The SciFi Triple Pack

by Adam Drake

  “On levels?”

  “Levels, yes, but also for other things.”

  His Mark healed at the cost of 10 Blood Points per health point. I couldn't tell if that was cheap or not.

  Chak said, “You must also use Blood Points to craft items, like weapons and armor. But you will learn of those, too. Simply remember this: All things have a price in this Realm, and the currency is death.”

  Charming. I was beginning to believe this sim would be better suited for teenage boys rather than a middle aged female surveyor.

  I tried not to yawn. “So you want me to spend these points?”

  He nodded.

  I was about to ask how when a message appeared. Thought induced, no doubt.

  Purchase Level 2 for 500 Blood Points?

  “Yes, do it,” I said.

  Purchased. You are now at level 2. You have gained 1 talent point and 2 attribute points.

  When I told Chak, he nodded. “Now, bring up your talent tree.”

  I did and looked at the Bash ability.

  Bash 1/3

  Next point gives:

  Cost: 7 Power

  Cooldown: 1 minute 45 seconds

  This allows the user to Bash an opponent with greater force, causing greater damage and the chance to disorient them.

  +40% to Hit

  +40% Damage

  +25% to Stun for 4 seconds

  “Another point will boost its power,” I said. It looked straightforward enough.

  “Correct, but don't assign it just yet. Look at your Defensive tab.”

  The talent-tree switched over to the Defensive tab. A single icon sat at the bottom, but was grayed out.

  Devil's Dance 0/5

  Cost: 10 Power

  Cooldown: 10 minutes

  This allows the user to dodge all physical attacks with 100% success for a duration of 5 seconds.

  “Cool,” I said. Now that would be handy. But it didn't look like I could access it. “Why's it grayed out like that?”

  “Remember what I said,” Chak rumbled, sounding annoyed. “Everything has a price.”

  Frowning, I looked again and noticed words next to the icon.

  Unlock this talent for 200 Blood Points.

  I laughed. Figures.

  Chak said, “Each class begins with one free talent. All other talents must be unlocked.”

  “I pay to unlock talents, then pay for levels so I can have talent points to put in them? Huh. Sounds like a racket.”

  “Racket?”

  I shook my head and raised my hands. “So what you're trying to tell me is that I have to kill a lot of people to get the blood points to do all these things?”

  “Correct,” Chak said, grinning. Then he raised a finger. “I would advise you not to place your second talent point into Bash. Raise that ability later. Instead, save it.”

  “For when I unlock this Devil's Dance, then put it in there. Okay, now I gotcha. I'll wait.” It annoyed me to act all chummy with this vile worm, but when in Rome...

  Before I dismissed the talent-tree, I looked at the Passive tab which also had one grayed out talent.

  Power Play 0/5

  Cost: Nil

  Cooldown: None

  Increases Power regeneration by 15%.

  Unlock this talent for 350 Blood Points

  “What is Power?” I asked, dismissing the screen. I remembered I had 25 Power, already.

  “Power is a type of stamina. You expend it when exerting yourself, like running or fighting. But also when you use some abilities, like your Bash. It is crucial to manage Power wisely. If you run out of in combat, you will be unable to fight or even defend yourself.”

  Again, I resisted the impulse to yawn in front of the maniac with the acid staff. All this information was a little overwhelming at the moment, considering I just murdered two men and nearly died.

  Despite the info-dump, the fat slob hadn't shared anything that might get me out of here. I figured if I could progress through this story, or whatever this was, I might learn something. “So, you have another task for me?” Like finding the exit?

  The pig shook his large head. “One more thing before we move on. Place your hand on the Life Crystal.” He indicated the tall white crystal monolith which glowed on the other side of the pool.

  Wanting to speed things along, I did.

  Chasm Life Crystal

  You are currently bound to this Life Crystal.

  Upon death you will respawn at this location.

  Note: When you die all unspent Blood Points, and all worn Marks, are lost.

  My eyes widen at the last sentence. I lose everything? That's stressful. What if I wanted to save up for the next level or unlock a talent? I'd lose them?

  I shook my head, not amused. Just when I thought this place was brutal enough, I find this out.

  Chak grinned at my somber expression. “Yes, the price for failure is high. Very high, if you get too arrogant in your abilities. You suffer pain when you die, then suffer some more when you are brought back from the great beyond. Death is the way of the Realm, regardless of who you are.”

  This sim appeared to take great joy in making things most difficult for its players.

  “So, I die and come back here,” I said, having indulged that experience via tubby's acid staff. “Are there others? Seems like a tremendous pain in the butt to die in some faraway place, only to end up back here.”

  “There are many crystals spread across the Realm,” Chak said. “You need only find one, and bind yourself to it. Then you will respawn at the new location. Although, you need to be careful here in the chasm, as I believe this is the only crystal available.”

  This time I sighed and made no effort to hide it. My mental faculties had been stretched to the limit since the ship was attacked and I'd been running full tilt since.

  Chak scowled at my sigh. “Weakness is not becoming of a Berserker. Especially one under the Blood God! Perhaps you are not the right candidate for such an endevour.” He flexed his grip on the staff.

  Whoa, talk about a one-eighty. First minute he's a sagely teacher dispensing knowledge and the next he's borderline murderous.

  I took a step back and raised my free hand, mindful to keep the club down. “Hey, easy there, big fella. I'm just a little tired, is all. My day has been eventful, to say the least.”

  “Tired?” Chak barked. “I'll show you tired you sniveling little-.” He stopped, and suddenly turned his head to look up.

  Keeping him in view, I glanced where he was looking.

  Far in the distance the chasm wall stretched. Along its dark ridge, contrasted against the sky, was a sliver of bright red jewels. No, not jewels. Something else. As I stared, the jewels spilled down the wall, forming a red syrupy waterfall.

  Lava.

  It was too far away to be a threat, but it had Chak mortified.

  “Damn,” Chak said, his voice a mix of horror and revulsion. “He must know!”

  “What?” I said, relieved I was no longer the focus of his anger. “Who must know what?”

  “The Magma God,” Chak said, lost in thought. “I don't know how, but he must.” His blinked out of his trance and locked me with a determined gaze. “I suspect we are running out of time, Berserker. You'll have to learn as we move forward. If the Magma God is onto us, then we must move to phase two immediately. Follow me.”

  He turned and half-marched, half-waddled to the open gateway.

  For the loss of anything else to do, I followed. “We're in phases?” I asked, catching up to him. “What was phase one?”

  “Teaching you the way of the Realm and to prepare you for the coming conflict.”

  Okay. “What's phase two?”

  He glanced at me as he hurried along the pathway, his eyes gleaming, but said nothing.

  Fine, I thought. With little other choice, I followed.

  CHAPTER SIX

  As we hustled down the path to where, I had no clue, something bothered me. We were missing someth
ing. Then I realized it.

  “Hey,” I said, stopping. “There's something else you need to explain to me. I think it's important.” Like where my ship is and how the heck do I get out of this nightmare?

  Chak stopped, greatly annoyed. “What is it?” He cast a furtive glance at the distant lava flow cascading down the chasm wall.

  I brought up my character screen and pointed at a line.

  You have 2 unspent attribute points.

  “I got those when I purchased the level,” I said.

  The fat man rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Yes, yes. Of course. I'd forgotten. And you are correct. They are important. Very important.”

  It made me feel a little happy to see this sack of dung admit he made a mistake.

  He pointed at the screen which floated between us. “You must assign them to one of your four attributes. First is Might. Think of it as your strength. It determines how much you can carry, but more importantly, how hard you hit when attacking.”

  “So, I put them in Might?”

  “Wait!” Chak barked, holding a hand up. His annoyance was growing. “Although Might is vital to close-quarters combat, Reflex is just as important. Reflex determines your speed and how fast you can move or dodge attacks.”

  He paused, expecting me to interrupt. I didn't.

  Frowning, he continued. “Mind is mostly to do with magic and spells. It also is a measure of how smart you are. This is something your class does not rely on, but may become a factor in later levels. For now, ignore it.”

  The fact he told me to ignore it made it all the more interesting to me. But I kept silent.

  “Finally, Vigor. This directly contributes to your overall health. More Vigor, more health points. It also determines how quickly you recover from sickness and ailments.”

  He stopped talking and looked over at the lava flow. I waited, counted to three, then I said, “So... where do I put these points?”

  I expected him to snap at me, but he kept his composure. “Best to put one in Might, the other Vigor.”

  Nodding, I did as instructed. When I put the point into Might, nothing happened, nor did I feel any stronger. But when I did the same for Vigor, my health points jumped from 50 to 55.

  “Oh, hey. Nice,” I said.

  Chak's scowled at my smile. “It just means someone can beat on you longer before you die.” He waved his hand dismissively. “Enough of this, we must go.”

  Frowning, I followed after him. I wanted to prod him to explain the two skills listed on my character screen; Butchery and Hand-to-hand, but decided to wait. I didn't want to antagonize him into using that staff again.

  We moved down the stone-walled path, approaching the turn.

  “Wait a minute,” I said, slowing. “That's where I fought those guys. That thing I saw could still be there.”

  The blood priest paused, as if uncertain. “Skaggs, no doubt. Not a problem if they are left alone.” He pointed at the turn. “Go look.”

  No wanting to argue, I slinked up to the edge of the wall and slowly looked around the corner, just as I'd done earlier.

  The clearing was empty. No bodies, no scary monster.

  “Nothing,” I said, and Chak quickly brushed past me.

  We entered the clearing and stood at its center. The rocky ground was crisscrossed with bloody scratch marks and footprints. The woman's body left a complete impression in blood.

  Chak looked over the macabre tableau, and smiled. “Beautiful,” he whispered.

  “What? This?” To me, it was anything but.

  “It is like a work of art. A tribute to the Blood God. Your tribute!”

  Oh, for crying out loud. Couldn't this guy dial it down a little? But with the word blood in his name, what else would I expect?

  Instead of moving on, he felt compelled to say more. “Soon, you will make many tributes to the Blood God. Thousands! And he shall smile upon us-.”

  A noise from the other side of the clearing made us both turn.

  From another gap in the stone wall, three men stepped into the clearing and spread out. They looked nearly identical to the two before. Burned men.

  “Well, the Molten God glows brightly for us, my brothers,” the tallest of them said. He gripped a club similar to mine in a large, charred hand. “A blood pig with his blood sow.”

  The other two chuckled and grinned. Neither were armed with anything I could see.

  I turned to face them, planting my bare feet on the warm rocky ground, and hefting the bone club in my right hand. I felt more confident armed with it than the rock.

  To my surprise, Chak didn't cower, or hide behind me as I expected. Instead, he looked at them with exaggerated disdain. “Look bitch, this fleck of burned skagg dung is speaking to us. How amusing.”

  Considering the situation, I let his name for me slide. But I resolved to have a long conversation with him about it later. If there was a later.

  One of the other two burned men spoke up, both of whom were easily a head shorter than the first.

  “The Molten God has been looking for you,” Shorty #1 said with a sneer. “Figures you're the last priest. Wants you dead.”

  “Dead like your Blood God,” said Shorty #2. “Ripped to bits, wasn't he? Eatin' alive?”

  I felt Chak tense beside me.

  The Tall One said, “Hey, that's right.” He made a show of looking around the clearing, confused. “Where is he, your Blood God? Dead and dead. Ain't an easy thing killing a god. But yours was. Killed by the Molten God, may his heart always burn at the center of the world!” He raised his hands as he spoke, flakes of charred skin crackling off his body.

  The other two did the same, chanting together. “May his heart always burn!” May his heart always burn!”

  Are you kidding me? I thought. How much more goofy can this sim get?

  I noticed Chak was getting angry and shaking. Suddenly he shouted at them.

  “He was betrayed!” he said, spittle flying from his lips. “Betrayed by your god! They were allies! And like the craven the Molten God is, that simpering worm turned against him!”

  I was amazed at how intensely he spoke, his rage boiling over.

  The Tall One's grin widened. “Time for you two to join him. Dead god, dead priest, dead bitch.”

  I attacked.

  Not out of bravery, but it was obvious where this conversation was headed. Being the first to the punch while everyone was yelling at each other made sense.

  The distance between us was too short for me to have time to raise my club over my head, so I opted to use a tennis side-stroke. From waist height, I swung upward with all my strength at Shorty #2, the closest target.

  Already itching for a fight, the trio weren't caught off guard, but my sudden attack made them hesitate for just a moment while their brains tried to play catch up with events. Unarmed, Shorty #2 couldn't counter and impulsively raised both his arms to try and block my swing. It kind of worked, too, deflecting the club away from his face, but not before I felt a satisfying snap.

  Shorty #2 shrieked in pain as his left hand broke at the wrist, sagging at a painful angle.

  As he turned away, the Tall One swung at me with his club. My forward momentum brought me within his reach, and the coarse top of the club raked down the left side of my chest and cracked off my left knee.

  Sharp pain blossomed at the point of impact, but I still managed to twist out of the way of his backhand swing.

  Shorty #1 roared and charged forward tackling me around the waist. Despite his size, he pushed me back several paces, slamming me hard against the stone wall. The air coughed out of my lungs and stars danced across my vision.

  The little burned man kept me pinned against the wall, shouting, “Hit her! Hit her!”

  The Tall One didn't need encouragement, and moved beside us to better angle his next swing. Unable to move or duck, it was all I could do to block him from hitting my face, using my left arm.

  The club smashed directly in the crook of m
y arm, and I felt my elbow shatter.

  I screamed in pain, my head thrashing back and forth. The movement saved my life as the Tall One swung at my face, only to glance painfully off my temple and strike the wall.

  They're going to kill me. The thought rattled around my brain as if looking for a safe place to land.

  Shorty #1, hands clenching my sides, took a step back as if preparing to slam into my again.

  This brief moment gave me just enough freedom to swing my club at the Tall One.

  I used Bash.

  Without the ability, I might very well have missed. But regardless, my attack, coupled with Bash, caught the overly confident Tall One on the side of the head, right above his ear.

  His skull caved in like a thick-shelled egg, and he instantly went limp, collapsing to the ground.

  Shorty #2 saw this and changed from trying to slam me, to jumping on top of me. His arms wrapped around my shoulders, pinning my arms to the sides and causing me to drop the club. His legs locked around my waist and I stumbled back under the added weight.

  I hit the wall again, although his limbs took most of the impact. Before I realized what was happening, he bit at the side of my head, latching onto my ear. Snarling, he bite savagely, wrenching his head back and forth.

  Gasping in shock and pain, I screamed as he tore the ear off with a growl. My knees buckled.

  But instead of sliding down the wall something in the back of my mind made me lean forward. It was enough.

  We pitched over and slammed heavily onto the ground, Shorty #2 taking all of the brunt of it. He gasped, and I heard his head crack against the stone, but he didn't let go.

  The fall slid him further up my body, and I found my face pressed hard against his shoulder.

  Right by his neck.

  Without thinking, I turned my head sideways, mouth wide. I bit into the side of his neck, scaly burnt skin scratching at my lips. The taught muscle was caught between my teeth and I heard him scream.

  Now he released me, desperate to push me away.

  But I wasn't done. Instead, I clenched to him hard with my knees and my still functioning arm, keeping him close.