The Trapped Mind Project (Emerilia Book 1)

by Michael Chatfield

  “Thanks.” Zane stood. Already he’d started thinking of himself as Dave; that was going to get a bit confusing for a few days.

  He took a sandwich but he didn’t feel hungry.

  Weird.

  He wandered around the house; his music was playing. He felt tired and let loose a yawn. Maybe it was time for some sleep. He had two hours until he could play more.

  First, he went to his home office: checked emails, sent replies, and confirmed details or sent them back for revision. His whole company was paying for itself out of savings, though that wasn’t inconsiderable. They could haul in an asteroid worth as much as some superpowers yearly GDP in a week. As they were in limbo, there was the GDP of Spain hanging out on the Moon shaped as refined metals.

  Everyone along the path got a part of the overall profit, from finders, to miners, to refiners, and everyone in between. They had more money than they knew what to do with, but Zane kept paying their regular wages.

  His people were loyal and even if it was just a pittance of what they normally got, it was the premise of it all. It was also why so many of them were willing to move if the company moved.

  He’d been going through reports on the Japanese delegation’s visit when he stretched. It was odd; it felt as though he’d gotten his second wind. He yawned as if he had just woken up from sleep instead of been heading to bed.

  “Jackie, coffee please, and get Suzy to contact me when she’s up. Give her a few hours at least. None of that waking her up immediately crap!” Zane said.

  “Yes, sir,” Jackie said.

  Zane saw bright lights down his neighborhood. Someone was throwing a party, it seemed. Lights came on as he walked. There was a time when he would have wanted to go to a party like that. Now, well, he was more interested in getting back into Emerilia.

  His hunger fell away; in fact, he felt pretty satisfied.

  “Hmm,” Zane muttered, drinking his coffee.

  “Something the matter, Mister Zane?” Jackie asked.

  “No, nothing.”

  “How was your game?”

  “Good! Exciting—feels so real! Let me know as soon as I can get back in. I don’t have much work left to do anyway.” A smile spread across Zane’s face. He was excited to see what zombie him had been up to!

  “Yes, Mister Zane,” Jackie said.

  Zane drank his coffee and wandered around his house. Finally, he gave in and headed down to his sanctuary and started to look over people’s attempts at crafting.

  He rolled his shoulders, both them and his back getting tight. Must be from sitting in a damn chair all the time.

  “Hey, Jackie, look up the wikis on crafting. Specifically, I want to look into house building.”

  “Certainly, Mister Zane. Would you like diagrams as well?”

  “You know me too well, Jackie.” Zane smiled as holographic images floated around.

  She showed him how to build a basic house; he went into defenses as well as farming and a bit about smithing. Although he could wait to learn it in the game, the lock picking had really showed him that prior knowledge really did help.

  “The five hours is up,” Jackie said.

  The tension was still across his body. He’d been focused on gathering information but it felt as if he’d been working out. “Thanks, Jackie!” Zane was only too excited to jump into his chair and pull the headset back on.

  Chapter 4: An Administrator’s Boredom

  Lo’kal felt a pull across the miasma that was his world.

  “Well, what is this we have here?” He was one of seven; everyone got that wrong—always the six. Those six couldn’t do anything with all the egos and pheromones in the air. They were as likely to fight as they were to have an orgy.

  Lo’kal looked over the information. A smile started to cover his face. I’d always dreamed of a bleeder. Lo’kal’s Jukal eyes moved in excitement as he removed the information on the Player.

  He had been the creator of Emerilia and now he was its caretaker. He had been so for nearly seven centuries. He was the one who made sure that the NPCs had enough protection; he made the rules. The rest—they pissed around with powers and tried to bend the rules as much as possible.

  It was like dealing with a litter of toddlers, with the powers of a god.

  The amount of power that Emerilia generated was enough to power ten of the Empire’s most advanced planets. A part was fed back into Emerilia; most was sold off, and the rest went to the seven.

  Though six of them handed it out like candy on Halloween.

  Emerilia was the highest-grossing entertainment for the Empire’s people. Watch the savages kill one another and sell any of the plans that they came up with.

  Lo’kal was the unseen hand, the manager and balancer.

  The other six were always vying for their people to win, to make alliances with one another to destroy the others. It could take decades or centuries until their plans came to fruition. They cared little about the cost, or the time it took. Lo’kal had learned early on that the patient ones were the worst to deal with.

  Lo’kal introduced himself into the game’s network. His body died, turning to ash as he awoke in the town Omal.

  He got up, wearing nothing but the starting gear and a few gold. He picked himself a new name.

  “Bob the Gnome. I like it!” He headed out of the Altar of Rebirth and wandered through the town. Although the other six loved to show off their power, Bob liked to keep it quiet, instead getting to know the people he oversaw. He walked through the market, getting a bit of food here, having a chat there.

  “Why don’t you come over to the Silver Oxen? Heard they got a nice boar on the spit today,” one of the leather workers Bob was getting a pair of pants from said.

  “Well, I kind of need to go see my acquaintance.” Bob tapped his chin. “All right, I’m in!” Bob’s face split into a big smile as the large man clapped him on the back.

  “Well, I get off at six bells. I’ll meet you there with some female company,” the leather worker said.

  “Oh, I can’t miss that! Should have led with that!” Bob laughed with the leather worker. “I’ll see you later. I’ve got to get a few more things for my trip.” Bob waved good-bye and headed back into the market.

  He talked and wandered around. He went to the bars, toured the shops. He lived in his own world, unknown to those around him. The NPCs talked of the harvests, of the hope for rain. Others talked of the influx of travelers. He’d heard it before, but still he allowed himself to get sunk into it, allowing himself to become one of the many.

  The bleeder could wait, Bob surmised. Bob had lived for nearly five hundred years since he’d created Emerilia. Having a beer and getting rowdy: it was a good way to throw off his duties, becoming the man he had created. He’d also heard a rumor that the Silver Oxen had some proper Dwarven whiskey. He wasn’t about to let that go to waste!

  Chapter 5: Laying the First Timber

  Zane logged back on to his character swinging his pick at a bunch of rocks.

  He checked his bag. There was quite a bit, but he would need a decent amount for the base of his house. He continued smashing rocks and checked his notifications.

  Stat Increase

  +1 Strength

  +1 Intelligence

  +1 Agility

  +3 Willpower

  “I forgot to see if I leveled up after those magical circuits!”

  He quickly went over to his character sheet to check out whether the massive increase in stats led to him gaining a new level.

  Character Sheet

  Name:

  David Grahslagg

  Gender:

  Male

  Level:

  3

  Class:

  -

  Race:

  Human/Dwarf

  Alignment:

  -

  Unspent points: 0

  Health:

  1100

  Regen:

  0.28 /s

  Mana:
/>
  190

  Regen:

  0.80 /s

  Stamina:

  170

  Regen:

  1.05 /s

  Vitality:

  11

  Endurance:

  9

  Intelligence:

  19

  Willpower:

  16

  Strength:

  17

  Agility:

  21

  “Okay, so no level increase even though my attributes went up by sixteen points.” Dave frowned holding his chin in thought. “So, if I was to gain points through just work then I wouldn’t have to use my stat points from leveling up. If stat points get harder to gain with higher attribute levels, then I’d be shooting myself in the foot by just using all of my level stat points right away. If I saved them up, then I could increase my attributes once it gets nearly impossible to gain them just through hard work. Its not like I have anything better to do,” Dave shrugged to himself.

  He’d refrain from putting in the stat points he was given at every level. Instead, he’d work hard, building up his attribute through hard work. When it became too hard to gain the stat points through straight working, then he’d start using the level stats.

  With his stats gained through training, he might be look to be a level three when people analyzed him but his attributes made him equal to a level six.

  Active Skill: Mining

  Level: Novice level 6

  Effect: 15% chance to get higher yield of materials from ore vein. 11% faster mining. (+15 Racial bonus)

  Cost: 10 Stamina/second.

  New Active Skill: Lumberjack

  People see a nice tree; you see a spear. Hippies everywhere hate you. Though you can take down a tree with a nice axe or saw and turn it into useful materials. Later, it might seem that you can cut trees down with just your hands. Watch out, Bruce Lee!

  Level: Novice level 3

  Effect: 9% increased speed and damage to cut down trees

  Cost: 10 Stamina/second

  Dave continued to pound the rock down into fine gravel. He checked his map even as he swung. The movements seemed almost second nature to him.

  He looked at the map, seeing that he had a good idea of all the different herbs and edibles in his area. There were also some possible ore veins Zombie Dave had noticed and added to his map.

  After another hour of slamming away at the rocks, he scooped up the gravel. His bag was still weighing quite a bit.

  “Going to need that house sooner rather than later!” He laughed to himself and pulled out a sharpening tool. He started to get back the blade on his pickaxe as he got a new prompt.

  New Active Skill: Maintainer

  You don’t just buy gear; you invest in it and take care of it as if it were a soul-bound pet. Weird, but everyone has to have a hobby!

  Level: Novice level 1

  Effect: 5% chance to restore durability; at higher levels, possible to increase durability, quality, and gain Sharpen bonus to items that have been cared for.

  Require: Dependent on gear; sharpening stone, hammer, anvil. Better maintainer’s tools lead to higher chance of increasing stats.

  “Means that Brenna won’t be getting any of my copper marks anytime soon.” He reached the site he’d left just a few hours ago. There was a level area already. Trees had been cut down, stripped of branches and bark, and were in the process of drying.

  “Well done, zombie me. You’re not such a deadbeat.” Dave nodded, pleased. “I really need some new jokes,” he admitted, heading over to the twenty-foot by fifteen-foot foundation.

  Dave tipped his bag of holding, thinking of the gravel. It started pouring out as though he was holding a dump truck in his hands. He guided it over the area. It finally stopped some time later. Dave pulled out a rake and pushed it around, evening it out.

  That done, he dug a decent-sized hole with a small channel leading to it. He took his bag and headed down to the river bank, where he’d spotted some open clay deposits.

  “Nothing but dig this, hammer that, cut that.” Dave sighed and a smile covered his face.

  It had been so long since he had done any actual real work. It felt good to get dirty and in the middle of everything. He pulled his shovel out of his bag and marked out a plot, dumping clay into the bag. It got covered in muck but the hungry bag just took it all in. It was getting close to mid-afternoon when he stopped.

  He stretched and grabbed the bag, which felt pretty heavy. He left his clay pit and sprinted for the hill. His Stamina drained as he was carrying more than he could be expected to haul. He forged onwards, getting up the hill and to his plot. He dumped his clay out into a pile.

  “Time to get messy!” He formed a chimney out of his clay, making a rack with sticks and more clay. He put an air hole out the opposite side of the small front trench; he’d made an arch so he could feed wood through the front.

  That done, he got a fire going in the chimney. Once it was good and raging, he stoked the fires up, putting a covering over the top of the chimney. Smoke came out of the top hole.

  He used the rocks to make a work surface. He cut out slabs of wood and created a box. Clay went in; blocks of compressed clay came out. So it went; he continued making bricks and feeding his fire. The blocks finished up quick. He moved to the wood. It had already dried and was ready to be used.

  In Emerilia, things changed quickly.

  He trudged back down to the clay pit. “Suzy would throw a fit if she saw me now.” He looked at his clay-covered pants and shirt.

  “Fuck!” He slapped mud on his forehead. “I only have one set of clothes. Shit.” He pulled off his shirt and chucked it in his bag.

  “I’m going to need to get a new friggin’ wardrobe.” He rubbed his face. He’d started off with a bit of stubble but it was quickly becoming a fine beard.

  He laughed, just enjoying all of it. He looked around at his part of paradise and continued digging.

  ***

  Lox looked at the human/dwarf gather up his clay, hauling it back up his hill.

  “Unnatural that, living above ground.” Lox stroked his black beard. He had scars on his hands and one over his left eye from past battles. Even though he was five and a half feet tall, he was powerfully built. The cotton shirt and pants that provided some padding were stretched by dense muscles. He rolled his shoulders, feeling naked out of his armor.

  “Sometimes people like the sunlight,” Deia, his Elven counterpart, said.

  She was dressed in green and brown leathers that made it hard to see her from just a few feet away. Where Lox was muscled and hefty, Deia was built like a runner, light but powerful. Everything she did was with the unnatural grace and unrivaled beauty of the Elven.

  The Dwarves of Gonhal and Elves of Hesoom Forest had been in alliance for generations. The Elven rangers were natural scouts; coupled with a five-dwarf warband, they could range patrol far away from their clans. The Elves were the eyes and the Dwarves were the muscle. Even though they were short, they were strong and fierce. Armed with their shields and swords, they were a force to behold.

  Lox grunted at Deia’s words. Lox didn’t have high Affinity levels, but being a dwarf, he had an innate sense of the Dark and Earth.

  Deia had gone searching and found the human/dwarf and reported back. On the hill to Omal, where they were supposed to build a trade outpost between the Mithsia and Kufo’tel clans, a halfling had appeared.

  Deia had observed and watched. The hill had been scouted out for months. It was easily defendable and gave the wagons coming from Mithsia and Kufo’tel a place to rest before continuing to Omal.

  The villagers who had elected to settle on the hill were already on their way with four other Dwarven and Elven guards. They were clearing a path through the forest. It was slow work but it would become the road linking the outpost to the clans.

  Other than the high-level mobs, Lox and his warband hadn’t seen anything of interest. It was their job to make sure the area w
as clear of threats and keep it that way until the rest of the outpost’s settlers reached the hill.

  Then the halfling showed up. He’d broken land and had worked tirelessly to build his home.

  Lox wasn’t used to homes that lay out in the open and Deia said that she’d only seen similar buildings in human settlements.

  The strange man reached down to the ground; a few moments later, Lox felt the Earth magic, searching for the secrets of the land.

  It wasn’t powerful, but he could almost sense the potential.

  “Interesting,” Deia said. She was connected to the forest as Lox was connected to the mountains. Both of them shared a love of the land. It was what made their alliance only natural.

  Lox shared a look with Deia. They both felt the potential of the man who paused a few hundred meters and touched the ground again.

  “With the proper training, he might be quite the Seeker,” Lox said. Seekers were Dwarves trained with their ability to understand the land to find rich deposits and bring great wealth to their clan.

  The man’s head whipped around, settling on Deia and Lox. They were a good eight hundred meters away but it seemed as though he’d heard them.

  Lox tightened up and gripped his short sword.

  The halfling shrugged and continued on his way back up to his rudimentary kiln.

  “Or maybe a ranger if he was able to understand his instincts,” Deia said.

  It was clear that this was an interesting man.

  “I will report this to our elders. Stay here and keep a watch of the halfling. It might be of interest to us to greet our new neighbor,” Lox said.

  “You’re only saying that because he’s another dwarf,” Deia said.

  “Us Dwarves have to stay together,” Lox rumbled.

  Deia’s elegant eyebrow arched in amusement.

  “Though we also know the value of a true friend.” He gave a rare smile and tapped Deia’s arm.