by Oliver Mayes
Lillian went into her menu to check the time. 20:31. The rest of them would be coming online any second now. She had to make herself look presentable. She took a deep breath and set her attention on the challenge ahead. Nothing had happened in the room after her and Andrew’s conversation. So it hadn’t affected the quest, after all. Lillian was both relieved and annoyed. She felt she deserved some token of appreciation for doing the right thing, but at least her testimony hadn’t been cheapened by providing her with measurable gain.
It was now 20:33. None of the players were here. What was going on with everyone today? First Andrew, now the rest of them as well? She went into the party chat and did what she did best: motivated them.
Lillian: Some of you aren’t here yet. We don’t have much time tonight. If you’re not coming, I’d like to know why.
Then she quickly opened Andrew’s chat box and typed him his own message.
Lillian: The message I just sent in the party chat doesn’t apply to you. Take as long as you need.
She hadn’t finished typing out the message to him when the first of the blue orbs appeared. It was Judgementday. Looking flustered. Her guild might have fallen apart but she hadn’t lost her signature charm. The other two orbs appeared behind him in quick succession as he garbled out perfunctory excuse number one.
“Sorry I’m late, I completely lost track of time.”
“That’s alright. You’re here now. Thanks for coming.”
Legolias was next, quickly followed by Mr. Healy. Legolias was more forthright about the reason for his tardiness.
“Sorry I’m late. I didn’t realize it was already eight thirty. I was watching Daemien’s stream.”
“Me too! I laughed my head off when he nearly died! He was doing so well, right up until he said ‘Yesss’!”
The three of them burst out laughing and turned to face each other. They’d all forgotten she was there. Judgementday was quick to pick up where Mr. Healy had left off.
“I know, right? Those jumps, though. I can hardly see what’s going on!”
“Meh. I could do better. I’d have that room done in about fifteen seconds. He doesn’t have nearly enough stamina or agility to support what he’s doing, and until he got the throwing knives he wasn’t even able to hit them back.”
“That’s why it’s so much fun to watch! I mean, come on, Legolias, you’re a ranger. I could cast Sanctuary and completely negate all the projectiles at the same time, but that wouldn’t make for good viewing now, would it?”
“I could Smite them, probably. They look plenty demonic to me. Don’t know if I could heal myself through the attacks, though. Daemien was completely right about what was in the chest, now he has a chance!”
Lillian had stopped paying attention to the conversation halfway through. The final blue orb had appeared. Andrew materialized into their space while the rest of them were still in full swing. They hardly even registered his arrival. It was just as well. He did not seem particularly happy.
Lillian had specifically told him to take as long as he needed. He didn’t look much better than he had when he’d left, five minutes ago. Yet he’d shown up anyway. Hadn’t he said he was watching something, before she’d cut him off to send him the picture? He was probably watching the same thing as the rest of them. Lillian had unsubscribed to Damien’s channel prior to starting the quest. She hadn’t wanted any distractions. Had he posted any of their fight against Archimonde, she’d rather not know about it until she’d finished her own business. Their argument had helped her decision. But her decision had left her out of the loop.
Judgementday was the first to acknowledge Aetherius’s presence, by bringing him into the conversation.
“Boss—,” he looked over at Lillian, terror in his eyes, “—I mean, Aetherius. Sorry. Aetherius, you’re watching Daemien’s stream too, right? What do you think? Legolias isn’t very impressed, me and Healy think he’s doing alright. What’s your take?”
“He’s doing well.”
“There! See? If Aetherius says he’s doing well, there’s no denying it!”
Lillian cleared her throat and the conversation died.
“Everyone, I’m glad you’re all enjoying yourselves, but there’s something we should be doing right now.”
She let her words hang in the air, making sure no one felt like contradicting her. When she was left unchallenged, she started issuing her orders.
“Open your menus. Open the Saga Online media page. Navigate to Damien’s profile page. Then we’ll all watch his livestream, together. We can take it in turns to guard everyone who’s not looking. I’ll go first.”
She’d watched the smiles slowly growing on their faces as she delivered her instructions completely deadpan. By the time she got to the end, Judgementday, Mr. Healy and Legolias were ecstatic.
“Thanks, boss! We’ll give you a running commentary!”
Lillian gave Judgementday a cursory nod, then turned her attention to Andrew. The rest of them were already in their menus, scrambling to return to the stream that had made them forget their own quest. Andrew was not buried in his menu. He checked to make sure the other three were all occupied, then spoke levelly to Lillian.
“You didn’t need to do that for me. I know you only did it because I’m still distracted.”
“That’s not entirely true. They deserve a break and they’re all distracted as well, just by Damien instead of me. I wanted to give them a reward and do something besides pursuing this quest with them, but after what happened with Hammertime...I’ve been pushing pretty hard. It’s time I…what did you call it? Switched off. We’ll watch how Damien does, together, then get back to it when he’s finished. We’re ahead of schedule, thanks to your hard work today. But I still need you in good shape for whatever comes next. You’re my co-leader, after all.”
Andrew’s face shot to the floor. She’d gone too far. He turned around, sat on the ground and opened his menu. Welp, at least she’d tried. No regrets. She hadn’t made it to her lookout position before one of her chat boxes pinged.
Aetherius: Thank you.
Lillian took a deep breath. And smiled. Finally. She’d achieved something of actual worth. She made sure the rest of them weren’t looking. Opened her menu. Navigated to Damien’s stream. Set the window in the corner of her HUD, so she could keep a lookout and watch simultaneously. Then, for the first time in a long time, she half switched off.
17
What We Do in the Shadows
Damien threw another knife. It sank satisfyingly into the center of his emptied rat-skin bag on the other side of the modest entry chamber. He’d increased the distance by degrees, trying various throwing techniques to see which one had the best success rate. His preferred technique had turned out to be palming the knives directly from his newly acquired sling, then throwing them in a straight line, point first. He’d been quite lucky to kill Gatz, the berserking warrior he’d inadvisably taken on in the Frozen Forest. Damien had thrown Shankyou’s Striking Dagger, which was much heavier and not at all designed for throwing, directly at his target’s face without any practice. He’d thrown that one from the handle. Oof. Hindsight remains 20/20.
He was considerably better at it with his right hand than his left, but it hadn’t taken long to make his left-handed throws passable. The knives did not survive being thrown into walls at high velocity. The durability had turned out to be related to the number of knives on the belt, and he was down to sixteen of them. Four of his left-handed throws at varying distances had not proven ideal. He was clearly better at it now, although he had no idea how much damage they’d inflict. Now he could at least hit his enemies and his health had finally fully regenerated, it was time to go test on live targets. Or whatever it was the Cave Urchins qualified as.
He’d left the viewer count up in the corner as he practiced, comfortable with adding a little pressure since he wasn’t at immediate risk. It had been hovering at around 42,000, but over the last five minutes it had steadil
y decreased. Time to get a move on.
“I guess that’ll do. Thanks for your patience and sorry for making you wait, but I’d like to get this right first time. These knives are much lighter than the daggers I’m used to. I still keep the stats from my holstered daggers while I’m using them, so that’s nice. It’s definitely a better option than throwing my equipped weaponry—”
His chat box pinged.
“Uh, I’m getting a message. Let’s see what’s up.”
It was from Lillian. Why was she messaging him now? He read the message out in his head quickly, tutted under his breath, then read it out for the benefit of his audience.
“Lillian writes: ‘Legolias has some “constructive feedback”’” – Damien did the air quotes, sticking his hands in front of him so everyone could appreciate the gesture – “‘regarding your movement. He’d like you to add him so he can write to you directly.’ Okay. Thanks, Lillian. You know what? Legolias is a ranger in Rising Tide I’ve met a couple of times. He clearly knows what he’s doing. I’m willing to see what he has to say. I’ll just pop his name into my friends list over here and wait for him—”
Legolias accepted his friend request the moment it was sent, and the text came up in the box two seconds later. He’d obviously copied and pasted it and hit ‘Send’. Good of him not to waste any time. Less good of him to use his precise word choices while Damien was livestreaming. Well, there was nothing inappropriate in there. Damien had already established how he’d respond to fan mail when he read out Lillian’s message. If Damien didn’t read this one out, he’d look petty.
“Legolias writes: ‘Duck and roll. You’ll use less stamina, you’ll be a smaller target, you’ll move more quickly over short distances and you’ll reenter stealth after not attacking for five seconds. It’s the basic evasive move for assassins and rangers! What’s wrong with you, man?’ Thank you for your valuable input, Legolias. I’m not an assassin or a ranger and have received exactly zero instruction on how to move efficiently in combat, since my class trainer is focused on spell-casting. I’ve had to pick it up as— Legolias writes: ‘Sorry, I didn’t know you’d read all these out loud.’ The more you know, Legolias, the more you know.”
It was a handy suggestion. Damien would try it, if the opportunity arose. It was time to get ready. He retrieved his bag and started replacing the items he’d strewn a safe distance from his makeshift target range. It was a modest assortment of equipment compared to having easy access to everything in his chest. He’d manage. His gear was not yet in total disrepair, not even the bag he’d just used for target practice.
For now, he’d focus on putting the new skill he’d just acquired to the test. He palmed two throwing knives off his sling and held them at the ready, the tips of the knives edging out past his fingertips and the flats of the blades secured under his thumbs.
“Here we go again. Hopefully we’ll see a new room for the first time in twenty-four hours. Three, two, one.”
Damien crouched and entered the room, sneaking to the very center of it to stand out in front of the chest. That would give him the maximum amount of time and distance to dodge the incoming projectiles. It also made the angle each projectile would be fired from as predictable as possible, the same angle from all four corners.
Throwing knives were a welcome addition to Damien’s tactical options, but he had no direct reference point for the technicalities of their use. The nearest comparison he could think of were stealth rangers. They always became visible shortly after firing, so he could only assume the same would be true for him. His ability to remain in stealth was directly proportionate to the ability of enemies to detect him.
If the Cave Urchins could locate him with a single carelessly uttered word, it was difficult to imagine he could throw knives at them without being fired on. The worst part about these enemies was the limited delay between each shot. Once he was detected, he’d have no time to reenter stealth before they fired again. Unless what Legolias had imparted to him became applicable.
Using the throwing knives did not take a huge amount of stamina either, but that would be on top of his dodging. Once he engaged, it wouldn’t be over until either he or the Cave Urchins were dead. At least he had time to get the first throw right. He knew where his targets were despite their stealth.
Still crouching, Damien drew back his arm and snapped it forward, his fingertips pointing into the corner. He let go exactly as his arm was fully extended, the knife skimming the palm of his hand and shooting toward his invisible target in a straight line. There was a wet thud and an unexpected shriek as the knife sank in and the Cave Urchin it had sunk into appeared. 28% health remaining, from what Damien’s HUD indicated was a sneak critical attack.
Damien could understand it being a sneak attack: he’d left stealth only a fraction of a second before it connected. It was the attack’s designation as a critical hit that surprised him. The Cave Urchin was a spiky blob with no obviously defined hit zones, and Damien hadn’t been targeting any specific part of it. He’d literally thrown it in the thing’s general direction. That implied the entire body behind the spines was a big critical area.
Next came the important part.
‘Plin-’
Damien dropped and rolled forward, his right hand moving to his sling while still in motion. The spines passed harmlessly overhead as the core of his body dropped to the floor. He transferred the momentum from the roll as he rose back up, through his extended arm and into the second knife. Very nice. No amount of practice on an empty bag could’ve taught him that. The Cave Urchin screeched and disconnected from the wall, its hit points at zero. Damien ran to the next target.
‘Pli-’
He rolled again. All the projectiles passed harmlessly overhead. This would never work more than once against players predicting movement, but it was superb against these mobs. This allowed Damien to focus entirely on his newly acquired knife-throwing technique. Which is how he hit the second urchin with two knives simultaneously, with both arms outstretched toward his target and his left hand mirroring the movement of his right.
He was hardly losing stamina. He’d hit with all five knives so far, which he quickly made six as he finished the urchin off. This was easy! With only two urchins left the rolling technique was even more effective. As he rolled across the room, remaining crouched in between, he reentered Shadow Walker. Even easier!
Damien finished off the last two with no trouble. All enemies defeated. Zero damage sustained. This room had been reduced to a plaything. The iron slats covering the back of the room lifted, their removal highlighted with a plinky, optimistic tune reinforcing his success. The tune was nice, but the level-up notification he received with it simultaneously was nicer.
He was level 45! He was sure his celebration would result in some complaints about camera angles, since it involved a fair amount of spinning on the spot, but he was also sure he didn’t care.
“Done. They’re all dead, I’m alive, the next room is open and I didn’t take a single hit. And I get full EXP just for completing part of the quest chain! That’s more like it!”
He pumped his hands a few more times before he got that under control as well. There were things he was supposed to be doing, such as checking how many knives could be salvaged from the bodies of his enemies and how many souls he’d obtained. He’d have minions again! Things were looking up.
“Bear with me while I loot and prepare myself for the next room. Shout out to Legolias for the rolling strat. Thank you!”
He walked upright to each corner in turn, checking where the bodies had fallen. Upon their deaths the black spines had disintegrated, leaving only spherical white husks behind. They’d seemed much larger when they were covered in spines. He commended himself for how accurate he’d been with his knives without knowing how small his targets were. The soul energy they’d left pooled toward him as he placed his hands on their creepy skeletal remains to loot.
The materials they had to offer to mark Dam
ien’s achievement were urchin meat (mmmMMMmmm) and the throwing knives he’d embedded in them. They offered exactly 2.5 souls each, bringing his Soul Reserve up to its full 10 souls. Save for the one knife that had shattered on the wall, all the knives he’d thrown were also recovered. That brought him back to 15 out of 20 durability on his sling. He’d lost more knives during testing than he had in actual combat. This is why you test. He put his unattributed 5 stat points into agility and considered his windfall.
He could summon minions again. It didn’t seem wise when he didn’t know what lay ahead. He’d scout out the next room first, then determine what was required in order to deal with it...no, there was a better option available. He pointed at the floor and summoned a wraith. It had better stealth than him and was more expendable. Sorry, wraith. He escorted it to the newly opened pathway as he spoke to his audience, which was holding steady now he was back in action.
“I’m sending the wraith in to look around. After we’re done investigating, I’ll have it come out of stealth to check if there are any hidden enemies. Then I’ll head in myself.”
He sat down with his back to the wall, possessed the wraith and floated inside. There were two chests in this room! One in the near corner on the left, one in the far corner on the right. The rest of the room lay completely bare, identical to the one Damien was currently sitting in. The way forward was not blocked this time. It appeared he could walk straight through from one side to the other without any issues. Suspicious, given how the first room had appeared equally benign at first glance. There were almost certainly more Cave Urchins in here. At least Damien had his wraith to scout it out for him. The wraith’s movement was extremely fast, he’d be able to dodge after opening the chest without too much difficulty.
He tipped himself forward and accelerated toward the nearest of the two chests. He’d made it only a few feet when he found himself impaled on the spines of a Cave Urchin. This one was on the floor. Just by floating into it the wraith had sustained serious damage. Even a single point of damage was enough to remove stealth. Damien had no time to react, but he knew what was coming next. What he hadn’t been prepared for was the scale of it.