God Mode: A LitRPG Adventure (Mythrune Online Book 1)

by Derek Alan Siddoway

  Leesha had a point. So, in addition to marking the Livermoor Trading Post on our maps, Lucas also recommended a series of shops and crafters where we could sell off our excess inventory and looking into improving and upgrading our current weapons and armor. When the merchant leader finished, he pressed a silver coin into Leesha’s hand.

  “Show them that and tell them you’re there at my personal recommendation,” Lucas said. “It will get you a decent discount, and you won’t have to worry about the quality of anything you purchase. Feel free to stable your mounts in our company barn as well.”

  We thanked Lucas and managed to direct our mounts out of the crowd down a less busy side street. The first thing I did when I had the space was dismount Frank and stretch my legs. The poor ostrasaur was a nervous wreck in the crowds, and my anxiety wasn’t much better after constantly checking him in to make sure he didn’t charge off through traffic.

  “Lead the way,” I said to Leesha.

  Sticking to the back streets, we made our way through the bustling trade town. We arrived a half hour later at the first business Lucas had suggested. It was a large log structure encompassing the whole corner of the street. A painted sign reading “General Store” swung on chains from a pole leaning out over the wooden sidewalk. We entered the building and were immediately greeted by a Leprechaun woman with long greasy hair braided down her left side.

  “Greetings, customers!” the proprietor said in a tone that would have made a used-car salesman jealous. “Can I interest you in a Battle Axe of the Mortals, my dear Urok? I promise I’ll give you a good —”

  “Relax there, Ms. Lucky Charms,” Leesha said. She held up the coin Lucas had given us. “We’re here to sell. Lucas told me you’ll give us the best deals in town.”

  The Leprechaun’s face paled when she saw the coin, and she forced a smile behind clenched teeth. “Lucas Sevenday sent you?”

  We nodded.

  Either the shopkeeper was disappointed she wouldn’t be able to take advantage of some newcomers, or she had a less-than-favorable arrangement with the Sevenday Trading Company. For the first time, I considered that Lucas, like any other merchant king, might not always play precisely according to the rules. But that sure didn’t stop me from using his cachet to get the best prices in town for our odds and ends.

  Both Leesha and I had almost completely full inventories from our string of adventures and, when all was said and done, I was flush with cash. All the excess items netted me over 3,500 RuneCoins, bringing my total to just over 4,500. I had a slight pang of regret as we left the shop and headed to the armorer — all that money wasn’t going to be in my coin bag for long.

  The owner of the smithy, a forge-blackened Valkyrie man with a shaved head and a braided blond beard, also honored the Lucas Sevenday discount. I felt a little better with this exchange since the smith seemed to be good friends with the merchant. The man was a journeyman smith — not quite as good as I’d been hoping for, but I had to remind myself we were still on the frontier.

  In the end, I had a healthy list of upgrades to my gear:

  - Helmet of the Lucky, improved from Fair to Good quality, which increased its Defensive Rating to 6.5%, a 1.5% gain.

  - Rusted Steel Pauldrons, cleaned up to Steel Pauldrons and improved from Fair to Good, increasing their Defensive Rating to 3.5% from .5%.

  - Rusted Iron Cuirass, cleaned up to a standard Iron Cuirass and improved to Good quality, increasing its Defensive Ratings 1% to 18% overall.

  - Finally, my Urok Steel-shod Boots, from Fair to Good, and their Defensive Rating raised from 4% to 5%.

  All in all, the upgrades cost me 2,000 flat after the twenty-five percent “Friends of Lucas Sevenday” discount was applied. The upgrade also had the added bonus of making my gear almost look like it matched. No longer did I have different shades and qualities of iron scrapped together like I’d tried to make an Iron Man suit out of thrift-store cookware.

  We made one last stop to a Juarag weaponsmith for me to repair the slight damage to my Bearded Axe of the Tundra and for Leesha to improve her bow and daggers. I could tell she was more than a little disappointed that she couldn’t buy anything better, but until we found a larger town or completed some additional quests, there was nothing we could do.

  “Now what?” I asked Leesha as we waved goodbye to the cat-headed smith.

  “Now we set up our stakeout.”

  We left the trade district and headed west, into a part of town that seemed to be made up of saloons, inns, and the town’s administrative buildings. I also noticed this was the neighborhood where most of the trading companies had their fancy brick buildings. Of particular note was a large red brick structure with the name Livermoor Trading Post forged of wrought iron outside.

  Leesha led us to a particularly seedy-looking establishment across the street. This clapboard tavern bore a sign hanging out front that featured a picture of a hissing cat, one ear missing, tail crooked. The name below read The Mangy Farm Cat. They clearly went for a literal interpretation with that sign.

  We entered the building and I was immediately greeted by the smell of musk and alcohol. It was barely noon, but the place was already packed full of patrons who hunched over their tables, cradling pints. For all I knew, they’d been there all night and were working to stave off the imminent — or already present — hangover.

  A single bent-over Jotun barman swept the floor, avoiding the sleeping customers as he gathered up the dirty sawdust. Behind the bar leaned a grizzled — and bearded — female Urok, filling a tankard from a tapped barrel.

  “Sit wherever,” she yelled with the voice of an unfiltered chain smoker. Several of the more hungover patrons mumbled under their breaths and waved half-hearted hands at the bartender to keep it down. Leesha and I managed to find a spot by the corner window away from everyone else.

  “Now what?” I asked again. “If we weren’t in a video game, I’d be worried about getting hepatitis right about now.”

  “You keep an eye out for our friend Nugash.” She jerked her thumb toward the window at the Livermoor Trading Post and stood up.

  “Wait a second, where are you going?”

  “It doesn’t take two of us to keep watch,” Leesha said. “I’m going to ask around and see if I can find any news about our pal Dart.”

  “And how the hell am I supposed to know what this guy looks like?”

  Leesha gave me a withering look, making me realize I already knew the answer. I opened up my Quest Menu and was greeted with a picture of a particularly weaselly-looking Urok.

  “I assume your Combat Assessment can confirm his name,” she added. “Are you going to be okay?” Her tone softened. It was clear she was seeing the toll this entire thing was taking on me as our window to find a token grew smaller and smaller.

  “I’ll be fine,” I said, switching on my Combat Assessment. I blinked at the sudden flood of information provided, even in a noncombat setting.

  +1 Combat Assessment Skill Point

  With a nod, Leesha picked her way through the patrons and disappeared out the swinging half doors.

  The bartender came around with my beer — somehow watered down and barely drinkable even in a perfect video game world — and I sipped at it as I took in all the information on my HUD. I’d spent so much of MythRune with only one other player alongside me that I’d almost forgotten it was an MMORPG.

  Pretty much everyone in the Mangy Farm Cat had a ramshackle assortment of armor and weaponry, looking exactly like I had before my upgrades. Most were lower levels, around 3 or 4, but there were a couple who were as high as 21. These guys were likely carryovers from beta. As we’d previously learned, their help to clear dungeons, power level, or complete quests for new players was supposed to prevent token drops, but I couldn’t help but wonder if there was someone out there rigging the system.

  The diversity in the saloon was also a change. I’d spent so much time with the Uroks and then Jotuns that I’d forgotten what kind of t
ravelers a crossroads town like Crystal Fen collected.

  Sitting by the door at a small table was a patron with the catlike facial features of a Juarag. He was missing one eye, had several earrings in his battered cat ears, and his fur was mottled around his neck as though he’d survived a hanging. His likeness to the mascot of the establishment painted on the sign out front made me snort into my drink. A look like that was purely cosmetic — battles didn’t leave any scars unless you wanted them to. I guessed he could see just fine out of his ruined eye and was going for shock value.

  Closer to me was a Valkyrie female wearing silver armor and a winged helm. Although her look clearly said “piss off,” a couple of leery Leprechaun males had just sidled up to her table. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but after the first one got a little too fresh, the Valkyrie had had enough. In a flash, a knife appeared in her hand. A moment later, the Leprechaun’s offending hand was lying on the ground. Cursing the Valkyrie player, the uninjured Leprechaun NPC helped his handless friend limp away, whining over the cost it would take to regrow the limb at the local apothecary.

  Ah, the joys of a fully immersive, hyperrealistic video game. It made me wonder how the creators of MythRune hadn’t found themselves in a sexual harassment lawsuit yet.

  From one corner, the loud laughs of a group of Jotuns went off as they struck up a mini-game called Dice Bones. The game of chance differed depending on the set of dice you played with — I’d heard no two sets were the same. There were professional gamblers from the real world who’d claimed to have made thousands and thousands of dollars playing the game during beta, but I didn’t know if any of those boasts were verified.

  At the bar was a white-haired Eedari with a braided mustache, sporting buckskin leggings adorned with fringe. He wore nothing over his chest except a vest, and every visible part of his skin from the neck down was adorned with a myriad of dark blue tattoos. The sheer amount of them pegged him as a Skrael — a race popular with magic users because of their unique racial ability to draw power from their arcana rune markings.

  This was easily the most diverse place I’d ever set foot in since I’d started the game over for the official release. Given how many of the tavern’s visitors were actual players, I couldn’t help but wonder how many were still vying for a spot in the tournament. I dismissed anyone over level 20 as a prelaunch beta character. There were individuals who hovered around level 15 that had me a bit concerned, but it was always possible they were simply low-level betas or characters who had no interest in the tournament playing through the game with a beta.

  Shaking my head, I shifted my attention back over to the building. Now was no time to get ADD with all of the new faces surrounding me.

  For a trading post, there didn’t seem to be a whole lot of activity going on inside the Livermoor building. Every so often, I’d see an NPC local head inside, but most everyone simply walked right past it without giving it so much as a second glance. The whole thing felt shady, and I’d only been watching the building for a few minutes. Apart from the illegal raids on their competitors, I wondered what else the Livermoor Merchant Guild might be using the building as a front for.

  An hour passed, and while the bartender came by to refill my drink a couple of times, the other players hardly seemed to notice me. They were all too involved in their own business, I guessed. It was a nice change of pace compared to the other villages we’d been to, where everything seemed to focus solely around our missions. I wondered how many of these players had quests that could crisscross with ours? How often was the game setting players against each other?

  Before I freaked myself out too much, I decided to send a peace offering to Brandon. I hoped he’d cooled down enough that I could at least have a conversation with him about these maddening intertwining quests. I opened up my external messaging and sent off a quick text. Almost a half hour in-game passed by before I got a response from Unc.

  He let me know that Brandon was okay but still mad and taking a break from the computer. That was fine with me. I hoped if he took a break from the forums and the wikis, he’d be less tempted to do something dumb and come in the game. We rarely fought, and I hated the times when we didn’t get along, but at least I knew Brandon was safe.

  So caught up in my dealings with Brandon, I almost missed the flashing notification indicating an urgent message from Leesha.

  50

  Unwanted Company

  When I finally noticed the flashing icon in the bottom right corner of my vision, I almost jumped out of my seat. If I’m being honest, I spilled my nasty, watery beer all over the table.

  I glanced around to see how big an idiot I’d made of myself. The few who had noticed were already turning back to their own drinks, reminding me of what a big deal I wasn’t now that I’d left my little corner of Tournia.

  I settled back into my seat and opened Leesha’s message.

  Bingo. I’ve got me some killer intel on our guy. Apparently, he’s been selling items and orbs to lower-level players in town. When I get back, we can figure out our plan, but at least we know he’s here now! Stay where you are. I’ll be there in a bit.

  I felt the knot in my stomach tighten and my heart quicken. While we didn’t know what Dart was even doing here, I couldn’t imagine he’d pass up the opportunity to follow through on another quest. I was about to hit reply when I saw a timid-looking Leprechaun standing across the table from me through my translucent window. I closed the chat interface, paranoid even though I knew he couldn’t see my screen.

  “Hey,” I said in my gravelly Urok voice, lifting my nearly empty mug, hoping he didn’t notice the booze absorbed into the sawdust on the floor.

  “You, uh, you mind if I sit there?” The skinny Leprechaun nodded to an oversized pint in his hand. “There aren’t any other seats available.” If his big ears and nose, freckly face, and flaming hair weren’t enough, it was impossible not to notice the bald spot on the crown of his head. The look was further complemented by a thick pair of mutton chops that connected to his mustache.

  If that still wasn’t enough, he wore a set of oversized overalls whose bottoms dragged on the ground. It was as though they’d been made for his dad. A long cream-colored canvas duster covered the pinstriped overalls, marking this dude as either a steam train fanatic or some kind of inventor class. His gear alone made him stick out like a sore thumb.

  “I…sure,” I said, trying to play off my confusion, though probably failing.

  “Thanks,” the scientist Leprechaun nodded his head, but didn’t make eye contact as he slid into the seat across from me. “I’m Alex. And you are?”

  “Zane.”

  “Oh, right.” Alex gave a chipmunk chuckle as if there was something funny about two people introducing themselves to one another. I bit back a sigh, really wishing either Nugash or Leesha would show up and fast.

  “So, are you…a tinkerer?” I asked. If I had to stay put, I thought maybe I could learn a little bit more about the noncombat builds. This guy clearly had no plans to get into the thick of battle. I’d heard of many players in beta who delved into the Civic and Crafting Pursuits, but I hadn’t known any personally. With the tournament looming, I figured everyone who had started fresh was trying to get in, which was what made the awkward, balding Leprechaun even more puzzling.

  Alex caught my eye for the first time, and a smile lit up his face as if I’d just guessed his Halloween costume — which I supposed I kind of did. “Yes, that’s right. How amazing that it only took roughly fifty-seven interactions before someone else caught it. Most everyone else calls me a scientist, a wizard, or mechanic. I even get train conductor sometimes. Though, I guess they technically aren’t too far off. You know how it is with tinkerers. We’re the mix of two of the greatest things in any world. the magical and the scientific. The natural and supernatural. Knowledge mixed with arcane. We travel down an uncommon path but weep not for roads untraveled, for through our skillset, we learn the possibilities of all roads
and look on from above as the lines diverge and converge at different intervals…and I’m talking too much, aren’t I? I’ve been told I can do that. Start talking without acknowledging those around me.”

  “No, not at all,” I said, trying to make him feel better. I was genuinely interested in what kind of person talked as he did, with little filter between the brain and mouth, but we’d gone from zero to Einstein in a blink. “I’ve spent the last hour just sitting here and waxing philosophical about something similar. All the in-progress quests going on in this room alone are probably weaving in and out in crazy complex ways.”

  Alex leaned closer to me, eyes darting side to side as he continued speaking in a hushed tone. “And how many of them, do you wonder, are headed for the grand prize? The tournament token and the ten million from Danny Germaine himself?” Alex sat back in his seat, let out a deep depressed sigh, and took a drink from his wooden cup.

  “I take it you’ve been burned?”

  “It’s a jungle out there. I — sorry, what’s your name again?”

  A real socialite, this one. “Zane,” I reminded him.

  “Zane, I had acquired a token myself just recently, only to have it taken from me.”

  “Someone stole it?”

  Now he definitely had my attention. While this Alex fellow didn’t need to know we were planning on stealing a token for ourselves, I hoped I could learn more about how we might go about it from his experience.

  “I was on my way to Mythgard to enter the tournament,” Alex said. If he had any reservations about sharing his in-game life story to some random stranger in a bar, he didn’t show it. “I knew how much of a target would be on my back if I stayed around for too long. I’d heard there were ways to continue training within its walls, so I ventured forth. But the area around the city has become a war zone.”