First Login (Chronicle Book 1)

by Kevin Murphy

  The expeditionary force erupted into action, each member dropping and forgetting about their lunches or frantically scarfing down a handful for their desired regenerative effects.

  As the groups of people arranged themselves in rough combat formations, the first—and untransformed—tribesman again raised both hands palm-upward above his head. The light-blue spiritual apparition of a frog leapt into his palms from the thin air beside him. As soon as the frog spirit had landed, the tribesman widened his stance, cupped his hands around the spirit, and shoved it into his chest. A pale blue light briefly outlined the tribesman and his eyes glowed brightly. His frame began to bulge and widen as his slack skin pulled tighter. As his legs elongated and deformed, it sounded as though bones were snapping. The tribesman’s form continued to mutate until he had reached a bold girth, powerful legs, and a horrific face resembling human skin stretched to look like a frog’s, save for the eyes which remained the same, smaller size.

  At the end of the tribesman’s transformation he let out a loud, croak-like bellow and sprang into the air with speed that belied his size. He landed on a group of three, crushing one and knocking the other two aside. The frog-shifted quasi-human’s tongue shot out of his oversized maw and grabbed the leg of a knocked back man. The frog dragged the man inward slowly and crushed the downed man’s head with a powerful kick from its enormous hind leg. When the monstrosity turned its head toward the other downed man, the last of the three scrambled away at full pace. The frog hopped accurately and crushed the man’s attempt to escape.

  The scene was horrifying and the fact that three tribesmen were casually attacking such a large force did nothing to inspire confidence. What was perhaps even more confidence breaking, was the apparent manner by which the frog tribesman could finish men off with only a single attack.

  Sift, the over-trained martial artist, and Saden, the yet unknown, from the previous day walked forwards toward the cat and bat duo. Dakkon skirted around the pair toward their flank. Cline readied his bow and fired a shot which the cat nimbly jumped out of the way of.

  The releasing of Cline’s arrow marked the start of Sift’s charge forward. The bat flapped its wings and took to the air, locking its sights on Cline, who had loosed the arrow. The bat began to dive just as another 10 or so members of the force loosed their own arrows and ranged magical attacks. The bat tumbled in the air, avoiding the brunt of the attacks.

  Though the cat dodged the initial arrow, it landed just as Sift’s body dropped to the ground and he threw his full weight behind a sweep at the creature’s four legs. The cat was taken by surprise and its legs were swept aside dropping it to the forest’s floor, but the creature’s spirit-granted agility allowed it to tumble away before the follow-up axe kick from Sift’s heel had a chance to pulverize it—leaving a hole in the ground, instead. The beast rolled back to its feet. Though Sift pursued the monster, his approaches were no good. Each time, the creature would lunge aside where it could swipe at Sift’s outstretched limbs in relative safety. While this pattern repeated again and again, Sift kept the beast’s attention away from the approaching Dakkon who moved into position behind the beast.

  The bat weaved through the air, acting as a distraction for the various ranged attackers of the expeditionary force. If anyone tried to attack the frog, the bat would dive at them. Even if the bat didn’t strike, attacks made by the players would rend their allies in friendly fire. The frog continued to jump onto small groups in the force, picking them off one by one. Its incredible burst mobility plus its thick skin allowed the frog to shrug off most incoming attacks.

  Sift feinted a strike at the cat by shifting his weight, causing the cat to lunge, then darted directly into the correct path taken by the elusive cat. Dakkon knew this was an opportunity created for him and dashed forward to strike. Seeing Sift’s aim, the cat’s body arched and leapt at him, brandishing claws to finish off the foolish man who had gotten in its way—but just as it was going to rend the martial artist, the creature’s arms and face slammed into a large, square barrier of white light. The confused creature was punished with an elbow to the side of its head from Sift as Dakkon sliced then plunged his dagger into the manimal’s back.

  [You have slashed an aberrant tribesman for 230 damage.]

  [You have stabbed an aberrant tribesman in a vulnerable location for 472 damage.]

  The cat ripped free of its predicament, knocking Dakkon off his feet. The creature let out an irregular cry which caused the bat and frog to pause then back off. An opportunist saw the creatures’ now uncertain state and rushed forward toward the frog. The creature’s tongue lashed out, coiled around the man, and pulled him into its mouth head first, crushing him until his legs dangled limply as the frog’s cold, tiny eyes watched the others. Then through the application of powerful legs and wings, as quickly as they had come, the three left.

  The expeditionary force had lost 17 members. The force’s teamwork and response to the attack had been pitiful. They hadn’t even managed to kill a single attacker, and a chase into the unfamiliar woods as the force was now would only lead to more men being crushed to death or otherwise ambushed.

  Saden walked up to Sift and patted the martial artist on his back. “Damn I’m good,” he said. “I knew the barrier would work.”

  Sift looked slightly dismayed by the statement. “You were uncertain?”

  “Relax, Sift,” said Saden. “I hadn’t done it, but I knew it would work. It’s a spirit barrier. They’re spirit-infused creatures…”

  “In bodies of flesh,” said Sift with a sigh. “No matter.” The martial artist turned to Dakkon. “Thank you for your courage.”

  Dakkon nodded, then looked around at the carnage that only three enemies had caused. “Our current methods aren’t any good,” said Dakkon. “We need better groups with better tactics.”

  Sift lowered his head for a second in agreement.

  Cline rushed over to speak. “Dakkon, several of the players have player-killer marks on their cheeks from accidental friendly fire. I don’t have one, right?” Cline appeared to be in a bit of a panic.

  “No. Can’t you check that from character info?” asked Dakkon.

  “I just wanted to make sure,” replied Cline.

  “You loosed the commencing arrow,” Sift said to Cline.

  Cline nodded, a bit unsure of whether or not that was a mistake.

  “Well done,” said Sift, simply.

  “Well, if we aren’t four players who actually did something,” said Saden with a cocky smirk. “Let’s group up and get to know one another.” It wasn’t really a question.

  The others agreed. After joining Saden’s group, Dakkon wanted to know what sort of skills the group was working with and what it was they were lacking. “Can you heal, Saden?” he asked.

  “No,” the man robed in gray replied. “Exorcists are more about separation than unification. Let’s just say I’m a support and heavy damage dealer when it comes to spirits—which we appear to be fighting.”

  Dakkon was sure there must be more to the class. Being strong against one, and only one, type of enemy seemed like an awful path to follow, but Dakkon didn’t want to divulge his secrets either so he let the matter slide.

  “Sift is technically a monk, but he’s mastered nearly every discipline he has access to in the martial arts,” Saden said. “So, comparing him to a normal monk is like comparing a lake to a watering hole.” Saden looked thoughtful for a moment before adding, “Seriously. He’s the real deal.”

  “Are monks straight-up damage dealers in Chronicle?” Dakkon asked.

  “That depends on their disciplines. Monks can master a style then move on and master a different one in the martial arts tree, so if one person trains long enough they can do it all,” said Saden. “And here he is.”

  “I’m a heavy damage dealer,” said Dakkon. “I can also trick an enemy to turn around a few times each combat.

  Saden nodded. “Seems useful if you want to backstab something.
Can you take a hit?”

  “Not likely,” Dakkon replied.

  “How about you,” asked Saden of Cline. “Standard ranger or something fancy?”

  “More or less a standard ranger,” said Cline without any of his usual enthusiasm on the subject.

  “I’m not complaining. It seems like the four of us can really dish out the hurt,” Saden said. “We seem to be in need of a healer and a tank, though Sift should be a good stand-in for the tank at least.”

  Sift nodded once in agreement.

  “I know a shaman here who can heal somewhat,” said Dakkon. “She’s been preoccupied until now, but I’ve got a feeling this mess might change her mind.”

  “Nice,” said Saden. “Well then; go forth, my emissary, and bring her into our ranks!”

  Dakkon wasn’t sure if Saden’s antics would get annoying quickly, but for now he’d enjoy seeing what sort of trouble the staff wielding exorcist managed to get himself into.

  Spotting Zelle proved to be an easy-enough task, as she was one of the shamans standing amongst several summoned, pale-blue spirit animals which licked the wounds of those injured in battle. The ethereal tongues of wolves lapping against the injured served to staunch blood flow and seal opened flesh.

  “Zelle,” said Dakkon. “That last encounter didn’t go so well.” Dakkon paused for a moment and Zelle turned to face him. “We’ve got a group together, but we’d all like to not die for lack of a healer. Are you dead set on staying with the other shamans?”

  “No,” said Zelle sullenly. “Honestly, they’re pretty much all pricks. I’m beginning to understand why that Damak guy was so skeptical that we would work together. I’ve learned nothing of use and three of the other shamans died doing basically nothing to resist.” Zelle sighed.

  “That’s great,” said Dakkon. “Well, no, I mean I’m sorry to hear that—but you’ll be a real asset, I assure you.” Dakkon smiled awkwardly.

  Zelle smirked a little at Dakkon’s words. “All right then, you’ll have to introduce me.”

  The two tried to convince Damak to join them as well, but working for the city of Tian meant that his role was less malleable to his whims than the others. With Damak unable to join at his leisure, for now the group would have a monk for a tank. Dakkon had seen that work all right in some games and terribly in others. He would just have to wait and see which way this game leaned on that subject.

  Zelle briefed the others on what she was capable of. She could heal, of course, and attack with spiritual bees as she had done before. She also had spells which could remove status ailments such as poison; she could imbue a sense of confidence with a spell called ‘Daring,’ which apparently made difficult situations easier to bear; she could create a thin, translucent armor of spiritual scales around players which would absorb some incoming damage and turn aside weak missile attacks; and she could even scout the area with a spirit animal which attempted to warn of approaching danger, although she admitted it would be a great deal more useful if they were stationary, as the bird was likely to warn her whenever they passed anything mildly threatening. In other words, compared to everyone else, she could do a lot. Dakkon was now, more than ever, being seduced by the path of the shaman.

  The other members of the expeditionary force similarly split themselves into more optimal groups. After the surprise attack, most were slow to act and some did nothing at all. In upcoming fights, a repeat performance would likely lead to the end of the mission—and they had each already invested a full day into the quest.

  After only a few minutes rest and an extremely quick and unheated meal for most, the force marched onward. Zelle set her little flying humming bird to dart around and warn her of any more approaching tribesmen. She also cast her protection spell, forming a small pangolin above a player’s head which descended into them, disappeared, and was replaced by dull, translucent, turquoise scales which covered everything save for one’s face. Zelle successfully cast the pangolin armor on Dakkon, Sift, Cline, and herself, but as soon as the scales formed around Saden, they melted away like butter in the sun. Saden told Zelle not to worry about it.

  Watching magic fall away from Saden piqued Dakkon’s curiosity. While they walked, Dakkon covertly experimented with various thermomantic abilities on the exorcist—all of which seemed to work as intended, as evidenced by Saden’s gripes about the temperature. Dakkon assumed what he’d seen must be some form of anti-spirit magical protection granted to exorcists—but even that didn’t fit after he saw another, similarly dressed exorcist with protective scales in a different group.

  Chapter 24: If it Bleeds…

  The procession moved onward. About an hour away from dusk, several shamans’ spiritual alarms returned at once—foreshadowing the start of another dangerous situation. The expeditionary force did not overlook the spiritual alarms and halted to cast spells and otherwise prepare for an upcoming fight. Dakkon used the time to refresh his mana supply which he had been draining to half then refilling while he trained on the road. By the time all preparations had been completed, the wind had ceased blowing amongst the tree tops. No scurrying or scraping of animals could be heard. An unnatural stillness settled upon the forest.

  They came forward from each direction. Nine tribesmen in unique, grotesque, bestial forms. Earlier that very day, a group of three had finished off a fourth of the expeditionary force without a single casualty of their own. This time, however, the force was prepared and split off into roughly even portions to face each tribesman as a separate mini-boss battle.

  The tribesman nearest to Dakkon’s group stood on four, equally proportionate, legs with a meter-long neck. Atop its head were two mildly bowed, ribbed horns which were tipped with sharp bone points. The fleshy abomination looked to be built for speed. It dashed forward toward Dakkon’s party, but was halted by the impact of slamming into an immovable, white sheet of Saden’s barrier magic. The sudden, jarring stop left the creature dazed and reeling. By the time Sift and Dakkon were upon it, the creature’s two front legs had been impaled by Cline’s arrows. Sift connected with an open palm to the back of the beast’s head, slamming its face down into the ground while Dakkon stabbed into the creature’s side.

  [You have stabbed an aberrant tribesman in a vulnerable location for 490 damage. An aberrant tribesman has been slain.]

  [You have gained 515 experience! EXP until next level 4,221/6,380]

  As the tribesman died, the dull blue of the spirit imbued within him leapt out of his back and disappeared. The tribesman’s form did not revert to its original state, but its body no longer glowed.

  The group’s first kill had been swift—the cat from their previous encounter must have been at the very cusp of death before its timely retreat. The other groups were not faring quite as well as their own, and a faction near the center didn’t appear to be engaging the attackers at all.

  A large, gorilla-like monster mowed through people in twos and threes—knocking them around with its powerful arms. Two new flying tribesmen had appeared as well, upping the enemies to 11 total. They darted between the trees and dived to assault the backs of already-engaged human combatants.

  As had been decided after the last battle, every shaman with the ability to do so focus-fired their swarm-of-bees spells at the flying tribesmen which fell out of the air, writhing and clawing at the stinging masses. Expeditionary force members with ranged weapons made pin cushions of their bee-covered antagonists.

  As his allies were slain, the gorilla-type tribesman let out a bellow and charged toward his nearest target—Cline. Sift intercepted the furious apeman with a shoulder to his midsection and grabbed the beast’s arm. The monk acted as a fulcrum as he assisted the monkey’s momentum up and over his shoulder with a tug on the beast’s arm. The gorilla was tossed over Sift’s shoulder and laid out flat on its back, the full impact of Sift’s attack having knocked out its wind and left it on death’s door. As Dakkon moved in to finish the job, Sift darted away toward his next opponent.

&
nbsp; [You have stabbed an aberrant tribesman for 278 damage.]

  [You have stabbed an aberrant tribesman for 261 damage. An aberrant tribesman has been slain.]

  [You have gained 525 experience! EXP until next level 4,746/6,380]

  Cline left his impact on nearly every tribesman by aiming precise, crippling arrows which reduced the speed and ferocity of the foes. Saden moved from tribesman to tribesman suppressing each one with a barrier while its adversaries recovered. Other exorcists mimicked his actions to a noticeably lesser effect—unable to outright stop a beast at full sprint, they could at least slow it down. After realizing that some anti-spirit magic was being employed to great effect, a group of exorcists banded together to attempt exorcising a tribesman. The process took time and concentration, but four combined exorcists managed to remove the spirit from a larger, lumbering tribesman—reverting it to its man-like state where others could easily handle it.

  Though the expeditionary force had lost another six combatants, they had managed to take down eight of the 11 tribesmen. The victory of numbers was a panacea to the force’s fatigue and restlessness. They had shown that they could face the tribesmen and come out on top. The exorcists and shamans played pivotal roles in reducing the damage sustained from the fight, and now the former knew that they could extract the ancestor spirits from an already transformed tribesman. The resurgence of success, purpose, and drive was almost palpable.