Original Enchantment (True Calling LitRPG Book 1)

by Thad Ward

  “Just clear anything dangerous from the vicinity, start a fire, and chill for a bit,” Ada said. She sat down on a patch of grass and rummaged in a belt pouch, producing a tinderbox very much like Ike’s. “We’ll get a notification when the system considers it a camp.”

  Ike sat across from Ada as she got the fire going. “Well, this has been fun so far. When do you plan on logging back on?”

  Ada smiled at him. “How does half an hour sound?”

  “Works for me,” Ike said. A minute later, he saw the notification.

  You are in a rest area.

  “There we go. Back in a bit,” Ada said. Ike tried not to look conspicuous as he watched her, hoping to get some hint about what she was doing to log out. Ada laid back on the grass and closed her eyes. A few seconds later, her colors started to blend as if she were using stealth, only the effect grew more pronounced until Ike could barely tell her apart from the scenery. Then the edges of her form faded and she was gone.

  Ike walked over and inspected the patch of grass where Ada had been. It wasn’t just that she was invisible; her body had vanished entirely. “Okay,” Ike said, “now it’s my turn to try.”

  Everything else about the game’s interface so far, like seeing an item window or a character sheet, told Ike it was controlled by focus. He returned to his spot, laid down, closed his eyes, and tried focusing on logging out. When that didn’t work, he imagined pushing an off button. Then he tried to drift off to sleep. “There’s no place like home. There’s no place like home,” he recited in frustration.

  Ike finally sat up. “Why won’t this work?” Without imminent danger or company to distract him, the uncertainty of his situation came rushing back to the forefront of his thoughts.

  It was clear this game was a form of virtual dive experience, or VDX, a computer system designed to interface directly with a person’s brain. Sensations would be broadcast to neurons and muscle impulses would be intercepted and interpreted by software, all to make the user feel like the simulation was real. Most people used VDX headsets to dive, but serious users like Ike had complex extended dive rigs that looked more like cybernetic sarcophagi. You got in and the rig’s systems took care of your bodily needs, allowing you to dive for days or even weeks at a time.

  Ike used his rig as part of his job, both for programming and for VDX conferencing once or twice a week. It beat having to commute or travel for conventions. He’d used it for gaming in the past but had been between games before waking up in True Calling. Lots of people used VDX for socializing, attending sporting events, going to concerts, and the like. It was so common that it was a primary means of interaction for many people in his generation.

  The problem was that the first and easiest feature of any VDX software was logging out. Government regulations required it. The more common issue was logging out too easily. Social media was filled with video clips of embarrassed students or office workers who inadvertently logged out of a class or meeting, accidentally signaling their intent to the software out of sheer boredom.

  “Something very weird is going on,” Ike said aloud. “There’s no way I’m doing it wrong, which can only mean...” He gulped. “I can’t log out.”

  Ike tried his best to remember what he was doing right before waking up here. There was a vague flash of memory, like something from a dream. He was stumbling through his apartment and opening his rig. Had he climbed in? He was prone to sleepwalking, so it was possible.

  The explanation assuaged his fears some. At least his body was safe. It was still weird to be in a game he'd never heard of, and something was definitely buggy. Work would understand his absence after he explained things. He just needed to contact the game masters to get himself logged out.

  A clear chime tolled from the area where Ada had logged out, stirring him from his revelation. She appeared a moment later, fading into view in much the same way that she had faded out. She got up and stretched. “Okay. Got all that surface dweller stuff taken care of. You ready to take on the Wailer?”

  “Yeah, just one thing really quick. Do you know how to get in touch with a GM?” Ike asked. “I’ve got a bug with my interface.”

  Ada raised an eyebrow. “Anything serious? We can do the boss some other time.”

  Ike shrugged. He considered just telling Ada but didn’t want his inability to log out to derail the quest. “Yes and no. Nothing that should affect the fight, but I’ll need it taken care of soonish.”

  “Gotcha,” Ada said. “We’re still in the first week, so I’m sure they’ve got some unexpected kinks to work out. If you need to get in touch with a GM, you just need to pray.”

  Ike blinked in surprise. “Pray? Seriously? Isn’t that a bit… pretentious?”

  “Heh, yeah,” Ada said. “Plenty of folks are up in arms about it online. Lots of chatter about ‘cancel True Calling’ and ‘godless gamers’ and all that. But the devs insist it’s to preserve immersion. I guess it makes sense. If the NPCs and serious roleplayers see you pray and then something about the game world suddenly changes, there’s a sort of consistency to it.”

  “Okay then,” Ike said. He rose and turned his head until he found a quiet spot nearby. “Let me go take care of that and then we can head back in.”

  Ike knelt next to an old-looking oak tree just out of Ada’s earshot and clasped his hands together. He’d never been religious; some of his immediate family identified as Christian but weren’t church-goers. The whole thing felt awkward.

  “Oh devs who art in the issue queue,” Ike started. “Hallowed be thy code. Thy commits merge without conflict. Thy will be done in production as it is on local. I’m sure you guys are busy and all, but I can’t log out. I’m pretty sure that qualifies as high severity. Can someone escalate, please? I’m in an extended dive VDX rig, so my life’s not in danger, but I need to get out to call work and feed my cat.” Ike paused for a minute, wondering if he was doing it right before a notification popped up.

  Your prayer has been heard. A game administrator will review your issue and respond shortly.

  Ike felt slightly disappointed at the boilerplate response. “I’m not sure what I was expecting,” he commented to himself. “At least it’s in process I guess.”

  Ike returned to Ada, who was double-checking her gear and cloning trap materials. “All good?” she asked.

  “As good as it can be for the moment,” Ike said. “They’ll get back to me. I figure I’ve got some time to kill while I wait.”

  “That’s not the only thing we’ve got to kill,” Ada said, flashing a wicked smile. She held up a fist to him. “Let’s do this thing.”

  Ike returned her smile and bumped Ada’s fist, striding past her toward the dungeon entrance.

  Chapter 7

  Boss fight

  “A

  re you sure you don’t have any info on that thing?” Ada whispered. She had stealthed ahead to take a look at the Wailer. Her eyes were wide and Ike noticed she was quieter than necessary. They stood at the dining hall’s halfway point and had made a decent racket earlier without drawing the boss.

  “It’s not just that I don’t have anything on it,” Ike responded. He kept his voice down for her sake. “It’s that Identification doesn’t work on it. Period. I’ve seen the ‘your Identification skill is not high enough’ message on a few things, but the Wailer says ‘this monster cannot be identified.’ My guess is that’s how it is with bosses. At least the difference in messaging tells us it’s special somehow.”

  Ada shook her head. “Rats, skeletons, oozes. You see things like that in most fantasy RPGs, so you know what to expect. The one time you need Identification and it’s ineffective? Lame.”

  Ike shrugged. “It’s all about the thrill, I guess. It can be fun fighting something without knowing what to expect. And besides, killing a boss is supposed to be an accomplishment. I’ll bet a lot of them are unique, one-off things like the quests.”

  “You may be right,” Ada muttered, “but that’s all bad
news for us. Unique monsters are always stronger than normal monsters. Not having any hints in advance makes it even worse. It could be you need a full party to beat this guy.”

  “No way to know until we try,” Ike said. “Before we start, there’s something important I forgot to ask. How forgiving is death in True Calling?”

  “It depends,” Ada said. “A lot of folks who’ve died say they got lucky and survived somehow: They fell unconscious for a while, got taken captive, got an NPC to resuscitate them, that sort of thing, usually with some health drain or missing items. So it wasn’t great, but they got through it. Others die for real and lose everything. They have to start from scratch in a different area of the world. And the world’s so big they might as well be dead and gone to anyone who was playing with them.”

  “Got it, so no friendly respawn point,” Ike said. “Is there any pattern to who gets an ex machina and who gets death with a capital D?”

  Ada held up a finger. “Nothing solid, but the theory is that there’s no safety net for stupidity. You won’t usually die from being unlucky, but the game has no patience for idiots who run off cliffs on purpose. A lot of folks found that out the hard way over the first few days. I saw a video of a guy taking a swan dive off a tower like he was some sort of assassin. He missed the pile of hay he’d been aiming for with predictable results.”

  “Ah yes, the ‘hold my beer’ crowd.” Ike laughed. “So no imitating Wile E. Coyote. Got it. That begs the question, though: Does taking on this boss count as suicidally reckless?”

  Ada took a deep breath. “I guess we’re about to find out.”

  “Do it like we planned and see if it sticks?” Ike said.

  “And run like hell if it doesn’t,” Ada added as the two began their preparations.

  The fight began with the thrum of Ada’s bowstring. Concealed in a corner near the entrance of the throne room, her arrow traced an arc across the intervening span, sinking into the unsuspecting creature’s shoulder. The concavity that marked its true mouth distended in a furious howl as it lurched to its feet and turned toward Ada. All of its faces seemed to fixate on her at the same time as it began loping in her direction.

  Ike felt the Wailer’s voice more than heard it, taking it as his cue to step into the doorway. Ada was already in motion. The two exchanged a serious look as she darted past him, spun on her heel, and snapped a second arrow over his shoulder. The arrow found its mark, though it was difficult to tell if it did any appreciable damage as it sank into the Wailer’s bulbous, oozing flesh.

  As the creature built up steam, Ike’s confidence that he could stop it at the doorway wavered. He had figured, if he focused on defense, he could block most of its attacks and buy at least a few seconds for Ada to whittle it down. Now that the Wailer was barreling down on him, Ike realized how seriously mistaken he had been. It had to be over two and a half meters tall and maybe as much as two hundred kilograms from the tremors it produced. Ike would simply be swept away by the Wailer’s sheer bulk and momentum without being able to offer meaningful resistance.

  Ada fired one more shot before ducking around the corner into the dining hall. The monster made no move to dodge, allowing the arrow to impact its torso. Ike dug his heels in and prepared to meet the force of the charge.

  The monster was three broad strides from Ike when it hit the first trap. Its foot snagged on a snare that pulled sharply in the opposite direction. It fell forward just in front of Ike, triggering Ada’s second trap. A set of wooden spikes erupted from the floor, piercing the Wailer in half a dozen spots from its neck down.

  Ike’s job had been to draw its attention and stay in position. It had taken more nerve than he’d expected, like playing chicken with a pickup truck. As the monster thrashed and wailed on the floor in front of him, he clicked the heels of his boots together, activating his Biding enchantment to make the most of the Wailer’s disadvantage.

  Ike brought his bat down in a rapid succession of strikes, focusing less on the force of each impact and more on the number of attacks. It didn’t keep the Wailer from rising to its feet; Ike was pretty sure a jackhammer couldn’t have pulled that off. As Ike’s bat struck faces, however, he saw them close their eyes and dissolve into the creature’s girth. Now that he was up close, he could see the spots where Ada’s arrows had struck were likewise faceless.

  As the creature rose to a knee and prepared to lunge for Ike, he backed up a step and brought his bat against his shield. Unlike his previous attacks on the Wailer, this attack was as heavy as he could make it. Ike closed his eyes as bat and shield connected, opening them again a moment later when he realized his plan hadn’t worked. His strike hadn’t caused the shield to lose any durability.

  The Wailer seemed happy to correct that blunder for him. Its indistinct fist – more of a pseudopod – hammered forward at Ike. It stepped into the blow, heedless of the spikes on the ground, bringing its full mass to bear. Ike already had his shield up and braced against the unstoppable force only to be abruptly lifted into the air and flung a meter backward as the two chambers filled with light.

  Health: 2 / 6

  Your Dazzling Shield has broken.

  Pain exploded through Ike’s arm and back. His vision swam. He tasted blood. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he registered that one solid hit from the Wailer had taken more than half of his health and reduced his shield to zero durability. “I’m not cut out to be a tank,” he wheezed, scrambling to get back on his feet. His left arm hung limply at his side, the pieces of the shield clattering to the floor uselessly.

  The Wailer had resumed its howling, only this time it seemed to be in surprise and pain more than anger. All of the creature’s faces bore looks of anguish and had their eyes shut. Even the angry red pinpoints of light that were its true eyes flashed as if disoriented.

  Two more arrows sprouted along the Wailer’s side, causing it to sweep blindly in that direction. Ada was crouched a dozen meters away. She gave Ike a thumb’s up and resumed firing.

  Ike knew charging in was a stupid, reckless thing to do, especially now that his shield was gone, but every opportunity mattered. Biding had been fully charged when he’d activated it, so he still had a few seconds. He rushed in, dodging the monster’s wild swings, and nailed the Wailer in its grotesque head.

  The Wailer thrashed blindly in Ike’s direction, missing so badly he didn’t need to dodge. Visibly infuriated by its inability to swat the flies pestering it, the upper half of the Wailer began to bubble. Its arms and faces became a single, frothing mass. Ike didn’t like the look of it and jumped back.

  Not a moment too soon. The top of the Wailer exploded into a rain of inky black goop in all directions. Even with his speed, Ike had a hard time avoiding all of it. To his horror, he could see angry faces on many of the larger globs. One passed inches from his face, its expression one of utter malice.

  Ike had taken a knee in his desperate attempt to avoid the area of effect. He looked toward the Wailer. Much of its top half was gone, but most of the dark matter it had ejected was seeping back toward it along the dungeon floor. It would only take a few seconds to reform.

  Ike looked back toward Ada and knew he didn’t have time to take advantage of the Wailer’s weakened state. She had dropped her bow and was clutching at her face, attempting to pull off the wailing face that had taken its place. Beneath the black mass, Ike was sure Ada was blind, suffocating, and terrified.

  “Sorry for this, Ada,” Ike said as he rushed to her aid. He knew she couldn’t hear him as he raised the bat and swung. He tried to control the force, make it just enough to do damage without doing very much.

  The blow connected on the side of Ada’s head. The face screamed and dissolved into a puddle at her feet. She fell to her knees, coughing and grimacing. “Thanks,” she wheezed.

  Ike planted himself in front of Ada as she collected her bow. The Wailer’s upper half was resolving back into its previous appearance, all of its eyes opening as it turned back toward them. I
f the Wailer hadn’t seemed hurt before, it was feeling it now. Fewer than half of its original faces appeared on its skin. It began loping again, each step coming a little faster and heavier than the last as it built up momentum.

  Ada reached back to find her quiver empty. She rose from her crouch and moved to run.

  Ike put a hand on her shoulder to stop her. “Not yet!” He nodded behind them. “Remember that spell you don’t use very often?”

  Ada gave Ike a panicked look, then put a hand on the ground and cast a spell before squaring off against the monster with him, every muscle in her body tensed.

  The Wailer was less than a meter away, its shadow looming over them as it barrelled forward like an angry bull. Ike activated Biding. It had only had seconds to charge, but he only needed it to work for a fraction of a second. He shoved Ada to the side, using the leverage to launch himself in the opposite direction. The Wailer hit the spot they had been standing at full speed, then the tripwire Ada had laid with Quick Set a split second after that before tumbling forward.

  Directly into the gelatinous cube.

  Ada and Ike both wheeled around to see the creature seemingly suspended in midair. It thrashed madly, its skin bubbling, its howling a distant gurgle within the mass of acid. It cast one last, hateful glare at both of them before its struggling ceased. The lights of its eyes flickered out. The faces on its body faded into an amorphous, black blob.

  You have gained experience.

  You have completed the first objective of the quest: Cleanse the Cursed Fortress.

  Chapter 8

  Finding the secret door

  T he two stepped back without taking their eyes off the spectacle. “Shit,” Ada said, her voice filling with awe as she watched the gelatinous cube dissolve the boss. She reached up and removed the cloth she’d stuffed in her ears. “What a way to go. I mean, it couldn’t have happened to nicer nightmare fuel, but still. You okay?”