Viridian Gate Online: Books 1 - 3 (Cataclysm, Crimson Alliance, The Jade Lord)

by James Hunter

  “Alright, I’ll figure something out,” I said. “You just get moving.”

  “Got it,” she finished before a soft click on the line told me she was gone.

  The Crafter’s Hall was at least a ten-minute walk, and since I was getting ready to embark on a quest harder than any I’d ever been on before, I decided to take a look at my stats. I had 5 Stat Points to dish out and a whopping 6 Proficiency Points squirreled away for a rainy day. Today was that rainy day. So, I pulled up my interface and toggled over to my “Character” screen:

  I’d dumped all the points from the last four levels into Spirit, Intelligence, and Dexterity, so I figured it was time to beef up a few of my other stats—I couldn’t afford to be a glass cannon. I dropped 2 points in Constitution, boosting my Stamina by 20 points, 1 into Strength, and the remaining 2 into Vitality, giving me a 20-point hike in HP. Nice. With that done, I pulled up my Shadowmancer Skill Tree screen and took a long look at my abilities.

  I had a good spread, and though I debated sinking a few Proficiency Points into some of my general skills—Medium Armor, Blunt Weapons, and Stealth—I finally decided against it. I already had a lot of amazing general skills, but my Shadowmancer abilities were one of a kind, and I needed to exploit them for all they were worth. I wanted Night Cyclone and Shadow Lord, but both of those skills were still locked down with level restrictions. My inner gamer was salivating at the possibilities they might offer, but there were still plenty of other cool abilities available.

  First, though, I decided to beef up my tried-and-true skills. Go with what works, I always say.

  Shadow Stride—my hands down favorite spell and all-around lifesaver—earned another point, bringing it up to the Journeyman level. Unfortunately, the Spirit cost jumped from 150 to 175, but the benefits also adjusted accordingly. Now, I could spend a full minute in the Shadowverse, the cooldown time dropped to 25 seconds, and my Health-Regen rate increased by 20% while Shadow Striding. Even better, my Spirit-Regen rate also rose to 20%. A definite bonus, since I couldn’t use Regen potions in the Shadowverse.

  Next, I decided to drop 1 point into the Astral Connection ability. Other than Shadow Stride, Devil was my single greatest asset, and though Nikko the chimp was still untested, I had high, high hopes for her—especially since I could summon her and Devil at the same time. I was already thinking about all the ways I could twist that loophole to my advantage.

  <<<>>>

  Skill: Astral Connection

  A Shadowmancer’s Void Terror minions are valuable assets, which can shift the tide of battle when utilized correctly. But Eldgard is a hard and dangerous place even for the deadly creatures of the Shadowverse. With the Astral Connection ability, however, summoned Void Terrors become far more resilient—increasing power, strength, duration, and EXP gain—while also reducing cooldown requirements. At higher levels, the Astral Connection skill also converts a portion of all damage done by the Void Terror into Spirit for the Shadowmancer and adds additional elemental damage to some Void Terrors.

  Skill Type/Level: Passive/Initiate

  Cost: None

  Range: N/A

  Cast Time: N/A

  Cooldown: N/A

  Effect 1: Void Terror Base Damage increased by 10%

  Effect 2: Void Terror Base Armor increased by 10%

  Effect 3: Void Terror receives +300 EXP per kill

  <<<>>>

  I read over the Astral Connection description and felt pretty confident in the choice—Devil and Nikko would pack even more of a punch. I couldn’t even imagine what kind of damage they’d be capable of once I pushed Astral Connection to the Grandmaster level. That left me with 4 points, and I already knew what I wanted to spend two of them on:

  <<<>>>

  Skill: Shadow Forge

  As a champion of the Shadow Pantheon—the native gods and goddesses of Eldgard—the Shadowmancer can call upon the powers of darkness and shadow to aid those in their party. Friendly forces find their weapons temporarily sheathed in shadow, which adds extra shadow damage to every strike while also increasing focus and battle prowess. Shadowmancers with the Shadow Forge ability can also permanently imbue weapons or armor with additional shadow damage or shadow resistance.

  Skill Type/Level: Aura/Initiate

  Cost: 450 Spirit; duration, 20 minutes.

  Range: 10 Meters

  Cast Time: Instant

  Cooldown: N/A

  Effect 1: Critical Hit increased by 3% for all friendly players in the area of effect (30 Meters).

  Effect 2: +50 points of Shadow Damage to all friendly players in the area of effect (30 Meters).

  Effect 3: Permanently imbue weapons with +20 points of Shadow Damage + (.1 x Character Level). Requires an open enchantment slot.

  Effect 4: Permanently imbue armor, shields, or jewelry with +10% Shadow Resistance + (.1 x Character Level). Requires an open enchantment slot.

  <<<>>>

  Skill: Umbra Flame

  Tap into the dormant power of the Shadowverse and conjure a ferocious gout of shadow flame, scorching nearby opponents with a powerful attack that deals a combination of shadow and fire damage.

  Skill Type/Level: Spell/Initiate

  Cost: 75 Spirit/Sec

  Range: 10 Meters (Short-Range)

  Cast Time: Instant

  Cooldown: N/A

  Effect: Shadow Damage (300% x Spell Strength).

  Effect 2: Fire Damage (25% x Spell Strength) + 5 pts Burn Damage/sec; duration, 10 seconds.

  <<<>>>

  I rubbed my hands in gamer glee at the new tools now tucked away in my belt.

  Shadow Forge seemed like it had some real promise. First, it rocked as an offensive aura and there wasn’t any restriction about how many auras I could activate at a given time, which meant I could equip both Shadow Forge and Night Armor. And on top of that, the ability to imbue weapons and armor with shadow-related effects would be a real benefit to the faction.

  As to Umbra Flame—I’d already seen that in action, since it was one of Devil’s primary special attacks. It was powerful and as dangerous as a pack of hungry mountain wolves. True, it was expensive and only seemed useful at short to medium range, but it would add some nice diversity to my character, especially with the added fire damage. Shadow Damage was great, since a significant portion of it ignored armor, but I’d already run across several creatures who were invulnerable to Shadow Damage—like the Moss Hag I’d killed to earn my place as a Maa-Tál. With Umbra Flame in my back pocket, I’d finally have some options.

  That left me with 2 unspent points, but that was fine. Proficiency Points were too valuable to blow on a whim.

  Satisfied, I closed out of my interface and ambled for a few more minutes, eventually ending up at one of the newer sections of the ever-growing city. Most of the shops and homes in Yunnam were odd things, each sitting high above the ground, perched on wooden stilts as a safeguard against the monsoon rains that swept through the Storme Marshes late in the fall. The native buildings were constructed from a mix of wood, mud, and palm fronds, all held together by swathes of luminescent moss and gobs and gobs of gossamer spider webbing. Everything was built from materials readily available here in the Marshes and resilient against the sweltering heat and persistent moisture.

  That was starting to change, however. At least in the newer quarters.

  Traditional buildings of brick and stone, showing off gracefully arched ceramic roofs, were popping up in little clusters away from the town’s center. Nice places, though I doubted how well they’d hold up against the torrential rains, which could drop over twelve inches of water in the span of an hour. I skirted around a few hulking moss-covered trees and angled for one of the newer buildings: a rectangular, two-story structure with a high stone foundation raising the main building several feet from the ground. A variety of outdoor work spaces, a large stable—mostly used for shipping—and a pair of circular towers flanked the main building:

  The Crafter’s Guild Hall.

&
nbsp; FOURTEEN: The Crafter’s Hall

  There was a workshop up at the Keep for faction use, but many of the crafters had taken it upon themselves to make their own place. A mini guild with its own rules, governed by its own officers, existing within the Crimson Alliance. Vlad, of course, was one of the founding members. How could he not be? I padded up a set of dirt-covered wooden steps, then shouldered my way into the main hall through a pair of fat double doors covered with glimmering wards. I hadn’t seen the wards in action yet, but Vlad assured me the runes and sigils, when activated, would alchemically transform the wood into nearly indestructible stone.

  I paused inside the entryway, surveying the room: the Crafter’s Guild Hall was rocking and rolling.

  Lowbies, clad in beginners’ gear and leather aprons, scurried around the main hall with speed and intensity—carrying items and running errands—many with panicked, almost frightened, looks carved into their features. From what I’d heard, Vlad and his boys ran a pretty tight ship around here: someone wanted to be a member? Well, they were expected to work often, and work hard. New members paid their dues in blood, sweat, and coin before ever getting a chance at proper membership. All those rare ingredients didn’t just fetch themselves, after all.

  “Jack,” Cutter called, battling to be heard over the clamor of the workshop. He was leaning casually against the wall to the left, one foot propped up, absently picking at his nails with a dark blade.

  “Hey,” I replied, heading over and clapping him on the shoulder. “You got here quick. That’s unusual. You listening, I mean.”

  He snorted and rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t being a good little follower, if that’s what you’re getting at, friend. I was on my way over here anyway when I got your message. Since I had some time, I figured I’d get my gear upgraded before we left. What’s the point of having these new Weapon and Armor faction skills if we don’t use ’em, eh? Come on.” He bobbed his head toward the wing housing the smithy—all red brick and black swamp rock, outfitted with everything a potential crafter could ever want or need. We cut across the main hall, narrowly avoiding the frantic apprentices, who offered us cordial nods and overly polite greetings.

  The smithy itself was hotter than a sauna. Way, way hotter. Heck, the brick-lined room was like being inside an oven on the sun.

  There were metal-topped workstations, great steel-ribbed barrels brimming with water, bulky stone grinding wheels, pitted iron anvils, and tools of every shape and size hanging from the walls: steel tongs, heavy hammers, grooved swages, vises, rasps, and files in all styles and flavors. Only a handful of men and women were actually working here, though. A Wode labored over a steel breastplate, sweating profusely. A broad-shouldered Dawn Elf woman, taller than me, tanned leather against a rack on the far side of the room. A Dwarf, a squat cube of muscle and fat, pumped a huge pair of bellows near a circular smelter.

  “Forge,” Cutter called, heading over to a fourth man, a bulky Risi working on a double-edged battle-axe. The Risi glanced up, an ugly grin breaking across his bluff face, revealing oversized fangs just a tad on the yellow side. He had a thin Mohawk racing down his head, tree-trunk-sized arms, and was built like a post-apocalyptic brick shithouse. Even without his spiked armor in place, he still looked like he belonged in one of those classic Mad Max flicks. “God you’re an ugly bastard,” Cutter said with a smirk, inspecting the warrior.

  “Like I care about your opinion,” Forge grunted. “I’d rather look like a dried-out dog turd than some fancy-pants pretty boy. ’Sides, women like the way I look and that’s all that matters.” He offered a lopsided smile and picked up the axe, inspecting the gleaming razor-edged blade. “Hot damn, that’s good work,” he murmured, gently setting the axe back down like it was a fragile piece of glass. He ran a finger down the handle of the weapon, nodded his approval, then shuffled over to Cutter, offering the thief a fierce bear hug.

  “Gaw, you smell like a dirty armpit stuffed inside an old boot,” Cutter said, though he returned the hug. The two had an odd relationship, but they seemed almost like kindred souls. In a weird sort of way, it made sense. Forge was a hard-charging, flag-waving former Marine from Texas, and he was almost as rough around the edges as Cutter. He also drank like a fish—one of Cutter’s favorite pastimes—and gambled like a Pai Gow player in Atlantic City. Naturally, Cutter’s other favorite pastime was gambling … Well, besides stealing.

  Yep, two peas in a pod, were Cutter and Forge.

  For all of that, though, Forge was a good guy deep down.

  And I owed him.

  He’d saved my ass big time during my dust-up with Carrera. The guy had taken a metaphorical bullet for me.

  Forge set Cutter down, then turned his muddy gaze on me, his head cocked sideways, his grin widening as he charged me. “Jack,” he said, plowing into me like a bulldozer and lifting me into the air, the strength of his ferocious hug nearly breaking bones. My face wrinkled as I caught a whiff of the fighter-turned-blacksmith—Cutter was right, he did smell. The guy reeked like a mix of wet dog and sour BO. “It’s good to see you, Boss,” he said, setting me back on the ground, then slapping me hard on the shoulder and holding me at arm’s length. “You’ve been too busy on the wall. Thought we were going to lose you for good to the bureaucratic machine.”

  “Not if I can help it,” I replied with a small wince.

  “So, what brings you two out here, anyway?” he asked. “Don’t suppose you’re finally thinking about acquiring a crafting profession? I’m telling you, brawling might be fun, but crafting’s where it’s at. I’ve been alternating between here and the mines, and it’s been paying off big time. Huge level gains. Decent paycheck.”

  “Naw, nothing like that,” Cutter replied. “Me and the fearless leader”—he hooked a thumb at me—“are heading out on a long quest. Big one. Lots of gold, lots of loot, lots of danger.” He paused and pulled his twin daggers from his belt, giving them an artful twirl. “Don’t suppose you could work some magic on our weapons and armor, eh? Get us kitted out right and proper before we go?”

  Forge frowned, eyeing the blades. “I’m slammed with requests, but for you two? Anything.”

  “I don’t suppose anything would include tagging along on this top-secret quest?” I hedged. “Cutter’s right—this is a big mission, and with Otto up north, I’m short a reliable tank. I honestly can’t think of anyone else I’d rather have in my corner.” I paused and leaned closer, dropping my voice to a whisper. “Really, there’s no one else I’d trust with this. It’s big, Forge. A game-changer. There’s lots of money to be made on this and you’d get a full cut.”

  “You mean it?” he asked, rubbing thoughtfully at his square chin. “That’d be great, Jack. Great. And like I told you before, you ever need someone, I’ve got your back. And I can tank, alright—I’m the toughest sumabitch in Bell County, and I aim to prove I’m the toughest sumabitch in Yunnam. Hell, I could use a break, anyway. Vlad’s a friggin’ slave driver. Guy’s worse than any drill instructor I ever seen. Cutter’s right, though, if we’ve got a dangerous mission, you two oughta be outfitted with the best you can get—these new faction skills, they’re absolutely tits. Was that your work, Jack?” he asked, cocking a bushy brow at me.

  I nodded.

  “Well, it’s much appreciated down here in the trenches, lemme tell you what. Mind if I show you?” He nodded at the warhammer hanging from my belt.

  I ran a hand over my weapon, feeling the delicate runes etched into the metal. A beautiful hammer of black forged steel with shadowy runes of violet power crawling up the haft and twirling around its blunt face. My fingers lingered on the cruel spike extending from the back, before moving on to the smaller spike jutting from the top of the weapon like a pointing finger. “The upgrades … they’re not going to damage it, right? I mean, this thing is an Ancient Artifact item. Ancient. Artifact. Super rare and scaling.”

  Forge frowned, yellow teeth protruding from the corners of his mouth, then waved away my concern. �
��Naw, though it will prevent anyone who isn’t a Crimson Alliance faction member from using it—so if you wanna sell it on the Black Market you might reconsider. Otherwise …” He shrugged and shook his head.

  Reluctantly, I slipped the weapon free and handed it over.

  “Don’t worry, this’ll only take a second. Forging a new item takes a good chunk of time and so does intensive repair work, but this is just a few minor inscriptions and some gem bindings. As straightforward as a Texas highway. It’s crazy,” he said, setting my hammer onto the workbench, then dropping onto a wooden stool. “I woke up this morning and all this new knowledge was just inside my head. Sorta like this was something I always knew how to do, but forgot for some reason.” He paused, picking up a small chisel with a wooden bulb-shaped handle attached to a length of sharpened steel.

  “But it all came flooding back to me in a blink. It’s like I’ve been engraving magical weapons since before I could walk. It’s all muscle memory now.” He paused, the tip of his tongue sticking out while his chisel etched flowing script into the darkened steel hammer. Forge canted his head to the side, eyes squinted, as his hands moved automatically, carving new runes alongside the old with an unnatural confidence and ease. Cutter and I both watched in silent fascination. After only a few minutes, Forge set the wood-handled tool down on the workbench, leaned back, and blew on the weapon, scattering a fine layer of metal shavings.

  The new script—elegant and somehow complementary to the symbols already present on the weapon—flashed and burned with a scarlet fire. “Almost done,” he said, wiping a hand across a sweat-drenched brow. “Now it just needs a few of these bad boys.” He fished three rubies, each the size of a dime, from a crude leather pouch at his belt. “That last bit bound the weapon to the faction, but these’ll grant you an extra enchantment slot.” He casually set the gems down and picked up a larger-grade chisel and a small double-sided hammer—one end sported a metal face, the other was made of brown rubber.