not knowing whether to let go of his sword or grab it with both hands and yank it out of the wound. As a result, he just managed to parry the albino’s blows while preventing the fat old ogress from climbing to her feet. This was a deadlock situation.
I did a quick appraisal of the female’s fat flanks. Getting to her body through all that lard wasn’t going to be easy. So I slid behind her blondie son and slashed his tendons with my dagger. I was lucky; he shuddered and dropped to one knee. I clenched the dagger between my teeth, climbed on his back, reached deep into his filthy blond mop and wrapped one of the dreadlocks around my wrist; then I buried my dagger into his neck.
The ogre struggled, bellowing, and very nearly threw me off. Still, I held on, dangling off the dreadlock, and hit him again. This time my blade hit the spot between his collar bone and his shoulder blade. The wounded ogre left Goar alone and circled in place, very nearly smashing me against the wall. He reached back with his right hand, trying to grab me by the scruff of my neck; his clawed fingers whooshed just past my head, missing it by a sheer miracle.
To add insult to injury, I was still dangling from side to side, so I just couldn’t deal a normal blow. My dagger barely scratched the surface, unable to pierce the iron-clad muscle in order to get to the creature’s vital organs. If only I could find some purchase on which to pivot! — but no, I was more likely to collapse in a heap on the ground. There was just no way I could take good aim for a stabbing blow.
I’d already regretted my interfering a hundred times. The young ogre was way out of my league. It wasn’t for nothing he was outlined in red. Too strong an opponent; way too strong, I’d say. Plus Goar wasn’t really sure whether he was coming or going!
Still, I shouldn’t have thought bad about him. As soon as he noticed that the ogre was about to shrug me off and trample me into the floor, Goar spat out a short spell.
It didn’t even feel like second wind — it felt like I’d gained a good ten levels!
Blessing of Equilibrium!
Duration: 07 min 59 sec… 58… 57…
All of my stats jumped 8 pt. I was now stronger and more observant; my dagger hit exactly the right place, sinking deep into the unyielding flesh. I also managed to pull myself up with my left arm and place my knees against the small of the wounded youngster’s back. It couldn’t have happened at a better moment: the ogre was already feeling around with his enormous mitt, trying to grab me by the foot.
A prompt blinked and expired. I stabbed again. The monster squeaked as the dagger sliced through a tendon. His right arm hung limply.
Crippling Blow!
Yes! Take that!
The problem was, he hadn’t forgotten about his desire to kill me. He might have even succeeded, had it not been for Goar who finally jerked into action. With his left hand, he buried his dagger in the old woman’s neck; she wheezed and let go of the sword’s guard. Goar released the sword and slashed downward across her body, dealing a truly terrifying wound. Something rattled inside the old hag’s severed chest; she collapsed. The paladin then stepped toward the albino and dealt him a sweeping blow across both legs, chopping one off and crippling the other one beyond repair.
The ogre collapsed to his stomach with me still astride him, burying my dagger in his neck time and time again. The monster attempted to roll over and even leaned his good hand on the floor but Goar was immediately upon him, lopping his arm off at the shoulder.
Roaring, the albino collapsed back onto the floor and began to convulse. Then he died. One of my blows must have severed an artery, finishing him off with a profuse bleeding.
The Young Albino Ogre has been killed!
Experience: +4930 [10 423/10 750]
The level is increased!
The level is increased!
The level is increased!
Oh wow. I’d just made almost as much XP as I’d earned ever since I’d returned to the game.
I was awesome! No, scratch that: I was super awesome! I’d made level 19 in just one day!
Having said that… it would never have happened without Goar’s help. Basically, he’d turned the ogre into a helpless stump, allowing me to finish him off and snatch a nice fat lump of XP for myself.
“Phew,” I said, rolling off the ogre’s corpse. “What a fight!”
I was a little dizzy. The floor seemed to move underfoot as I shook with the ginormous adrenaline rush. I could neither think straight nor calm down my breathing.
“You all right?” Goar asked, rolling the young ogre on his back.
“Yeah,” I said, watching his actions with some reservation. It’s true that Goar’s helmet now sported more dents than before, but his strange behavior couldn’t be explained by something as trivial as a concussion. “Whatcha doin’?”
“I need his liver,” Goar explained. “As a trophy. Understand now? It’s the most valuable drop in this entire cave.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure!” he snapped. “Come on, get on with it!”
“What do you mean?” I asked, taken aback.
“Are you really so stupid?” Goar growled. “Did you read your surgery book? Did you get the Flailing skill? Come on then, cut his liver out already! Stop messing around!”
I really didn’t feel like rummaging through an ogre’s guts, so I asked, “Can’t you do it yourself?”
“I don’t have the skill,” he snapped. “Quick, get your act together! Time is money!”
I could see he was serious so I didn’t dare question his orders. Using my dagger, I ripped the ogre’s belly open and froze in indecision. “Do you know what a liver looks like?”
“Not the slightest idea!”
“Which side is it supposed to be on?”
“John! Which one of us read your surgery book?”
“Yeah, yeah, sure,” I murmured as I reached down the incision. All my fingers could feel were the rubbery ribbons of the ogre’s gut, so I was forced to make another incision, moving slightly to the right. There I felt a hard lump of flesh and, after fiddling with it for a while, finally managed to pull it out.
Was that it? It was indeed! A new system message was my witness:
Achievement received: Anatomist Grade 3
“So what are we gonna do with it?” I asked Goar.
“Give it here,” Goar snatched the bloodied mass of the organ from me and bagged it.
“Hey!” I protested. “What d’you think you’re doing?”
“I’m entitled to a trophy of my choice, remember? That’s the deal!”
I snickered. “So that’s why you brought me all the way here? Is it a quest item or are you gonna sell it?”
“What difference is it to you?” he laughed. “Did you get your leveling out of me? You sure did.”
“I still need one more level,” I reminded him. “I’m level 19 now and I need to be level 20.”
“Sorry, man. Some other time,” he replied nonchalantly as he reached for a portal scroll. “I gotta log out. Feel free to do it on your own. Bye, John. I’ll see you around!”
“Wait a sec! What about me?”
“What about you?” he shrugged. “Sorry. Bucephalus cannot carry double.”
“Bolivar,” I mechanically corrected him. “In the book, it’s ‘Bolivar cannot carry double’.”
“What’s that for bullshit? Bolivar is the currency of Venezuela. We’re taking about a horse, so it’s Bucephalus.”
He broke the seal, stepped into the portal and disappeared from the here and now, leaving me standing open-mouthed.
How’s that for a development?
Bolivar or Bucephalus, I really didn’t care. The big question was, how the hell was I supposed to get out of here?
08 hrs 13 min…
I DECIDED AGAINST leaving the cave. Not straight away, anyway. I started by distributing my available skill points. I invested some in Dodge, then added a point each to Agility and Perception. I also brought Strength up to 13 because this was one stat no rogue should ignore: it directly affected Stamina as well as the piercing power of bladed weapons.
During the earlier struggle, the cooking pot had been upended and its contents spilled into the fire, filling the cave with the most obnoxious stench, so bad that I was on the brink of ignoring any potential loot just to get out for a gulp of fresh air. Still, I got a grip and continued to search through the ogre family’s meager belongings.
I discovered a whole heap of clothes stiff with blood in a far corner. I rummaged through it but left it where it was. I then studied the cave looking for any potential stashes, and miracle of miracles! — my Insight, boosted by the blessing, highlighted a rock which looked a bit suspect.
In a small hollow under it, I discovered a tiny fabric bundle. In it, I found a “Silver Ring of Grome”, a strangely shaped copper amulet with the ugly head of an orc emblazoned into it, and about three hundred gold coins.
Silver Ring of Grome
Strength: +1
Stamina: +5%
Unhesitantly I put the ring on the little finger of my left hand, then turned to study the amulet. It was shaped as either some exotic flower, or an ugly splayed hand. It said nothing to me, so I decided to auction it off.
Just as I took this decision, a spasm shook my body. A nauseating wave of weakness rolled over me. My head swam. I grabbed at my hand, suspecting that the ring was cursed, but it wasn’t. Things weren’t so bad, after all — or maybe they were?
Your Blessing of Equilibrium has expired!
Penalty: -2 to all characteristics
Penalty duration: 7 hrs. 59 min 59 sec… 58… 57…
What kind of “blessing” was that? Well, Goar, thank you very much, man!
So at the end of the day, I had indeed smoked the ogre — but now my return trip wasn’t going to be a bunch of laughs, I could see that coming. I even toyed with the idea of sending Goar a brutally honest message, but I downplayed it and headed back to the albino.
Had Goar said liver? Could this creature have something else to offer?
Overcoming nausea, I slit him completely open — but either my knowledge of surgery and anatomy was still lacking or precious time had been lost, but I found nothing. Only when I’d reached his leg stump did I get lucky. Once I stripped it of all the muscle, I ended up with a “Bone of an Albino Ogre”.
I immediately thought of Mr. Lloyd and pocketed the trophy. You never know, he might use it to make something for me. Or he could just buy it off me, whatever.
I did my best not to even look in the direction of the fat old ogress. I had no intention of rummaging in her entrails. I checked the cave once more, found nothing of interest (no wonder, with such a penalty to perception!) and climbed out of the cave under the dark night sky. I washed the blood off my hands in the small stream that reeked of rotten eggs, cast a wary look around and set off on my return journey.
I simply had no choice. My map, albeit open, was filled with darkness, its only explored area the road we’d taken to come here. Then again, I might need to search the snakemen. They might have some interesting items on them. Some money would come in handy: Goar had already paid off his debt and I couldn’t see any other avenues of potential income.
I walked unhurriedly, stopping occasionally to listen in. Goar had taken me a long distance away from the lands recommended for new players, so in his absence, any accidental encounter might become problematic. Also, I was pretty tired, hungry and very thirsty — so thirsty I would have very nearly drunk the murky stream water had it not been for its putrid smell.
In any case, I remained on my guard, so I heard the weird knocking sound straight away. Alarmed, I stealthed up and froze in the shadows of a big branchy bush. I was scared.
Yes, scared. The pain from my wounds was far too real to risk opening up to a sword or ending up in a monster’s jaws. I could attack someone from behind no problem, but as for sticking my neck out… I don’t think so!
Overcoming my hesitation, I continued along the path which snaked amid the cliffs and precipitous drops, hoping against hope that my Stealth level was sufficiently high for whoever it was not to notice me.
And I was right. The source of the knocking noise was a dwarf who was running from one boulder to the next, hitting them with his pick and mumbling something under his breath, apparently oblivious to his surroundings. His disheveled beard was covered with foam from his frothing mouth.
The Mad Mine Digger
I peered at him, making out a faint haze swirling around his head. He was mad all right. Cursed, most likely.
In theory, I could sneak past him. Still, I wasn’t in a hurry to do so; instead, I started thinking of different ways to smoke him. He appeared strong enough, clad in a quality cuirass, his head protected by a good steel helmet with a chainmail neck guard. You couldn’t slit his throat so easily. His body was outlined in orange rather than in yellow, indicating that he might be way out of my rogue’s league.
That didn’t stop me though. The path was narrow, the abyss deep. The dwarf seemed to be reeling as he walked, apparently unstable on his feet. I could accelerate and push him down the abyss but unfortunately, running and stealthing didn’t go hand in hand. A couple of blows of the dwarf’s pick would see me off, that’s for sure. A man’s skull wasn’t the strongest part of his anatomy. And I had no intention of porting to the Pearly Gates — or rather, to my own respawn point.
I vividly saw my brains explode from my shattered skull, splattering the ground. I felt sick. Oh no, this wasn’t a good time to barge head on. Was I a rogue or just a pretty face?
I sneaked toward him and leaned both hands against a cliff, then leapt, unwinding my body and kicking the madman into the abyss. He didn’t even scream as he cannonballed down. I heard a thumping sound below. Shame about the loot.
Still, as they say, man shall not live by loot alone…
The Mad Mine Digger has been killed!
Experience: +4930 [10 841/12 900]
The level is increased!
Achievement received: Cowardly Cutthroat!
Level 20! I’d done it!
I burst out laughing but stopped, frowning. A Cowardly Cutthroat? What was that now? I didn’t mind the “Cutthroat” part, but cowardly? I had a very bad feeling about it all.
My intuition hadn’t failed me. Just as I suspected, the achievement proved to be a poisoned chalice.
Cowardly Cutthroat
You’re an expert in covert attacks. The blows you deal to your enemy’s back are accurate and lethal. Still, an honest fight is something entirely different: something you don’t have a great deal of experience at. This is what makes you doubt your own skill.
+5% to your chances of dealing a crippling blow and +10% to both Accuracy and main damage when attacking in stealth or from behind.
-15% to both Accuracy and main damage when attacking in the open.
I just shook my head. Those bastards!
It looked like the devs didn’t approve of rushed leveling when a more experienced player would distract the enemy while allowing the newb to attack the opponent from behind. Therefore, this “achievement”. Earned an extra 10 levels by hiring such an assistant? — Then enjoy the moniker of a Cowardly Cutthroat.
Still, I wasn’t too upset. For a rogue, the achievement’s bonuses definitely outweighed its penalties. If the truth were known, I had no business engaging in an open fight, anyway. But still…
That’s when I noticed the fine print below. I read it and smirked. There was one way of getting rid of the “Cowardly” part and all the restrictions it incurred. To do that, you had to earn over 50% of the XP required to reach the next level in an open fight. If push came to shove… why not?
I invested the available points into Agility and Do
dge, stealthed back up and hurried down the trail, hoping no one had come across my dead snakemen, pocketing my loot. It would be a great shame.
I'd been worrying for nothing. The bodies still lay there untouched as I’d left them, in drying-out pools of greenish blood. For a while I didn’t move, standing with my back pressed to the wall and casting wary glances around me, listening intently and even sniffing the air. Then, still stealthed-up, I slid toward the closest of the monsters: the one which had very nearly killed me had it not been for Goar’s sword.
What an abomination! A scaly tail, an almost human body… Yuck.