by Kevin Murphy
Dakkon repeated this, goat after goat, flawlessly. For his troubles, he gained a rank in Stealthy and leveled up nearly twice.
The work was grim, but simple. The experience was incredible. The loot was somewhat lacking. They had found a coin purse, a common straw hat which one trest had worn in its sleep, three copper coins, and seven more bone cudgels. Roth decided he was at his maximum capacity for cudgels made of human bone and opted to leave them, lest he be mistaken for a peddler of such wares when back in town. Following that logic, the remaining party members thought it was best not to bother with them at all. No one knew what sort of harm it could do to their reputation to try and sell such a thing. Who would buy it, anyway?
When they returned down to the main hall, their guts wrenched collectively and involuntarily at the sight before them. A trest was poking with its hoof at the body of the lookout that they had killed upon entering the temple. Instead of inspecting the body further, the trest let out a chuckle and picked up the bottle by the downed lookout’s strewn out hand. As the goatman turned and began walking towards one of the four corridors they had yet to explore, everyone let out a small collective sigh and Cline received a pat on the back courtesy of Melee. Dakkon slipped up behind the goatman before it could make any real progress down its desired path, and as it tilted its head upward to take a sip, Dakkon stabbed it in the back while reaching up with his free hand to grab the dark glass bottle that would have otherwise dropped to the stone beneath their feet and shattered.
[You have sneak attacked a trest for 590 damage. Trest has been slain.]
[You have gained 850 experience! EXP until next level 430/3,960]
[You have gained a level! You have 35 free stat points to distribute!]
[Your carefully laid steps become more natural. You have gained a rank in Stealthy!]
“We’ll need to head down that path next,” said Mina as she pointed in the direction the last trest was headed. “If that guy was sent to check on the lookout, his not returning would probably cause a problem for us. The sooner we head that way, the better.”
“Ok,” Dakkon said, obliging. “Follow me.”
The corridor they would now be traveling down was directly opposite of the last one they had explored, and it was similar in design. It did not curve left or right, but it inclined upwards at a slight angle.
“If we’re really lucky,” said Dakkon, “this will be another sleeping chamber.” As the group moved forwards, Dakkon in the lead, he realized that indeed they were not so fortunate. The end of the path was brightly lit and inside goatmen were standing alert. “From what I can see,” Dakkon said after he retreated back to relay intel to his party, “there are only three goatmen in there. One looks short and fat by comparison to the ones we’ve seen, though, and he’s sitting on what I can only assume is a holy throne for the God of Luck.”
“That’s gotta be the boss,” Cline and Melee said in unison. No one suspected any differently.
“You going to be able to take any of them out with a sneak attack?” Roth asked Dakkon.
“I’m not so sure this time,” replied Dakkon. “Maybe we could let loose some animals around here and the two guards might get distracted or chase them out?”
“That’s got to be one of the worst ideas I’ve ever heard, Dakkon,” said Mina. “I doubt any of us have enough time to count the number of ways that could backfire.”
Dakkon looked thoughtful. “Well, barring any other ideas, I guess our best option is to wait for the guards to become distracted then maybe I can run up and stab one of them. The rest of the battle would have to be a fair fight—but we’re stronger now. As long as we don’t suffer any critical hits I think we can make something happen.” Dakkon was less confident about the encounter than he tried to let on.
Mina voiced Dakkon’s concerns, “We have no idea how strong that boss is. We don’t even know if the two under him are normal guards.” Mina closed her eyes for a moment and bit her upper lip. When she opened her eyes, they were determined. “But, I think we can do it. We’ve taken out 12 of them so far, so we know at most three strikes from Dakkon’s dagger should take them down. We don’t have a whole lot of time to come up with a reasonable decision, so I say we go for it.”
“Mina,” Melee said with an approving tone in her voice, “Is that really you?”
“I’m game. We’ll distract them and you stick ‘em,” Roth said with a single nod towards Dakkon.
“I’m less inclined, but I need money for a bow,” said Cline. Overcoming hopeless, death-defying fight after fight may have started to erode his sense of self-preservation. “Fine. Let’s all die together,” he added with exasperated sarcasm.
“Deal,” said Dakkon. “Actually, I’d like to make it clear that I did not just agree to a suicide pact.”
“Too late,” said Mina with a smile. “We all heard it.”
“Wow, you really are crazy.” Roth grinned.
Everyone had relaxed considerably from the exchange, save for Cline who even then looked ready to flee when the time came. Dakkon bowed his head and said, “It’s been a pleasure.” He turned and snuck to the end of the tunnel.
The room was round. Either side had its own staircase that hugged the wall leading to a raised dais where the impish boss trest sat, bored and… reading? Dakkon hadn’t noticed that on his first look. The two goatmen guards stood down and in front of the stairs, roughly 12 meters from the entrance. Having the guards turn around, and being able to cover that much ground in a few seconds… it was asking for a lot. An idea struck him, and he went back to the party after finding a small stone in the passageway. “Cline,” Dakkon asked him, “what is your dexterity? Could you hit the boss with this stone from the doorway?”
“It’s 50 right now, Dakkon,” Cline paused and thought for a moment, “I don’t know. Is that the best option we’ve got, then?”
“I think it is. Throw a stone at him. With any luck, he’ll make a noise and the guards will turn to him. That might just give me enough time to run at one,” said Dakkon. “Agility has been very good to me today. I’ll match your 50 and hope that gives us the edge we need.” He opened his character window and distributed 20 of his 35 free stat points into agility, raising it to 50. He stepped back and forth. He felt limber and incredibly comfortable, but he didn’t know exactly how fast he could move. Dakkon nodded towards Cline. “Peek, and when the two guards have their eyes anywhere other than the doorway, lean out and peg the little bastard. Wait one second after I charge in then come in to back me up.”
They played the waiting game once again. Cline crouched, patiently watching for any opening to act. The goatmen stretched, they yawned, they shifted their weight with discomfort. The beasts proved to be sentries of unexpected discipline. They waited five minutes before one turned towards the other and drew its attention. Cline leaned out of the doorway and hurled the little stone with all of his might.
Like a racer waiting for the crack of a pistol to start his sprint, Dakkon gripped the ground with anticipation. A loud *whuck* noise could be heard followed by a shrill cry, “Ahhhch!” Dakkon took off without a thought for his safety. The speed at which he sprang forward from a standstill surprised him so much that he nearly slammed into the wall. He ran with steps that sounded like a skilled chef at the chopping block, and within two seconds Dakkon had stabbed the back of the left-most guard twice.
[You have sneak attacked a trest for 550 damage.]
[You have stabbed a trest for 247 damage. Trest has been slain.]
[You have gained 1100 experience! EXP until next level 1,530/3,960]
This time the trest did not succumb from his initial sneak attack. The second stab had paid off, but Dakkon didn’t like what this meant for the party. The other guard turned and swung at him with a hatchet. To Dakkon’s surprise, he dodged the attack by the breadth of a hair and struck the beast’s arm.
[You have slashed a trest for 220 damage.]
Behind him, Dakkon could hear the appro
aching footsteps of his allies. From above he heard angry, imp-like chanting. The trest guard swiped at Dakkon from the side and he knew he could dodge the attack, but halfway through the beast’s motion, it grew.
[You have been slashed for 184 damage. Remaining HP 241/425]
Dakkon was tossed backwards, but despite the biting pain he felt, he landed nimbly on his feet. At that instant, Melee arrived with a mighty cleave from her side, throwing all the momentum of the run behind her large sword. The impact jarred the beast, and it reeled backwards. As Cline and Roth began their own assaults on the bearded fiend, blue light surged over Dakkon’s body as well as the body of the goatman.
[You have been healed for 75 hit points. Remaining HP 316/425]
The goat let out a booming, bleat of a laugh, “Bahahaha.” Larger in size than when it began the fight, and now healed, the beast was menacing. “Die,” the trest howled as it swung its axe downward at Cline but stumbled thanks to a shoulder ram from Roth.
Dakkon knew that so long as the goat was being healed from above, his party would lose the battle of attrition. He turned and ran up the rounded staircase. At the top, he was met by the short, round, and impish leader of the trest who held ready a bearded axe in one hand and a gladius in the other. Dakkon felt another surge of vitality as he lunged towards the boss.
[You have been healed for 75 hit points. Remaining HP 391/425]
Dakkon’s powerful thrust, spurned forth from his right leg, hit nothing. He had aimed at the boss’s stomach but the round trest spun with a flourish, turning the full momentum from dodging into two swift attacks against Dakkon’s chest followed by a kick to push him off balance.
[You have been slashed for 31 damage. Remaining HP 360/425]
[You have been hacked for 42 damage. Remaining HP 318/425]
[You have been kicked for 21 damage. Remaining HP 297/425]
Dakkon attempted to regain his composure as he noticed the stubby trest drop his sword from his left hand, replaced by a small—but rapidly growing—ball of fire. Dakkon’s eyes grew wide, uncertain of the power that was about to be turned against him, and he waited on the balls of his feet. As soon as the boss thrust his hand forward to loose a bolt of flame, Dakkon tumbled to the side, narrowly dodging the magic bolt and stopped right before colliding with the throne. Wanting to take advantage of the boss’s dropped sword, Dakkon quickly placed his foot on a small chest at the base of the throne and launched himself from it, slashing in a wide arc towards the little goatman, who dropped to the ground, held up his glowing hot palm that had been forming another ball of fire, and shoved it into Dakkon’s face.
[You have been burned for 131 damage. Remaining HP 166/425]
Dakkon found himself temporarily blinded, but felt the rotund trest grab him by his leg and fling him. He slammed hard into the side of the throne and the force spun him around facing the boss, lying on his belly.
[You have been slammed for 73 damage. Remaining HP 93/425]
The little beast dropped the axe he still clutched and held his hands close together. As he began to chant, electricity arced between his outstretched fingers. Dakkon knew he was preparing the killing blow. Before the goat could finish casting his spell, Dakkon rolled behind the large throne and hid. The goatman waited for five seconds, then ten, and not wanting to waste its powerful incantation, turned to the ledge and let it loose upon the remaining members of his party. Dakkon’s last chance was here and now. He sprang from behind the throne and stabbed the boss’s back as it cast its spell down beneath him.
[You have sneak attacked a trest for 577 damage.]
Wrenching out his dagger, he kicked the boss off the upraised platform with all the force he could muster.
[You have kicked a trest for 12 damage.]
Last, he jumped to follow behind the beast in its fall. As the boss’s small, round body bounced off the solid, stone ground, Dakkon landed—pinning him with his knee and driving his dagger deep.
[Critical hit! You have stabbed a trest for 826 damage. Trest has been slain.]
[You have gained 1,350 experience! EXP until next level 2,880/3,960]
[Fortune favors the bold. You have gained a rank in Heroic!]
Dakkon immediately looked at his party’s life bars. Roth and Cline were under half, but Melee was—for the second time today—easily one hit away from her end. Mina stood chanting with feverish determination. Dakkon spun his head and shoulders back around to look just in time to see Melee land a final, powerful blow that cleaved off the head of the massive goat. The head bounced and shrank back to its normal size, then its body followed suit.
[You have gained 900 experience! EXP until next level 2,780/3,960]
Mina dropped down to her knees with exhaustion. The room was still and everyone lay dead or resting.
After 10 minutes, Mina managed to heal the party back up to full power, and Cline expressed his eagerness to loot the monsters.
“Before that,” said Dakkon, “there’s something I think you all might like to see. At the foot of the throne there’s a chest. I suspect the boss was using it to climb up into the throne, with those stubby little legs of his.”
“A chest?” asked Cline.
“The chest… after a boss battle… during an event… in an unknown temple for the God of Luck?” Mina worked the pieces together aloud, still mentally drained from the focus she displayed while keeping the party alive.
“You’ve got it,” said Dakkon. “Who knows what’s in that thing?”
“While I would normally say we should loot these guys first to be on the safe side,” Roth said wryly, “I’m with you. You get to make the call after that outrageous battle you had up topside.”
“Suits me,” Melee said with a chuckle. “I about soiled myself when he shot that fireball.”
“Well, for a definitely untrapped chest…” Cline said ruefully.
The party walked up the stairs and Dakkon knelt before the little chest. They held their breath as he tugged at the lid and… it opened.
|Name: Blessed Idol of Daenara
|Item Type: Consumable
|Uses: 1
|Durability: 1/1
|Attributes: Resurrection
|Description: This idol made of blessed clay depicts the beautiful visage of Daenara, Goddess of Life. Breaking this relic will resurrect any dead NPC once.
Everyone’s eyes widened. Cline gasped aloud. Greed filled their minds. A player could resurrect a long-dead emperor, a fabled creature, or a fallen loved one. NPCs died once in Chronicle. That was the rule. This item allowed one player the chance to break that rule. The item was beyond valuable. Dakkon wanted to suggest it be given to him, but knew he would have to settle by using that luxury he had acquired for something lesser. No one would accept a flippant claim to ownership for this. “Everyone… let’s roll for it,” said Dakkon.
Though they could band together, sell the incredibly rare item, and split the proceeds amongst themselves, that path was seldom taken. If a member didn’t want to sell the item, but use it instead, it was the only way to give each person their chance. In games of this sort one item tended to go to one player, with chance as the sole arbiter.
“I guess… that’s only fair,” said Melee. Mina and Roth nodded.
“I think Dakkon should have it,” said Cline. “It only seems right. None of us would have dreamed of coming in here if it weren’t for his… I don’t even know what to call it.”
“Balls of steel?” suggested Roth.
“More like titanium,” corrected Melee.
“I agree with the sentiment, but this is something that if used wisely could make any one of us a titan, maybe even one of the most powerful players in the game,” said Mina. “At worst, the owner could sell it off and live like a king in the real world as well as here. I’ve never heard of anything like this. It’s practically cheating.”
“I don’t mind if you all roll for it,” said Dakkon. “I appreciate the gesture, but were I in your shoes I don’t t
hink I could afford to pass up on this chance. I don’t expect you to either.”
With a slightly guilty look on her face, Mina said, “Roll 1d100.” A large, virtual zocchihedron, a 100-sided die, materialized and fell to the ground. After a short tumble, the upturned number was 76.
Following suit, Melee and Roth rolled. Melee’s result was 42, while Roth scored a 36. Next up, Dakkon rolled and the room hushed as the large virtual die seemed to bounce and spin three times as long as it had for everyone else. When it settled, the number displayed was 77.
“I’ll pass on my roll,” said Cline.
Retrieving the priceless idol from the throne where it had sat as they decided who would get it, Dakkon held it lovingly in his arms. This item was his ticket to a wonderful life and he knew it. Never had he dreamt of being so lucky. He felt thankful to everyone, and doubly so to Cline. Dakkon turned, taking in a fresh breath of air, and Cline slapped him celebratorily on the shoulder. Some combination of unexpected force and stepping onto the uneven surface of a bearded axe lying on the floor caused Dakkon to topple forward, throwing the idol from the raised platform. Before anyone could feel the full pain of the loss, like a train wreck before them, the idol lay shattered on the ground.
The group tensed. Everyone wanted to scream, but none so more than Dakkon. Instead they all collectively hung their shoulders. No one was truly at fault. They had all worked hard to get to that point, and no one expected to find a relic such as that. It came into their lives and it left. Easy come, easy go.