“Just go for the wolves, I will take care of the big guys, okay?”
Fletch whistled a quiet affirmative and took off into the air. He circled up and flew over the temple, a bright yellow spot in the blue sky. He reached up with a talon and took an arrow from his beak. With sharp eyes he aimed and let it drop. Then, he quickly took another.
…
The three Brutalli were not players; they were NPCs. It was their job to guard the temple from anyone or anything that tried to enter. They were designed to do one thing, and they did it well.
“I’ve never seen a hawk like that before,” one Brutalli grunted. At his feet, a wolf yawned and kicked its legs. It must have been dreaming about running down some helpless prey.
Another Brutalli stopped sharpening his axe to take a brief glance upward. He snorted, “Wasphawk. They come from up north.”
“It’s carrying sticks. Think it’s building a nest?”
“Why don’t you do your job and watch the ground? I’m not worried about a hawk trying to break into this place,” the other Brutalli, wearing black armor painted with one red stripe on each shoulder to mark him as the group’s leader, resumed his axe-sharpening.
An arrow hit with a dull thump - killing a wolf instantly. Oblivious, the Brutalli did not know that their pet was dead. The next arrow was not as accurate; it struck the belly of its intended target, a spot that does not lend to quick deaths. With a howl of pain and terror, the wolf jumped up and rain to his master, trailing blood.
“We’re under attack!” the Brutalli leader shouted.
“Where from?” another shouted as the final arrow buried itself in the ground - totally missing the third wolf, which had already moved.
“It’s that hawk! Watch the ground? Do your job?”
“Shut up. A hawk can’t be alone. It’s a Hunter.”
“Hopefully Agilus.”
All four Brutalli were alert and primed for battle. The leader had his enormous axe out and ready. The others drew their swords and glanced around them.
The leader stooped and pulled the arrow from the ground. He examined the head and the style of the fletching, smelling both of them. Then, he bit into the arrow’s shaft, tasting the wood.
He turned to his group, “It’s an Agilus, female. Probably Explorer, they generally use this type of bodkin arrow. If she has a wasphawk working for her that makes her, what?”
“Level Twenty at least,” one Brutalli replied.
The leader nodded, “This will be a challenge, but we can do it. Let’s hunt the Huntress.” He turned to the wolf that had been untouched, “Find her.”
The mangy black wolf began sniffing the air. Four Brutalli watched intently as the wolf found a scent. The beast took off toward the rocks, snarling furiously. It made about ten steps before an arrow flew from the rocky outcropping and whizzed straight down its throat. The wolf fell over dead; yellow fletching sticking out of its toothy mouth.
“She’s over there. Stay together.”
…
Athena gritted her teeth and ducked back behind the rock. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Slowly, her bright red fur turned a dull gray, closely matching the rock she leaned against. Dusty gray spread across her body, including her armor and her bow, until she was a bump in the rock.
Four anxious Brutalli passed between her outcropping and the one next to it. She did not breath, and remained perfectly motionless. They kept walking, keeping their backs to each other. Every nook and cranny was checked and double checked. Athena had been wrong about their intelligence. They were smart.
Athena had hunted bigger, nastier, and smarter prey. She had learned that every creature takes certain things for granted. These Brutalli wrongly assumed everything that looks like a rock must be a rock.
The rock slowly moved as Athena quietly drew an arrow from her quiver. She stopped when the Brutalli guarding the rear swept his eyes over her. Silently, she knocked the arrow, drew, and released.
A yellow blur darted through the air, straight into the right eye of the Brutalli guarding the rear. A dull plink echoed off the rocks. He gargled and dropped to his knees. Athena froze.
“Stop,” the leader said calmly. “She must be close.”
All three Brutalli turned in unison and searched the rocks behind them. One of them suddenly pulled a knife from a sheath on his hip and flung it. It clattered off the rock inches from Athena’s face. She flinched.
Gray became red and green as she sprinted the short distance to the Brutalli. The last thing they had expected was for her to charge; they were caught off guard. Athena’s long knife flashed out and sliced across the leader’s forehead, spilling blood into his eyes. The other two Brutalli swung at her with their swords as she flipped up and over an outcropping. She was gone.
The leader growled and wiped blood from his eyes, “Follow her!”
Both Brutalli gave chase. They ran around the rock that Athena had darted behind. One of them ate an arrow almost immediately; Athena was three for three on headshots so far. The other wheeled around in terror, searching desperately for Athena. A pair of violet eyes would be his last memory.
“Why do you hide, little Huntress?” the leader barked. He stood alone among the rocks, blood spilled across his face from the slash on his head.
“Why can’t you find me?” a rock several feet away from the Brutalli moved forward, becoming an Agilus holding a long knife. The knife flashed down, and it was over. A huge axe clattered on stone.
Athena looked up at Fletch, who was circling overhead. He let out a triumphant screech. The great bird of prey folded his wings and dove for the ground, slowing to a hover before striking earth. Athena reached into her pack and pulled out a bright red berry. She tossed it in the air, and Fletch darted forward to snap it up.
“We’re not done just yet. I haven’t a clue what’s in that temple, and I don’t want you to go in there and get killed. I can come back; you can’t,” Athena faced the entrance to the temple.
The bird understood, and waited patiently on the gnarled branch of a dead tree.
Athena confronted her next obstacle. Twisted black vines covered the temple. Once green and flowering, they were withered by foul darkness that spread from within the temple and worked its way into the forest below. Dried vines wrapped around tall pillars made of smooth black stone, and spilled out of cracks in the walls.
Athena quietly slipped through the crumbling entrance. Light flickered off the walls; the light source was somewhere deep inside. Athena heard murmuring and strange clunking sounds. She kept her bow taut and ready as she padded through winding corridors.
She rounded a bend and found herself at the entrance to a cavernous room - a gloomy sanctuary. Strange darkness made the air heavy. A fire roared at the far end of the room, throwing light out at the walls.
A figure moved behind the fire, muttering strange incantations and waving its arms. The figure swam forward, becoming an Electar woman wearing dark flowing robes. Her black hair drifted in the intense heat. She threw something into the fire, and blue flames licked out, bathing the room in an eerie glow.
“My guards must be sleeping,” the woman suddenly spoke with a deep, regal voice.
Athena raised her bow, “They probably won’t wake up.”
The woman stepped around the fire and faced Athena. Her voice carried across the sanctuary, “I never liked using Brutalli. They’re a little on the slow side. But I guess you’ve figured that out or you wouldn’t be in this room.”
“Why are you here? Whatever you’re doing is killing the forest.”
The Electar woman replied, “How strange that your question contains its own answer, Huntress. The dark can only exist where there is no light.”
“Leave this place at once, and take your evil with you,” Natalie was fully in character. A shy girl from Wales stepped back to reveal a bold and powerful Huntress.
“I’m afraid that I will stay and you will go, Huntress.”
The woman threw up her arms. A dark creature - a giant clothed in shadow - burst from the flames. Without pause, it rushed for Athena, red eyes burning in the darkness. It held a large single-edged sword.
Two arrows passed through the monster as if nothing were there. The creature snarled and continued its charge.
Athena notched a third arrow, and let it fly. Again, the arrow passed through the shadowy form, but ended up in the throat of the sorceress. She gargled in disbelief and fell to the stone floor. A puff of smoke marked the shadow creature’s exit.
Boldly, Athena walked over to the roaring fire. She found a metal staff leaning against a wall, presumably one that belonged to the sorceress. She used it to scatter the fire around the room, until the heat and smoke were nearly unbearable. When Athena was satisfied with her work, she dropped the staff and backed out of the room.
Fletch had bided his time by preening himself. He squawked happily when Athena exited the now blazing temple. Acrid black smoke poured into the sky, billowing up and blending with the clouds. Fletch buzzed into the air and gave a loud cry of victory mixed with a tinge of relieved joy.
“You missed me, didn’t you? It’s nice to be missed for once,” Athena paused, her smile turning down slightly. “Let’s get back to the Keeper. He’ll be happy that I did his job for him.”
In goat form, Athena picked her way down the rocky hill at a brisk pace. Upon reaching the bottom she changed into a swift cat and ran silently through the wood, which was already a little greener. The cloud of death was lifting from the forest as if a shroud had been ripped away. Tiny buds and leaves sprouted from the Keeper’s tree.
The Keeper was happy. He grinned at Athena as she looked up at him, “Good work Huntress. I’m feeling a lot better, and so is my forest.”
“I’m glad. Where is my bow?”
“Well,” the Keeper replied, “it’s over there.” He pointed out to the end of a tree branch, from which hung a shiny black bow, as long as Athena was tall.
“It’s pretty. But there are a lot of pretty bows out there.” Athena pulled it down from the branch. She turned it over in her paws, inspecting it with sharp violet eyes. She drew it tight, listened to the creak, and gently relaxed it.
“Tap it on the ground twice,” the Keeper suggested.
After two taps, the bow wiggled and snapped into a long staff, made of the same dark gleaming wood as the bow.
“Wow,” Athena whistled. She gripped the staff and swung it experimentally. Then, she tapped it on the ground twice. The staff bent, and a bow string snaked out, snapping tight as the bow returned to its original shape. Athena grinned, “That’s quite amazing.”
The Keeper grinned back, “Any target that is hit with an arrow fired from this bow or struck with the staff will have a chance of being trapped in a tangle of roots. You can call it the Keeper’s Bow.”
“Thank you.” Athena reached up and shook paws with the little creature, “If you ever need more help, give me a call.”
“I will, Huntress. Take care.” The Keeper faded into shadow, and totally vanished. Decay crept across the tree’s green leaves and warm branches, turning them dead and gray. Another brave Hunter would be able to take up this quest.
Athena sighed. She activated her recall, heading back to Ra’ah to show off her new bow. After a brief victory tour of the taverns, she would sign off and go to sleep in her cathedral of a bedroom.
Alone.
Excerpt from “Limerick’s Guide to the Flora and Fauna of Verdia”
Dragons
I’m often asked what I would bring to the real world from Verdia if I could. Regardless of my answer, about half the time the other person will say “Really? What about dragons? Wouldn’t that be cool?”
No, it would not be cool. Dragons are awful, even the little ones. Imagine taking the jerk from high school that was always trying to start fights, and giving him wings and the ability to breathe fire. That’s a dragon. (Without the satisfaction of having him bag your groceries ten years later.)
I assume you flipped to this section because you need to know how to kill a dragon. You came to the right place because I’ve murdered a few. Heed my advice, and you will soon be sporting some snazzy dragon-skin boots.
Your ability to take on dragons is really dependent on your level. In theory, at Level One you could walk out of Verdia City with a wooden training bow, and shoot a Rainbow Dragon (Yes I was the one who named it. Deal with it.) through the eye. The odds of this David and Goliath scenario playing out are pretty astronomical. I wouldn’t attempt it.
In practice, no one has killed a Rainbow Dragon despite many attempts, but many high level folks have died trying. So before going any further make sure you are in your league. Here is a list of example dragons and the ranges that can handle them. Always bring friends regardless of your perceived ability level; someone will need to bring your stuff back to you after the dragon poops it out.
Lesser Dragons 1-5: Flamestriders (Flightless) and Daggerwings (Flighted)
Lesser Dragons are the only dragons that will flee battle if the odds are not in their favor. If you are fighting one and think you are going to lose, using a flashy damaging ability or spell may scare the dragon off. On the other hand, if you do not kill them quickly they may bolt, forcing you on a dangerous chase.
Striders can get fairly big, which is why they are used as mounts. Some species have nasty flame bursts.
Daggerwings are very fast and you will need some archery skill or ranged spells to take one down. Unlike the larger dragons, they will never engage you on land. You will need some sort of ranged ability. Smaller targets are better until you build some confidence.
True Dragons 5-15: Lisks (Flightless) and Drakes (Flighted)
Now, we are getting into bigger territory with the “True” Dragons. They are called “True” because they are now big enough to pose a serious threat to any player regardless of level, and because they more closely resemble what we think of as a traditional dragon. They will not run away from battle until one of you is dead.
With Lisks, you don’t have to worry about fire or flying, but they are large and heavy. Don’t take them on alone. Watch for the tail.
Drakes resemble your traditional “fairy tale” dragons and can easily take out an entire party of unprepared adventurers.
Greater Dragons 15-25: Koopas (Flightless) Leviathans (Aquatic) Kogan’s Dragon (Flighted)
Koopas live in caverns and cultivate massive fungus farms for sustenance (seriously) but they are not to be trifled with. Fighting an angry three-story turtle in a pitch black mushroom forest is usually a no-win situation. Myrmidon, Pierce, and Iceblade took one on before they met me, but their versions of what happened vary wildly.
Leviathans are peaceful, but will destroy any ship in seconds. They are killed by carefully snaring them in a net and beaching them before they know what is happening. I have done this once and immediately felt guilty about killing such a majestic creature. The guilt melted away like garlic butter when we grilled up some leviathan steaks: culinary heaven.
Kogan’s Dragons are fairly rare due to their size and the massive territory they need. Only one has been killed. (By Kogan of course. I originally named them Black Dragons but ceded the name to him. You don’t argue with a guy who can beat to death a dragon the size of a commuter jet.) He had just hit Level Thirty-One at the time, but he was alone. A determined group of experienced warriors should be able to deal with one at lower levels.
Prime Dragons 25+: Rainbow Dragon (Flighted)
The Rainbow Dragon is the bad mother of Verdia. A total of ten have been sighted (six male and four female.) The males are often mistaken for Kogan’s because of their size and shiny black color. The females are never mistaken for anything else. A full grown female has a wingspan of over one hundred feet. Their scales are iridescent and seem to be impenetrable. If you kill one let me know how you did it…
That’s all you get for free. If you would like to purchase this guid
e, visit www.guidetoverdia.com See you in Verdia!
Chapter 8
Another Hungry Mouth
The Haven Valley
“It has to be this cave.” Haymaker studied a map on his Character Manager, “We’ve checked everywhere else in the valley.
“Figures it’s the last place we’d check. How’s about you go in first, Rex?” Bishop took a swig from a bottle of bluegrass tea he had brought with him. His left arm was bandaged. Magic healed wounds; bandages prevented scars.
An angry mother lisk had attacked Bishop at the previous cave - she protected her babies fiercely. Rather than try to fight the giant lizard, Bishop and Haymaker had ran like scared little girls.
Haymaker looked squeamish as he peered into the cave’s dark maw. He shuddered, “Why couldn’t we bring an NPC?”
“Because, if one of our servants gets eaten and dies, we won’t get him back. I would miss him. Are you really that scared? You would sacrifice an NPC?”
“It depends,” Haymaker replied. “That dude who works in your garden is always lippy with me. We could send him in.”
“That’s a woman.”
“Really?” Haymaker frowned. “That explains a lot. Let’s go in.”
Haymaker grabbed a chunk of wood from the ground, and Bishop set it alight with a wave of his hand. The makeshift torch blazed as they entered the cave. Orange light danced and shimmered on the glossy marble walls. A strange warmth came from farther within the darkness.
“Smells like camping in here.”
Bishop raised an eyebrow, “What?”
“You know; the dirt, that musty smell that your tent gets...”
“-a campfire,” Bishop said. He was staring at something at the back of the cave.
“Yeah, a campfire.” Haymaker bumped into Bishop.
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