The Trapped Mind Project (Emerilia Book 1)

by Michael Chatfield

  The game creators thought it would be unfair to call someone level 50 if they hadn’t invested the 250 stat points they would get from the previous levels. So, you could be fighting a level 50 but they only had 100 stat points invested. You’d think that they are a lot stronger than they really are and make it unbalanced.

  Here, if you invested the points, then your overall level became higher. If you acquired stat points from anything other than leveling up, it did not make your overall level increase.

  “Hiya, buddy!” Bob grinned as Dave stepped onto his porch. Bob sat in what appeared to be a recliner while Dave took the crude Muskoka seat he’d made.

  Lox had made him submit a patent for the chair after trying it out. Dave shrugged and did so. It seemed quality seating was in high demand and patents were a good way to make some easy gold.

  “Hey, Bob.” Dave sat in his chair, his twin axes poking out of the side as he felt the day’s training on his back and shoulders.

  “Should work on your Conjuring of organics,” Bob said.

  “Huh?” Dave said, half-listening, his eyes closed in bliss as he relaxed after hours of running, hitting, stabbing, and mostly getting his ass beat up by two fierce women.

  “I’ve always wanted to try some human booze,” Bob said.

  Dave opened his eyes and looked to Bob. “Wait, I can… Wow, why didn’t you say something sooner?” Dave asked. “Going to need to find the breakdown of Guinness by element, then find the properties here. Need to make a damn periodic table and see which items match what. Find the combination. Can’t have fake beer.” Dave browsed through the Internet to find out information on his favorite brew.

  As Bob had said, the more Dave knew about varying items, the higher quality they became when he conjured them.

  Bob had shown it with a BLT sandwich. Dave created it. It smelled heavenly: thick-cut bread with nice, thin bacon, crunchy lettuce, and ripe tomatoes. Then he’d taken a bite. It looked and smelled like a BLT but it tasted like cardboard.

  He was not going to do the same with his favorite beer!

  Bob laughed as Dave skimmed through information, new thoughts filling his mind.

  It was a few minutes later when Bob was able to pull Dave’s eyes from his Internet browsing. “Do that later. For now, I’ll answer some of the questions you had,” Bob said.

  “Like about the NPCs, us, and other Humans?” Dave said.

  Bob looked at Dave and tapped his armrest in thought. “Okay. Though I have one condition.” Bob turned serious.

  Dave pushed his interface to the side, turning so he faced Bob completely.

  “I wish for you to become one of my agents,” Bob said, his constant humor falling away.

  Dave rubbed his face in thought. “What would it entail?” He was not about to walk into this blindly.

  “Good—most people jump at a lord saying that; they’ll give them a blessing!” Bob cracked a grin before he became serious again. “First, I will tell you of what became of humanity.”

  Dave nodded.

  Bob puffed on his pipe, sitting back and collecting his thoughts. “A large population of humanity was held on Earth. Others had been sowed across tens of systems. I’m still not confident that we found all of humanity. You people are as smart and sneaky as you are brilliant and fun. We abducted every human we could find on Earth, stuffed them into cryo pods. We took them apart until we knew how to make you. Once we had that information, we destroyed Earth and Mars, killing any Humans left behind.” Bob’s face looked troubled but he continued on.

  “We created Emerilia at the same time. Players were grown and their minds linked to the simulations of the twenty-third century. When they logged onto Emerilia, their consciousness was moved to their host body. Upgraded with enhanced abilities to control Mana, better strength—you get the idea. At first, we had just Players like yourself and NPC constructs—androids and such. We had to can the first two Player iterations as they killed the NPCs and found out that they were robots. Broke the whole immersion process.”

  “So, wait, the Players are test-tube babies?” Dave asked.

  Bob nodded.

  Dave looked troubled, looking at his arm and the interface. I’m me—doesn’t matter how I was born.

  “So are the NPCs. We grew them, less strengths and other items. Then we put them into different simulations. Dwarves, Elves, Humans, gnomes, Goblins, Orcs: all of the sentients were and are created that way. We populated Emerilia again and let it leak that there were Humans on the planet. A new iteration of Players was created and Emerilia took off.” Bob shook his head.

  “The program was close to being shut down. The resources to turn Emerilia into what it was were immense. Though, in a single cycle of Players being introduced to the planet, we stopped requiring power, but actually started having a massive power output. Through the Affinity Pantheon, the Jukal Empire were able to harvest the energy of People of Emerilia, or POE’s and the Players

  “Players started creating things that we had only theorized. Your minds are a mix of aggressive and peaceful; given into a game where your possibilities seemed endless, you didn’t care about boundaries. You went for it.”

  Dave could see a light in Bob’s eyes, excited and driven. The scientist who had started Emerilia—saved a race and watched them grow.

  “For decades, Players added to our knowledge and grew. They went through the portals and destroyed the aggressive races that threatened to overpower the Jukal Empire. Hell, humanity started to come out of their hiding spots to try to rescue their people from Emerilia. We opened portals, making it impossible for you to understand your cousins and Players in battle. In the end, it was not the Jukal Empire that destroyed humanity; it was just their unknowing slaves who thought that they were playing a game.” Bob’s voice was heated, taking a moment to try to cover the anger with a cough.

  “Any who came to Emerilia, we destroyed or harvested to be used as genetic material. Same with the planets and hiding spots. There are undoubtedly more out there, but they have not shown themselves in centuries now.

  “Players stopped being interested in Emerilia. The order was given to shut down the server. Players left thinking that the servers were being turned off and Emerilia was dying. When they logged off, their consciousness was never respawned by the Altars of Rebirth. They simply died, never knowing that Emerilia was real.

  “It didn’t take long for more aggressive species to come to light. The NPCs were decent but they were more sedate; Emerilia was their reality. They didn’t respawn and they were fighting one another enough that adding in aggressive species to clear would have been useless. We got a new batch of Players, put them into the simulators of the twenty-third century. Sped up their lives. In a year, we had mature Players filled with the enchantments, magical circuits, and interfaces that the previous Players had perfected. We sent them off to deal with the aggressive species and watched as humanity dealt with the Jukal Empire’s issues. The Affinity lords and ladies came into effect with the fourth iteration of Players. The power coming from Emerilia was crazy then.”

  Bob smoked, a sad smile on his face.

  “You continued to innovate, create, and fight with every fiber of your beings. It was that life which spawned the Emerilia broadcasting network. Emerilia was broadcasted to every planet and then it all changed. Instead of Players being brought to Emerilia in order to fight the aggressive species, you were animated for entertainment and the possible financial benefits that the Jukal Empire could milk. Humanity has evolved power generation and technological advances for the last five hundred years. The portals are closed at times so that the aggressive species can regenerate their forces. Their planets have been altered in order to make them spawn faster and be stronger. The Empire lost sight of their goals. War became entertainment instead of a feared practice.” Bob’s words came out through gritted teeth, his body shaking in anger.

  Dave could see it now. Emerilia wasn’t just Bob’s project and construct anymore. I
t was his home, his reality. The planet and its people were his home and his people.

  “That is what happened with Emerilia and with humanity,” Bob spat. “And I was the idiot who started it all.”

  The amount of self-loathing was palpable. The jokes and humor were just a way for Bob to cover his inner struggle and pain.

  “So, do you want to become an agent of the man who enslaved the human race?” Bob asked, knowing that Dave wouldn’t.

  “Maybe,” Dave said.

  It was Bob’s turn to look shocked at Dave.

  “Yeah, you made Emerilia; yeah, you made us unknowing slaves. You wanted to protect what was your Empire. Now, you’re just stuck watching your home and your people being used by that same Empire. Your creation has been twisted and changed. If you didn’t care, then I’d come for your head. Instead, you’re here, talking to me—for whatever reason, I don’t know—and you’ve admitted your faults. You did people wrong and used them. Yet, I didn’t know them. I don’t really feel for them. Maybe that’s just cold, but it’s reality and human. Those are two things I do know.

  “I’m not going to let the Jukal Empire control my life, or the lives of my friends. I’m not going to let a bunch of stuck-up gods playing worldwide chess screw around with the People of Emerilia. I might not become your agent, but I will be your friend.” Dave let out a small smile. He couldn’t do much more with the weight of history weighing down on him.

  Bob looked away, sniffing and rubbing the side of his face. “Ugh, got allergies with this big darned gnome nose!”

  Dave’s smile grew; he saw through Bob’s embarrassment.

  It was a few minutes until Bob looked back, a smile on his face and no signs of tears. “Well, if you’re going to fight, you’re going to need a teacher.” Bob smiled.

  “Huh?” Dave said.

  “You’re not just expecting to know everything about the skill after reading some book, right?”

  “Course not.”

  “Conjuring is the art of materialization; that said, the more you know about the item you want to create, the stronger you can make it. There hasn’t been a Shadow Conjurer—ever, I think. You’re pretty rare and people are going to notice a rare power like that. So, we’re going to have to hide it,” Bob said.

  “How?”

  “Impatient, huh?” Bob laughed. Dave shrugged, the gnome wasn’t wrong, magic was pretty sweet.

  “Okay, so, you can materialize items from pure energy and thought. That said, the power draw to make items is going to be massive at the beginning. Think like a nail draining all your mana. Your thought guides the mana into conjuring an item. You don’t need to make entire swords, but if you could add a finer edge to it, or hit from the shadows to maximize your damage. Few people will know about your power. Oh, and if you want to make weapons and armor, it might be an idea to work on your smithing.”

  “Smithing has nothing to do with magic.”

  “You’d be surprised. Though I’m not talking about it for the magical aspect. I’m talking about expanding your understanding of the objects you want to conjure. The more you know about the conjured item, the more powerful it’s going to be,”

  “Then I could hide the fact that I conjured the item, instead saying that I forged it instead.” Dave nodded his head. He rather liked the idea of staying out of the limelight. He’d had enough of it as Zane.

  “Cool! When can I get started?” Dave asked.

  “Whoa—you don’t even know how to swing a sword properly yet. Give it time, have some patience here. Small steps to a big goal,” Bob said.

  “Okay.” Dave sat back in his chair and smiled.

  “First, you need to work on conjuring up some damned beers,” Bob muttered, his voice just loud enough for Dave to hear.

  It was Dave’s turn to roll his eyes as he laughed.

  “Now, let’s keep it simple, stupid. Gimme a dagger,” Bob said.

  Grey smoke pooled in Dave’s hand, forming into a fine-looking dagger.

  “Bah! Look at that binding! More Mana than craft—get to know the materials better. Need to re-learn your periodic table—look at that tin content!”

  Dave sighed. It was going to be a long night.

  Chapter 14: The Road to Omal

  It had been two months since Bob had sat here with him as he learned how to conjure weapons. They’d gone over enhancing weapons Dave was using. Then how Dave had bound his shadow enchantments to his arrows against the bear.

  Dave found that he could create them in the sky, dropping them onto whatever was below. It was hard to estimate where they’d land but he was getting better at it. He was now looking closer to a level 30. The majority were well above him in terms of experience, grinding their levels and gear with mob hunting, quests, raids, and portals.

  The Dwarves quieted as Dave took a seat on his porch.

  Lox cleared his throat. “We have a request of ya, laddie, and a proposition from our lord.”

  Dave had seen the messenger arriving but he hadn’t paid it much heed. “Spit it out—no need to stand on ceremony.” Dave smiled as the other Dwarves relaxed a bit.

  “We’re going out on patrol, looking for any mobs around here and to survey a portion of the land from here to Omal. The Dwarven and Elven clans have many goods that they wish to sell but no way to get it to the other lands. It is Lord Fend and Evo’Mael’s hope to build a road to this outpost and then to Omal. Give our wagon trains a place to rest and a position of strength to push back the higher-level creatures plaguing the area.”

  Dave nodded. He’d assumed something like that was going on.

  “We ask if you would join us on our patrol. You might have a low level but you have shown yourself to be a worthy ally and dwarf of honor.”

  Dave looked at them all.

  He thought of the families who had moved in, looking for something other than their ancestral homes.

  In the smithy, Dwarves were fixing their gear and those that came to them. They’d agreed to teach him what they knew when they were free in payment for using the smithy. He wanted to know more about weapons in order to grow his ability as a Shadow Conjurer.

  He also wanted to see the outpost grow and prosper. He’d only known them for a short time but he could see the energy in their eyes. They could really make something of it in the outpost.

  “Of course, I’ll come with you! Is it even a question? Though I should warn you, with a road from here to Omal, you will not only be opening up trade routes—you’ll be inviting Players in, though they will probably be looking to kill higher-level mobs and have some decent wares to sell. Others will look to harm and harass,” Dave said.

  “How do you know that?” Max asked, the question curious instead of accusatory.

  “I’m a Player as well, or I was. Now I’m a resident of this world, just with some extra gifts,” Dave said.

  There were a few moments of silence as Deia and the Dwarves took that knowledge in.

  “I was wondering how you knew how to make this house. Certainly isn’t like any others that I’ve seen or heard of.” Gurren tapped the wooden porch.

  “So, you would be able to send out a message to the other travelers, telling them of higher-level mobs and they would willingly fight them?” Tounk asked. “Are they insane?”

  Dave laughed. “A little bit, but when we die, we are revived in special locations. We, like you, have figured out ways to fight the mobs, using aggro and other techniques, though from the forum posts, it looks like the Alturarans through the portals don’t act like mobs.”

  “The portal to the lands of the Alturarans is open?” Lox said, fire in his voice.

  “Yes—what’s wrong?” Dave said.

  “Those creatures are a curse and blight on this land. They want nothing more than destruction and use their Dark tendencies for evil means.” Lox’s words were hot and angry.

  “Well, isn’t Dark evil?”

  “Not inherently, my boy. The Dark is of all things that are not living
; the rocks, the ores—they are from the Dark. A rock is not bad unless it is imbued with Dark magic to form a rock golem. All Dwarves have a spark of Dark and Earth in them.

  “They work with the Dark and the Earth in order to create and prosper. We can construct golems, though we do not touch the inanimate of the dead. Necromancers and the like have used the Dark on the inanimate and no longer living, and imbued them with terrible purpose, bending them to their will in order to harm and hurt. The Dark is powerful as it does not feel pain or remorse. The Alturarans waded into the Dark so much that they did not only command the Dark forces, they have replaced their own light, their bodies, and placed it within Dark creations.”

  “Well, that is pretty crappy. It also means that someone can be of the Light and be completely evil while someone of the Dark can be good.” Dave lost himself in thought.

  “It is not a person’s Affinity that makes them what they are. It is their actions,” Lox said. The other Dwarves muttered their agreement.

  “Well, if we have travelers coming in the area, you need to be warned. They are smart and conniving; they see this only as entertainment. Someone who has been killing mobs all day and then is told something they don’t like could attack as they don’t see you as people, but figments of their imagination,” Dave warned.

  “We have measured the risks; that is why we have not tried to force anyone to come here. We will found a town here with your blessing. With that, we can cast magical runes for defense that will strengthen our forces within to deal with any traveler or creature.”

  “I thought this was more people than you would need for a simple outpost.” Dave smiled.

  “Of course, you would get a percentage of profit from items that passed through this area. Dwarves pay their debts.”

  “So, about this patrol?” Dave asked, waving the subject away. Dwarven honor was not something to be questioned.

  “As you said, we will need to take wagons from here to Omal and that requires roads. We wish to see how they do business, as well as defeat any mobs that might bring danger to those who come to this hill. Will you party with us to kill mobs and found a road from Omal to Cliff-Hill?” Lox asked.