Tales of the Gemsmith

by Jared Mandani

  Dean’s gaze turned back to the Rogue, and then the Ranger. If he were just playing this for a few hours and getting on with his life, then he would probably have chosen one of those two. Who didn’t want to be like Aragorn, or Dr’zzt?

  But no. Dean knew that he was going to be in here for a long time, possibly a few hours every day, and he wanted to use that time to help his hands to heal as well – which meant smithing.

  “Hang on… Didn’t the Mage character class say something about alchemists? That’s a bit like being a jewel-smith, isn’t it?”

  Alchemist. Another text block slid out across his vision. It seemed that, in his noobie state, any first encounter with a new game concept would provoke the game architecture to update him on the facts.

  *

  Alchemist: A type of magician who works almost exclusively with physical matter. An alchemist may choose to specialize in potions to become an Herbalist or Witch, or they may specialize in rock to be able to create golems and enchant magical items, or many other different combinations.

  Specialisms: Specialisms are bonuses and upgrades to your current skills, which increase through XP. You can ‘spend’ your XP on specialisms to become good at certain skills, as well as receive free specialisms once you level-up, or have been awarded them from guilds, teachers, or magical items.

  A specialism increases not only your success at achieving your chosen task, but it also can give you more powers. So, for example, a Warrior with a Specialism in Fencing is much more likely to perform a highly damaging Pinpoint Strike maneuver.

  There is almost an infinite variety of specialisms and special powers available, as new ones are added to the game every day, and you also have the option to create them for yourself, with XP.

  *

  “Okay…” Dean flicked through the text boxes, his luminous body nodding to itself. “I can be an alchemist, specialize in metal or crystal, and make the best damn jewelry that this world has ever seen?”

  Nothing answered him, as the A.I. in this game clearly wasn’t that advanced. But he knew what he wanted to be now, at least.

  “I choose Mage!” he said out loud, as he reached to touch the robe.

  Wise choice, Pilgrim…

  The other three suits of clothing faded, and a light flared on in the darkened area of the room, revealing an archway where he was certain there hadn’t been one before.

  “I guess I have to go through that, now… Dean thought, hearing the rustle of clothes. Looking down, he realized that he was wearing the robes now, as well as a light-colored tunic, a leather belt, canvas trousers, and boots. He could feel something in his hands, and, as he focused on it, he could see the images flash between a curled, fantastical wizard’s staff, a small walking cane, and a simple, iron-shod quarterstaff as tall as he was.

  “The quarterstaff. Definitely the quarterstaff,” Dean said, and the wooden length solidified in his grip, its metal foot ringing out against the stone floor below as he moved to the next level.

  In here, he found a much smaller, more intimate gallery room, where one side of the corridor held tattered banners, each one bearing a different insignia and design.

  Choose your homeland, Pilgrim…

  The banners were long and only a foot or two wide, but Dean could clearly see the scuffs and burrs where they must have flown for many years over more welcoming walls. A few had more ugly tears along their length, and at least one had scorch marks at the end as it waved gently in the dimly-lit cavern. There were six banners, all in all, orange, green, blue, red, purple, black, and white. As Dean examined each one, he was greeted with information about what they represented.

  *

  The Human Kingdom of Aldaron.

  Colors: Orange and Gold.

  Realms: Near Kingdom.

  History: The Humans of Aldaron are the largest population of humans, and the most fractious. With so many noble houses constantly at war, the old High King Huran barely keeps control of them all. They originally arrived on these shores some five hundred years ago from the Forgotten West, a realm that is said to have fallen to catastrophe and darkness. But they are a hardy bunch, constantly fighting off the incursions of both the secessionists and the darkling beasts from the Outer and Far Realms.

  Specialisms: 1 Weapon Skill at +1, Sailing +1, STR +1

  *

  The Human Secessionists of House Gwylar.

  Colors: Green.

  Realms: Near Kingdom.

  History: A renegade human House, the sons of Gwylar took to the wilds of the Near Kingdom when the House Wars broke out and have since been attacking the rule of the High King in lightning-fast raids. They are known for their savagery in battle, and absolute pride in what they do.

  Specialisms: 1-handed Weapon +2, CON +1

  *

  The Judgment of the Elves.

  Colors: Red.

  Realms: Outer Kingdom.

  History: The Judgment are a strange faction, coming from the strange wilds of the Outer Kingdom. Most are fanatics to the Tree Mother, who has decreed that both the darkling beasts and the humans are to blame for the state the world is in. They are a tall, thin-limbed race who are naturally gifted with magic, and distrustful of humans.

  Specialisms: Woods +2 (all activities), Bow +1, DEX +2, MANA +1

  *

  The Dwarvish Duma.

  Colors: Purple.

  Realms: Outer Kingdom.

  History: The Duma of the Dwarves has been around for a long, long time – since before either the elves or the humans first arrived on Aldaron’s shores. They were the first to fight the rising darkling horde, but did so from their vast underground complexes. They are a short but stocky race, used to raising both hammers against enemies and picks against rock. They are also some of the most gifted stonemasons and engineers in the world.

  Specialisms: Underground +1 (all activities), Hammer +1, CON +2 STR +1

  *

  The Disgraced Human House of Thorn.

  Colors: Black.

  Realms: Far Kingdom.

  History: House Thorn were once known as House Briar, seeking the deep woods and wilds for their homes when they first arrived on black-hulled boats, but their curiosity led them ever deeper and further than is wise, and soon they passed out of both Near and Outer Kingdoms and into the Far Kingdom – a place that is filled with monstrous beings and strange magics. They are not known to talk much to their ‘comfortable’ near human cousins, and many accuse them of being more than half-darkling themselves!

  Specialisms: Sense Dark +1, 1-Handed Weapon +1, Sneak +1, CON +1

  *

  The Scalar.

  Colors: White.

  Realms: Far Kingdom.

  History: The Scalar are a strange race with skin of soft and supple albino scales. They claim to have been living in the world even before the dwarves, but no one has managed to prove that. Others claim that the Scalar instead come from beyond the Rift in the Far Kingdom – the same cosmic home as the darkling beasts! They are a vicious and fierce faction, prone to attacking both allies and darklings alike.

  Specialisms: Sense Good +1, Resistance to fire +2, CON +1, DEX +1, -3 CHA

  *

  “Woah, okay…” Dean gulped, looking at each of the options. “Should I be a Dwarf? It says they’re good with stone…” But I don’t want to work with stone, I want to work with gems, he reminded himself. He was turned off by the thought of the Scalar, and House Thorn as it happened. “I don’t want to get involved in the politics, I just want to get my real body better!”

  That left the Elves, the Aldarons, and House Gwylar. This was proving tricky already!

  “If I chose an Elf, then Marcy would just think I’m copying her…” Dean felt a flash of embarrassment, especially at the memory of how Marcy’s character looked in the game. He wondered if his avatar here could blush…

  “Well, House Gwylar look pretty cool – but won’t I end up just getting into
a lot of fights with the Aldarons?” No, he knew what he would choose. Some might say that he was playing it safe – but Dean had a plan. “I choose the Humans of Aldaron!” he said, knowing that the rule of supply and demand probably worked just as well here in this virtual world as out in the real one. As part of the largest faction, he would have lots of opportunities to get materials, tools, and to sell all the things he made!

  Wise choice, Pilgrim… the mysterious voice said from all around him once again.

  I’m not here for the politics, not here for the politics… he kept saying to himself as he felt his body change, morph, and his skin take on texture. He looked at himself, seeing that his hands at least looked a little bit similar to what they always had done. A torch flared at the end of the corridor, and Dean presumed that he now had to go in that direction, his steps tapping a steady rhythm on the cold stone floor. The corridor narrowed and became dark except for the glint of light from behind and further in front.

  Dean swallowed nervously, wondering just where he would be going next. He was sure that he could feel the corridor sloping up and – yes – a breath of fresh air meeting his own skin. He laughed, hearing his own voice echo strangely back at him. This is just so real! It was a lot different to the smell of disinfectant and the bleeps of medical machines.

  As he walked, new options were presented to him, sliding out of the edges of his vision like the other text boxes had done, only these ones held dials and palettes as he was allowed to pretty much customize every feature of his avatar and clothing.

  Skin Color… A sliding palette featuring every real-world group, plus some new ones with greenish-blue hues.

  Clothing Styles… Although he had to stay within the confines of robes, tunics, breeches, and sandals, he could customize their cut and their design, their colors and even their wear. He decided for deep green robes with a frayed gold trim, a cream tunic, and tan breeches.

  “Best not be too flashy at first, I don’t want to get robbed on my first day out of the gate!” Dean laughed, as the light at the end of the tunnel glowed brighter, and brighter, and then was blinding…

  Chapter 7: The Kobold & the Captain

  Dean stepped out of the light to the howl of the wind over a grassy hillside. It was cold, and he tugged his robes closer around himself. The sky was gray and overcast, promising rain.

  “Where am I?” He looked around himself to see that behind him was a hill crowned with standing pillars, and he had appeared to walk out of a narrow, dark passageway into the center of the hill. It had the look of an abandoned Neolithic site, and he could see the faint whorls and whirls of strange markings carved against the stone.

  Screech! There was a sudden scrape and a thud, as a large slab of stone slid into place over the tunnel barring his escape.

  “Holy crap – but how do I escape out of here?” Dean murmured.

  Quit Game? Y/N.

  The game text slid across the bottom of his vision and flared warningly.

  “Oh no, I didn’t mean…” Dean started to say, as the text once again slid back out of vision. This was going to take some getting used to, but where to first?

  Looking down the grassy hill, he saw that ahead there was a dirt path, one direction leading behind towards a line of dark trees, and the other meandering downward.

  “Hey, what’s this?” There was a way-marker stone flat on the ground, with an arrow pointing in either direction.

  “Oakwater,” Dean murmured, following the arrow up to the trees, and King’s City in the other direction. “Well, Marcy said meet her at King’s Market – so I guess that’s in King’s City as well, right?”

  He started trudging, wishing that the game environment had picked a brighter, more summery morning rather than this gray overcast late afternoon.

  As he walked, the scenery around him seemed to flow and move at a slightly faster-than-normal rate, and he realized it must be a part of the game, fast-forwarding him to the nearest playable place. The strange hill started to recede behind him, replaced with the road starting to rise, and rise again.

  I’m even feeling a little out of breath here! Dean wondered at the sensation as he finally crested the rise to see –

  A castle. No, a citadel.

  The citadel of the High King of Aldaron was built into the top of a cliff that rose over a busy but small bay, sprinkled with stone piers and boats on dark, thrashing waters. The King’s City stretched on both sides to encircle the entire bay, as well as the wide river, spanned with high arching bridges. Dean could see tall buildings like cathedrals dotted here and there, as well as rises and hills with prominent parks, buildings, shrines, and temples. An inner wall and an outer wall, and even from this distance, Dean could hear the distant hubbub of the city life.

  “That is incredible…” he said, never having seen such effects outside of a movie screen.

  “Incredible my ass!” said a voice from behind him. It didn’t sound like a very friendly voice. In fact, it didn’t even sound like a human voice as Dean spun around to see that a figure was jumping out of the nearest stand of trees. His path had meandered over the hills and past a line of scraggly, black-barked trees, thick with shadows.

  A perfect place to hide, it seems, Dean thought, clutching his staff tighter across his thin frame.

  “Excuse me?” Dean called out to the creature.

  “’Ex-cuse meee?’” the thing rabbited back at him, before snickering. It was small, barely up to Dean’s waist, but it had a greenish skin, pointed ears, and was wearing leather patchwork armor. When it laughed, it displayed rows and rows of dirty sharp teeth.

  “What do you want?” Dean took a hesitant step back along the trail. I don’t even know how to fight. I can’t fight… he thought, his heart pounding as he suddenly remembered the feel of fists against his flesh, and of hard hammers raining down on his limbs…

  “What do I want? Whatever you got, human!” the crooked little green-skinned man said, and jumped forward.

  “Argh!” Dean panicked, his heart hammering.

  *

  Level One Battle Spells…

  Shield

  Bless

  Light

  Bolt

  *

  The words played across Dean’s vision as he scrambled down the path, heading for the nearest city gates – but they still seemed far away indeed, and he couldn’t run fast enough as something suddenly bowled him over, head over heels, onto the wet grass beside the path.

  “Ugh!” He skidded, certain that he had felt something strike him. Just like before. Just like before, he started to hyperventilate.

  Minor Wound! -1 Health!

  “Just give us whatever you’ve got, humie, and this doesn’t have to get any nastier than it already is…” The green head appeared over his vision, grinning as it licked its cracked lips with a very large and fleshy pink tongue.

  “Bolt! Bolt!” Dean screamed, certain that the thing was going to break his knees or his hand once again. Suddenly from his hands there grew a swirling ball of blue-white light, which he thrust up into the thing’s face.

  “Argh!” the green-skinned thief screamed, clawing and clutching at its eyes as it jumped back. “Why, you little…”

  “Bolt!” Dean pushed himself into a crouch as he held one of the balls of swirling electric-blue light once more in his palm and threw it at the creature. He did so not out of malice or bravery, but sheer panic.

  “Agh!” The blue light engulfed the thing’s head, dissipating just as soon as it had touched it, but making it stumble back and turn to run. “I was only asking!” the thing shouted as it scampered back into the woods.

  Kobold Defeated! +15 XP!

  “Holy crap. Holy crap…” The mage slumped back to his knees on the wet grass, gasping. Dean could feel his heart pounding as he swallowed, unable to accept that he had in fact won this fight. I could have died, his panic told him, as thoughts of angry, swearing men in balaclavas sw
am and converged in his mind.

  “Ho, friend! Are you well?” shouted a new voice, and Dean flinched, looking up to see that, so deep in his panic and alarm had he been, that he hadn’t even noticed the clop of a horse as the man approached. Dean curled his hand protectively behind his back, once again reaching for his Bolt spell.

  “Easy there, I mean you no harm!” the man said, sliding from his horse and raising both hands calmingly in front of him. He was older than Dean by ten or so years, with pepper-gray short hair and an elaborate moustache on his square jaw. But he is bigger than me. If he chooses to draw that sword at his side… Dean saw that the man was indeed bigger, and probably stronger. He had a heavy-looking longsword strung at his hip, as well as a dagger beside it and a small hatchet on his other hip. He wore a leather-studded tunic, shoulder guards and leg greaves, and a sash of orange and gold.

  “My name is Captain Calan of the City Watch – you’re lucky that I was on gate duty when I saw you get into a spot of bother with that Kobold there, and so I rode out to see if I could help.” The older man was gruff, but he seemed sincere as he stooped to the ground to pick something up. “Huh, the Kobold must have dropped this – I think it’s yours, now, friend.” He threw the object towards Dean.

  Found! A coin purse with 20 Silver Bits, 1 Set of Dice, and 1 Dagger.

  “Oh, thank you – I suppose… Although I don’t think I really deserve it.” Dean found himself accepting the Captain’s gauntleted hand as he was hauled to his feet and dusted himself off. “I’m, uh, Dean.”

  “Welcome to Aldaron, Dean.” The Captain clapped him on the shoulders, nodding back towards the city. “Want me to show you around? I know a few good inns where the beds are clean and the beer isn’t too watered down!”

  “Okay, yeah, thanks, that would be a great help,” Dean said, as he walked beside the Captain, who was leading his fine stallion. Dean wondered for a moment whether there was another player just like him out there somewhere playing the Captain Calan of the City Watch – or whether he was an NPC, like in the computer games. He had an impression that he was probably the latter, but then realized that it didn’t matter. It felt better to have him there, after being attacked.