“Second step. Off the heat. Add in the sugar with the eggs. One by one. No lumps remember. Once ya’ve got it to a thick, creamy consistency like this, start addin’ in flour and baking soda with splashes of milk and vanilla. Do it slowly. No lumps; I hate em. Keep on giving it plenty of stirry love until it’s all combined and smooth. If it’s way thicker than this, then ya dun goofed.
“Third step. Slowly pour the batter into an oiled cake tin. Check for lumps. If it’s lumpy, stir some more. And by the way, I’m using cast iron, so if ya dun’ have the Cook profession, make sure ya know how to prep it. But if ya do have it, the Bake skill will prevent any annoying sticking. If only cast iron were so easy to use in real life. And dun’ tell anyone, but if this gets rusty, I’m just gonna toss it to my local Metalworker for some buffin’ up. Oh hi Luthias. I’m treating the iron real well, trust me. Hehehe.
“Fourth step—the fun part. Ya can do this anywhere, really, but if ya do it by a Cooking Bench, ya get thirty extra Luck points, which is super important for cooking high-quality dishes. Simply hold out your fingers, wiggle them about, and invoke Bake!” She did as she instructed, singing the single magic word. Euphoric magic rose from her belly and sailed down her arms out her fingernails in little rivers of wavy red mana. She mentally commanded the skill to bake on roughly 300F heat for sixty minutes worth.
In thirty seconds flat, the baking was done. The room was filled with delectable buttery-chocolate scents.
“Done!” she chirped merrily. “Oooooo, look how even it is. And look, it just slides right out onto the plate. No mess. No stickies.” She was far too tempted to take a bite, her tummy grumbling.
She held out four fingers plus another on the opposite hand. “Fifth step! These heating pads also doubles as a cooling pads. How, you ask? Magic is how. The heat is simply gobbled up into the void. Who would’ve of thought the laws of thermodynamics don’t apply here? Hehehe. Simply cool it down to, hmmmm, a bit above freezing, then grab your icings.
“Be careful. Take your time. It won’t spoil. I dun wanna see ugly Draesears with weirdly bent horns. Oh, no, he doesn’t like that. So make sure this is perfect. Use the yellows and oranges to outline a skull like a fiery silhouette. Make sure the eye sockets are menacing. Make sure the teeth and nice and pointy… like this. Make sure the horns look like they can impale a meanie through the neck… Good!”
She bobbed up and down three times for extra adorableness. “And there ya have it! Draesear Hellfire Mudcake. Let it warm back up to room temperature, and serve it up.” She picked up Mister Stabby and cut out a slice, then cut a bit size and brought the cake up to her mouth on the flat of the blade. Her forked tongue snatched it up. She chewed and swallowed, the fruity chocolate flavors incredible.
“Delicious! Row and my pretties are gonna love this!” she chirped. “And that’s that. Seeya on the next bite-size episode of Sortis Yummies! Mister Stabby, say goodbye. Still not in the mood? Awwww.”
Wide-eyed, Skylar held up an OK sign. “Wow.”
“Wow as in a good wow or a bad wow?” It better be good.
He blinked three times. “Wow, as in I think you’re going to be famous.”
Giddiness shook her fists. “Aww, thank you for helping, Skylar! I’ll get you a mate soon, and have a slice.”
He almost went for Mister Stabby but diverted to the blacksteel knife instead. Dummy. Mister Stabby wasn’t going to bite—only stab. Skylar took a bite. His pupils enlarged to the brim. “Whoah. This is really good.”
“Of course. It was baked with love.” She cut a slice, pushed it onto a plate, and skipped out the door. Row better have similar compliments. She said over her shoulder in maybe a too sharp of a tone, “Luthias, have one too.”
“Yes, Lady LeMort.”
Good Elf. Saving half a slice for Row, she took the rest to Draesear’s Idol for a few dozen delicious Faith points—two birdies knifed with one cake… or however that saying went.
On the way to the town hall, she skimmed through trending forum threads. One was most interesting.
Used a Soul Crystal on an Elephant, by Celine Gray, 4 hours and 20 minutes ago
You guys won’t believe this, but I used a Soul Crystal on a Mutated Elephant that attacked our camp. It seems to have grown an attachment to me as a result. No magical mental connection or anything. I still have to train it the old fashion way. <3 <3 <3
Cogs were turning in Gabrielle’s head. She did want a pet dragon, but if not a dragon, then a lion or tiger or anything else regal and pretty was good too. Where was that kitten? She hadn’t seen it in days. Had it ran off? Or had it been eaten by those meanie spiders?
* * *
Two cubes gleamed fluorescent gray tones at the opposite ends of Rowan’s Enchanter Table.
He sat hunched over etched runestones each in the shape of a flattened sphere, a standard shape about the size of a healthy egg yolk, perhaps larger. Twelve piles dimly glowed shades of lapis blue next to reagents waiting for enchantment in glass containers.
At the bottom of a small tube, two blades of corrupted grass reacted with the Table’s magic, giving off mostly soothing vibes mixed with much malice and some traces of grit, indicative of nature and earth and darkness, corresponding with the runes NAT and ETH and DRK. Simple enough. A decent reagent for plant enchantments, better for dark plant enchantments.
In a vial swirled some of Rowan’s blood, his wrist moving in slow circles. A whirlpool of highly malicious and euphoric vibes overshadowed a mellow-runny air… and fleeting traces of others that he could not fully grasp. No rune corresponded with anything Demon-related in his vocabulary, and none on the forums had anything to report regarding Demonic enchantments. Best to not mess with this one even if it was an excellent source of darkness.
However, the beaker of seawater was nothing less than a cauldron of feelings. It aligned with either nine or ten runes—not a good reagent at all unlike he had assumed.
Superimposed over a technicolor icon, an hour glass blinked and disappeared. Cooldown finished. About time. Fifteen seconds of damned torture.
Rowan spoke the single word incantation for Enchant: “Vira.” A projected intention selected runes for fire and mana. Three yolks lifted from their respective piles. And with a tendril of flames as the only reagent fed from his index finger, and a stream of grayish-white mana from his other palm, the trio stacked together.
Gradually, over thirty seconds, the stack fused together into a cylinder, shrinking slightly. Magic reverberated in the Table. A tiny chip of the left runestone cube evaporated at the edge of Rowan’s sight.
The enchantment stone thumped onto the wood. A jagged crack ran down the length, and those three carved runic symbols were not neat and aesthetic like the ones for the frost enchantment had been.
Unstable Enchanted Runestone (FRE, FRE, MNA)
Quality: 241 (Bad)
Unstable—another word for explosions. But as Rowan, and countless other players, had noticed, this made for the perfect hand grenade. They stacked in inventories too, fifty per slot, which was grossly overpowered… in his opinion.
Rowan dropped the grenade into the leather pouch at his hip. Hungry, it gobbled it up with fatty chomps of that wrinkled lip. Nice animation. A designer at Synaptic was surely smoking plant matter of the stronger variety. Or perhaps the AI controller had a sense of humor.
The next fifteen seconds lapsed while Rowan thoughtlessly crafted a few fire runes, incantations mumbled, and browsed a thread detailing room enchantments and. The first could be done at level fifteen with a vocabulary expansion. Lame.
He repeated the process for the fire grenade, nothing special, skimming through pages of discussion. Some guy obsessed with the profession was already level twenty-six, but his character level had suffered, still level two. How was he going to find high quality reagents?
The answer smacked Rowan’s skull: from other players in that guild Light’s Justice. Of course, with thousands of members world-wide, they could afford to
have players specializing to such an extent. Sour envy pulled down his lips.
But he crafted on and soaked up as much knowledge as Demonly possible. Another grenade was eaten. The remaining three percent of the experience bar filled. Ding. Level two Enchanter.
Woosh. An expected game window flew into view.
New Crafting Recipe: Solo Dungeon Keystone
Cost (in standard units): 0.01 runestone, 0.01 metal
Optional: 0.005 gem (up to 10X)
Tip: Rare gems will increase the effective Luck of all party members inside the pocket world, stacking with diminishing returns.
Good tip, but a few crucial points were missing. One, higher quality runestone and metals would increase the time limit. And two, rarer metals could lead to… interesting pocket worlds. A girl had reported her high-quality gold keystone whisked her away to a treasure room filled with mithril coins and jade carvings. Lucky her.
Fun stuff!
Grabbing unetched runestone, Rowan was a second away from invoking the recipe when someone knocked the door. “Come in,” he called, annoyance seeping into his tone.
Afternoon sunlight poured into the hovel. Freezing wind blew in—freezing wind laced with the aroma of chocolate, Gabrielle’s long hair a mane of wild gold. She sang, “Row-Row, I have a present… A slice of Draesear Hellfire Mudcake!”
His eyes latched onto a triangle of dark brown cake frosted with orange and yellow icing.
A Slice of Draesear Hellfire Mudcake
Type: Food
Quality: 682 (Excellent)
Nutrition Rating: 143 (Poor)
His stomach took control of his brain. “Give me.” His hands moved by themselves and seized the plate and spoon.
But the first mouthful was…
Wincing, he swallowed. Sickly sweet chocolate slithered down his throat. “How much sugar did you put into this? And I think I swallowed a lump of batter.”
Her cheerful expression flipped upside-down. “Just two and a half cups… maybe three… and a bit.”
“Three and a bit.” He scooped a smaller bite, swallowed. “And yet, it’s also pretty bitter.”
“It’s dark chocolate, dummy.” Her lips twisted into a knot. “Hmph. I like it. Skylar liked it. We put in so much work.”
A jolt of electricity arced up his back. His jealousy was unfounded, but he could not stop himself: “He helped you cook? Are you sure he’s not trying to—”
Her expression flipped again. “Hehehe. I’m sure. He was extra careful about that too.”
Good. Some fear was had!
Rowan let his body relax, going for a third scoop. The citrus icing was nicer, balanced out the dark chocolate but only worsened the sweetness overload. He swore his tongue was now partly made of sugar. Nevertheless, he downed a forth. The combination was strangely addicting. “We did offer to find him a girl, didn’t we?”
Gabrielle’s head tilted by a few degrees. “We did?” She blinked cutely. “Oh, we did. Maybe one of those fifty can be his special someone.”
Another adventurer-NPC pairing. This settlement was going to be a laughing stock. Something about that chaffed Rowan in the wrong way. “Whatever. He better not cause a scene if she takes an arrow to the brain. And we can save on Bedroom space if people start pairing up. Tasha and Ayla will have to sleep at an inn for now.”
“They know.” Gabrielle sneaked a bite with her mithril dagger. Something flashed across her eyes. “Oh, check our Plopbox.”
“What is it?”
“Just do it. Hehehe.”
“Fine.” He yanked open the web browser and mentally tapped the bookmark with a open cardboard box icon. He didn’t need to log in, and the latest file was…
Gabbys_Sortis_Yummies_Episode_One
The preview was her standing behind a bench filled with bowls of cooking ingredients. He didn’t need to open it to know what was happening. “A cooking show.” His tone was a mix of surprise and approval.
“Yuppers.” She gave two thumbs-ups. “I turned the cuteness up to an eleven. I have a giddy feeling about this!”
“Naturally.” He swallowed another scoop. The cake was getting better.
“Naturally,” she mimicked, stealing another chunk.
“You didn’t say or show anything that could give away—”
“How dumb do ya think I am. Of course, I didn’t.” Her crimson cat eyes rolled.
“Good. When are you posting?”
“Uploading right now. Almost done.”
He choked, “Right now?”
“Right now.” She grinned devilishly. “And… done. And… already one viewer. Two.”
Well, he saw no reason not to, thinking it over as he downed the rest of the cake. Delicious. “Alright. Tell me if you need anything for the show.” A sudden frown pinched his brow as a chillier gust stormed inside. He said through chattering teeth, “Wait, how did you get all those ingredients?”
“Tasha bought it the other day, silly.”
“Where?”
“Misty Highlands.”
Swishing chocolate saliva, he mulled it over. “Nah, it’s too loose of a connection. We’re safe.”
She looked at him sheepishly. “Row. Ya over-think way too much.”
“That’s not a bad thing.” He shrugged, then pointed by her leg. “Anyway, those boxes are full of fire grenades. If you see a spider or a Troll or a raider, light em up.”
“Row,” she giggled. “I’m not a pyromaniac like you.”
He passed the empty plate and grasped her shoulders. “I will set that whole damned forest on fire if I need to.”
Her mouth made an O shape. “Ah… ya know that doesn’t work, right? The forest’s magic will just put it out if it gets out of control. It was like the first thing players tried on day one. So dun’ go around starting fires on me now.”
He chuckled. “It’s just an expression.”
“Kay, if ya say so.”
“I do, and I do think you should keep at least a dozen of them on your character. Seriously. Please.”
She exhaled loudly. “Okay.” She knelt and shoveled more than dozen into her own hungry pouch. “Happy?”
“Happy. I made them specifically for my absence.”
Her face deadened. “Huh? Your absence? You’re already leaving? Why are ya leaving so soon?”
His chuckles shook his chest. “Just got level two Enchanter. You know what that means.”
Her face remained blank.
Okay, maybe she didn’t.
Instead of explaining, he snagged up pieces of runestone and low-quality blacksteel coated with slag. “Vira.” Mana surged from his heart, down his arms, and into his fingers. In a slow flash of white light, without giving off heat, the two pieces merged into a flat disk with the blacksteel bordering the runestone. The blacksteel was icy to the touch. A numerical one was engraved at the middle.
Solo Dungeon Keystone (Frosted Gemless Blacksteel)
Quality: 378
Time Limit: 350 minutes
Bonus Luck: 5
Frosted on the first try! Gab’s Luck build is paying off.
He weighed the palm-sized hexagon, which was lighter than the combined input materials, and flashed an excited grin that fell off his face when his eyes hitched onto Gabrielle. “Hey, you know I have to do this. Where else am I going to get Crystal Ice?”
She was not happy. “Row.”
He snatched Moonfyre before she could. The deer-leather scabbard was softer than he liked. Better than nothing. “Yeah?”
“If ya die, we will have to fetch ya from the Orc prison.”
“I know.” He stepped backward.
Another ridiculously chilly gust blew in. She managed to stand her ground in the doorway, her eyes narrowing. “Why dontcha wait for Saeya and Luthias to make some armor?”
“That’s going to take the rest of today and tomorrow morning.”
“No, it won’t.”
“We can’t wait. Faenin’s body won’t last, and I nee
d more levels and loot anyway. I want to test out my Swordsman skills in combat.” And seeing she was about to lunge for his right hand, he kissed her on the forehead and commanded the Keystone to activate.
Typeless magic invade his flesh and bone. The room faded to black.
“Row!”
“Love you too. You have control of the slaves,” he managed to say before her character dissolved away.
And this was just a low-level solo dungeon. Why the worry?
45
A glassy beveled square expanded from a point.
Solo Dungeon
Level range: 13-15
Difficulty Rating: 250
Mini-bosses: 2
Elite Bosses: 1
Secrets: 3
Rowan dismissed the prompt.
He was weightless for two more shuddering heartbeats before his sandals touched down onto hard ground. It was dark, his eyes gradually adjusting. Faint neon lines and back-lit text of the game interface was enough light. His first breath of chilled air trapped a distant rotting foulness in his lungs. Magic was thick in the air. Malicious despair gripped his stomach, but he shook it off, no problem.
This was a dark dungeon of ice. The frosted blacksteel worked.
Exhilaration pumped in his blood. This was exactly what he needed after a week of babysitting those Elves, and now there was an actual child to raise. Rowan could only take so much. Gabrielle would have to understand that he needed some violent alone time.
On cue, the chatbox beeped.
Gabby LeMort (To Rowan Black): I’m not gonna say that was dumb, Row. So I’m gonna say at least check 3D recording is on, kay?
He did as asked, opened the options menu and double checked a tick box near the top. And his Plopbox account was indeed linked.
Rowan LeMort: Done.
Gabby LeMort: Goodie! Love ya too ^_^
A mellow smile diffused from his cheeks as his eyes finished adjusting. He was standing at the top of a flight of stairs, the entrance caved in behind. The rock was blackish-gray, darker than slate but grayer than onyx, and matte. On the walls, runes that he did not recognize emitted single Lumens worth of cyan.
He picked up a fallen piece of the rock, examining with a researcher’s eye.
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