Noob Game Plus

by Ryan Rimmel

  Hardragon was his name. He was doubled up on the ground, spitting out blood. I managed one step toward him, before he stood back up. I thought he was shocked. I didn’t have a chance to move in, though. He immediately roared again. This time, it was more potent than the first or, maybe, the temple was just in worse shape. I remembered seeing the nose of his helmet shatter, right before I exploded through a wall. I got unsteadily to my feet, blood pouring from both ears. The entire temple began to shake.

  The ground beneath me split open, and I started to fall. I braced myself to jump, but a massive hunk of stone struck me. Everything went dark, as I tumbled down.

  Chapter 30 – Aftermath

  The elf’s eyebrows were just about to the peak of his head by the time the rumbling stopped. The majestic Temple of Rogers, the temple Twinkle’s grandfather had called old, had collapsed. The entirety of the building had fallen into the ruins it had been built upon.

  Checking on his party nearly made him gag. Maggie was grabbing onto a handrail with the hand attached to her broken wrist. With one massive, noisy jerk, she managed to set it. She next produced a syringe full of healing potion. Using her foot and other ruined wrist, she injected half the contents into the wound. She quivered as the healing kicked in. From there, she began working on her other hand.

  “Enjoying the show?” she asked, as Twinkle turned his head away, already green. Humans were disgusting, no matter how you sliced it.

  Hardragon was still heaving. He’d used his talent twice. Twinkle hadn’t even known that was possible. Filing that knowledge away for later, the elf pulled out a Restoration potion and handed it to the human. It was such a waste, using a full elven potion on a mere human. However, Twinkle hadn’t thought to stock up on human swill, and a good dog deserved a treat.

  “Did anyone get experience?” Hardragon hissed in a hoarse whisper. Twinkle tried not to smirk. Judging by Hardragon’s expression, he failed. Oh, well. The commander’s current voice sounded like a lich that was suffering from strep.

  Twinkle checked his experience log and noticed that he didn’t have any. At least, not yet. “He’s probably pinned down there, getting crushed to death.”

  “Do we need to go down and finish the job?” asked Maggie, concerned. Twinkle glanced her way and regretted it. She had the syringe in her other forearm and was flexing fingers. Occasionally, she would inject more healing potion. Upon close inspection, she decided one of her fingers had not healed right. She twisted it until the bone cracked and gave it a quick injection.

  As an elf, Twinkle had a constant low-level Regeneration that befitted his long-lived status. His wounds would heal true, restoring his body to its perfect, original glory. He could already feel the bones in his arm repairing themselves. It was only a matter of time. Considering that, Twinkle activated the Hair Styling skill that all elves practiced. He watched as loops of hair formed into a proper network. Checking the elaborate style, Twinkle sighed. It was good to feel like a man again.

  Within moments, he was back to the usual level of perfection that he demanded of himself. It was a good thing, too, because Twinkle heard several sets of footsteps heading toward them. It wouldn’t do to appear ragged in front of the incoming dolts. Jabbing Hardragon in the side, Twinkle turned to face his most and least favorite team members.

  Phillip was a massive brute of a human. He always acted before thinking, and he had so much body hair. Phillip smelled terrible, was gruff, and, generally, fit every stereotype of what a human was in the eyes of the elves. Out of everyone on the team, Twinkle liked Phillip the most.

  Su-Kar was there, too. Twinkle immediately noticed all the work she’d had done. The clear lines of cosmetic healing were fresh. Twinkle grinned at her, and she gave him a death glare back. Su-Kar liked to think that she was cultured. She wasn’t.

  Between the two of them was the haggard-looking princess.

  “She escaped?” gasped Hardragon, as he struggled to straighten up. Phillip looked concerned, Maggie looked bored, and Su-Kar was scheming, as usual.

  “Found her just outside the hideout,” stated Phillip. “With the bodyguard gone, she is much easier to get.”

  “Is he dead?” Su-Kar asked. Her voice carried more heat than Twinkle would have expected.

  “I just got the experience for him. He’s not getting out of there,” grinned Maggie.

  Twinkle checked his log. He, likewise, had a heaping pile of experience. It represented more than half a level. It really was a shame that there were not more Remorts around. Then again, he still felt a slight twinge in his arm. He decided that one Remort was probably enough. The thought of a properly equipped O’Really was outright terrifying.

  The princess choked back a sob. Twinkle rolled his eyes. Humans died so quickly, anyway. What did a few years sooner than anticipated really matter?

  Maggie just nodded. “Her bodyguard is dead, and we captured the princess. I’m guessing I’m not needed anymore?” She spoke to them all, but only Hardragon’s opinion mattered here. He looked up at the princess. Tears were pouring down her cheeks, as she silently sobbed. Hardragon nodded.

  “Well, I’m off to the Riverlands. I have to go visit someone.” Maggie grinned at the princess and turned away. Twinkle considered that. If Maggie had been part of the permanent team, Twinkle knew she would have been at the top of his list of disliked people. He almost felt sorry for the poor dog that the boss had ordered Maggie to kill next. Almost. The target was probably human, and it was tough to get worked up for one of those. Maggie turned back and grinned at him, her usual grin without any joy in it. Then, she vanished.

  Hardragon gestured for the rest of them to get closer, before he began to hoarsely whisper out the plan. The goal was as expected. They were going to be leaving soon and heading to the old temple up north. If they hurried, it was a day and a half of walking through the woods.

  Twinkle groaned. Elves had no business being in the dirty woods.

  Chapter 31 – Buried Alive

  It was dark. Not the regular kind of dark either. It was that pitch-black darkness that you only get when you are so far underground that even the vague notion of light seems like a joke. Even with my heightened senses, all I could perceive was the piddly distance around my head.

  I figured I was about a mile underground, give or take, with an entire temple smashing deep into my back. I couldn’t get my feet appropriately positioned to be able to push back without significant difficulty. I was annoyed. If I were going to be crushed to death, I’d like to be comfortable while it happened. More annoying was the message I was currently receiving:

  ● You are trapped. You are unable to escape without assistance. If this condition persists, you will eventually perish.

  I tried to shift the rubble at my feet again, but that only caused my Stamina to drop further. A large, uneven rock was wedged between my knees, keeping me from shifting in any way that would help support the weight. Without semi-stable footing, I was continually taking both Health and Stamina Damage, which was preventing my Healing magic from working correctly.

  The Regeneration spell worked, in fits and starts. A conventional healing spell would have had problems. If I’d tried to cast it, it probably would have deformed my back. Regeneration restored your body to ‘normal’ but only worked for a few seconds at a time in conditions like this.

  “What the hell happened?” I yelled. I had been winning right up until I wasn’t. I couldn’t figure out how that asshole had managed to blast me with whatever that was.

  “He was using a trait,” stated Shart evenly.

  “What kind of trait?” I asked, casting another Regeneration spell that immediately fizzled out. The spell’s current record was 9 seconds.

  “He Roared,” said Shart. “Some people have Roar traits. They are rare, ranked traits.”

  “Is that like Magical Yelling?” I questioned.

  “It is not like magical yelling!” screamed Shart. “It’s not used for communication, just blasting yo
u into things,”

  I grunted. Magical Yelling had defeated me. Somehow, I always knew it would. “Welp, I’ve dreaded dying while trapped in a deep, dark hole ever since the mine incident,” I replied. “Do you have any ideas on how we can get out of this?”

  “I’m still working on it,” replied Shart. “I don’t suppose it occurred to you to check your character sheet?”

  That always seemed to be the go-to response when Shart didn’t have any ideas. Then again, neither did I.

  ● Level up, Cleric 8

  ● Your Hit Points have increased, your maximum Hit Points are now 470

  ● Your Mana has increased, your Maximum Mana is now 130.

  ● You have gained the spell, Hammerspace

  ● You have gained a Talent Point

  ● You have earned one stat bump

  I quickly dumped the buff into my Charisma stat. It seemed to be the one stat that did the most good for a Cleric.

  “Hammerspace?” I asked, bringing up the spell menu and hoping.

  “The first Clerics that came up with it were the Clerics of Tony. Their favored weapon was a hammer.”

  I thought about that for a second. That was about as shoehorned in as one could manage and still have it be believable. If this were a TV show, I’d be deadpanning at the camera right now.

  ● Hammerspace, you have a dimensional storage compartment that can hold equipment based on its size. Base size is 1 cubic log.

  That’s not very big,” I said, remembering that Shart had expanded my dimensional storage. “Did that expansion you gave my storage not carry over?”

  “It did,” replied Shart. “You technically only have one character-bound dimensional storage, and everything just feeds into it. If you have access from multiple sources, then it expands accordingly. You have a spell that grants you access, so you should have a tab for it now.”

  Remembering my dimensional sheath, I started to bring it up with Shart. However, it occurred to me that I had always been able to tell if the sheath was empty or full. That, coupled with the fact that it was only supposed to hold one weapon, meant that I never got much of an interface for it on my character sheet. Searching, I found a new tab called Storage. I brought it up to see what the exact size of my dimensional storage was.

  ● Dimensional storage: 1,200,001 cubic logs, plus 1 weapon.

  I blinked. 1.2 million? That was the size of the Houston Astrodome. I recalled Shart saying he had a large amount of dimensional storage, but that was insane. It got weirder, though. I flipped open the storage tab, which listed everything in the storage. My eyes grew wider as I read.

  “You are a magpie,” I said flatly.

  “What?” replied Shart casually. “I just like to collect shiny thin…” he trailed off. “Oh, ha-ha, I get it. Guilty as charged.”

  Shart had stored an insane amount of crap in our dimensional storage. I had forty-seven destroyed hat racks, every shard of stained glass from Windfall Cathedral, and hundreds of cheap baubles that he must have swiped from anywhere and everywhere. That was just the tip of the iceberg. And what the hell is this book called My Inner Shart. I was certain I had seen it before.

  I braced the massive hunk of stone I was lifting with my back and cast Hammerspace. Calling out, “Ranma, no Baka,” a small glowing portal snapped into existence next to me. The portal looked much more substantial than my dimensional sheath. I pressed lightly against its edge, surprised to find a thin barrier around it that prevented me from cutting my finger on the sharp edge of the portal.

  I began to ease my arm in and feel around. I was in up to my forearm when I encountered a sticky substance. I quickly yanked my arm free, only to find the sticky, pink material solidifying as soon as it crossed the barrier. It began to dissolve and ooze down my arm, most of it evaporating before making it past my elbow. That was fine by me. Whatever it was reeked.

  “What the hell is that?” I asked, staring at the disappearing goo. None of my skills determined it to be useful.

  “It's part of my guts. You reached in and started poking around right behind my belly button,” said Shart. “It kind of tickled.”

  Grumbling, I let the portal fail and again called out “Ranma, no Baka,” causing it to reform. This time, I pictured what I wanted, or selected it from my storage tab, if there was a difference. The portal opened somewhere deep in the core of Shart. I reached in and found one of the two bottles that were still there. I quickly pulled one out.

  A delicate hand had lightly scored the cork. It read, “Jim, I believe in you.” I held the Stamina potion for a long moment.

  “Maybe move with a bit more urgency, Dum Dum. You are running out of Stamina,” said Shart. I felt my legs begin to wobble.

  “It still smells like her,” I sighed, biting into the cork and spitting it into the darkness. I drained the whole bottle in one gulp. Instantly, my tiring muscles were restored. I pushed up into the hunk of pillar, buying myself a few more inches.

  Whoever said size doesn’t matter was a liar.

  While that bought me a bit more time, I was still being crushed to death by a million tons of rock. If I could only get my feet squarely down, the situation would be a bit more tolerable. “Shart, is there a way to make the portal bigger? I could place some of these rocks into storage.”

  “Why not just cast Hammerspace on the rock?” suggested Shart. Glancing back at the spell description, I noticed it had touch-based effects. I placed my hand on the rock between my feet and cast the spell.

  Nothing happened.

  “Read more carefully, Dum Dum,” sighed Shart.

  I did so and groaned. “Ranma, no Baka” just seemed more appropriate. Whatever. “Rock, no Baka!”

  It vanished into my pocket dimension, and I was finally able to get both feet squarely on the ground.

  “Well, this is going to be interesting,” I declared. Suddenly, every rock down here was Saotome, and he’d just accidentally kissed Shampoo. “Rock, no Baka!”

  A bit later, Shart spoke up, “I think I have indigestion.”

  “Uh-huh,” I muttered distractedly, as I tried to judge the ceiling structure with my Engineering skill. I decided it was stable enough, though the pocket I’d managed to create was nowhere near the size I wanted it to be. Also, there was still no way out. At least I wasn’t being crushed to death anymore. I considered that to be a massive improvement.

  “Were you trying to get every rock in the world to replace the ones you were teleporting away, or was that just a happy coincidence?” grumbled the demon.

  “Shart, no Baka,” I replied.

  “Did you seriously just try to put me into my own dimensional storage?” grumbled Shart.

  “You aren’t here,” I stated in response, leaning up against one of the rocks.

  “That’s not funny!” the demon exclaimed. “I’d be stuck inside out!”

  “That sounds painful,” I replied. Turning hopeful, I asked, “How painful would it be?”

  “I would be in constant agony, you twit,” growled Shart.

  “That sounds like fun,” stated Badgelor.

  “You stay out of this,” snapped Shart. I could swear that I heard the clash of his fingers on some invisible keyboard somewhere.

  Glancing up, I analyzed the ceiling again. I could tell that it was strong, but that didn’t help me much. The town was up there, and I didn’t want to compromise its stability. Anything I did brought down more rocks. Eventually, that would compromise the ceiling and the city. I also discovered that I couldn’t just teleport chunks of an object away. Teleportation was an all-or-nothing proposition. The larger the object, the more Mana it cost to move to storage. My practical limit was eighteen cubic logs, before I went into Mana Crash. That was how I’d found myself wedged between two large boulders, with a third creating a makeshift roof that kept the rest of the rocks off me.

  “I’m stuck in a hole. Where are you?” I asked Badgelor.

  “Poor Jim, all stuck in a hole. If only he had
his mighty Badgelor to get him out,” replied the mighty badger. “If you must know, I’m around three leagues outside of Union.”

  “How did you get that close?” I asked.

  “Well, you see, there are always wagons going up and down the road. No one will refuse a badger passage,” stated Badgelor, quite full of himself. “I was hoping to meet you on the road, but you apparently went and got stuck.”

  “Sweet, I’m going to summon you,” I stated, starting the spell.

  “Wait! We don’t know for sure how far apart we are. It depends on how far underground you...” Badgelor began. However, before he could finish his statement, he popped into existence next to me. “It might be handier to approach this from the outside.”

  “Badgelor!” I exclaimed, moving to hug my battle pet. He stuck out one clawed fist and growled, looking around.

  “Oh, yay, Badgelor’s here,” Shart monotoned. “That’s just bloody fantastic, isn’t it?”

  “Well, this is right shite,” Badgelor stated, sniffing around. “Nothing is stable. If I dig a hole in any direction, the whole thing is likely to collapse, ya daft bugger.”

  “But you have Badger Digging powers,” I said.

  “That’s not how Badger Digging powers work, ya fecker,” replied Badgelor, bowing his head. “Shart, ye wee lil beastie, please tell me you know where I can dig to”

  “There is a cavern nearby,” stated Shart.

  “Why didn’t you tell me about the cavern?” I exclaimed.

  “You most likely would have collapsed all this rubble on top of yourself trying to get there,” replied the demon.

  “Fair point,” I grumbled. Badgelor expanded to his War Form. His larger, Ultimate Form wouldn’t fit in our cramped, rocky quarters. Carefully, he started digging in the direction Shart ordered.

  “Grab me by the tail! We’ll just work our way through,” stated Badgelor.