Noob Game Plus

by Ryan Rimmel

  To her credit, Lorraine was tough enough to take all eight hits. Her armor was solid, and she had some defensive perks. If I hadn’t delivered all eight strikes simultaneously to her shoulders, I think she would have survived. She may have even managed a comeback.

  The fact that we were in a farmer’s field also played a part. The soil was soft and fresh, having just been tilled. Each of my strikes would have normally sent her flying backward several logs; instead, each strike slammed her deeper into the ground.

  When I stepped back from the strike, I had buried Lorraine up to her thighs. She was at a massive disadvantage, but that wasn’t the end of the world for her. There were ways to escape, if I gave her time. Her Hack and Slash had come off cooldown, but I stepped out of range. She didn’t have a chance to execute it. Her eyes went from fury to horror, as I leapt up into the sky.

  Now, she was watching me. I was flying through the heavens, my blade aglow. I was also screaming “Falling Star Strike.” She didn’t have a defense that would save her.

  “I yield!”

  I aborted the strike, landing next to her. “Excellent! Good doing business with you.”

  I reached over to help her from her hole. She grumbled and shoved my extended hand away. I smirked, turning to find Jerry and the other adventurers looking at me in horror. From the whispers I could hear, Lorraine did not lose duels.

  “Okay, everyone, line up,” I said, gesturing toward the group.

  “I am not following behind some lowly wandering adventurer,” hissed Nick.

  “I believe you are,” I replied.

  “And how do you expect to accomplish that?” he growled.

  Chapter 43 – The March towards the Sisters

  “How many knots can one man know?” hissed Nick, as we continued marching toward Lorraine’s estate. Fortunately, it was in the same direction that I believed the ruined temple to be in. I had high hopes that my scratch-built, little army would soon be useful.

  My expanded scratch-built, little army was less cooperative than I’d hoped. Right after the fight, they had planned to go to Lorraine’s estate for a party. Fortunately, I had chosen to go that direction anyway, so they had agreed to follow me. I tied Jerry to Lorraine, who I then tied to Merideth, her sister. I proceeded from there to Nick, and ended my prison chain gang with Robin, an adventurer in the employ of Nick. It truly was a chain of misery.

  I had to figure out a better way of tying people up. You could describe my current style as Shibari-inspired. It didn’t help that I’d had them remove all their magical weapons and toss them into my glowing disk of dimensional storage. I had allowed them to keep their magical armor, this time. We looked as ordinary as we possibly could, as I marched five adventurers and their armies behind me.

  Of all of them, Nick was the most upset. He had been ready to crash at Lorraine’s country estate, complete with hot springs and swimming pool. Now, he was being dragged behind a man and his badger.

  “Could we at least have our horses?” mumbled Merideth. She was a Cleric of Natasha, so I didn’t trust her at all. It just did not seem wise. She tried to be the voice of reason, but, as soon as I’d relented and let her ride, she’d tried to escape. That had been two hours ago. “Or at least loosen some of the ropes?”

  Jerry and Lorraine talked most of the way. Their discussion amounted to Lorraine talking at Jerry, and Jerry freaking out. Lorraine’s voice grew more and more heated. It was clear she blamed her cousin for their current predicament. Finally, she gave his ears a rest and turned on me. Angrily, she yelled out, “So, what do you think you are doing?”

  “Currently, I’m stopping you guys from tearing around the countryside needlessly killing people,” I replied boastfully. I had been using my best Sir Dalton impression since we’d left the field. I’d quickly discovered why he did it. When you oozed that much confidence, people second-guessed themselves. Lorraine was typically all fire and brimstone with me, but she considered something for a brief instant.

  “We are trying to avenge the death of our king!” called out Lorraine. Instantly, Nick turned to yell at me, as well.

  “We are trying to avenge the death of our king,” he parroted, before adding, “Everyone knows the duchess is responsible.”

  “Hardly, it was the duke. He ordered the princess to kill her father. The duke is a terrible coward,” growled out Lorraine. She had spun around to yell at Nick. Merideth quickly found herself in the middle of the two screaming commanders. Both shouted out their cases, sure that the other side was responsible for the king’s death. They were equally sure that the princess was the other side’s pawn.

  “I think the Dark Overlord was responsible. He had her captured and sent off somewhere,” Merideth squeaked. Both Lorraine and Nick rounded on her.

  “It is simply not possible that you bought into that harlot’s incessant rambling. You’re smarter than that, dear sister. The Dark Overlord is dead,” yelled Lorraine.

  “That’s one thing we can agree on,” Nick said, though it would have been better for him to have kept his mouth shut. Speaking up only reminded Lorraine that he was there. She turned back for another verbal sparring match with him.

  “Julia’s rambling?” I asked.

  Lorraine inhaled very sharply, turning to face me. “Our princess, Julia Angela Claudia Carrington Ewing Gioberti Napa Ewing, is a Zealot. She may have, on an occasion or two, mentioned her belief that the Dark Overlord was soon going to rise again.”

  Nick also rounded on me. “She believed she saw the shooting star that foretold Grebthar’s rebirth. She expected to see the Dark Overlord, rising out of the Tomb of Shadows, and the mayor returning from his long absence.”

  “Do not address our princess by her first name again,” growled Robin. I glanced about. All five adventurers were glaring at me. This argument was an in-family dispute if I’d ever seen one.

  “Well, what do you expect from a man with a fake sword made by ‘Grebthar’?” yelled Nick, eying me. “That’s right. We saw the sword. Nice weapon, by the way. I wonder if its maker’s mark would stand up to any real scrutiny.”

  I hadn’t considered that. I’d made a few things. Of course, they had maker’s marks on them. Trains by Jim were hot commodities. I slid my sword from the scabbard and examined it, using my Smithing skill. The maker’s mark showed who had crafted the item. In cases where multiple crafters were involved, everyone's maker’s mark would show up.

  HankAlvin had crafted the sword, and Grebthar himself had laid out the enchantments on the blade. That meant Grebthar’s sword had two makers marks on it. Any of the maker’s could name the item if they chose, so Grebthar had changed the name from HankAlvin’s choice of Longsword #42 to Grebthar’s Sword. I was certain that there was a Forgery skill that would allow someone to put a fake maker’s mark on a weapon. That's what Nick was expecting.

  “Well, you seem to be the expert,” I said, tossing the weapon to Nick. His grab was awkward, as he was in the middle of my chain of prisoners. With his hands bound as they were, he couldn’t wield it effectively, but it allowed him to scrutinize the weapon. He glared at it.

  After a long moment, he ground out, “It's a good forgery.” I activated Flash Steps, materializing in front of him, my hand extended. He frowned but handed the weapon back. “Flash Steps, like that’s very impressive. You have a mobility build.”

  “I was pretty mobile, wasn’t I, Lorraine?” I asked, cutting her off before her mouth could continue to form a word. She frowned.

  “If you aren’t trying to collect bounties on our heads, why are you walking around fighting other adventurers?” she asked.

  “I’ve got a quest to save the princess,” I said, bringing up my quest log and showing them the active quest. Nick and Lorraine grew quiet.

  “It's a trick,” stated Robin. “The princess died, right after she killed her father.”

  “Maybe someone kidnapped her,” suggested Merideth.

  “Right after she murdered her father?”
scoffed Lorraine.

  “Are we sure she did that?” asked Jerry, after a long moment. “I mean, it seemed so out of character for her.” There was another, more uncomfortable silence. Jerry was, at the very least, willing to consider what I’d said. The lull in conversation extended for a moment, so I continued.

  “I don’t think she did. I fought with Hardragon back in Union. He had a Shadow Assassin with him. I figure she assumed the shape of Julia and then killed the king,” I stated casually.

  Lorraine looked at me in shock, before she began to laugh. “You fought with Hardragon? And he didn’t kill you?”

  “Neither did you,” I replied. Nick barked out a laugh.

  “Jim’s Health bar didn’t move very much, and he has a War Badger,” stated Merideth. She appeared to be thinking very hard. “Nope, I still don’t see you winning that fight.”

  “Well, he did smash me through the Temple of Rogers. I’m better equipped now, though. I’d like a rematch,” I said. Lorraine was bubbling with laughter. She turned toward Nick, who was, likewise, laughing. The only one that was silent was Robin.

  “A battle between adventurers destroyed the Temple of Rogers in Union yesterday,” said Robin. “Hardragon was spotted. He had to use his Shout to defeat the other adventurer. That’s what smashed the temple.”

  “Hardragon’s on cooldown?” asked Lorraine, her eyebrows narrowing in thought.

  Nick appeared to have been silenced, too. I enjoyed the quiet, as we walked on. The roads were becoming slightly broader, as we moved toward the more settled lands. By now, the massive fields of grapes had given way to more areas full of grapes, along with fruits of many other varieties. That assumed that grapes were fruit, and you wanted what seemed like 500 kinds of grapes.

  “Wine drinkers,” I said to Badgelor, shaking my head.

  “Yup, people have been calling them that before I ever came here,” stated the badger before his ears started wiggling. I listened for a moment but whatever Badgelor had heard was still out of my range, not that it mattered. Badgelor’s back began to quiver slightly as the anticipated break approached.

  “Your messengers use horses,” I said conversationally. Lorraine grunted.

  “Of course, they do,” she growled. She was upset, but that seemed to be pretty standard for her. She spent several odd moments looking at me, then looked away. Glancing at the rest of the group, my gut told me I had them right where I wanted them.

  “Well, I’m off to save the princess,” I replied casually, hopping back onto Badgelor. “I’ll probably fight evils and right wrongs, as well. Maybe you should start doing that, instead of fighting pointless wars.”

  Lorraine shook her head, “Look, Fake Grebthar, you can preach all you want about the olden days, but your notion of what an adventurer should be doing is outdated. There are no more heroes, just adventurers trying to get by.”

  I shrugged and released the rope. “I don’t see it that way. You are all free to go.”

  “What?” asked Nick, stopping to look at me intently.

  “I said ‘You are free to go.’ This little march was fun, but it's over,” I replied, opening up my dimensional storage. I began to unceremoniously drop all of the adventurers’ equipment at Badgelor’s feet, including Jerry’s bracers. They were all staring at each other, as I started off the side of the road. As I did so, I gestured to their unit commanders to come forward. “I’m going this way. Feel free to find me again when you need to.”

  “What’s stopping us from hunting you down?” yelled Robin.

  “You and what army?” I chuckled.

  “That army,” gesticulated Robin to his men.

  Badgelor’s head spun around, both eyes glowing purple. The half dozen soldiers who were marching forward stopped dead. “The pool’s open, and the water’s fine.” My War Leader talent was showing me that multiple units, mainly Jerry’s, were already near breaking at the thought of engaging a War Badger.

  One of the few advantages of having the Grebtharian religion as your culture’s touchstone was that there were plenty of stories. A lot of those stories centered around fools who ignored men riding badgers. With how uncommon War Badgers were these days, it would have been like ordering men to kill the donkey that brought Mary to Bethlehem. None of the soldiers were willing to just up and attack a War Badger. Additionally, Jerry’s men had been circulating tales of Badgelor’s near invincibility.

  “We’ll form a party and come after you,” yelled Robin, as I continued walking away. I could see the faces of his companions and quickly gathered what they thought of that idea. Jerry’s eyes were like dinner plates. Lorraine and Nick were, at least, considering it. However, their eyes told me that they thought it was a bad idea. Merideth was a definite no. Her mental calculations quickly led her to believe doing so would hurt. It would probably hurt a lot. In short, I wasn’t in the least bit concerned that they would be following me, at least not to attack me.

  I waved at Jerry and continued into the woods. My path was cut off, however, as a frothing horse came running out of the road through the forest. When its rider saw Lorraine, he screamed, “Lady Wells.”

  “What are you doing?” asked Shart.

  “Letting them figure out how screwed they are,” I said, looking around. “What is the over-under, Badgelor?”

  “Five minutes,” stated the badger, shrinking down to shoulder-riding size and plopping down on a stump to wait.

  “I take under,” Shart cried. “As dumb as humans are, it still won’t take this group long.”

  I pulled out the vial of white liquid I’d stolen off Lorraine. I was fairly certain it was a backup potion of whatever she’d used to beef herself up. Popping the cork, I inhaled sharply.

  ● Potion of Divine Strength. This potion elevates a human's power to a higher tier race, “Super Human,” for five minutes. After drinking the potion, it will take 1 minute before it becomes fully effective. All stats increased by + 2.

  “Nice,” I grinned. “Shart, what is this made of?” I had the Alchemy skill, but this potion was over my skill level. I might have been able to determine the recipe, had I been at an Alchemy Lab. Shart, on the other hand, could just review the metadata.

  “Impressive, Dum Dum,” responded the demon. He whistled before adding, “Most of the ingredients are rare. Some are very rare.”

  “How much do you think it would sell for?” I asked, shaking the potion and examining the ingredients list Shart provided. It used honey as a base, which was about the only ingredient I had with me. Nearly every potion required at least a little of it. I saw that I could substitute healroot for a few ingredients, but it required Divine Ichor and several specific roots, like Lotus Flower.

  “In Falcon, that’s a cool ninety gold potion,” answered Shart. “Of course, the further you get away from the city, the more it sells for. Divine Ichor doesn’t occur naturally on Ordinal. You need a Cleric or Zealot to craft it.”

  “Don’t suppose you can just grab some Divine Ichor from Limbo?” I asked. Shart groaned, while Badgelor chuckled.

  “What are they doing?” I muttered.

  “I think they are still arguing,” stated Badgelor, totally disinterested. He had found a sunbeam and some moss. He was resting on his back, trying to see if his tummy functioned as a solar panel. The results were mixed.

  I brought up my Mana Control skill and cast Heightened Senses. Now that I had proper Mana Sight through my Heightened Senses, I wanted to see just how Divine spells worked. I focused on using my Holy Smite attack and watched my Mana. Not much happened, as far as I could tell. None of my Cores engaged, not that I even had a Divine Core.

  Finally, I intoned, “I shall smite thee.”

  Instantly, the magic seemed to spring out of me, wrapping around my words and slamming into my sword. It glowed white for a long moment, more than enough for me to make an attack. When I didn’t strike, the magic dissipated, flowing back into me.

  I repeated the process, speaking slowly. Each w
ord I said gathered magic into it, until the spell activated. What surprised me was that each word didn’t gain the same amount of magic. “I” and “Shall” gained virtually nothing, while “Smite” took in the lion’s share, and “Thee” caught a substantial bit of power.

  I tried several other spells. My Hammerspace spell was activated with the phrase, “Ranma, no Baka.” The spell only gathered energy on the “no Baka” portion. When you said the first word, be it “Ranma”, “Rock”, or anything else inanimate, nothing magical happened. Using Mystical Lore, I determined that the first word in a spell was the target. The rest was the spell.

  “You should probably check to see if there are specific prayers for Logan,” said Shart, as I continued saying, ‘I shall smite thee,’ over and over again.

  I didn’t ask the stupid question. Of course, each religion would have specific prayers. Activating my Religion skill, I found Logan-specific versions of most of my spells.

  “I shall smite thee” was replaced with “Snick, Snick, Bub.” The Heal Damage prayer was, “You’re still alive, Bub.” Every single prayer ended in “Bub.”

  “Wow, that is a thing,” I decided, trying out several spells.

  When I got to Holy Blast, I noticed something interesting. There was not a Logan- specific variant of that spell. I just concentrated and said “Bub,” which caused a blast of Holy energy to shoot from my hands. The cost of 7 Mana was minimal. Of course, it only did about 15 Damage, but it was a quick cast.

  I pointed my palm at a nearby tree and said, “Bub,” five times in a row. Each spell cost 7 Mana, and I could cast them as quickly as I could say, “Bub.”

  “That’s different,” I said to Shart. “These don’t have a Magical cooldown like Arcane spells.”