Fragments (Somnia Online Book 3), page 3
“You knew about Hazenthorne?” Sinister stepped toward him, her voice incredulous.
Telvar shook his head quickly. “Hazenthorne isn’t my domain. I only realized what had happened after the fact. Thus, I assume Hightower will be the same.”
Veranol drew in an exaggerated sigh. “You really know how to put a dampener on things there Mr. Telvar.”
The dragon shrugged his shoulders. “I do try.”
Murmur laughed. “You try a little too hard. Anyway. Pretty sure everything we killed will have respawned, so there’s the experience we need.”
“You speak such truth, Mur.” Merlin grinned at her. “Of course, let’s just hope those war mongering scouts have decided to leave us alone, otherwise it could get pretty hairy.”
His eyes twinkled merrily, and Sinister groaned.
“Why do you guys do this to me? Always with the suggestions and hints that end up biting us in the butt. I mean seriously. Come on?” She opened her arms, pleading with them.
“What’s that, Miss? Oh, maybe bears should live in forests?” Beastial bent over, cupping his ear as if trying to hear her better. “I can’t hear you!”
Somnia Online Location: Ululate
Dustmoon Tavern: Meeting Room Two
End of Day Ten
Masha leaned next to the doorway with one foot on the wall. His arms were crossed and he chewed on a stalk of grass as he watched the meeting. Ishwa probably thought the cleric took up the stance next to the door so he could make sure only those people they wanted entered the room, and Masha was perfectly content to let him continue to think that way.
Realistically, Masha liked his spot near the door so he could walk out if things got boring, or too violent for his liking. As much as he valued his friendship with the gnome, lately, he’d been wondering if it could be better to sever ties and go join another guild, say Fable. It’d be nice not to have to keep cleaning up after messes people like Jirald made.
Speak of the devil.
Jirald sauntered into the room, his health still regenerating slowly after god knows what it was he’d just had a run in with. His rogue leathers were tattered in a few spots, especially around the mid-left of his body, where it appeared large rat claws had ripped through the fabric, rending the flesh below that was now bright red fresh scar and healing slowly.
Resisting the urge to heal the rogue, Masha kept his arms crossed. Maybe the kid would learn through pain for once. Not that Jirald was actually a kid. As far as Masha had been able to tell, Jirald was close to his twenties, if not already in them. His volatile temperament often made him seem far younger. At any rate, a lot of the players were younger than Masha. Age was no excuse.
“Excellent.” Ishwa’s voice projected over the tightly squeezed gathering. Thirty some odd people made for standing room only.
Masha scowled, irritated at people getting so close to him and his path of retreat. But he listened to his friend, directing the scowl at anyone else who eyed the door instead.
“We’re moving our guild base,” Ishwa announced. The statement, as firm as steel, was met with only a few grumbles. “We’ve managed to amass enough coin to purchase a fantastic bit of land over on the Firtulai continent. It’s perfect for building a following.”
Whispers spread throughout the room. Most of them sounded agreeable. Only Jirald remained unmoved, or perhaps unmovable. His eyes twitched slightly, the only indication he wasn’t a statue. Masha focused on the rogue. His shoulders tensed up, rising slowly.
“We’ll be building to the southwest of the gnome city, Brevint. Yeah, yeah, I know.” Ishwa held up his hands as mumbles began circling the room. “I know it’s close to my home city, but what did you expect?”
His large blue eyes twinkled just a tad, enough to cause a small ripple of laughter to spread throughout the room. Except Jirald. Masha frowned. He could almost see lines of steam rising up from Jirald’s head, like they were in some old cartoon.
With a sigh, he pushed himself away from the wall to stand next to the rogue, elbowing a couple of people out of the way in the process.
“We’ll venture to Pelagu and catch the boat across to Elgors. From there, take the wagons out to Brevint. I want everyone there within the next ten in-game hours, and we’ll go over our leveling strategies. It’s time to knuckle down and take this seriously.” For such a small being, Ishwa was full of presence, and his voice resonated throughout the room, warning everyone that he was serious.
“You know he’s right, don’t you?” Masha spoke close to Jirald’s ear, perfectly aware that the younger man knew he was standing there.
“So?” Jirald’s tension levels remained the same.
“So stop acting like you’re five, and behave like you’re an adult. Get your head out of your ass, and out of foiling Murmur’s plans and work on getting stronger so you have a hope in hell.” Masha shoved his hands in his pockets as the rest of the room began to file out past them. “And for the love of all things in this game, stop the sulking. You’re walking around like a dark thundercloud over a piece of loot from a different game and all because a girl played you into the ground. Deal with it, Jirald. Come up with a way to play better, and just deal with it.”
Jirald’s eyes grew bigger, like shocked galaxies. “I’m figuring that shit out.”
“You’re a good kid. I know you hate being called kid, so start acting like an adult, and we’ll all treat you like one.” With that, Masha turned on his heel and headed to talk to Ishwa. He only hoped that Jirald actually took his words to heart for once.
Storm Entertainment
Somnia Online Division
Game Development Offices - Shayla Johnson’s Office
Day Ten
Laria was chewing on her fingernails again. Shayla watched her, not entirely sure how to broach the subject, but considering it was her quasi niece in the coma, she’d decided not to pull any punches, even with the kid’s parents.
“When you said the AIs helped you, what exactly did you mean?” Shayla’s tone held steel and determination.
Laria stopped chewing on her nails, a fingertip resting against her bottom lip as she looked up at Shayla. “I’d seen him—Michael—talking to them, so I just assumed I could too. Maybe I hoped I could? I don’t know. I was desperate. They were responsible for the data transfer and the whole functional portion of the scan. I was grasping at straws.”
“I’m not angry. I’m just trying to understand so we can figure a way out of this.” Shayla was trying hard not to lose her patience, but Laria obviously wasn’t sleeping much these days and it was affecting the way she carried herself. It wouldn’t take too long until someone noticed. It had even crossed Shayla’s mind in a cartoonish way that it might be an idea to bop her over the head and make her sleep, but it was just a fantasy. Laria would probably see the blow coming anyway and dodge.
Laria closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath. “Sorry, Shay. I’m just tired, worn out, and a little frazzled.”
“You don’t say?” Shayla couldn’t stop the words before they came out, and cringed at the sound of her own sarcasm, but Laria chuckled and shook her head.
“Guess that’s obvious then.” She worked her shoulders in circles and finally met Shayla’s eyes. “I begged them to monitor her. To see if there really was the brain activity I thought there was. I don’t even know how or what they did, but her mind is able to function. It gives us time.”
Time. Not a commodity for anyone, but Shayla admired her friend’s go get ‘em attitude, after all, it was part of what made her one amazing designer. Laria had drive and skill in abundance, and she never backed down when she knew she was right, which was most of the time when it had to do with games. With other things, less so.
Shayla hadn’t seen her friend like this before. So unsure of herself, second guessing everything she’d done on a timeline only she intricately understood. Worry lines creased her face, having added themselves in the span of almost ten weeks. Her eyes were haunted, and bags hung under them, a shade of purple that almost seemed like she wore eye makeup, but Shayla knew that wasn’t true.
Nope, Laria had never been this uncertain, this hesitant, or this worried before. Slowly, the designer’s mask was crumbling. Her professional façade was fraying around the edges, letting her real life intrude, like toxic waste in a river.
Damn it. Shayla had been so busy she hadn’t seen the signs, and now she was wondering if there was anything she could do to help. Even if she did think of something, there were no guarantees she’d be able to save Laria from the downward spiral she was guilting herself into.
Murmur hit level twenty-seven without any fanfare whatsoever, and cast Weaken for about the eighty-seventh time. She wished beyond anything that she could just set her character to do things automatically while she tried to scour the internet for things that might help as they leveled up. One more level for her, and about one and a half for the rest of the group.
“I hate hate hate hate undead dwarves,” she muttered under her breath again.
“We know!” her group chorused like a dissonant song that echoed off the stone walls surrounding them.
“We’re never going to hit twenty-eight,” Sinister grumbled as she cast yet another Blood Tap.
“This should be called Monotony Online,” Beastial growled out as his cat, yet again, went for an undead dwarf’s heel.
“If something suddenly pushed up from under the ground and devours us all,” Sinister drawled, “I’m probably going to hug you for waking me up.”
Devlish laughed and grunted as he shield bashed yet another grey dwarf. “Sadly, right now I’d like something with super powers to jump out of the ground and scare us. Or maybe over the wall. Or perhaps even out a window.”
Merlin stopped firing his bow and glanced at his fingers with a frown. “I think I actually have blisters on my fingertips. That I’ll actually get calluses at some point. Maybe I do need a protective glove thing. Isn’t that weirdly specific?”
Havoc shrugged. “It’s also something you’d probably only notice when you’re bored shitless. I’m contemplating just how I’m able to do so much more damage to undead when it seems logical that everyone should be able to. Why would it be more difficult for anyone? They’re already dead, right? They’re not regenerating or anything.”
Merlin frowned, loosing another arrow. “Technically sure, by normal means. But in order to be animated dead, don’t they have to be powered by something, like dark magic?”
“True.” Havoc bit his lip, sending his specter pet in again, this time equipped with a scythe. “There’s got to be some level of dark magic there. I can’t raise a full-bodied zombie or undead like this. I can only pull the skeletons out of already existing bodies.”
He paused with a frown. “That sounded wrong. Out of already dead bodies.”
“Had me worried there for a moment.” Devlish grinned as he got through a dwarf’s defenses and finally cleaved it almost clean in two at the juncture of the neck and shoulder. He leaned on his axe and smiled, panting. “This whole having to aim properly and shit is damned tiring. I get realistic, but I swear this is actually a work out. Maybe after a few more weeks of this, I’ll be ripped?”
Beastial cracked up. “Ripped? You?”
“Shut up.” Devlish punched him in the arm. “You’re one to talk.”
“Yeah, but I’m not dreaming like some people.” This time Beast bounced out the way before Devlish could connect with a not-so-light punch. “Seriously though. It’s a work out and a half. The amount of damage the enemies mitigate when I don’t get the perfect hit in? Very frustrating. But at least it treats us the same. The enemy has to hit us in exactly the right spot to be able to do critical damage.”
“Unless you wear cloth.” Sinister offered helpfully.
“Yeah.” Beastial looked away. “I don’t have that problem though.”
Murmur watched her friends and their theories, their banter and their interactions. She didn’t feel like they were trying to shelter her anymore, and so they weren’t making stupid mistakes or being inadvertent dicks. “We need to move past this rock so we can get bogged down with tedium again guys.”
Sinister chuckled. “Yes. By golly! We need to go and be absolutely bored, in ennui!”
“I vote we kill shit.” Devlish added. “Starting with the three dwarves Merlin is about to pull over to us. Concentrate or we’re going to die and have to start this all over again.”
The last got their attention, and everyone focused on the incoming undead. Murmur had paused with her Mez, waiting for the right moment to trigger it, when a strange fuzziness enveloped her head, and a voice leaked through to her.
I don’t like what…
Murmur balked and missed her cue. There was no Dansyn to pick up her slack while they were all separated, and only the quick thinking of Merlin casting Scatter Shot saved them. She clamped down on her shock and waited until they began to converge again, barely getting off her area of effect stun. Just as she activated Mez on the ranged mage, her father’s voice intruded again.
Harsh truth to...
She clenched her teeth and tried to shift her focus to the fight. Maybe it would be a good idea to head home after they were finished with the castle, even if home was only a simulation.
Murmur groaned. Clearing the entire left side around the humungous castle that Hightower was had taken it all out of her. They’d been here for at least twelve in-game hours, which meant six real world ones. She’d hit twenty-eight herself and knew the others were about to. If they could get through the last twenty or so small patrols who were hidden behind a maze of small stone shacks, then the rest of the team would hit twenty-eight. Snowy sat at her feet, looking back up at her as if to ask why the hell they were still killing these really annoying enemies. He was obviously a bit disgruntled by the whole situation. She couldn’t blame him. Biting undead couldn’t be pleasant.
Casting her debuffs, buffs, and damage spells had become second nature, to such an extent that she reacted now instead of consciously doing it. Right down to no longer needing to knot her fingers together. Summoning the ability with just a thought took far less time and felt more powerful even if it occasionally seemed precarious.
She kept a close eye on both Sinister and Havoc, wanting to know if they had the same progression, but both of them required the use of their spell fingers still. Maybe her mind was more in tune with the system, given how it was intertwined with it. She just didn’t know, which was the root of the problem getting back to her real self. It was all so confusing; she needed time to sit down and examine it.
Last time they’d decided not to clear all around the castle before heading in. She was grateful to Telvar for letting them know how the castle worked. It gave her hope they could clear this, and then head back to Hazenthorne at some stage for a good dose of revenge on that power leeching queen bitch.
Murmur sighed. “You know we can’t even take a break after you all hit your level, right? We need to go inside as a guild and just go for it.”
“Not even a pee break?” Merlin’s tone was plaintive.
Murmur blinked, and stifled a laugh as she released yet another Mez at a fully disgruntled dwarf. She’d never been so grateful for taunt before. “Fine, a pee break, but take turns. We don’t want the castle’s outer rim to respawn.”
Devlish actually shuddered, visibly as his strong lacerta arms swung his axe, partially blocked by his opponent’s sword. “I’m not doing this a second time. We have to make this count. Oh, how we have to make this count.”
He heaved against the blow, grunting as he attempted to riposte the parry. Sweat beaded his brow, glinting against his scales. Murmur marveled at the level of detail, the living and breathing aspects of Somnia.
She glanced around and noticed the one line of the maze they hadn’t actually worked through yet. It was closest to the castle, backing onto it in fact. “We should move toward that long line of small patrols. If we take them one after another, we should get everyone else leveled by the time we reach the entrance.”
“It looks like they’re pointing us in that direction anyway,” Beastial said as they moved onto the next group. “I wish these guys at least dropped something interesting along the way. Right now, all we’re getting is armor remnants and shitty silver swords.”
“Just funnel them through to guild storage.” Murmur shrugged, and tried not to punctuate her yawn with a groan. “At least this killing me with tedium adventure can make Neva happy.”
“You realize what’s going to happen, don’t you?” Havoc asked and continued without waiting for an answer. “We’re going to get in that castle, and the enemies are going to shit on us.”
“Counting on it.” Devlish grinned, and attacked his current target with renewed zeal. “We’re going to go down in a blaze of glory.”
Merlin smacked him on the shoulder. “Don’t go getting ahead of ourselves there. It’s going to take us a bit to get through here. Let’s wait a bit before we decide to go down fighting, okay?”
Even as he spoke the words, Murmur got a sudden feeling of foreboding. She glanced up at the stocky castle and its grey stone ramparts, shadowed by the oncoming clouds. Wind whipped at the dark flags jutting out from the ramparts three stories up, making them seem like tiny, angry symbols of war.
Don’t know how yet...
This time her mother’s voice invaded her mind, and she desperately wanted to wake up and tell them to get out of her room, because apparently they didn’t realize they could be distracting. She lost a couple of seconds in the game world again, and when she re-oriented herself again, realized Merlin had signaled her.
Murmur responded with a thought, immediately freezing the two undead dwarves they wouldn’t be fighting in place in such quick succession it appeared she’d done them both at once, and yet she knew better. She’d activated the spell twice, but the higher her levels, and the more her mental shielding increased, the faster her mind could trigger her spells, unless they had a specified cool down.
Telvar shook his head quickly. “Hazenthorne isn’t my domain. I only realized what had happened after the fact. Thus, I assume Hightower will be the same.”
Veranol drew in an exaggerated sigh. “You really know how to put a dampener on things there Mr. Telvar.”
The dragon shrugged his shoulders. “I do try.”
Murmur laughed. “You try a little too hard. Anyway. Pretty sure everything we killed will have respawned, so there’s the experience we need.”
“You speak such truth, Mur.” Merlin grinned at her. “Of course, let’s just hope those war mongering scouts have decided to leave us alone, otherwise it could get pretty hairy.”
His eyes twinkled merrily, and Sinister groaned.
“Why do you guys do this to me? Always with the suggestions and hints that end up biting us in the butt. I mean seriously. Come on?” She opened her arms, pleading with them.
“What’s that, Miss? Oh, maybe bears should live in forests?” Beastial bent over, cupping his ear as if trying to hear her better. “I can’t hear you!”
Somnia Online Location: Ululate
Dustmoon Tavern: Meeting Room Two
End of Day Ten
Masha leaned next to the doorway with one foot on the wall. His arms were crossed and he chewed on a stalk of grass as he watched the meeting. Ishwa probably thought the cleric took up the stance next to the door so he could make sure only those people they wanted entered the room, and Masha was perfectly content to let him continue to think that way.
Realistically, Masha liked his spot near the door so he could walk out if things got boring, or too violent for his liking. As much as he valued his friendship with the gnome, lately, he’d been wondering if it could be better to sever ties and go join another guild, say Fable. It’d be nice not to have to keep cleaning up after messes people like Jirald made.
Speak of the devil.
Jirald sauntered into the room, his health still regenerating slowly after god knows what it was he’d just had a run in with. His rogue leathers were tattered in a few spots, especially around the mid-left of his body, where it appeared large rat claws had ripped through the fabric, rending the flesh below that was now bright red fresh scar and healing slowly.
Resisting the urge to heal the rogue, Masha kept his arms crossed. Maybe the kid would learn through pain for once. Not that Jirald was actually a kid. As far as Masha had been able to tell, Jirald was close to his twenties, if not already in them. His volatile temperament often made him seem far younger. At any rate, a lot of the players were younger than Masha. Age was no excuse.
“Excellent.” Ishwa’s voice projected over the tightly squeezed gathering. Thirty some odd people made for standing room only.
Masha scowled, irritated at people getting so close to him and his path of retreat. But he listened to his friend, directing the scowl at anyone else who eyed the door instead.
“We’re moving our guild base,” Ishwa announced. The statement, as firm as steel, was met with only a few grumbles. “We’ve managed to amass enough coin to purchase a fantastic bit of land over on the Firtulai continent. It’s perfect for building a following.”
Whispers spread throughout the room. Most of them sounded agreeable. Only Jirald remained unmoved, or perhaps unmovable. His eyes twitched slightly, the only indication he wasn’t a statue. Masha focused on the rogue. His shoulders tensed up, rising slowly.
“We’ll be building to the southwest of the gnome city, Brevint. Yeah, yeah, I know.” Ishwa held up his hands as mumbles began circling the room. “I know it’s close to my home city, but what did you expect?”
His large blue eyes twinkled just a tad, enough to cause a small ripple of laughter to spread throughout the room. Except Jirald. Masha frowned. He could almost see lines of steam rising up from Jirald’s head, like they were in some old cartoon.
With a sigh, he pushed himself away from the wall to stand next to the rogue, elbowing a couple of people out of the way in the process.
“We’ll venture to Pelagu and catch the boat across to Elgors. From there, take the wagons out to Brevint. I want everyone there within the next ten in-game hours, and we’ll go over our leveling strategies. It’s time to knuckle down and take this seriously.” For such a small being, Ishwa was full of presence, and his voice resonated throughout the room, warning everyone that he was serious.
“You know he’s right, don’t you?” Masha spoke close to Jirald’s ear, perfectly aware that the younger man knew he was standing there.
“So?” Jirald’s tension levels remained the same.
“So stop acting like you’re five, and behave like you’re an adult. Get your head out of your ass, and out of foiling Murmur’s plans and work on getting stronger so you have a hope in hell.” Masha shoved his hands in his pockets as the rest of the room began to file out past them. “And for the love of all things in this game, stop the sulking. You’re walking around like a dark thundercloud over a piece of loot from a different game and all because a girl played you into the ground. Deal with it, Jirald. Come up with a way to play better, and just deal with it.”
Jirald’s eyes grew bigger, like shocked galaxies. “I’m figuring that shit out.”
“You’re a good kid. I know you hate being called kid, so start acting like an adult, and we’ll all treat you like one.” With that, Masha turned on his heel and headed to talk to Ishwa. He only hoped that Jirald actually took his words to heart for once.
Storm Entertainment
Somnia Online Division
Game Development Offices - Shayla Johnson’s Office
Day Ten
Laria was chewing on her fingernails again. Shayla watched her, not entirely sure how to broach the subject, but considering it was her quasi niece in the coma, she’d decided not to pull any punches, even with the kid’s parents.
“When you said the AIs helped you, what exactly did you mean?” Shayla’s tone held steel and determination.
Laria stopped chewing on her nails, a fingertip resting against her bottom lip as she looked up at Shayla. “I’d seen him—Michael—talking to them, so I just assumed I could too. Maybe I hoped I could? I don’t know. I was desperate. They were responsible for the data transfer and the whole functional portion of the scan. I was grasping at straws.”
“I’m not angry. I’m just trying to understand so we can figure a way out of this.” Shayla was trying hard not to lose her patience, but Laria obviously wasn’t sleeping much these days and it was affecting the way she carried herself. It wouldn’t take too long until someone noticed. It had even crossed Shayla’s mind in a cartoonish way that it might be an idea to bop her over the head and make her sleep, but it was just a fantasy. Laria would probably see the blow coming anyway and dodge.
Laria closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath. “Sorry, Shay. I’m just tired, worn out, and a little frazzled.”
“You don’t say?” Shayla couldn’t stop the words before they came out, and cringed at the sound of her own sarcasm, but Laria chuckled and shook her head.
“Guess that’s obvious then.” She worked her shoulders in circles and finally met Shayla’s eyes. “I begged them to monitor her. To see if there really was the brain activity I thought there was. I don’t even know how or what they did, but her mind is able to function. It gives us time.”
Time. Not a commodity for anyone, but Shayla admired her friend’s go get ‘em attitude, after all, it was part of what made her one amazing designer. Laria had drive and skill in abundance, and she never backed down when she knew she was right, which was most of the time when it had to do with games. With other things, less so.
Shayla hadn’t seen her friend like this before. So unsure of herself, second guessing everything she’d done on a timeline only she intricately understood. Worry lines creased her face, having added themselves in the span of almost ten weeks. Her eyes were haunted, and bags hung under them, a shade of purple that almost seemed like she wore eye makeup, but Shayla knew that wasn’t true.
Nope, Laria had never been this uncertain, this hesitant, or this worried before. Slowly, the designer’s mask was crumbling. Her professional façade was fraying around the edges, letting her real life intrude, like toxic waste in a river.
Damn it. Shayla had been so busy she hadn’t seen the signs, and now she was wondering if there was anything she could do to help. Even if she did think of something, there were no guarantees she’d be able to save Laria from the downward spiral she was guilting herself into.
Murmur hit level twenty-seven without any fanfare whatsoever, and cast Weaken for about the eighty-seventh time. She wished beyond anything that she could just set her character to do things automatically while she tried to scour the internet for things that might help as they leveled up. One more level for her, and about one and a half for the rest of the group.
“I hate hate hate hate undead dwarves,” she muttered under her breath again.
“We know!” her group chorused like a dissonant song that echoed off the stone walls surrounding them.
“We’re never going to hit twenty-eight,” Sinister grumbled as she cast yet another Blood Tap.
“This should be called Monotony Online,” Beastial growled out as his cat, yet again, went for an undead dwarf’s heel.
“If something suddenly pushed up from under the ground and devours us all,” Sinister drawled, “I’m probably going to hug you for waking me up.”
Devlish laughed and grunted as he shield bashed yet another grey dwarf. “Sadly, right now I’d like something with super powers to jump out of the ground and scare us. Or maybe over the wall. Or perhaps even out a window.”
Merlin stopped firing his bow and glanced at his fingers with a frown. “I think I actually have blisters on my fingertips. That I’ll actually get calluses at some point. Maybe I do need a protective glove thing. Isn’t that weirdly specific?”
Havoc shrugged. “It’s also something you’d probably only notice when you’re bored shitless. I’m contemplating just how I’m able to do so much more damage to undead when it seems logical that everyone should be able to. Why would it be more difficult for anyone? They’re already dead, right? They’re not regenerating or anything.”
Merlin frowned, loosing another arrow. “Technically sure, by normal means. But in order to be animated dead, don’t they have to be powered by something, like dark magic?”
“True.” Havoc bit his lip, sending his specter pet in again, this time equipped with a scythe. “There’s got to be some level of dark magic there. I can’t raise a full-bodied zombie or undead like this. I can only pull the skeletons out of already existing bodies.”
He paused with a frown. “That sounded wrong. Out of already dead bodies.”
“Had me worried there for a moment.” Devlish grinned as he got through a dwarf’s defenses and finally cleaved it almost clean in two at the juncture of the neck and shoulder. He leaned on his axe and smiled, panting. “This whole having to aim properly and shit is damned tiring. I get realistic, but I swear this is actually a work out. Maybe after a few more weeks of this, I’ll be ripped?”
Beastial cracked up. “Ripped? You?”
“Shut up.” Devlish punched him in the arm. “You’re one to talk.”
“Yeah, but I’m not dreaming like some people.” This time Beast bounced out the way before Devlish could connect with a not-so-light punch. “Seriously though. It’s a work out and a half. The amount of damage the enemies mitigate when I don’t get the perfect hit in? Very frustrating. But at least it treats us the same. The enemy has to hit us in exactly the right spot to be able to do critical damage.”
“Unless you wear cloth.” Sinister offered helpfully.
“Yeah.” Beastial looked away. “I don’t have that problem though.”
Murmur watched her friends and their theories, their banter and their interactions. She didn’t feel like they were trying to shelter her anymore, and so they weren’t making stupid mistakes or being inadvertent dicks. “We need to move past this rock so we can get bogged down with tedium again guys.”
Sinister chuckled. “Yes. By golly! We need to go and be absolutely bored, in ennui!”
“I vote we kill shit.” Devlish added. “Starting with the three dwarves Merlin is about to pull over to us. Concentrate or we’re going to die and have to start this all over again.”
The last got their attention, and everyone focused on the incoming undead. Murmur had paused with her Mez, waiting for the right moment to trigger it, when a strange fuzziness enveloped her head, and a voice leaked through to her.
I don’t like what…
Murmur balked and missed her cue. There was no Dansyn to pick up her slack while they were all separated, and only the quick thinking of Merlin casting Scatter Shot saved them. She clamped down on her shock and waited until they began to converge again, barely getting off her area of effect stun. Just as she activated Mez on the ranged mage, her father’s voice intruded again.
Harsh truth to...
She clenched her teeth and tried to shift her focus to the fight. Maybe it would be a good idea to head home after they were finished with the castle, even if home was only a simulation.
Murmur groaned. Clearing the entire left side around the humungous castle that Hightower was had taken it all out of her. They’d been here for at least twelve in-game hours, which meant six real world ones. She’d hit twenty-eight herself and knew the others were about to. If they could get through the last twenty or so small patrols who were hidden behind a maze of small stone shacks, then the rest of the team would hit twenty-eight. Snowy sat at her feet, looking back up at her as if to ask why the hell they were still killing these really annoying enemies. He was obviously a bit disgruntled by the whole situation. She couldn’t blame him. Biting undead couldn’t be pleasant.
Casting her debuffs, buffs, and damage spells had become second nature, to such an extent that she reacted now instead of consciously doing it. Right down to no longer needing to knot her fingers together. Summoning the ability with just a thought took far less time and felt more powerful even if it occasionally seemed precarious.
She kept a close eye on both Sinister and Havoc, wanting to know if they had the same progression, but both of them required the use of their spell fingers still. Maybe her mind was more in tune with the system, given how it was intertwined with it. She just didn’t know, which was the root of the problem getting back to her real self. It was all so confusing; she needed time to sit down and examine it.
Last time they’d decided not to clear all around the castle before heading in. She was grateful to Telvar for letting them know how the castle worked. It gave her hope they could clear this, and then head back to Hazenthorne at some stage for a good dose of revenge on that power leeching queen bitch.
Murmur sighed. “You know we can’t even take a break after you all hit your level, right? We need to go inside as a guild and just go for it.”
“Not even a pee break?” Merlin’s tone was plaintive.
Murmur blinked, and stifled a laugh as she released yet another Mez at a fully disgruntled dwarf. She’d never been so grateful for taunt before. “Fine, a pee break, but take turns. We don’t want the castle’s outer rim to respawn.”
Devlish actually shuddered, visibly as his strong lacerta arms swung his axe, partially blocked by his opponent’s sword. “I’m not doing this a second time. We have to make this count. Oh, how we have to make this count.”
He heaved against the blow, grunting as he attempted to riposte the parry. Sweat beaded his brow, glinting against his scales. Murmur marveled at the level of detail, the living and breathing aspects of Somnia.
She glanced around and noticed the one line of the maze they hadn’t actually worked through yet. It was closest to the castle, backing onto it in fact. “We should move toward that long line of small patrols. If we take them one after another, we should get everyone else leveled by the time we reach the entrance.”
“It looks like they’re pointing us in that direction anyway,” Beastial said as they moved onto the next group. “I wish these guys at least dropped something interesting along the way. Right now, all we’re getting is armor remnants and shitty silver swords.”
“Just funnel them through to guild storage.” Murmur shrugged, and tried not to punctuate her yawn with a groan. “At least this killing me with tedium adventure can make Neva happy.”
“You realize what’s going to happen, don’t you?” Havoc asked and continued without waiting for an answer. “We’re going to get in that castle, and the enemies are going to shit on us.”
“Counting on it.” Devlish grinned, and attacked his current target with renewed zeal. “We’re going to go down in a blaze of glory.”
Merlin smacked him on the shoulder. “Don’t go getting ahead of ourselves there. It’s going to take us a bit to get through here. Let’s wait a bit before we decide to go down fighting, okay?”
Even as he spoke the words, Murmur got a sudden feeling of foreboding. She glanced up at the stocky castle and its grey stone ramparts, shadowed by the oncoming clouds. Wind whipped at the dark flags jutting out from the ramparts three stories up, making them seem like tiny, angry symbols of war.
Don’t know how yet...
This time her mother’s voice invaded her mind, and she desperately wanted to wake up and tell them to get out of her room, because apparently they didn’t realize they could be distracting. She lost a couple of seconds in the game world again, and when she re-oriented herself again, realized Merlin had signaled her.
Murmur responded with a thought, immediately freezing the two undead dwarves they wouldn’t be fighting in place in such quick succession it appeared she’d done them both at once, and yet she knew better. She’d activated the spell twice, but the higher her levels, and the more her mental shielding increased, the faster her mind could trigger her spells, unless they had a specified cool down.
