A World Called Memory

by M J Sweeney

  Some wide stone stairs were going down, disappearing into the gloom. Although I had good night vision, that was going to be a little hampered inside a dungeon, particularly one infested with undead—very little in the way of heat sources. I waited for my eyes to adjust before I lit my lantern, keeping it on low. I stepped down the first few steps slowly, and only really wanted a quick look around. I couldn’t see much so I lit the lamp.

  Venturing down the stairs about three metres, I could now see the passageway ahead was thick with dust and crumbled stone, the floor crunching underfoot. The dust and rubble got thicker as I moved further in. I could see that the wide passage continued into the distance, with a number of side passages spaced evenly to each side. With an initial count, I could see two on each side, and more ahead. There was a subtle wind blowing down the passageway toward me, creating a miasmic cloud and making it hard to see clearly on top of the gloom. I didn’t like any of that. Double creepy. I resisted the urge to cough and sneeze.

  Bending down to examine the crumbled stone and dust, I stepped closer to the side wall and froze. The crumbled “stone” was fine and powdery to the middle of the passage, but to the sides, all along the length of adjoining wall and floor, the “rubble” was thicker, in pieces of different lengths and shapes. Not like stone at all… more like…

  “Bones,” I breathed out. Thousands and thousands of piled and powdered bones. “Mother fucker!” I quickly backed up the stairs, heart thumping madly, my elbow leaves twitching like they were about to fall off. I slid the doors shut carefully. Holding Cylvai’s symbol, I intoned, “Stay thee shut!” and heard a ding.

  Shit. If I didn’t have a quest, that’d have been the last I’d see of that place, and off I’d go, never looking back. Oh man, I grumbled to myself. I was also annoyed my elbow leaves didn’t warn me in advance. They didn’t seem to be fool proof warning me of danger; mostly they panicked if and when I was panicking.

  Jogging out from the perimeter of stone walls, with the door sealed shut behind me, I tried to shake off the feeling of dread. Dead bones and soulless spirits non-withstanding, I did not want to die alone and unknown out here. Then I remembered the deanimated skeletons, so I jogged back and collected the stash from their bones. They at least did not disturb me so much. Maybe it was being outdoors? After making a couple of trips, I got all the gear to the fisherman’s hut. If I wasn’t a wood elf, I could probably make this little spot my temporary respawn point.

  Back at my camp, I was more clear-headed, so I really thought about it—I mean, I was a priest. Shouldn’t I have some power against this kind of thing? Other than just Holy Smite and Breath of Life? I had a sudden suspicious feeling with that thought. I had a skill called Divine Favour and an ability called Divine Power, and I wasn’t exactly sure what either one did. After making myself a pot of tea and some lunch, I accessed the interface.

  / Divine Power /

  / Access Information /

  [Unlike other abilities, Divine Power automatically grants specific talents, bonus quest options, and bonus social and interaction options for Priests, Druids, Holy Warriors, and Paladins. No ability points need to be spent for such classes; Divine Power simply increases based on increase of the Divine Favour skill—through experience and levels: using prayer, persuasion, conversion, holy vows, and curses to curry divine favour. In other words, doing tasks proscribed by your church and deity]

  / Consecrate Ground / Tainted Ground /

  / Lay Dead to Rest / Animate Dead /

  / Holy Aura / Unholy Aura /

  Sheesh! I was stupid. I’d never checked it when I was first granted the ability, and then forgot about it. I had thought Divine Power was helping me to persuade NPCs to my way of thinking, but apparently, that’s not all it was for. I could call down divine power particularly in the pursuit of vanquishing evil, undead, malign spirits, and purifying tainted ground. It was also odd that Holy Aura was something you activated or energized—you had to consciously turn it on each day or each time—but was still considered a passive ability. All class auras were the same.

  I blinked on / Holy Aura /

  Holy Aura Grants Immunity to Fear, +5/10/15/20% Resistance to Life Leech / Drain, Mana Leech / Drain, and Stamina Leech / Drain +1% per 5 Charisma (the latter applies to the priest only), Holy Aura automatically increases power at Level 1, 20, 40, 60, 1m radius per 10 Charisma—affects all Seelie within range, Reserves 10% Mana (Automatic Priest ability, no points need to be allocated)

  [The ground at your feet becomes sacred, all Undead beings (and their creators) within your vicinity will be reluctant to attack you and do weakened damage (1% Total Reduction per 5 Charisma), these effects can occur only once in the case of multiple Auras, (See Crusader’s Aura) but will combine and double in radius per Aura, effectively covering the size of an army with but a few aligned Priests—the Aura type will show the main colour and sigil of the presiding deity or racial group]

  That was good. Really good. Mages had a similar spell called Pentagram, which appeared at their feet and moved with them, protecting them from all abyssal creatures, demons (also called other),plus summoned fae, elementals, and crafted golems, but not undead. Instead of immunity to fear, it granted immunity to possession or domination.

  After checking on Consecrate Ground and Lay Dead to Rest, I learned that the first cleared an area of evil residue, purifying unholy altars and the like—if your Divine Favour skill was high enough. The second caused the risen to stay dead, as they tended to keep rising again and again, typically either fuelled by the goddess Ulgorrim’s unholy power or some other local equivalent. You had to be able to overcome or break whatever was fuelling them. Those abilities seemed similar to me, but I guessed they had different applications—one applied to the earth, the other to an undead body.

  Currently, I was about halfway to level 11. With this new ability, I thought I could probably delve further into these ruins. Although I was reluctant to team up with anyone, it was probably smarter, and also good experience learning to fight with others—combining different abilities, teamwork, and magic, all of that. Not to mention I didn’t like the idea of going down into the dark by myself.

  Decision made, I finished my tea and headed back out. It was only early afternoon. When I energised Holy Aura, I couldn’t see much to begin, but then noticed my boot prints were leaving subtle silver streamers behind them, like puffs of cloud or swirling wind. If I squinted, I could also see the subtle silver light of the aura as it extended all around me in a bubble. This time it really was like fish in a barrel. Most of the risen hesitated when they stepped into my aura, so I used that hesitation to strike them down.

  The three sergeants were still a little tricky, but now that I knew their main abilities with Charge and Piercing Shot, I could avoid the worst of it, as long as I kept a good line of sight and used cover behind the large blocks of stone. I did think it unfair that they had access to the Charge ability before I did, as normally you couldn’t get it until level 20. Maybe undead had some other advantages I was unaware of.

  Even though it was only a small percentage difference, Holy Aura stacked well with my warrior abilities and gave me some more advantages over them, decreasing their damage, particularly when I added Holy Smite to the mix. The aura also reserved a little of my mana, but that wasn’t a big concern at this stage.

  Chapter 12

  Some days later, with some rather useful yet repetitive battles with the risen under my belt, I opted to ask a small group to come. Levelling up and grinding could indeed be boring, but I couldn’t ask for a better training environment. It was actually better than normal training—more realistic, but also with minimal risk once I learned the basic abilities (and general lack of imagination and intelligence) of the risen.

  It was also fun at times, honing my skills; better footwork, parry and riposte, and overall better timing, sometimes against three or four of the undead at a time. There was nothing quite like dismantling a bunch of skeletons and doing s
o with minimal damage to my precious self. Thank you Allih for the insights and training. For the first time since arriving in Memory, I felt confident and capable.

  As the Eragdas ruins were some distance from Geras Anandiel, it would likely take anyone willing over a week to get here—Geras was the nearest city and the most likely place I would find congregations of adventurers who were of a suitable level. When I checked the maps, Bolgas Dizzini was actually closer, but I didn’t think I could handle a bunch of goblins for companions. I also wondered if there were any goblin adventurers. Anyway, it was too risky, too many possibilities for bad behaviour.

  After going down the stairs of the ruins a few times to look again, each time my nerves—and the mad twitching of my elbow leaves—had gotten the better of me, and I had exited. Somehow I knew if I continued in by myself, I would regret it.

  / Looking for Group /

  Level 10-15

  Forgotten Ruins 8-10 days by horse from Geras Anandiel

  Untouched!

  Apply to Cordaen for position

  Have Tank, Need Healer, all classes can apply. Max 4 pax.

  Group loot options: Need only. All “holy artefacts” go to group leader first, to be discussed on arrival. Any out of pocket expenses to make the trip will be paid, also to be discussed on arrival.

  Having another healer would be ideal, especially considering the undead. The untouched part was important, as it meant the loot in the dungeon should be intact as the place hadn’t been properly delved before. Whatever was found could be valuable and rare. Of course, I didn’t mention that I thought it was cursed, nor did I give the exact location. I wouldn’t until I had accepted them in the group and they were already on their way.

  The first couple of messages that came in were from higher level people (one level 30 and another level 62!) asking me where. I ignored those, as I didn’t want to be railroaded into someone else’s team and be relegated into taking orders from some big-wig—and face the prospect of gaining less experience and even failing the quest. As I didn’t know how these things worked here so well, and I didn’t wanted to get surrounded by a bunch of random adventurers, some caution was best.

  The next messages were from a pair, a level 15 dwarf warrior and a level 12 female half-elf mage. That was promising. I messaged them that I was taking more enquiries and would get back to them within one day. A number of others applied, some too low-level, some too high, obviously wanting the location. The next was a human male, a level 10 priest. Maybe a bit too low-level, but he was the only healer to apply. A couple of rogues applied, but I thought the priest was more suitable.

  So I said yes to them: Hagard Hagstrom the dwarf warrior, Lilac Hollyoak the half-elf mage, and Marcus Pollonius the human priest. Once they joined, they could see where I was camping on the map. I told them to come east, then south, and I would show them the ruins when we met. The three of them joined up and rode east.

  The dwarf kept asking me to change the loot options, that greed was a fairer system, letting people roll against each other and take what they wanted. I kept saying no, we would do need only, and I would give people loot based on class first and agreeability second. That seemed to shut him up for a bit, but then he started to make comments about his experience and how he had run many raids before.

  He then started arguing for the leadership spot, saying as he was already bringing two people, and as their nominated leader, I should be happy with the 2IC position. I thought about that, getting more and more annoyed, but opted for ignoring that too. Better to wait and see, and if necessary, argue in person.

  Eventually he shut up (well, he was just messaging in group chat, but you know what I mean), and I got back to it. I worked hard over the next week and eventually levelled to 14.

  When the trio arrived, I stood under the tree I had been using as a minor campsite. I didn’t mind if they knew the location of the ruins by now, but I didn’t really want them finding my stash by the lake. Maybe I was being overly suspicious, but in this kind of reality—when stuff could be stolen and death was always imminent, it was best to be a bit careful.

  “Fuck, you’re a tank?” That was the dwarf, of course, and not a good start.

  “Greetings,” I said.

  “Greetings,” the priest replied, while the half-elf remained silent, looking to the dwarf. They all got down off their horses and looped the reins around some of the branches.

  The dwarf, Hagard, was a typical burly sort—long brown beard, huge eyebrows, big nose, and equipped in chain mail and a huge two-handed axe strapped to his back. The half-elf, Lilac, wore a dark red robe and had bright red hair cut short—not ginger, mind you, but red like a rose. She also had daggers in a row around her waist.

  The priest, Marcus, was a big, muscular human with short-cropped dark hair. He had this huge charger of a horse, almost as tall as the dwarf when sitting on his pony, and a pack-mule behind that. He was clean-shaven and dressed in a solid breastplate, steel-linked gloves, and full steel sabatons. He had a large kite shield on his back and carried an equally large one-handed war-hammer.

  There were no icons or name tags above their heads; it seemed foreigners—I think they were all from Earth, but I didn’t know—were largely indistinguishable from the locals. I wasn’t sure if that was good or bad, time would tell.

  “Oh, man,” the dwarf drawled, “this is going to be fun. Speak up little dryad, tell me about these so-called untouched ruins. And tell me, how in the hell do you propose to tank when you’re only wearing your pyjamas?”

  I frowned. “You mean my leather armour?”

  “Yeah, whatever that is. Some flashy matching elf-set that does nothing, I’m betting.” He looked at the half-elf and smirked. “Kids these days, eh?”

  She smiled wanly back.

  “I don’t know what you mean, actually,” I said. “I’ve been quite effective at solo tanking so far, though I have had to be careful at times.”

  Marcus was standing back with his arms folded.

  “Ah, Gods,” Hagard groaned. “Show us the ruins already, then.”

  I led them over towards the outer rim. “The first part is easy to see. There are undead skeletons at each section—swordsmen, then archers, and finally three sergeants at the end. They’re all about level ten to thirteen, and not so hard.”

  “With a competent group we could take them, yes,” the dwarf agreed. “Getting mobbed would be a challenge, but if we limited their numbers with each pull… I think we should start by—”

  I didn’t like that he was trying to take over, but I went with it for now. Better that he say his piece; then we’d see.

  “Hang on Hagard,” Marcus was interrupting, “I think we should hear Cordaen out first. He’s been here longer than us, and has the experience.”

  Hagard was now glaring at Marcus, and going a little red. He looked from one to the other of us, clearly weighing his options. “I think we should also discuss the leadership job. As I will be the main tank, I think it falls to me…”

  I held up my hand. His face was red and angry, but at least he stopped talking.

  “Look Hagard, I’m sure you’re probably a competent leader.” I could see Marcus frowning out of the corner of my eye. “But honestly, you’re just being a bit too pushy. Why don’t we try it my way first, and then…”

  “What the fuck?” he retorted. “Now you listen up, pip-squeak. You’re no tank. I can see it. Just hand me the leadership job, and it will go so much easier…”

  I tried reasoning with him one last time. “Look, I’ve been killing the risen here for about a month now. I know what I’m doing.”

  “I don’t give a rat’s ass. Look, fool, if you’re not willing to hear reason, I’ll just disband from the group and me ‘n Lilac and the healer will delve those ruins on our own.”

  “Leave the group if you want, but you’ll not get inside without my help.”

  “What?”

  I resisted the urge to touch Cylvai’s holy symbol. �
�These ruins are untouched. Or they have been for at least a few years. No adventurer has delved them properly, and there’s a reason for that. It’s damned hard to get inside. Unless you have the key.” I folded my arms over my chest, now really glaring back at the dwarf. Definitely an asshole. I should kick him from the group first, I thought. Just wait; let’s see how it plays out.

  “So I guess you’re saying you have that key? Have you even been inside?” he retorted.

  “Yes and yes.”

  “Look. First of all, you can’t be serious to tank. It just won’t go. Second, it’s clear you have no experience with groups. So I’m proposing…”

  Shit, this guy was just plain rude and insulting. Putting my hand up to halt him, I also shook my head. “No. Whatever you’re going to say next, no. Either you submit to my leadership, or you’re out.”

  “Don’t be daft, dryad; we came all this way…”

  “You have ten seconds.”

  “What?” He turned to the half-elf. “Lilac, you tell him—”

  It wasn’t quite ten seconds, but I kicked him from the group.

  “What the fuck?”

  I turned to Lilac. “And you?”

  She shrugged and dropped from the group. Damn. I sighed. The dwarf was still sputtering in his beard, fuming.

  “And you, Marcus?” I asked.

  “Me? I think this would be funny if it wasn’t so…” he began, but Hagard got up close to me and poked me in the chest with one thick finger.

  “Stupid fucking dryad! You told me you had the key, then kicked me from the group, so now I’m free to take it from your stupid corpse.”

  I stepped back. “You can try.”

  “Wow, hey now.” Marcus put his hands up in a placating manner, trying to step between us. “There’s no need for that. Better resolve this peaceably; no need for violence, eh?”