First Login

by Kevin Murphy

  It was cathartic to see Nightshade once again, even for a brief time. With the knowledge that his horse was doing well, Dakkon made sure to pay for another week’s stabling fees in advance. When the two adventurers set out, Dakkon was a little saddened to leave Nightshade cooped up once again, but he could be damned if he’d let a krimmer rush his horse.

  It only took a few minutes of searching along the streets to find the tavern Finnegan was holed up in. The bard sat drunk, on a stool in front of a wooden bar top, arguing loudly with some other patron about who the better lutist was. Before the situation had a chance to escalate into a time-draining throw down between the two, Dakkon and Damak stepped in and dragged their companion off.

  “Finnegan,” said Dakkon. “Weren’t you supposed to be—I don’t know—spreading rumors for the plan?”

  Finnegan walked on his own down the road, waving away the supporting arm of Damak. “Don’t bother yourself getting worked up,” the bard said with a fading slur. “The message got out—loud and clear. I assure you.”

  There wasn’t much to be done about it. If Finnegan had played around the entire night, they couldn’t fix the problem now, and by the following day enough people would have figured out the ruse to stir up a king-sized ruckus that they’d all rather avoid. They would have to proceed as they had planned. There wouldn’t be another opportunity.

  As they neared the south side of Tian, the streets began to feel awfully lively for an early morning such as it was. A few extra people turned into packs of them. By the time the collection stalls were in view, they could see the truth of the situation. The south end was packed. Hundreds of players moved about in a swarming mass, surging this way and that as they attempted to cobble together hunting parties.

  “Holy shit,” the words slipped from Dakkon’s mouth. He wore a dumbfounded expression plastered on his face. “Sorry to have doubted you, Finnegan. Good work.”

  Damak nodded with a sort of respectful awe and patted the bard’s back. If the rapidly sobering Finnegan was pleased by his work or the praise, he played it off coolly.

  “I guess we had better get to it,” said Dakkon. Despite the spectacle before them, they had hunting to get to.

  The three hurried towards Letis’s stall to reclaim their cart. When they arrived, no fewer than 50 people were queued with carts ready, waiting as Letis scrambled to accommodate them. The three recovered their own cart, sent word to Ramses, then headed to their rogue’s location.

  Ramses was waiting only about 60 meters from the commotion around Letis’s stall, hidden by the shroud of brush and trees. He still had the red player killer’s mark on his cheek and, reasonably, didn’t want to draw unnecessary attention to himself.

  “We’ll have to go deeper into the forest,” said Ramses. “The stragglers on the edge that we’ve been hunting are all gone.”

  “And the day’s only just begun,” said Dakkon, shaking his head.

  “It’s much more dangerous deeper inward,” cautioned Damak. “Krimmer are mostly grouped up. Besides the pigs, there are some other nasty creatures out and about, and it’s not impossible that we even run into the Tribe.”

  “The Tribe?” asked Dakkon.

  “They’re kind of like Tian’s angry neighbors,” said Ramses.

  “They’re mean little bastards is what they are,” said Damak. “I’ve seen one kill a group of five.”

  A more detailed explanation of ‘the Tribe’ would probably need to wait. The competition for hunting krimmer would soon push out deeper into the forest much as the party planned to do. If they wanted to hunt boars while they still could, they’d have to get started. “What about bandits?” asked Dakkon.

  “This area is too dangerous for bandits,” said Ramses, who waved his hand dismissively.

  “All right, so then we’ll be careful about everything else,” said Dakkon dryly. “Onwards toward adventure.” He began to walk.

  “If we eat it, I’ll compose an excellent ballad about your poor judgement and pervasive foul odor that’s certain to be a hit,” said the now fully sober Finnegan in a tone which could very possibly have been a joke. Uncertain why exactly he deserved the gibe, but suspecting that on some level this was all his doing, Dakkon covertly sniffed himself. Perhaps the bard was upset by his previous lack of faith?

  “Well then, you’d better add a few lines about my slow wit and tendency to faint during a confrontation,” added Dakkon with a similar delivery.

  “Noted,” said Finnegan without cracking a smile. Damak grinned.

  “Damn, we’d better stay alive,” thought Dakkon. “I’m literally asking for it otherwise.” Dakkon shook his head and the group set off.

  Wading into deeper forest was, indeed, wading into deeper danger. The first krimmer that they encountered brought along another big boar to the fight. To everyone’s credit, even with the secondary creature’s unexpected arrival, not one faltered. Damak managed to take several glancing blows from the additional krimmer by bracing his shield at a 45-degree angle from the incoming charges, then jumping out of the way right as the monster connected with his battered shield—spinning the warrior but ensuring he absorbed little of the beast’s assault head-on.

  Ramses and Dakkon were strong enough now that they, without the help of others, could fell a boar with their coordinated strikes. They finished their work in an instant and turned to strike at Damak’s beast. Finnegan even managed a few beginning notes of the battle hymn he had been itching to perform, but sighed as the second krimmer quickly dropped.

  “Maybe next time,” said Ramses, placing a heavy hand on the bard’s back.

  The group of four pushed onwards. Their next encounter could be two boars or more, though it was difficult to be certain in the intermittently thick clumps of forest surrounding them. Like clockwork, Finnegan began to pacify one krimmer as Damak charged toward the second before it had a chance to build any real momentum. This time, however, before Dakkon and Ramses were close enough to strike, Finnegan’s tune ended with a twang and an, “Urk!” The krimmer, only a step away, shook off the music’s effect and with a twist of its mighty head, flailed wildly.

  [Krimmer has struck you for 140 damage. Remaining HP 510/650]

  Dakkon tumbled backwards, taken off guard by the beast’s sudden shift to hostility. Ramses had been thrown backwards, too, though he managed to sprawl to stop his roll sooner than Dakkon. This may have not been to his advantage, however, as he became the closest target for the massive boar’s rage.

  Dakkon recovered to his knees some 20 paces backward. He wasn’t used to taking hits like that—or at all, really. His head rang with dull pain.

  Dakkon looked towards Finnegan to figure out what happened, but only managed to see one of the bard’s legs for a brief instant before it disappeared into the obfuscation of the tree tops. Dakkon knew that Finnegan needed help, but the two angry krimmer would likely kill Ramses and Damak if he went after the bard now. Dakkon gritted his teeth and charged toward the boar that had sent him flying.

  The krimmer had not wasted any time in pursuing the nearby rogue, and was nearly upon him. Not one to idle either, Ramses threw a hand-full of dirt at the beast’s face. The krimmer huffed and shook violently, clearly surprised by the assault on its senses. Dakkon used the opening to strike at the beast’s backside with two, practiced swipes—

  [You have slashed a krimmer in a vulnerable location for 500 damage.]

  [You have slashed a krimmer for 233 damage.]

  —but this krimmer was not caught unaware and used the force of a several-hundred kilo rump to bat Dakkon away.

  [Krimmer has kicked you for 352 damage. Remaining HP 298/650]

  Another kick from the boar would prove fatal. Dakkon’s head swam from the force of being knocked ass over teakettle twice in half a minute. Through some force of will, Dakkon focused on the opponent before him. Ramses struck out at the boar’s backside, much in the same way Dakkon had just done. He wisely attempted only a single strike, however, th
en pulled back to avoid any recourse. Dakkon moved to flank the krimmer, but as soon as the beast lost sight of Dakkon, it charged at Ramses to avoid another painful swipe at its hind.

  The loud thud of a solid strike rang out as the second krimmer finally caught Damak’s shield squarely, splintering its wood and warping the iron bands which held it together. Damak was thrown backwards—his arms, which had both been bracing the shield, were blown aside, twisted, bloodied, and broken. Somehow, perhaps thanks to the superhuman endurance that the game granted him, he landed on his feet. The sight was shocking, but Dakkon knew he had little time to act.

  “Attack now!” Dakkon ran at the boar they had been engaged with as he yelled to Ramses. He marked a tender portion of the boar’s rump which had been previously struck and created a condensed hotspot. The two close-range combatants were almost upon the beast when it flailed frantically then turned away from his assailants, a burning ember visible on its backside. Rogue and edgemaster plunged their daggers into the krimmer’s back with desperate fervor.

  [You have stabbed a krimmer in a vulnerable location for 512 damage. A krimmer has been slain.]

  [You have gained 620 experience! EXP until next level 3,086/6,380]

  The two backstabbers turned on their heels and sprinted toward their companion’s boar without so much as reading the confirmation of their kill. As they reached the boar, they struck at its exposed underbelly with precision honed from repetition as the stubborn warrior kicked the boar square in its nose.

  [You have slashed a krimmer in a vulnerable location for 499 damage.]

  [You have stabbed a krimmer in a vulnerable location for 530 damage. A krimmer has been slain.]

  [You have gained 620 experience! EXP until next level 3,706/6,380]

  “Damn man,” said Dakkon to the mangled Damak, “are you ok?”

  “Never mind me,” said Damak. “Finn needs help and I’m not climbing any trees like this.”

  Eyes wide from the sight of human arms bent at new angles, Dakkon nodded, then Ramses and he ran toward the approximate location of where Finnegan had disappeared and they set to climbing separate trees.

  Dakkon found climbing to be easier than he had expected. The trunk of the tree before him was too wide to get his arms fully around it, and there were no low-hanging branches to assist him. Still, by gripping with his thighs and calves then with his arms, one after the other, he was surprised to find that he could climb the thick trunk. Despite the initial ease, after only about three meters of progress, Dakkon’s body ached from the effort. He had used all of his mana to be sure his earlier hotspot had worked on the thick-skinned krimmer, and now he suspected that he might be low or out of endurance.

  [Trait unlocked! You treat the world as your ladder. You have gained the Trait: Climber]

  Dakkon painfully climbed the final meter to the bottom of the canopy where he hoped to find any relief to recover. Struggling for every bit of height he gained, the weary edgemaster finally grabbed the perpendicular purchase of a sturdy limb. Then, though no simple feat, he pulled himself up and onto the branch.

  [Through struggle, you manage to elevate yourself. You have gained a rank in Climber!]

  Dakkon heaved desperately. Each breath replenished his reserves a little, but he had no time to wait. The canopy was thick and he couldn’t see or hear Finnegan. Dakkon clawed upward and between trees to where branches crossed and there he saw it.

  What had grabbed Finnegan—and likely gripped him still—was a snake easily over 10 meters long. It was fatter towards its head which fanned out in a similar manner to a cobra, though the shape was more like a miter or arrowhead. The head of the snake was wider than Dakkon’s torso, and the rest of its body slowly tapered in size. Only certain sections of the creature were visible as it was coiled around and squeezing something—Finnegan being the smart bet.

  The creature was overgrown and far too big for Dakkon to handle, and he knew it. The snake eyed him with cold eyes, unthreatened and unconcerned that the tiny challenger might try to take his meal. Rustling could be heard from the direction of another tree and the vibrations caused the snake to look around warily. In an instant, Dakkon made up his mind. He lunged at the snake’s head, stabbing the coil of scales and muscle as he gripped onto it with his thighs and calves, much as he had on his ascent up the tree. The snake flailed, unable to bite Dakkon where he clung. The creature whipped Dakkon into a tree abruptly as Ramses showed up.

  [Seren binder has struck you for 64 damage. Remaining HP 234/650]

  [You have collided with a tree for 73 damage. Remaining HP 161/650]

  “Holy shit!” exclaimed Ramses.

  The arrival of a third person, along with a dagger inside it, shifted the serpent’s priorities. It rapidly uncoiled and began to squirm away.

  “Make sure Finn doesn’t drop,” shouted Dakkon, though he knew he should be more concerned about himself falling as the snake shot away from the location of their encounter, slithering between branches. Dakkon braced himself for the raking of leaves and branches as he hung on. Letting go may as well have meant falling from the trees. The snake tore through the treetops, desperately trying to shake off and be rid of the nuisance still holding onto it.

  [The burdens of travel become milder. You have gained a rank in Rider!]

  Immediately after the message appeared, nearly a minute into the snake’s erratic flight, Dakkon and dagger were scraped from the creature’s back as the massive snake rounded a trunk.

  [You have been slammed for 122 points of damage. Remaining HP 39/650]

  Dakkon wildly grabbed for a branch, unable to fully grip it while holding his dagger. The branch slipped from his grasp and he fell downward. His body lurched as his feet struck a branch about a meter below, and Dakkon stabbed his dagger into the tree’s trunk to help stabilize himself.

  As Dakkon started descending from his snake-riding adrenaline rush, he descended the tree as well. When at the bottom of the arboreal ladder, he looked around to get his bearing. He had been carried some ways from where he had fought and needed to backtrack while avoiding the attention of large boars, snakes, and anything else if he wanted to make it out safely. Dakkon wasn’t certain which direction he had been taken due to the wild nature of the snake’s treetop flight, but he figured he could at least walk in the opposite direction of where the snake seemed to be heading. It was all he had to go on. Dakkon hadn’t considered that he might end up lost and alone when he jumped on the snake—he mostly expected to be ejected from the game and barred for 11 hours before reappearing in the inn where Damak and he had collected Finnegan earlier in the day.

  His guess was correct. After a few minutes, Dakkon was happy to find that his decision about where to head was a good one. Dakkon saw Finnegan and Damak, both seated, unmoving, with backs pressed against the trunks of trees. Dakkon moved toward them and Ramses jumped out of some nearby brush, startling him.

  “You rode a snake!” Rameses exclaimed in a voice loud enough to cause the two seated men to stir in mild alarm.

  “So, Finnegan’s ok?” Dakkon asked.

  “Who cares about that!” exclaimed Ramses. “You rode a fucking snake! That was the single most metal thing I’ve ever seen.”

  Ramses slammed his hand against Dakkon’s back in two quick, appreciative, yet painful, thwacks.

  [Ramses has struck you for 8 damage. Remaining HP 31/650]

  [Ramses has struck you for 8 damage. Remaining HP 23/650]

  “Woah, cut it out,” said Dakkon with calming hands upraised. “I’m on my last legs here.”

  “Damn I wish I had been recording. That was sweet,” Ramses said, shaking with excitement.

  “You can ride the next one,” Dakkon said while he pulled out a ration of dried meat and a flask of water to kickstart his regeneration. Then, after a few bites and a couple of swigs, he walked up to Finnegan and Damak. “You two look like hell,” Dakkon said to the seated pair.

  “You know, I think I will write a song about yo
u after all,” said Finnegan darkly before breaking into a smile.

  “I’m shocked that thing didn’t crush you to death,” Dakkon remarked.

  “Me too,” the bard replied. “It didn’t really squeeze me much at all. I think it must have been trying to suffocate me.”

  “Maybe it doesn’t like crushed food,” suggested Ramses, which earned him a stare from the seated men.

  “Damak, how are the stumps?” Dakkon asked while examining Damak’s arms. They had already healed significantly from Damak’s short rest. Had this been the real world, the recovery speed would have been nothing short of miraculous.

  “They’ll be fine in a few more minutes,” said Damak as, before their very eyes, a broken bone snapped back into its proper place. “The shield’s done for though.”

  Dakkon recoiled slightly from the alien sight of human flesh and bone rapidly mending itself and was happy to check out the distraction of Damak’s splintered shield.

  “I don’t suppose you’ve got a spare?” asked Dakkon.

  “No,” replied the stout warrior. “One of them is enough to lug around, I assure you.”

  Dakkon was prepared to overlook the fact that they had brought a cart with them which could easily act as Damak’s personal shield repository, should it be necessary. The inventory system in Chronicle didn’t penalize players much for extra weight in their bags, either. Damak must be saying he’s broke in his own way. The warrior had just lost his personal gear for the sake of the party. It must be expensive to play a tank.

  “Are we going to keep fighting or should we regroup, re-gear, and invite a healer and ranged damage dealer?” asked Ramses.