Age of Victoria, page 6
If asked the day before if I would be crouched opposite an angry wolf, my answer would have been peals of laughter. That I would be doing it in men’s work pants, with a sword, and wearing the top half of a metal corset, would have left me apoplectic in disbelief. But now, I couldn’t think of a more grand adventure or a place that felt more right.
Lunging forward the wolf tried to bite my ankle. Only a careful step kept my skin unblemished. The miss left the wolf’s head near my ankle, and the downward stroke of my sword hit the animal directly across the brow. This was a far more significant blow, and the fifteen damage and the image of the man with rotating stars and a duck made an appearance. Continuing my assault, I brought my weapon up for a stab, the tip entering above the left shoulder of the animal. A shackled limb joined the revolving stars. That is where my uninjured success ended. Being close to the wolf’s left side had my left arm near the animal’s mouth. Taking advantage of its position, stun notwithstanding, the animal bit down on my left forearm with bone-crushing force. The snap of the arm, along with the red twenty and the bleeding and broken bone images, said that I had made a royal mistake. I should have stood away from the animal and sliced at it as it approached. Without weaponry or armor, it needed to latch on and disable me, which it now had.
My thoughts were oddly coherent for the amount of pain I was experiencing. The curr hanging from my arm was only able to shake intermittently and cause fives and sixes to bloom from my limb. Stabbing my sword, I drove the top into his ribs and flank to a shower of eights and tens. On my third strike, the beast released my forearm and pulled back, its jaw filled with red foam.
My now free arm was held tight to my side as I clenched my belt with my hand. Pain shot through the break at each swing. There were moments of suprise and fear in the rest of the fight, the wolf having some kind of charging lunge attack was a surprise, but nothing like the first bite. The wolf had around fifty hit points at level three, far less than I had at even level one, but also much more than the grass beetles had. The last blow which killed the beast was anti-climatic, I struck it across the nose in a glancing blow, but it was enough to leave its health at zero. The monster collapsed as if it were a puppet which had all its strings cut in a single moment.
I stared at the downed animal, the adrenaline pumping in my body and my breath still forced through my clenched teeth. I leaned on my sword like the Colonel would lean on his cane after climbing the stairs. In my mind's eye, the icon with a broken bone came into focus.
Debuff - Broken Bone (Left Arm)
Increase damage taken to injury.
Movement of limb increases damage taken.
Reduced damage delivered.
Reduced ability to block with a shield.
Duration: 20 minutes
A broken limb in the old world could mean permanent disability or even death. In this world, it meant reduced capabilities for a short period. If it was true that in twenty minutes my arm would no longer be broken, then battle injuries were short-lived affairs and something to avoid but not worry over. My health was hovering around forty points, the bleeding and movement had done almost as much damage as the initial break. I moved away from the patrol area of the wolves and rested against a tree while I watched the timer tick down. My health slowly recovered as I sat and relaxed, the rate of recovery being something like a weeks worth of improvement a minute. When the timer ticked through its final second, a sharp snap sound rang out from my arm but without pain. Holding my hand up and clenching my fist I rotated my arm in different directions in wonder.
Like this, what could stop me?
Chapter 8
While I was dealing with yet another grey wolf, a small blinking icon popped up in the corner of my vision. I focused on the canine and ignored the blinking, the slavering, snapping teeth helping focus my attention. Once I finally killed the wolf, the twenty-five experience pushing me one step closer to leveling, I looked around to check that I wouldn’t be disturbed by another enemy.
The icon was odd, it was three people, in outline only, huddled together. When I focused on it a window popped up.
You have been invited to a group by Robert Collingwood.
Do you wish to join this group?
(Y/N)
I knew that I would have to deal with running off to level instead of huddling down, but I didn’t think they would be able to do it remotely like this. Wiping my hand down my face, I focused on the ‘y’ and accepted the ‘group’ invitation.
“Vick. Where are you?” Robert asked, his voice strained.
I knew that tone of voice. That was Robert's 'trying not to judge my antics while still trying to reign me in' voice. Not this time. I’ve got ten days to get to level ten, and each level has required more experience than the last. I needed to keep killing and fast. Once I reached level ten, then no one could stop me, they would be stuck here, but I would be free. I just needed to focus on my freedom.
“I’m going to reach level ten. I’m perfectly fine. You can stop worrying about me, tell the Colonel he should stay there, I don’t need him,” I said, intending for my voice to reach the group and using the group chat feature just like it had been described in the tutorial. The tutorial had only glossed over it, but it was as easy as it had been described. Intend for your voice to go to a specific ‘channel,’ and it went there. Odd, but useful.
Robert didn’t respond for a moment, long enough that I thought the conversation was over before he continued.
“The Colonel isn’t coming. It’s just us in the group, and we are going to help you with this insane plan,” Robert said.
I glanced at the group list, a set of small icons on the left-hand side of my vision, Emma, Annie, Robert, Me. I fully expected Robert, but the lack of the Colonel and the stablemaster had me confused. Emma and Annie would have wanted to help, but I never thought for a moment that they would be allowed to come along.
“Why?” I asked, the question slipping out in my confusion.
The next pause had me looking around for another grey wolf, the fights were easy enough, now that I knew to keep them at a distance, that even a conversation shouldn’t cause me a problem. Walking along I intercepted another wolf and began the, by now, routine dance of death.
“Do you know why the Colonel retired?”
The odd question had me stumbling for a moment. The Colonel retired because of his injury; he had a limp. My answer to Robert had him sighing in my ear, a curiously disturbing experience when no one but the wolf was near.
“The Colonel has Soldier’s Heart.”
I almost brained myself with my sword, the large cleaver-like blade sliding past my ear. With an aggressive roar, I kicked the lunging wolf in the snout and slashed the edge of blade against the canine multiple times. I didn’t even wait for the regular pauses in the wolf’s rhythm. I was bitten on the ankle, but I failed to let it slow me down. I would recover after the fight. I kept hitting the canine until it died with a whimper, then I focused on the chat window which I had left silent.
“The Colonel is one of the bravest men I know! He's no coward!”
I couldn’t contain myself. It wasn’t ladylike to shout like this, it would be rude for even a gentleman, but such an accusation was worthy of ostracism or a duel as far as I was concerned.
“He isn’t. He has just seen too much of combat. He has trouble making decisions. He has been under too great a stress too often. I think that he is afraid that if he changes his mind about what to do, then he won’t be able to make up his mind at all. That’s why your Father asked him to retire, he was going the way of more than one soldier, and he didn’t want him to end up in Colney Hatch,” Robert said, his voice rising at the end.
The mention of the new asylum had me frozen in place. More than one young dandy had tried to gain my fancy by telling me tales of their adventure and daring. One that had drawn a sick fascination was a recitation of the tours which had once been popular at Bethlem, a tale so lurid that I was ill in short order. I knew that over the years that reforms had been instituted for asylums, but the shame and the suffering of such a thing would have ruined the Collingwood's.
“Mr. Nye has refused to leave his son, no one can trust Rebecca, and Owen…uncle is barricading the mansion and making it safe.”
I slowed at the mention of Owen. I was sure that the disruption of his schedule was a burden to him. Just moving from London to the summer mansion had him confused and upset for days. This confusion would leave him angry but unable to express it because of his training. I felt for him, but the others could care for him. I needed this if I was to be able to travel to father, and if I was going to be free of this place. I refused to be stuck in the countryside unable to leave.
Emma’s voice cut across the group chat, she and Annie had let Robert take the lead, but she wouldn’t allow his failure to convince me to rest.
“You are acting like a child. You haven’t even prepared for this little journey, have you? Did you even pay attention during the tutorial?” she asked.
“I went through the tutorial just like…” I began, but Emma cut me off.
“No, you paid attention to the things which you found exciting and ignored anything else, just like you always do. You don’t have a lick of practical sense in your head. I can see your level is two in the group window. Have you even assigned your attribute points?”
Quickly I opened my character window. The ‘stats’ for my ‘character’ were displayed in white, all tens, the human normal at level one. Each stat was abbreviated, and I had to focus on them to remember what they were: strength (STR), constitution (CON), agility (AGI), dexterity (DEX), intelligence (INT), wisdom (WIS), charisma (CHA). What I hadn’t noticed at first, though I remember the tutorial mentioning it, was the little area below my stats where I would gain attribute points. I had five points there, and each of my stats had a little plus next to them.
“Focus on your class name, and it will say what your primary and secondary stats are, put most off your points in your primary stat and the rest in your secondary stat. Waste them, and it could cause your death,” Emma said, her voice cold and sharp.
The tutorial had said something about this, but I had paid little attention to it. I had been filled with adrenaline and excitement from the fight with the rat.
I was reminded of the time I fell from a tree and landed on a sharp rock, the point driving into my side and ripping the tunic that had been part of my early adventuring clothing. Emma had explained to me that she needed me to be safe and that if she caught me doing something dangerous again, she would write to my father herself. While she had coldly talked to me, she had also been white-faced and tense. Her mother, Sophia, had died no more than a few months before that incident. I think the fragility of life and her place in it, was uppermost in her mind.
This was the same voice as that day. Cold, sharp, and suppressing the fear of loss.
As much as I hated being told what to do, she was right. I needed to act within this world’s rules. It was far more violent and deadly than the old one. I couldn’t just ignore the things that had bored me before. Now they could mean my death. When focusing on the warrior class, the information window told me that my primary stat was constitution and my secondary stat was strength. Point distribution was simple, three to CON, two to STR. I would continue that pattern at each level.
I was secretly thankful that Emma had said something. If I had noticed on my own, I might have been tempted to put points into charisma. I wasn’t vain, but like any woman, I had compared myself to others and found myself wanting. Being a little bit prettier sounded nice, but staying alive in my new world seemed better.
Once I assigned my points, my health shot up, the ninety-three becoming a hundred and twenty. Twenty-seven more life would make all the difference. I didn’t seem to be any stronger as far as I could tell. My blade was oversized and thick, the weapon looked more like a long cleaver than a sword. Despite its size and mass, I could move it quickly and freely, a pleasing experience for someone who was barred from most types of outside activity.
I stared at the group window for a while, trying to control my conflicting emotions. Anger at the way they were talking down to me, frustration at the lack of control in my life, happiness that my family and friends cared so much for me, sadness that they would want to stop me from being free.
“I’ll be safe. Thank’s Em,” I said, trying to sound appreciative only.
“Don’t thank me. If you die, I’ll beat you myself. Now come back home.”
“No, but I’ll stay in chat, and sis, I’ll be safe, I promise.”
My sister didn’t respond, but she had always been timid in stressful situations. She was more likely to accept the consensus than make her own decision. The silence weighed on me; I could feel her disagreement. They remained in the group, but silent. On my minimap, I could see their markers still at the mansion. I wondered if they were trying to convince Markus or Philip to ‘rescue’ me. This just meant I had a shorter deadline than I had first thought.
I continued my march to the cave marker, the wolves becoming more sparse as I went. The first change I noticed was the increase to the damage my blade and kicks did since my attribute change. It wasn’t a significant difference, twelves becoming fifteens and the like, but it was enough to notice. Each wolf went down faster, and my experience grew. In short order, I was level three and distributing my new attribute points.
The new skills were the real benefit.
Level up!
Victoria [Warrior lvl 3] - at level 10 NPC's will no longer be zone locked.
New Skills!
Gained Skill - War Cry - Vigour.
Gained Skill - Taunt.
I didn’t know how I knew, but I knew that my taunt skill would only work on an opponent. I couldn’t practice it without a target. ‘War Cry - Vigor’ on the other hand could be done at any time. Checking for nearby enemies, of which there were none, I decided to give it a try. Focusing on the skill, an odd feeling inside that was unlike anything I had experienced in my earlier life, I selected the ability.
A roar of violence screamed from my lungs. The sound made me think that my vocal cords had been shredded from the force of my shout, the wave of sound bursting outward. Grasping my throat I prepared for my voice to be hoarse or the pain to suddenly reach me, but I felt fine. A few tests of my voice found it as usual. The new buff in the corner of my eye explained what my new skill did.
Buff - War Cry - Vigor
Increases aggro generation (self)
Increases melee damage output (30 meters, group)
Reduces stamina usage (30 meters, group)
Duration: 1 minute
The frightening sound aside, the ‘buffs’ effect was useful. It didn’t last long, the buff began blinking at the thirty-second mark, but until now my marks of rage had just been sitting there doing nothing. They had filled quickly in each fight, then faded slowly at the end of each battle, this was the first skill that allowed me to use them.
Continuing my walk I noticed that the forest was now empty, no grey wolves were anywhere near. The reason why was soon apparent. Walking along an animal trail was a goblin hunter.
Goblin Hunter
Ranger - Lvl 3
This would be an even fight.
While it said it would be an even fight, I still remembered the goblin raiders and how quickly the Colonel had dispatched them. The grey wolves were level three, just the same as this goblin ranger, which means this should be easy enough. I glanced to my buff, and it was fading out and had only seconds left, so I rushed forward to try and attack the goblin before it faded.
I failed to reach the goblin before the buff disappeared, but my haste caused me other issues. The goblin was using a bow, and when it noticed me, it drew back an arrow and let loose. The shaft burying itself into my shoulder as a red twelve floated free. The sudden pain had me clutching my wound and gasping, the bleeding debuff knocking off another five points. The sound of an arrow leaving the goblins bow brought me out of my stupor, but only long enough to watch the bolt slam into my chest. The second arrow hit me above the bust line. The chain mail was too low cut to block the blow. Despite the non-functional nature of the armor, the arrow still bounced off my bare skin. The impact did ten damage, but the bolt failed to penetrate, and I wasn’t suffering from a second bleeding debuff.
The goblin hunter had backed up after each shot. It stood, watching me, it’s bow ready and with an arrow nocked, but it didn’t fire. With a minor pinch the shaft in my shoulder popped out and the bleeding debuff faded. I was down forty life, and it was barely recovering since I was ‘in a battle,’ but the goblin just stood and watched me. I could see how our battle would go, I would attack, and it would just retreat, peppering me with arrows as it went. I would probably run the monster down, but it was a question of what condition I would be in when I finally reached him. Worse, if an arrow struck my legs, it might just be able to stay beyond my reach. At that point I wouldn’t be able to escape or attack it, my death would be assured.
Grinning, the goblin just waited while I clenched my sword. Gritting my teeth, I made the only smart decision I could make. I turned and ran.
I wasn’t able to hear the goblin behind me, though the arrow flying wide of me during my flight told me that I was still being pursued. I knew the terrain in this area, the area around the clearing being the most heavily explored by our group. Angling my escape towards a small ravine, always dry except during the beginning of spring, I slowed to watch for the creek bed. Coming over a short rise, I nearly fell over the stony cliff even as I anticipated it. Hopping down, I ducked under the short overhang. Waiting, I listened for the sound of the pursuing goblin.
