Total Immersion: Dark World: A LitRPG Adventure Page 6

  We watch, quietly sitting on glowing tropical growth.

  Once the sun dips until no shine is left, Days turns to me and says, “I’ll put you up in an inn. You’ll need to sleep Nuudle beer off and take a shower. Don’t worry—won’t feel a thing in the morning except a boost in Defense.”

  “Don’t I need DEF now?”

  “This way.” He heaves me up and Simple takes my left hand. She keeps me level as we walk away from the glorious sea and into the darkening city of magic. They take me to a little hotel with a bedroll on the floor in a small room, a shower stall without a curtain by the sheet separating my box from everything else, and I’m in that bedroll before I fully acknowledge its existence.

  Simple bends over my face and tweaks my nose. “Check your quest log in the morning, cutie.” She winks. I wink back but forget to open my eye. The other eye thinks that’s a fine idea.

  I wake up in the inn bedroll from a sleep like I haven’t had since I was a little boy who played hard the day before. I feel focused, alert, ready. Ready for whatever, because that’s all I am faced with in Dark World. It wasn’t as good as real sleep, and I remember some night sweats, but that was probably the weird Dark World beer.

  What was that about DEF boost? I check my stats. My DEF is 9. Nuudle beer is very good for low levels! I wonder if the effects get higher as your stats demand more.

  Quest log. Check the quest log. I remember Simple saying that to me through the Nuudle beer haze before I passed out.

  That stuff is something else. Makes me curious about the Siren Ale.

  There are now two quests in my log. One is pending, from someone named Shell, Mystic, guild Faithgamblers. That’s the one Days was in when I examined him. He said the Mystic who helped him was named Shell.

  I accept the quest.

  Nuudle The Black Master Gronai has lost his desire to make up new runes for advancing The Black students. Shell thinks you are the Mystic for the job of bringing Master Gronai’s spirits up. You can find Master Gronai in the Nuudle Temple west wing, top floor, south turret on the wall.

  This is a hidden quest but can be given to a Mystic by a Mystic who deems you worthy. Do not let Shell down.

  Rewards:

  +3.3 CON

  +1 ATT

  +2.1 DEF

  Gain Mystic Ability Contemplation.

  I can’t see from the quest description what the ability does, but those are high stat boosts for a quest, especially a beginner’s quest. Stat boosts can be as slow as .1 gained per event you do to boost that stat.

  I wish I knew more about Mystic. I mean, I spent some time reading, asked players, close friends—just out of my love of watching the intro where Ananta burns me alive, and then everybody. I looked and looked. Nobody had any answers. Now I’m opening a gifted, hidden quest from a Mystic to me, who myself is now a Mystic.

  I remember the sunset, and the feel of the hangover from the beer makes me focused again. So much energy. I never felt anything like physical energy in Elora.

  Can’t sit on my hands. Got to get to that temple… but first, I’m going to try out my Shaman Stick with the lightning boost enchantment on some Wild Onions outside the gate. Stats are in the 1-5 range, and they drop planting bulbs, which gardeners use and will buy a stack of at the AH for enough to get me a piece of low-level gear—shoes.

  I’m about to find out how bad it hurts when I get hit, because I got to get this shit learned and done, and done right.

  I exit Kleeple—lots of players watching me—and head into the fields in front of the jungle. All those Wild Onions hopping around with pissed-off looks on their pale faces, grassy, green hair flopping side to side.

  Here goes. At least I’ll get to experience how all the stats feel to me. Something to look forward to.

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

  I hit the ground with my Shaman Stick. A spark flies up at my face.

  Sid casts Spontaneity on himself. Sid gains +6 ATT.

  Are you kidding? My CON, MND, and INT stats won’t help me hack down Onions because I have no spells or summons. But look at these! Onions are at the highest +5 DEF.

  Oh, I gotta quit thinking about it and kill one before the timer runs out and I lose my nerve. +6 ATT! Add in the lightning…

  I give a battle cry to the sky as the first Onion I charge faces me. I slam it across the face with the Shaman Stick. Lightning shoots out of it and the Wild Onion’s hair fries into ash. The Onion sticks its yellow tongue out at me before fading away, leaving me a pile of treasure. I dig through it. I don’t think about how easy it was, nor that I still don’t know how bad it’s gonna hurt. Just not thinking.

  One bulb, two leaves. I might be able to make something with these leaves, come to think of it. When I first started Elora Online with Peter, who then I still thought of as Jacob-my-bestie, he’d been into crafting almost from Day One. He used to ask me to hold onto odd drops that don’t sell because he could level crafting stats with them. They took longer but cost nothing. They take up inventory space to everyone else and are usually dropped to make room for other goodies.

  Kleeple must have a clothcraft station where I could learn the basic skill, maybe a recipe with this grass…

  So, the time went. I don’t know how long. I covered myself in buffs and destroyed every Wild Onion before it had a chance to even think about me existing. I went into Dragonbane Maniac mode when I farmed for cash. Some people craft, some people hunt mobs with high-priced drops, some just run dungeons, some do raids on The Notorious to get rare, pricy drops, some garden, some do favors with their magic, some make and sell scrolls of magic… and I farm. I zone out and hack and slash and collect. That’s what I do all morning with the Wild Onions until my interface tells me my robe pockets won’t hold any more Onion bulbs and leaves.

  And then, of course, I go to the AH, put the four stacks of bulbs I have up for sale—and when I think about how much the stuff I put up in the AH used to be priced at!—then hunt Kleeple for a weaving instructor who might show me a use for the leaves.

  At this point, I’d like to take an aside. It’s mid-afternoon by the time I’d leveled up weaving to 3, and I get enough cash for a pair of shoes from a stack of bulbs that sell—very comfy, no stats—gloves with +1 INT, and a Crystal Headband from two more bulb stacks. I thought it would look stupid, but it somehow ends up being the same color as my forehead symbol. Glows the same hue ever so gently. It wraps around the front of my hairline and gives me +2 ATT, +1 CRG, +2 CON, +1 MND. I made sure to go to what I knew (would know?) as Plapy’s Playhouse from the day before to examine myself in the mirror behind the bar.

  Instead of regaling you with my first farming attempts to get myself out of the mud and at least heading somewhere gear-wise and stat-wise, I’ll sum it up even more. I spent the whole day farming those damn Wild Onions, and never once did one so much as brush my shoulder. No knowledge yet on the pain front, but I had ten stacks of bulbs, some random low-level gear drops that I couldn’t wear, and leggings I’d crafted with the grass on the AH, and I actually feel physically and mentally tired. I think of the inn from the night before and the bedroll. I won’t have anything like that tonight. Every time something of mine sold on the AH, I bought. I’m broke.

  I leave Kleeple at sunset and head toward the Temple of Nuudlel up the northeast road from the capital. There’s a mailbox at the Temple of Nuudlel if my AH stuff sells, and that’s where the money goes for pickup.

  I sleep in a thick jungle tangle of briars a little way off the path where it winds in an unusual pattern.

  I sleep instantly and wake with the sun. I have no drowsiness like in RL when I wake up. Nice, but weird.

  ~

  The spell-making chamber in the Temple of Nuudlel is packed with players making spells on parchment. Instant, one-time casts, abilities from other classes, stat boosters, damage, healing, protection… you name it. Called Scrolls.

  I find Master Gronai in his turret. He’s a white-haire
d Nuudle Magician with a gnarly staff. I’ll skip the NPC BS for now, but I’m offered options to answer as he discusses his loss of interest. I guess to the best of my knowledge, keeping in mind that Nuudles are particular about the importance of each and every chosen word.

  When he asks me to show him an example of something that might renew his love for the art, I’m stumped.

  In my interface, a one-minute timer pops up and starts counting down.

  He stands there, watching, waiting with a depressed look on his wrinkled, yellow face.

  I start to talk, but he interrupts me.

  “No, no. Enough of words. I’m so tired of words. I want to feel something again.”

  I look around the turret. Bookshelves full of magic books, torches. I can’t figure this out.

  I look back to him. He seems even sadder as the timer reaches ten seconds.

  I run to face him, and do the only thing I can think of.

  Sid casts Spontaneity. Master Gronai gains +40 CRG.

  I hack a torch with my Shaman Stick. It tips over and starts burning a bookshelf. Two seconds left.

  Sid casts Spontaneity. Master Gronai gains +75 CON.

  The timer stops at 00:098.

  Master Gronai stands tall, looks away from me and out of a window at the sunny morning. “You know, I suddenly feel somewhat focused, as though in the past when I have been focused, I’m focusing on negative things.” He turns to me. “You have shown me with your magic that there is magic in the world that can mentally make someone feel better. What is this magic?”

  “It’s a Mystic spell.”

  “You’re a Mystic. Of course.”

  “Yup.” I grin. I did it!

  “Interesting. Interesting. I knew a young Mystic once. She taught me one of her spells—or rather showed me—and I made a scroll that has the ability to grant that particular Mystic spell to any Nuudle I choose. I happen to have one of those scrolls, and I’d like to thank you for helping me.” He holds out a scroll, the Nuudle-written one-timer spell, and it looks like a rolled-up piece of yellowed parchment. These are the things the herd of players are making in the room downstairs.

  I happily take the scroll. “Thank you, Master Gronai.”

  “Use it. I’d like to see it and feel it again. If you will indulge me further?”

  “Of course,” I say as I’m already unrolling it. I select to use the item, and then I physically feel a surge of high energy, like a shock, run through me.

  Sid learns Contemplation.

  I rush to my abilities list.

  Contemplation—Protection for target. – Damage, random. Wears off in 45 seconds. Cumulative.

  “Now, if you will, young Sid,” he urges, looking excited.

  Sid casts Contemplation. Master Gronai gains Protection.

  Silver shoots out of my hands and coats him like a suit of shining body armor, and then he sighs. “Thank you. You, now.”

  I forgot about the fire. I turn, and the bookshelf I hit is smoldering. It seems to have taken care of itself. I whack the blackened bookshelf. Lightning shoots out. No fire this time.

  Sid casts Contemplation. Sid gains Protection.

  The silver flows from my fingertips and spreads all over me. Inside and out, I feel so very safe, warm, like being held by my mother when I was a toddler. It’s amazing, and fades quickly, but leaves a general good, smooth mood after.

  “Holy shit, Master Gronai. Thank you so much!” I hug him. He hugs me back. We’re in-the-know right now.

  “Remember your language, Nuudle Mystic Sid.”

  “Okay.”

  “Words are beings—they are the only way we convey meaning to one another, which gives them ultimate power of union.”

  “My way conveys how I feel pretty well,” I tell him.

  He chuckles. “You may write some interesting scrolls with that attitude.”

  ~

  I’m waiting for Days outside the cave where my quest for the Counts of Hell is. For three days, I grinded for cash, crafted, and spent some time in the history part of the Temple of Nuudlel’s library trying to figure something out. Lots of stories I didn’t know, but nothing helpful to explain my situation.

  Master Gronai is an unusual NPC. They make NPCs compelling now compared to how stiff and repetitive they were, say, twenty years ago. But I genuinely like him and visit him when I’m in the temple. I make sure to cast Contemplation on both of us every time. I’ve even helped him phrase some scrolls I found him working on one day.

  It’s been three days, and I messaged Days about an hour ago telling him I had the spell and new gear. He said he’d meet me at the cave in an hour, so that’s what’s going on.

  I have much better gear now. My robe is blue with white trim, and +2.9 CON, +1.2 INT. My shoes are upgraded to flip-flops with +2 ATT, and I made sure they were comfortable. I have three rings. Altogether, they give me +7 CON, +2 INT, and +2 DEF. It was the best I could do with what I could afford. I think I look kind of cool for a Nuudle, but maybe that’s compared to what I looked like three days ago when I walked into Kleeple for the first time.

  Days flies in on a red and black dragon, along with a Siren named Sorry riding a pitch-black sea serpent. She’s blue, black curly hair, has a crazy, colorful headdress, tight see-through red robes, and sparkling sandals. Yet again in Dark World, I’m seeing gear I’ve never encountered in Elora.

  They land, put their mounts away, and approach me.

  “Looking good, looking good,” Days says to me and claps me on the shoulder. I’m so small that I tumble to the side a little.

  “Sorry, you really don’t seem like a Nuudle.”

  “I know, right?” I shrug.

  “This is Sorry. She’s a Voodoo Lady. I know, never seen one, thought the class was a myth. Like all three of ours, but especially Voodoo Ladies.”

  I’m stunned. She grins at me. “Go ahead, examine me.”

  I do. She has high-stat gear, mostly boosting her INT and CRG. I’m dying to know what this buffer does. She’s in the same class type as Bards and Stylists. Faithgamblers guild, like Days and Simple.

  “Thanks, Sorry. For helping, I mean.”

  “I love big battles.” She smiles, looking wicked.

  “Okay, you ready for this?” says Days. “I’m ready for this. Been dying to tank these guys.”

  “Yes.” I sound positive, but I’m not.

  We enter the dark cave and Sorry casts a spell called Illuminate so we can see. We reach the back of the empty cave and meet a dead end.

  “Now what?” Days asks.

  “The NPC who gave me the quest put this on me and said I’d use it to do the quest somehow.” I hold out my left palm and show them the mark of the Counts.

  Days laughs. “You mean you don’t even know how to enter the battle?”

  Voodoo Lady giggles.

  I crack a smile, then can’t help but chuckle. “I’m such a dumbass.”

  “I bet you do something stupid like put your palm on the wall. Seriously, it’s usually that easy,” says Sorry. She’s right, and I try it.

  And of course, it really is that easy.

  As I pull my now-glowing hand away, the mark from my hand has been transferred to the stone and grows.

  Then everything is black for a few seconds.

  Now all three of us are in the Counts of Hell’s battle arena.

  They are five shadowy ancient men in furs and wearing talismans. They are black and white, which is odd with all the color in the game. They remind me of shamans with bad intent. They instantly move toward us through the round cave room lit by blue torches.

  Days uses Invoke Inner Demon.

  Days tanks up pretty fast and is now the only target the Counts can hit until someone else gets hate.

  The Counts of Hell use Freeze. Days cannot use any abilities for 20 seconds.

  Crap, what’s Freeze?

  It’s what I’m doing right now!

  Sid casts Contemplation. Days gains Protection.

/>   Sorry casts Tribal Curse. The Counts of Hell are cursed.

  Oh my God. They have so many HP bar segments. High stats, high defense, hard hits. I see their life is counting down by about 40HP per second with the curse.

  Sid casts Spontaneity. Sorry gains +45 CRG.

  So, the spell is based on how high your stats are. That’s amazing.

  Days can’t use abilities, but he’s hacking and slashing at them. Is that blood I see? Like, real blood on his hand?

  The Counts of Hell use Burn. Sorry gains the effects of Burn.

  Sorry cries out and rubs her skin all over. Her HP bar drops 30HP every three seconds. Yes, she’s feeling something like burning, alright, and it’s making her have a hard time fighting. Will I be next? She’s feeling pain. That means I can feel pain.

  Shut up, selfish. I have to do something to help her.

  Sid casts Contemplation. Sorry gains Protection.

  “Oh, oh, thank you,” she squeals as white light surrounds her.

  Sorry casts Weaken Enemy. The Counts of Hell have Offense Down.

  That’s great!

  Days gets his abilities back.

  Days uses Crushing Blade.

  He takes 100HP off with that! It must have been one of his bigger moves. Now, the Counts of Hell are at 30% HP.

  Sid casts Contemplation. Days gains Protection.

  I’m hoping with the cumulative effect, that it’ll help him out. He’s at half HP from taking physical contact hits with the five demons. Yeah, we’re all up in the fight, all three of us. I’m stabbing, clubbing, and pounding with a Shaman Stick at the Counts while they slap Days. None of them have hit me. My fear of the pain has hyped my reflexes. I’m great at dodging from so much playing as melee.

  Sorry casts Spiritual Intervention. Days and Sid gain +60 DEF.

  Wow!

  Days’ face doesn’t look as stressed, and he uses his demon-invoking move again, re-engaging all the Counts on him.