Total Immersion: Dark World: A LitRPG Adventure Page 5

  I know nothing.

  I am grateful to be shielded from the rain, though, and wonder why Anella didn’t have one of her own. She’d been getting soaked, but maybe here, in Dark World, a Siren enjoys being in the rain. Maybe it feels good. It’s an idea, that’s all, but it settles my panic some to think, to figure.

  I look at the map again. I’m going to have to hustle to make it to Kleeple, where outside I can farm the easy mobs and buy some real gear with what I earn.

  I look at my Mystic moves.

  Ability List for Mystic:

  Spontaneity—Gives target random buff. Wears off in two minutes. Cumulative.

  Special Ability: Seizure—Invokes summon’s strongest attack. Cast once an hour. Some items or gear may enhance this ability. Summon’s Seizure attack will appear in menu or answer to command once Seizure is activated.

  Great. These are useless. But once an hour, not once a week? Incredible.

  May as well try the one move I have and see how good it is. Can’t use Seizure without a summon.

  Sid casts Spontaneity on himself. Sid gains +4 DEF.

  A purple swirl comes out of my chest and twists around me. I feel stronger. I physically feel stronger. How the hell—?

  My defense went up 4? I check my stats. Yep, there it is, with a timer counting down from two minutes. Because I can’t cast the same spell twice in a row, or make the same move, I hit a tree with my Shaman Stick, and a bolt of lightning shoots out, marking the tree. I cast Spontaneity again, and this time it gives me +2 STR. I feel stronger, still, and an odd sensation of confidence. It’s amazing.

  Not too shabby. Throw in some decent gear, and I might have a chance with these Counts of Hell.

  I have to think positively.

  I have no choice.

  I enter a weak trail into the forest, leaving the graveyard. I glance back one last time at mine and The Seeker’s tombstones, where the rain almost seems to fall the hardest. Just then, a streak of red lightning jolts from the sky and hits right in between them. The sound is so loud I jump.

  Creepy shit.

  I turn and go onto the trail. It’s going to be a long walk.

  I keep my eyes open for undead, wishing I could see behind me. A few Skeletons chase me here and there, but I’m able to outrun them. Not even going to attempt fighting. I’m still too scared of what it will feel like to be hit. My glowing Shaman Stick helps light the way some, and I’m grateful for that. The trail takes me to a split in the dark forest, where two paths branch out. One leads north, and the other south. That’s the one I pick, hoping it will lead me to the Pass of The Black, the pass made by an ancient Black Nuudle who wanted to map Sunset Forest. Or the Forest of the Undead now, I guess. The pass is marked on my map. I wonder how long that pass has been here if I really am in Elora’s distant past.

  My robes are starting to dry out, but my feet ache. The forest on foot goes on forever, and outrunning mobs leaves me breathless and achy. How long will this trail go on? The forest is known for magical mishaps, supposedly caused by haunted dead souls. What if I’m walking in circles?

  I keep an eye on my drying map. It looks like I’m heading for the pass, and it might take another twenty minutes to get there. On I go.

  One of the things that makes Elora Online so different and special is that there are mysteries in the game nobody could ever explain. No one could find answers on the Web, like how to unlock classes like Mystic and The Hidden, Anella’s class. It’s a healing class, solo class. Most important stat is supposedly CRG. I’ve never even met one. Also, there are hidden quests, and as I’ve learned, hidden parts of the game entirely.

  Again, the questions rage through my head as I catch my breath from running from a Wakened Tree. Where am I? When am I? What happened to me? Where is my headband? Why can’t I access my RL body? Do I have eyes and are they in control of my interface? It feels like it, but it kind of doesn’t.

  What was that feeling of cold hardness on my forehead, the loud bang, the pain, the Game Over I saw?

  Am I dead? I can think, feel, breathe. I can’t be dead. Has my consciousness somehow been put into the game? There has to be a solid reason for all this, but I don’t know what it is. I have to go with the flow, stay cool, watch, check out this Dark World. The questions bounce around my brain, but there’s one thing I do know.

  I have no clue.

  Finally, I reach the Pass of The Black and ease down the black-fenced pass warily. But nothing happens. Thank God.

  I emerge into grassy, lush jungle as daylight starts filtering in from the east through hazy clouds. There’s no rain here. I check the counter on the protective shield Anella had cast on me. It has two hours left.

  The fields are full of low-to mid-stat Nuudle Territory mobs, like Mad Mushrooms and Daisy Chains, both of which would knock me out in one move. I sneak around them and have to outrun a few who detect me. I keep my map handy and finally hit a road leading to the Temple of Nuudlel, where the Nuudles study their magic and craft one-cast spells. Awesome library, if you’re into that kind of thing. I’ve enjoyed it at times. I might have to consider that.

  The roads are almost always safe. I’m grateful to be on one.

  It takes about fifteen minutes of walking to get to the temple. I’m astounded by how different it looks than in Elora. In Elora, it’s a shining, black, towering temple, jagged and elegant, with Ananta on top carved out of black rock. The Nuudles mined the obsidian from the cliffs to the east, where they block the Endless Sea. It’s fantastic from afar. Here, it’s in the same place, but it has golden gilding all over, and etched golden runes of magic on the shining walls and towers. Nuudles use runes and words for their magic.

  I’m heading to it, but suddenly, as I see a player with one name run out of the entrance I face and invoke a Speedy Turtle mount, I get scared. I don’t think I should go in that temple. Not yet. I think it’s best to circle around the temple and hit the road to Kleeple. All roads in Nuudle Territory end at the temple, so I just have to dodge mobs to get a couple roads over, which I do.

  First thing I’m buying after I get some cash is a pair of comfortable shoes. Don’t care what stats they have. My feet are killing me.

  I cross the long, sandy road toward Kleeple and can see it on the horizon finally when I’m atop the Grassy Knoll. Smoke billows up from the potion furnaces, just like in Elora. But even Kleeple from afar seems different than in Elora. Newer, more bustling, more exotic. The jungle flora seems bigger, brighter. I see a lot of one-named characters on mounts, flying or riding in and out of Kleeple’s main entrance, which is a wide, sandy path with enormous black wrought iron gates that are always open. They are also gilded with gold, like the temple, but they aren’t in the Elora I know.

  A few of the players wave to me. A couple laugh at me as I enter the Nuudle capital. What must I look like? I don’t even have a house of my own to look in a mirror. Covered in a damp, muddy cotton robe, no head gear, no shoes or gloves. Never had to clean myself in game before. Not even a Comfort Ring on my grimy finger. Greenish smog surrounding me doing God knows what that was cast on me by a Hidden. I must look like a little kid whose parents never take care of him. Nuudle, why?

  The paths are more overgrown here in Kleeple than in Elora’s Kleeple. I avoid eye-contact with others and head for the Kleeple magistrate’s mansion. I want to see the NPC magistrate, hear what he says.

  I pause right there in the path of sand, with a wide, purple flower hanging over my little head.

  Maybe I should find out who the magistrate is. If I’m remembering Nuudle history right, in the time of Bane, an NPC named Jarana was magistrate. She joined the Mylop in overcoming Bane, talked the White Elves into helping.

  Oh yeah. And the Sirens stayed out of the whole thing.

  I should approach a player and simply ask who the magistrate is.

  I admit I hate this. I don’t want to be a newbie again. I don’t want any other players to see how I suck here in Dark World. Plus, there’
s that fear of being attacked, the pain that might or might not come with it.

  Nearby, there used to be Plapy’s Playhouse, which was a stat-boosting watering hole. Surely someone in there will help me.

  I go around the corner of the high-hedged path, but Plapy’s Playhouse is a white stucco round building with a sign I can’t read. It’s in Nuudle. Runes.

  I sigh, grip my Shaman Stick, and pull open the door.

  Inside, bright morning light spills into a white-walled round room with an oak wood bar on the far wall. The mahogany tables scattered around are full of players, all with one name. They turn and look at me, and then go back about their business.

  I look around, assessing who best to approach. Mostly, the place is full of Nuudles. It’s pretty small in here for another race to be hanging around.

  I spy a Mylop in dark heavy armor fighting gear, in a corner sipping a DEF brew, Nuudle Nerves Nicety. Sure, he’s a Mylop, but he has black, forward-bending horns and black spikes around his eyes.

  Fighting classes always put me at ease, and curiosity overwhelms me as I take in his appearance. Mylop don’t have horns or spikes. They are smooth, big lizard men. This guy is dark green, and his gear is amazing. Shining black tank armor like a White Knight might wear at high levels, but smoke-like tendrils ease off the surfaces. His headgear is a chain-metal cowl made of the same metal as his body gear. His HP bar is dense with segments. See, the HP bars are chopped into little segments to show party members’ stat strength. The more little blue segments you have in your HP bar, the higher stat you are all around. This Mylop’s stats all around are very high.

  Before I think about it, I examine him. Days is his name. I have to see what he’s wearing and if there are any clues as to why he looks so different.

  Dark Knight. He’s a Dark Knight? Days is a Dark Knight, the tank class nobody can get?

  Oh, crap. Now he’s looking at me, knowing I examined him. He would have been notified in his game interface.

  I freeze, not knowing what to do.

  He waves. Smiles.

  My shoulders relax and the air runs out of me. I weakly wave back.

  “Come on, then!” he calls out to me.

  The Nuudle with him takes one look at me and snickers. She’s tan with a lightning bolt symbol on her forehead, and wears her blue hair in pigtails. Name’s Simple. The Black. Not too much lower a level than Days, judging by her gear on the outside. Especially her rings. Only goldsmiths wear stuff like that. High level, craft specific.

  I make my way across the tiled floor to the far corner where Days the Mylop and his comrade, Simple the Nuudle, sit on the same side of the bench with their backs to the door. But of course, in my case, they’d turned and not taken their eyes off me since I examined Days.

  “Come on around to the other side and sit down,” Days says, his voice curious. I feel more relaxed still and collapse onto the smooth, mahogany bench. Instinctively, I rub my aching, grimy feet with even filthier hands.

  “Would you look at you!” says Simple. An actual girl player by her voice. “Mystic. How’d you get that gig?”

  “How do you—oh. The marking.”

  “That’s not just a random Mystic marking,” Days explains. “That’s Ananta’s marking. Never seen a Mystic with Ananta’s marking. You?” He turns to Simple.

  She sips from her MND stat boost goblet slowly. “No. And that’s common knowledge. Hey, who gave you the smudging?”

  “The what?”

  They look at each other and shrug, then look back at me. Days says, “The smudge, the protection. That’s an expensive scroll. The green foggy shit.”

  “Oh. Oh!” I tell them about Anella, but leave out her name and class. Say she did something, but I couldn’t remember what. I keep things very simple. I’m dying to ask questions, get every answer available to me, but these are high-stat players. The “smudging,” as they called it, is wearing off, and if it had offered me protection against getting my ass physically harmed in the most painful ways, then I don’t want to say any more than is necessary just in case I’m reading these two wrong. They might give me a nice eyepatch reason if they feel like it.

  Here, it’s like anything goes, everything is real, and you are completely alone without even a notebook to collect your thoughts in.

  No time for that, anyway.

  Days nods throughout my explanation of the disappearing Anella, and then asks, “So you are new to Dark World as of about four hours ago?”

  I look down at the polished dark wood table and mutter, “Yeah.”

  “A Mystic with the only Ananta symbol I’ve ever heard of,” Days says sarcastically.

  “Sorry, it was rude of me to examine you. I’ve never seen a Mylop who looks like you, or a Dark Knight.” I slide off the bench and stand.

  “Wait!” Days grabs my upper arm and I meet his eyes. We’re eye-level, with his sitting and my standing. “Don’t get your G-String up your twat. It’s weird. That’s all. Come on, sit back down. I’ll buy you a beer.” He smiles at me, but whenever a Mylop smiles, it just looks scary, especially on him.

  “Yeah,” says Simple. “I’m sorry. We got off on the wrong foot. It’s been a long time since I’ve met someone fresh out of the cemetery.” She smiles too, and hers makes me more at ease. Her purple eyes glow slightly and then she points back to my bench with them. “Go on. Have a seat. And a beer. Maybe I’ll throw this garbage Mind drink out and have a beer, too. Not as good as a Siren Ale, but Nuudles have second best.” She hops up and goes to the counter, where several Nuudle barmaid NPCs wait.

  Days turns to me. “I know you have no idea what’s going on, but I’m going to get you moving fast. If you don’t, that’s your fault. A Mystic with Ananta’s glowing mark on his Nuudle forehead? You’re a target. Hey, what were you before?” He leans in toward me.

  “Dragonbane. Dragonbane Maniac. You?” It seems like the right thing to ask.

  “White Elf Blessed. Guy char. Wanted to hit on all the girls playing White Elf healers. Learned later that was the Dragonbane guys’ job.” He laughs and now his grin isn’t so scary. I can’t help but smile back.

  “There’s nothing like beer in Dark World. Nothing like it. Once Simple gets back, I want to hear your story. If you’ll tell it? And don’t leave a thing out. Beer’s on me the whole time.” Days waves his clawed, dark hands. “Look, I have a good feeling about you. It was a Mystic who first helped me when I found myself in a Mylop graveyard. Deep in the caverns, too. No light there. But suddenly, I could see in the dark when she summoned Varengan. Her name is Shell, a Siren. She’s in our guild now, too.” He grins again. “Enough about me. Here’s Simple with our beer.”

  Simple places three foamy pints in front of us, the hourglass-shaped mugs frosted over and with glitter sparkling off slightly smooth white.

  Days says, “Go ahead, there’s nothing like it that you’ve ever known.”

  CHAPTER 7: BATTLE OF THE COUNTS OF HELL

  I can taste it, and it’s heaven on earth. Real beer, high quality! I can taste as well as feel here, and I can smell the alcohol in the brew.

  Instinctively, I invite them to a party and we chat within the party group, unheard from others, with a quick eye movement from me through my party menu interface making it so—or did I use my eyes? Enough of that for now. They smirk at each other as though my obviously badly hidden paranoia of what it will feel like when I actually get hit with a crossbow/spike/tiger claws/lightning bolt is so typical when I mention it. Like I will have anything to say that they haven’t heard before. Thought themselves. Maybe I won’t. Still, this makes me feel better, and they comply, and there it is. I don’t ask about if I’ll feel actual pain. I don’t want to know. Not yet.

  I tell them everything about my experiences with The Seeker. Right up to where I saw his tomb next to mine. I leave out everyone else. I do tell about the shrine. It’s the only good point of the story. Even when I speak of Silvia giving me the blessing, I tell them it was a Blessed Wh
ite Elf guildmate with the Gilded White Elf Ring.

  I don’t hide how everything went down with The Seeker. By now, you have to realize that’s not me. Of course, who doesn’t like being appreciated? The thing is, I want to have that from merit. If I know it isn’t, then it’s shit.

  The shrine is different because I saw how many people were relieved that I had done it. They all knew how. They didn’t care. I saw my efforts’ merits in what I had done, not in a well-fought, skilled and successful battle, which is what a shrine should be built for, but merits in how players repeatedly told me thank you, bemoaned their stories, and I listened carefully to every one. I got pissed all over again each time for them. It was a good deed.

  Some part of me still feels like I’m hunting The Seeker, and knowing about that tombstone, well, I feel pretty sure that means The Seeker, now Seeker for sure, is in Dark World too, and the game is making our fates intertwine for… what?

  I don’t know.

  My God, Days and Simple aren’t kidding about the Nuudle beer. Light as champagne and bitter enough to dry the sweat off you midday in the jungle. I’ve never been physically affected by any stat boosts I’ve taken in game, but I feel this, and yes, it’s like beer, but colors stand out. My body feels good, no pain in my feet. Days and Simple’s faces move and swirl as I drag on with my story of eleven months of hunting The Seeker. I’ve gone back to that part of the story for some reason, and I’m not sure why.

  Days and Simple want to show me the cliff off Kleeple over Paradise Sea for the upcoming sunset. Sunset?

  Days carries me on his back. My feet are grateful. He tells me I’m a gross mess and laughs. I can’t walk if I want to from the odd beer.

  None of this is a big deal. Right?

  I can’t wait to see the sunset.

  Kleeple Cliff is a flower garden in Dark World, but all the flowers, like fat orchids, glow their unique colors ever so slightly. It is truly a paradise sea. Nuudles have it good. When I think of my beginnings in Dragonbane Territory, all the black volcanic glass, dragon bones, and black sand. True, I loved it, but this, right now… it’s perfect.