PA-01. Den Of Thieves, page 13
part #1 of Pantheon Online Series
Kohli nodded his thanks. “Reckon I’m glad we found time to help you out, after all.”
Lastly, the Crypt Keeper fixed her gaze on Gunnar. “For the Rogue who played that rock star like a fiddle, you may not have gained the experience of your comrades, but if not for you, I might still be imprisoned by his spell. To you, I offer Cloaked Dagger. If ever you need to sneak a blade out in the open, this spell will have your back. Use it well.”
Cloaked Dagger
Spell Type: Rare, Illusory
Alignment: Dark
Restrictions: One-time use (30 second maximum duration)
Requirements: Sufficient Mana
Cost: 2 Mana per second
Description: Render your weapon invisible for a short period of time.
“Thank you,” Gunnar said, after analyzing the spell. He expected it would come in very handy in a den of thieves like Thailen. And the fact that it was a dark magic spell especially excited him.
The Crypt Keeper made her way across the room and unlocked the wooden door to the outside world. As soon as the key turned, the door swung open, letting glorious sunlight cascade into the chamber.
The woman straightened herself and bowed her head to them. “I have much work to do. This was once an honored place for the dead, and it has been a fun house for far too long. May your gods keep you, and may you stay clear of the wiles of Luka the Trickster. Farewell.”
PART 3
ROGUE IN TRAINING
21
DARK SOUL OF THE NIGHT
Back at the Mermaid, Sykes let out a barrel-chested guffaw as they recounted their story over pints of ale and a plate of roasted pork and potatoes. Sykes especially appreciated the moment when Em set the rock star sorcerer on fire.
“God, I would have paid to see that!”
Gunnar smiled and downed his plate of food. By the time they reached the inn, his Stamina had flatlined around 60%, and the food offered some much needed rejuvenation.
[Buffs Added - A Decent Meal — You have decreased your Stamina usage rate by 15% over the next four hours. Build up your Constitution for an even greater effect.]
As Kohli continued their tale about the crypt, Gunnar leaned back and took long sips from his ale and ordered a second helping of pork. While Gunnar had been less than impressed with many aspects of the realism offered in the game so far, the delicious seasoning of the Mermaid’s food was incredible.
Things might have got off to a rocky start, but he was feeling significantly better about his prospects. And it wasn’t just because of the achievements.
Kohli might have focused a bit excessively on his own distraction efforts as he recounted their victory, but neither Gunnar or Em cared.
The chimera sat beside him, and Gunnar found himself very much enjoying her company.
Sykes downed his ale and pounded the empty on the table. “You two’ve turned out all right,” he said, turning to Gunnar and Kohli. They smiled. Then, the large man glanced at Em. “And you, I hope to see more of you around here. I’ve got a couple good guilds I think might be interested in offering you a trial, assuming you keep up the good work. If you three train well, you just might find a home in this gods-forsaken city.”
Sykes gathered up the empties and handed them to one of the serving girls rushing around. “That first round was on me. But you’ll have to pay for more. Which reminds me, Gunnar, did you scrounge up enough coins today?”
Gunnar nodded and grinned. A trading window appeared, and Gunnar sent over fifty coins.
[Congratulations! You’ve proven yourself capable to a mentor of thieves. You’ve earned the Promising Young Buck badge. Sykes is intrigued by your potential. This will lead to greater possibilities on the path of a Rogue: +1 to Dexterity, +1 to Charisma.]
[Congratulations! You have completed the quest Mermaid’s Debt. You robbed the poor to pay back the big man. Here’s 40 XP!]
Sykes grinned and stowed the coins in his Inventory. “Kid, you got a place to stay? If you got more where that came from, I can hook you up while you prepare for your trial.”
“That’d be great actually.”
Gunnar paid thirty coins to cover a week’s worth of lodging, and Sykes gave him a key to a nearby tenement.
“Stick around,” the barkeep said. “The night’s show is about to begin.”
He winked and then ambled off, still chuckling to himself about the rock star and his ceremony.
Loud murmurings filled the room as one of the serving girls announced that the mermaid show would begin in two minutes.
Em rose from her seat. “Think I’ll pass.”
Gunnar nodded quickly and stood to join her. “Better be quick. Those serving girls will charge you if you so much as blink in that direction, once the show starts.”
“Got a lot of experience with that, do you?” Em teased.
Gunnar stammered. “Er, well—”
Em grinned mischievously.
Kohli glanced over at them, then at the currently empty mermaid tank, then rose to join them. “Well, I got no problems with a good show, but I reckon I should go too. I’ve got a date with a Maldan maiden I don’t want to miss. I’ll walk you both out.”
The three of them made it out of the tavern not a moment too soon.
As Em opened the door, the crowd began to cheer, and Jiselle the serving girl came hurrying to guard the door, giving Gunnar a sharp look.
They laughed as they reached the street. Darkness had fallen on Thailen, and the city was alive with nightlife. Humans and elves, dwarves and orcs strode through the narrow lanes, several pouring through the Mermaid’s door.
Em turned to Gunnar and Kohli. “You boys are all right,” she said. “I expect I’ll see you around, though hopefully under better circumstances.”
Gunnar grinned. “Sykes has some good facilities. Kohli and I will be training around tomorrow, if you want to join us.”
Em didn’t smile immediately, and Gunnar wasn’t sure why. Her thin lips twitched, as though she were considering saying something and thinking better of it, then she forced a thankful smile. “Appreciate the offer. I like to make my own way, but maybe I will sometime. I know where to find you.”
She looked up at the sign of the Mermaid, then turned and ventured out into the night.
Kohli shook his head. “Be careful, mate.”
“What do you mean?” Gunnar asked.
“I think you know exactly what I mean. She seems cool, but we know nothing about her. She en’t connected with Sykes, which means she’s connected with someone else. Other guilds. Other masters.”
“God, can we trust no one in this place? I don’t know you either.”
“And do you trust me?” Kohli asked.
Gunnar paused a minute, then scowled. When they’d first met, Scan had told him that their relationship was Just Doing a Damn Job. When he checked it after they left the crypt, it had changed to Ally for Mutual Benefit.
Was this the most reliable metric for determining who he could trust?
Gunnar wasn’t so sure. He wanted to trust his gut, but he also knew his gut had a bit of a naive dumbass tendency.
“You’re a scoundrel,” Gunnar said. “But we can help each other. Just like in the crypt.”
Kohli nodded. “Good. And the girl?”
“She needed our help to get out of that crypt, but up here, I don’t know.”
“You’re getting smarter.” Kohli winked. “Or less stupid.”
“Thanks.”
Kohli shook his hand. “Just remember things aren’t always what they appear.”
“What do you mean?”
“We got in that mess because of the Red Cloaks. And she just happened to be down there.”
“She was ahead of us. You said she was there when you got captured.”
Kohli shrugged. “Does that mean she was ahead of us?”
“What? Do you think she’s with the Red Cloaks or something?”
“I don’t know… Just be careful.”
Gunnar chuckled. “I just think that precious ego of yours is hurt because she was more into me than you.”
Kohli grinned slyly. “Never said I’m not a petty man. But the logic of it is what gets me. My Charisma is way better than yours.”
“You were a grouchy asshole down in that crypt. I doubt that won you any points.”
At that, Kohli laughed. “Speaking of Charisma, I’m off to meet that Maldan maid.”
“Good luck with that. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
The thief strode off and out of sight.
Gunnar watched him for a minute, still wondering who he could trust. Then, he made his way down the block to a small tenement at the end.
All the buildings on that street were pressed up right against one another, and Gunnar had a feeling Sykes owned the whole block, maybe more.
Sykes had given him a key to a room on the third floor, and Gunnar found it easily enough. It reminded him a bit of his old dorm room. The only furniture was a framed wooden bed, a nightstand with an oil lamp on it, a small chest that he assumed was for clothes, and a small chair and little round table in the corner.
There was a shared privy and washroom down the hall, which he was not keen on using, based on the smell as he walked past.
Minus the roommate, exactly like the dorms.
Then again, he hadn’t actually had to piss since he’d arrived in Thailen. He could see why the developers would remove that particular detail. Come to think of it, that was the first obvious thing in the game that reminded him this was not a real place. He’d been so engrossed in the events of the day, he hadn’t thought about the real world at all in hours.
Not that he wanted to remember.
His real world was shit for the foreseeable future, maybe forever. For all intents and purposes, this game was his life now. This realization hit him like a wave, and he suddenly hated that he was alone.
He stripped out of his cloak and pants and lay in bed, trying not to think about the depressing nature of his situation.
He’d had an incredible day. Despite the setbacks, he’d leveled up and found allies, and with a little luck, he might get connected with a guild soon.
But what does it matter? None of this is real.
“The hell are you moping around for?”
If Gunnar could piss, he was pretty sure he would have pissed himself. He leapt from his bed, grabbing for the dagger at his bedside.
But it was only Azmar.
The disgusting creature hovered outside his window, which was not really a window at all, just a barred opening with a curtain flapping in the breeze. It faced a narrow abandoned alley.
Gunnar set the dagger down and glared at the creature. “What do you want?” he demanded.
Azmar latched onto the windowsill. “Just here to remind you that jumping off a bridge won’t do you any good here. You’ll come back.”
“Thanks for the advice. If you don’t mind, I’d like to be alone.”
“Well, the brooding type do well around here, I suppose. Just thought you might like to know that you’ve caught the eye of Nymoria.”
“What do you mean?”
Azmar grinned and leaned up close to the bars of the window. “I mean you did good today. She likes you.”
“She’s just a damn program, and so are you.”
“Considering your Wisdom is still abysmally low, I don’t think we’ll be trusting your insight.”
“Whoopdeedoo, my goddess likes me! I’m still just a damn prisoner doing time.”
“You’re a Maldan dusk elf and a servant of Nymoria, and she is pleased with your work today. If you keep this up, you might actually make something of yourself in this game. What the hell is wrong with you?”
Gunnar shrugged. “Nothing.”
“Well, snap out of nothing then. I said your goddess is pleased with you. She has hundreds of wards, and she sent me to you, by name, to tell you she is pleased with your performance today. That is the entire purpose of your existence, and it could lead to much better things for you—and me! I don’t care what triggered this little dark soul of the night—”
“That’s not what it’s called.”
“I don’t care what your kind calls it. If you keep this up, I’ll move on, and so will Nymoria. And you’ll be cow feces like the rest of the good-for-nothings we always end up with.”
It wasn’t the first time that Azmar had said something like this, and it piqued his interest. Gunnar assumed that Nymoria was connected to the Suits and Ties back in the prison, maybe Azmar too, though he was not entirely sure how. But clearly, there was some inherent inequality going on here. And it affected more than just noobs like Gunnar.
A revelation came to him.
If I’m important to Nymoria, that must mean I’m important to someone IRL.
He turned to Azmar. “Sorry, it’s just been a long day. How can I serve Nymoria?”
22
PING
“For starters,” Azmar began, still looming in the alley outside his window, “we need to talk about your plans for advancement.”
“I’m training with Kohli tomorrow in one of Sykes’ facilities,” Gunnar said.
“Good. Sykes was impressed too, then. That’s good.”
“You said that already.”
“That’s because it’s important,” Azmar quipped. “Sykes is your best shot at getting into a guild, and that’s where your real opportunities lie. If you keep showing yourself capable, Sykes will be good to you.”
“And if I screw up?”
“Sykes is an opportunist. He’ll get bored quick if he doesn’t think you’re worth his time and effort. Suffice it to say, for all future references, and for all time, don’t screw up. Ever.”
“Right,” Gunnar said.
“But also, you need to take risks.”
“Helpful advice. Don’t screw up, but be risky. Sure.”
Azmar’s yellow eyes glowered in the darkness of the alley. “You need to prove yourself, just like you did today. You were resourceful, you played to the strengths of yourself and your allies, and you didn’t screw up.”
“Barely. There were about a million ways things could have gone wrong.”
“There always will be.”
Gunnar sighed. But he had to admit, though things had taken some strange and dark turns, he had truly had a blast down in that crypt. His accomplishments in life had not made a terribly long list, but he was the reason they had escaped. He’d rescued Em and Kohli, and he had led that necromancer to the perfect spot so Em could crush him. He felt a rush of pride.
“So Nymoria could see all that? Everything in the crypt?”
Azmar nodded his ugly head. “You may not see her, but your goddess is paying attention. For now.”
The thought did not really bring Gunnar much comfort.
“Speaking of Nymoria,” Gunnar said. “Does that same script have to play every time I level up?”
Azmar nodded. “Nymoria hates that recording too. It’s really nothing like her at all, but she didn’t have any choice in the matter. Go ahead and change it.”
“Change it?”
“Check your HUD. You can customize all kinds of things. And you can always revert back to the default settings if you change your mind.”
Gunnar pulled up his display and began scanning through tabs he’d not yet had time to peruse.
“Select that little gear wheel in the corner,” Azmar said.
Gunnar held his finger over the holographic image, and a whole list of settings appeared. He unchecked the box for the Deity Interaction during Level Ups. He debated whether to continue with the play-by-play notifications during combat, but ultimately decided he liked knowing the exact amounts of damage he was dealing. It would help him strategize weapon choice and the locations of his attacks in the future.
If he wanted, he found he could make a lot more things appear continuously in his vision. But he didn’t really need to see his status bars unless they were depleting, and most of the other options were superfluous things like a Money Bag icon or a Hunger meter. He preferred the simplicity of the default setup.
There was, however, an option that intrigued him: Character Scan - Threat Level. If he turned it on, he could differentiate between hostile characters, and it would also appear on his map. Unfortunately, it was a locked feature.
His finger hovered over the check box on the holographic window.
[Threat Level Scan requires at least Level 10 Perception.]
Damn, that would be nice. He still had some stat points to use after reaching Level 6 at the end of the crypt quest. Maybe he would have to apply them there.
Azmar cleared his throat, and Gunnar looked up.
“Sorry, any other advice?” Gunnar asked.
“Why would I bother? You don’t listen to my advice, anyway.”
“What are you talking about? I’m a damn elf because of you.”
“Have you set a respawn point?” Azmar glared at him through the window bars.
Gunnar paused. “Er, no… I was going to, but I needed to set it somewhere I had been before. So, I waited. And then, I forgot.”
“And then, you forgot…” Azmar let his demonic gaze linger on him.
“Quit it, you’re creeping me out.”
“You—still—haven’t—set—it!” Azmar ground the words out, as though he were chewing on them and spitting them at Gunnar.
“Alright.”
Gunnar pulled up his game map.
He pointed to the location of his own tenement building. “Here seems like a good enough place.”
“Does it?” Azmar said, more like an insult than a question.
“No, then?”
“Let’s say, hypothetically, somewhere in this world of fiends, you make—I don’t know—an enemy. Let’s imagine that said enemy finds out where you sleep. They break in. They shank you good and hard. And you come back. Over and over again.”
