Chapter Two
Thursday, November 28th, 2052, 14:39 OWO Server Time
Archer and I stepped through the OZ’s boundary side-by-side. I don’t know what I expected, but the transition from one side to the other felt like absolutely nothing. No resistance. No tingle. No temperature change. Nothing. I looked over my shoulder and saw a featureless gray wall behind me. Turning, I reached out and lightly ran my fingers along the barrier. After a second of inspection, it felt smooth, solid, and utterly unmoveable.
“It’s so PKers can’t see when or who’s coming through,” Macha said when she saw me examining the barrier. “It’s the last favor the devs will do for us on this side.”
New notifications awaited my attention.
Welcome, Adventurer, to the County of Niram! A UniFrontiers creation.
Recommended Level: 5-8
Trust UniFrontiers to build your world.
Good Luck on your adventures!
Achievement Earned: Noobie-no-more! - You’ve successfully reached level 5 and departed the Orientation Zone Rowling Valley! - +100% to your Reputation with the NPCs at the next settlement you visit.
Achievement Earned: Path Less Traveled - You have departed Rowling Valley via an uncommon path! - 600 EXP
I blew out another breath and tried without success to force my shoulders to relax. Leaving Rowling without Lemorak just felt wrong. After all, he’d been my friend and mentor for almost my entire time inside the game. If I was completely honest with myself, I was more than a little pissed off that I had to do this without him.
“Best we don’t hang here long,” Elias’s gentle nudge pulled my thoughts away from what felt like an impending rage spiral.
“Lead the way, Macha.” I reached up to double-check that my hood was fully covering my head. “Bolton and Elias right behind her…”
“I’ll go scout ahead.” Bryn dropped out of Stealth for barely a second before slipping ahead to scout our path as planned.
“Archer and I will rear guard.” I put an arrow to the string of my brand new Elven Hunter’s Longbow. Archer and I activated our stealth skills and paused to let the others get a few dozen yards ahead of us.
While I waited, I scanned the cliff sides of the pass for any signs of trouble. It didn’t seem like there was any place for ambushers to lay in wait, but that also left me feeling very exposed on the mountain path. Beside me, Archer whined, gently prodding me to get moving.
Swallowing hard, I got my ass in gear.
***
After departing the OZ, the path soon narrowed and got more rugged. To our right stood the cliff face that led up to the snow-packed peak of the mountain we were skirting; on our left, there was open-air and a near-vertical drop into a deep ravine.
Elias Stonetree: I got a reply from Lemorak! He’s still locked out, obviously, but appreciated us still giving him a cut of the gold.
We had found the littlest sound bounced off the stone walls and had decided to restrict our communication to the party chat. Yet, despite the tension of our march through the mountains, I felt a smile tug at the corners of my mouth.
Out of thin air, Bryn popped into view in the middle of our line. Beneath her hood, her red eyes were wide with terror. Her chest was heaving as though she was out of breath.
“Hide!” she hissed before diving to the ground and seeming to melt into the stone and shadows.
Bolton grabbed Elias and pulled him close while casting an Invisibility spell over them. Macha dropped prone and pressed into the mountainside, activating her own Stealth skill, blurring out of focus.
Drawing my ranger’s cloak closed, I dropped to a crouch in a shallow divot in the cliff face, and Archer crowded in beside me. The dire wolf and I both activated our respective Stealth abilities and went as still as possible.
A few racing heartbeats later, from between two neighboring peaks, came the most terrifying, basal roar I’d ever heard, in or out of the game. It was unmistakably the vocalization of a predator. A very, very big predator. A tremor ran through my entire body. My jaw clenched so hard it hurt. I felt the warring desires to flee or curl into a ball, the option to stand and fight never entered into the equation.
High overhead appeared a dragon! It had ruby-red scales that sparkled in the late afternoon sunlight, and it glided on massive bat-like wings that sprouted from its back.
Red Dragon, Level 93
Conditions: Flying, Fear Aura, Elemental Immunity (Fire) [more]
Holy Crap! Level 93? I thought to myself. From tooth to tail tip, the dragon's body was longer than two city buses end to end. At the end of its four clawed feet, the talons were easily as long as sword blades and looked as sharp. Clutched in one of the dragon’s rear feet, dangled the entire carcass of a cow. Still, high overhead, the monstrous head of the dragon swiveled towards us with the implicit threat of the turret of a tank pointing our way.
With a nearly palpable sensation, I felt the creature’s eyes lock onto me, and I felt positive that my attempt at hiding had done jack shit. My mouth went dry, and I trembled as instinctual, overwhelming terror crashed over me. Somehow I fought the urge to sprint away in a mad panic. Beside me, Archer let out a whimper and shifted closer to me. I only later noticed the notification that appeared at that moment.
Conviction Save Failed versus Dragon Fear! Terrified Condition Imposed!
Terrified - 25% penalty to attack accuracy. 25% penalty to concentration. +10% to Movement Speed while fleeing from the source of the condition.
I felt a gentle thrum of soothing power pulse from the Sword at my hip. Until that instant, I hadn’t even realized I’d clutched the blade’s hilt in a white-knuckled grip. Then, a tingling pulse rushed up to my hand from the Sword and into my body. Instantly, the tremors of fear faded, and my breathing shifted from rapid shuddering gasps to almost normal. While I still felt an entirely justifiable level of apprehension at being in the dragon’s sights, I no longer felt like wetting myself.
Whether we didn’t pose any interest to the dragon, or it was just more interested in enjoying its bovine snack, it didn’t really matter. The dragon’s head lazily swung away, and the dragon soared away through the mountain range.
I felt another pulse of power from the Sword, and a screen filled with text appeared in the air before me, obstructing my vision.
Locked within the hidden Vault of the First,
are my secrets, my legacy, my curse.
Much more than a powerful blade that you carry,
a key, but not for the foolish or unwary.
This artifact is only one of three.
Each must be used to delve beneath the Tree.
You must hold my Sword, my Cloak, and my Ring.
Each can offer the power of a king.
Only one that I would have judged worthy should face,
my Champion’s most deadly trials in this place.
With the talent to spark a life can you pass the Gate.
I urge you to ask why before you alter our fate.
Always ward against the desires of my Guardian.
Consider the parable of the frog and scorpion.
For nearly ten minutes after the dragon flew out of sight, no one moved, even after the terrified debuff had expired. Not every emotion was a result of game mechanics, after all. Though, thanks to the Sword - shit! - the MacGuffin my head was relatively clear. I found myself trying to process the poem's words and commit them to memory, just in case I closed the window and couldn’t get them back. When I finally dismissed the screen, a new notification appeared.
Quest Update!
Discover and Complete the Attunement Ritual for the First Player’s Sword in order to unlock its full potential in your hands.
Step 1 of? Complete: You have received a cryptic poem regarding the attunement ritual for the First Player’s Sword. Decipher its meaning and unlock the Sword’s full potential!
Reward: Shape the Blade!
CHOOSE
When I focused on the word CHOOSE, a drop-down menu appeared with a list of sword types. With a flick of my eyes, I scrolled down the list until I found the entry for Scimitar and selected it without hesitation. After fighting the elementals, when the Sword seemed graceful in my hand, the longsword style of the artifact had felt clumsy and unfamiliar. I could have practiced and adapted to it but choosing a form I felt more immediately comfortable with seemed optimal.
Looking down, I watched as the Sword’s grip, hilt, sheath, and blade within blurred. The effect only lasted for a few fleeting seconds before the artifact’s shape settled into the elegant curve of a slender scimitar.
“S-s-shit a dick,” Macha stuttered, shattering the silence and pulling me away from the process. She dropped her Stealth and shakily climbed to her feet.
Elias and Bolton reappeared from behind the sorcerer’s Invisibility spell as I stood and stepped out of my own meager hiding spot. Merciful for once, Bryn lowered her Stealth well away from anyone without any antics.
Achievement Earned: Witness the Mighty - Have a close encounter with a monster more than 50 levels higher than you and live to tell the tale!- 500 EXP
Elias sighed with relief, “That was close.”
“What the actual Hell?” Bolton seethed. “A full-sized dragon is way too overpowered! That thing shouldn’t be anywhere near this zone!.”
“Probably tied to some quest event,” Bryn said. “Might mean there are other players about.”
“Let’s not hang around then.” I tried to keep my voice from quaking. “Take a breath, then let’s motor.”
“Thanks for the warning Bryn,” Elias said genuinely as we all got back into motion.
“Yeah, good looking out.” The words sounded bitter in Macha’s mouth.
“No prob. I’m starting to be fond of a couple of you.” Bryn winked and slipped back under her concealment.
***
As we walked on, I split my attention between my ongoing duty as the rear guard and examining the text of the MacGuffin’s poem. After a bit of poking through menus on my HUD, I’d found the full text attached to my Quest Log. The poem was now displayed in a small window in the corner of my HUD, where I’d been glancing at it regularly. It didn’t look overly complicated, but that made me think I was probably missing something.
Between the poem and the riddle I’d had to solve in the tomb, Huxley had clearly been into some real Ernest Cline, Ready Player One, level easter egg puzzles. Despite managing the tomb more or less by myself, games with complex puzzles and riddles had never been my favorite. I usually needed to look up walkthroughs to get past them. A part of me knew that I’d probably have to ask my friends for help eventually, but I at least wanted to try and figure it out on my own first.
However, after Archer had to nudge me for the third time to keep me from wandering off the cliff edge, I forced myself to close the window and focus on the hike. There would be plenty of time to ponder the poem’s meanings later. So far, no one had noticed the blade’s transformation, and for the moment, I didn’t feel like discussing it.
“Wow,” Bolton breathed from just ahead of me, and I realized the entire party had come to a stop.
The trail bent off to our right, skirting the mountainside, but we had moved from between the towering mountain peaks. The terrain beyond the mountains stretched out below us, much of it thickly carpeted by trees ranging from massive verdant evergreens to a rippling ocean of fiery autumnal red, yellow, and orange. Not far off, a cloud of tiny fairies danced above the trees, their iridescent wings glinting in the late afternoon sunlight. Their beating wings sounded like little ringing bells as they drifted to us on the wind. Off to the south, I saw a waterfall arching out of the mountain, plummeting to a wide river below. At the river banks, I spotted a herd of centaurs spearfishing.
“Quite the sight,” Bryn said, her tone filled with uncharacteristic wonder.
“Everything was so crisp and open. I don’t think there are many sights left like this outside of OWO, fairies and other fantastical sights notwithstanding,” I said, my own voice hushed. Bryn’s fingers laced with mine and squeezed.
“You ain’t seen nothin' yet.” Macha was leaning her back against the cliff face and was casting off the air of someone thoroughly unimpressed.
Squinting into the distance, I saw a clearing where a herd of bear-sized badgers lay in the sun. As we watched, a dozen sparkling blue feathered birds plummeted from the sky, seemingly from nowhere. Screeching, they dove at a much larger badger in a tight formation ripping at them with silver glinting talons.
“Are those seahawks?” Bolton asked. “I’ve read about them.”
“Yeah, but most just call them suckhawks these days,” Macha replied. “They used to be pretty tough beasts, but they got nerfed a few updates back. They’re still pretty aggressive, stupidly so, but now they’re mostly just annoying.”
I heard the giant badgers roaring defiance at their attackers even from miles away. Several smaller badgers burrowed down into the soil as the full-grown adults formed a circle and ripped at the circling birds with their claws. Within moments, the seahawks were in total disarray as almost half of their number were torn from the air. Within moments the blue and silver avians were flapping away in retreat.
“Can we get moving?” Macha asked. “It’ll be sundown soon.”
***
Dusk came on with unexpected swiftness after the sun dipped below the mountain peaks behind us. The path had started to slope consistently downward. According to Macha, we only had a couple of hours of hiking left. At the sight of the nearing forest, my footsteps quickened until I was practically racing up behind Elias from my rearguard position.
“...a small village with an inn once we get off this damned mountain,” Macha was saying as I drew closer. “Unless we want to camp in the woods again. It’s only gonna get darker.”
“Hell no! I vote for the inn!” Bryn exclaimed. I wasn’t sure when she’d circled back from her latest scout ahead, but she was traipsing along in plain sight at the head of our march. “Feels like forever since I slept in a bed! Adventures in the wild are fun, but this girl enjoys the finer things.”
“We have the coin,” Elias said, his tone almost demure. “And I wouldn’t mind a bath and a glass of wine.”
“But aren’t we supposed to be avoiding notice?” Bolton asked skeptically.
“Faversham’s off the beaten path.” Macha’s face was scrunched in thought as she weighed the options. “Probably won’t be many players around, if any at all.”
“Unless that damn dragon really was part of some high-level quest,” Bolton said.
Everyone’s gaze turned expectantly towards me for a decision. However, I’d been so eager to reach the cover provided by the approaching treeline that I’d only been half paying attention.
“Earth to Zee,” Macha called, and I jolted back to the conversation.
Glancing around, my mind scrambled to reconstruct the last few seconds as the rest of the party watched me weigh the options. Everyone had some degree of night vision, so traveling by starlight wasn’t much different than walking at dusk for any of us. Despite the dragon's appearance, the county was rated level appropriate for us. We could probably handle any monsters that might come at us. Though that didn’t take into account any PKers that might be out looking for noobs like us.
“Let’s head for the village,” I announced. “We’ll scope it out. We can always pull back and make camp if it isn’t how Macha remembers it.”
The path began to dramatically slope through a series of snaking switchbacks down the mountain. Soon, we passed beneath the thin canopy of hardy but spindly trees that clung to the mountain's lower slopes. The fall colors that I’d caught a glimpse of before were smothered to black and white as my night vision took over in the dimming illumination. I felt a nearly instant release of tension in my shoulders under the cover of the branches and leaves as opposed to the exposed mountains and open sky overhead.
Despite the urban sprawl of Denver - where I’d lived most of my life - Gygax, which at first had felt as alien to me as the surface of Mars, was beginning to feel more and more like home. After one last steep switchback, the ground leveled out into a gentle roll. The land became more dirt and soil than dusty stone and the tree trunks thickened. Dry fall leaves rattled in the breeze coming down the mountain slope. The forest floor was littered with crunchy fallen foliage.
It always felt like summer in Rowling, I thought to myself with amusement. Sure, there’d been the occasional storm, and it could get cold at night, but in general, it had been pretty temperate and comfortable. Turns out, there were actual seasons outside of the OZ, and it appeared to be autumn. I hadn’t checked the date in the outside world in a while. In here, the date hadn’t seemed to matter, but now I wondered if we had to start getting ready to travel overland through winter and possibly snow.
I was worn out from the day’s march, and my Endurance bar was lower than I would have preferred. Since the Endurance stat was derived from our Strength scores, I wasn’t the only one feeling the burn. We’d had to gradually slow our pace so that Bolton, Elias, and Bryn - none of whom had high Strength scores to start with - didn’t begin to lose Hit Points from constant exertion. Archer and I had even begun scouting ahead, leaving Bryn creeping along as the rear guard.
Just as I was about to suggest that we give up on reaching the village and find a spot to make a camp, I caught the glimmer of multiple light sources through the trees ahead. Archer and I broke out of the tree line and came to a halt.
Ahead we spied a small collection of quaint wooden cottages with thatched roofs. They looked rustic, old, and vaguely European to my eye. Smoke trickled from the chimneys of each house, and flickering candles danced in almost every glass-paned window. The moon had risen. Its gentle silver illumination gave my half-elven eyes more than enough light to see by, even if the village buildings hadn’t been lit.
“Welcome to Faversham,” Macha declared after the rest of the party caught up.
“Quaint,” Bryn said.
“We can take the tour in the morning,” Bolton grumbled. “Let's find the inn you mentioned and get some food, drinks, and rest.”
“Preferably in that order,” Elias said.
Archer beside me let out a huff of agreement.
“Everyone, keep your hoods up until we’re inside the inn.” Macha took the lead, and I dropped back to watch our six.
