《Legends of Bitworld: A Misnomer's Tale》 Chapter 1 Good Morning Bitworld BITWORLD A Misnomer¡¯s Tale A LitRPG Novel ¡°Hello, and welcome to Bitworld. Our names are One and Zero. People refer to us as Gods. This world is inhabited by adventurers of all different calsses, each with their own path. Your path¡­wait, what was your name again?¡± [¡­GREY¡­] ¡°Grey. That¡¯s a fine name! You are entering our world in a time of peril. We are no longer in possession of the Nine; the Wizard Alleron Con and his legion of glitches have captured them. Soon, we too, will be corrupted. Bitworld in in danger, it is up to you.¡± 011001111000000110110011110000001101100111100000011011001111000000110110011110000001101100111100000011011...Grey..00111100000011011001111000000110110011110000001101100111100000011011001111000000110110011110000001101100111100000011011001111000000110110011110000001101100111100000011011001111000000110110011110000001101100111100000011011001111000000110...help...11001111000000110110011110000001101100111100000011011001111000000110110011110000001101100111100000011011001111000000110110011110000001101100111100000011011...us¡­.00111100000011011001111000000110110011110000001101100111100000011011001111000000110110011110000001101100111100000011011001111000000...we...110110011110000001101100111100000011011001111000000110110011110000001101100111100000011...need...011001111000000110110011110000001101100111100000011... C:\Users\grey>run.\program It is said that all great heroes have one thing in common; they sleep through their first alarm. Grey woke, already standing, in his bedroom. It was a scattering of dirty clothes, half-finished homework, and posters taped across his walls. The nightmare still ringing in his ears, Grey walked over to the poster of his favorite Hero, Bron, and replicated the muscular legend¡¯s stance. He caught his reflection and sighed. The tall mirror across the room revealed a skinny, level zero dweeb in a baggy t-shirt. No screen displaying stats or attributes or skills, just the same familiar reflection; bland hair that never seemed able to decide if it was blonde or brown with too many callucks, and the soft eyes of a dreamer. He turned his face to the side, inspecting his jaw, then returned to the poster of Bron. ¡°Still no cleft chin this morning,¡± he muttered. ¡°I¡¯m no hero.¡± There was a sudden knock on his bedroom door. ¡°Hey Grey,¡± his mother said, walking in. ¡°Oh honey, are you okay? Do you have a fever?¡± ¡°No. Just a bad dream I think.¡± Grey wiped the remaining sweat from his face. ¡°Alright,¡± she said, her voice soothing in the way only a mother¡¯s could be, ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I know it¡¯s a big day, but it¡¯ll be okay. And whatever happens, I¡¯m so proud of you. Whatever it is you choose.¡± Grey¡¯s stomach dropped. He had forgotten all about the field test that day, ¡°Oh yeah¡­Thanks mom.¡± ¡°Now hurry up,¡± she said, smiling. ¡°Don¡¯t want to be late!¡± With that, his sweet mother went downstairs to go do motherly things. The basic blue zip-up hoodie fell over his scrawny shoulders like old drapes; a basic starting off point for any new adventurer. Soon, Grey would trade that zip up for a new suit of armor. Whatever that may be. Whatever path he chose. Soon, like all the kids at Bit Academy, Grey¡¯s adventure would start with the field test. This single day which would decide his class, and therefore, his future. He would soon have his own data screen, fitted with attributes showing his class progression. The trouble was, all of that studying only brought him the sinking suspicion that when the time came, he wouldn¡¯t be able to decide which class to choose. Who was he anyway? A Hero, like Bron? No way. Heroes had courage, very big muscles, and bellowing insecurities. What about an Empath? He cringed at the very idea. That class he¡¯d reserved in his mind for people like Damsel, his tender-hearted best friend. There was also the Rogue, but he wasn¡¯t particularly stealthy. Besides, only assholes like his rival Crow chose that class. And then there was the Wizard class. Gross. The one day at the end of the academy that every student seemed to be so excited for was shaping up to be one of agony for young Grey. There was a knock at the front door. Grey¡¯s mother called out for him at the bottom of the stairs, ¡°Grey, Damsel is here.¡± Grey searched for his small student backpack, stuffing loose papers and books into the bag in no care or order, ¡°Uhh, just a second. I¡¯ll be right down.¡± He gazed at his messy room one last time before exiting, as if when he returned from school that day, he would be a hero, or a rogue, or an empath, or something. Either way, he¡¯d be different. Not some hopeless trainee. He looked to Bron plastered on the wall for any last minute advice; he said nothing. But, his hulking biceps winked at him playfully in a jovial gesture of good measure. Damsel was waiting in the front door, wearing one of her signature outfits, a summer dress with a baseball cap, her hair curling out the back gap there. She beamed up at him, standing on her tip-toes and waved as the young trainee stumbled down the stairs at the sight of her. ¡°Oh,¡± Grey said, holding onto the stairwell railing for support as his toe caught on the stair, trying to jump steps (in a rush, as always), ¡°Hey, um, Damsel!¡± ¡°Hey you,¡± she said back, steadying him as he nearly ran into her. ¡°You finally ready? We¡¯re going to be late again!¡± ¡°Yeah, yeah, sorry. I¡¯m all set.¡± Grey¡¯s mother called from the kitchen, ¡°Umm, excuse me, mister. Aren¡¯t you forgetting something?¡± ¡°Ugh,¡± Grey walked back to the kitchen and kissed his mother on the cheek.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. ¡°That¡¯s better,¡± she said, before putting her hands on his shoulders, and touching her forehead to his. ¡°And what else?¡± Grey sighed. He held tight to the straps of his backpack, and, stealing a sideways glance at Damsel who had already stuck her nose in her book, whispered; ¡°Be careful, and come straight home, I know, mom, I¡¯m not twelve anymore.¡± ¡°I know, you¡¯re growing up so fast.¡± She stepped back and smiled at her son. ¡°I guess I forget sometimes.¡± ¡°Moooommmm,¡± he groaned. ¡°Sorry. Look, Grey. Fourteen or not, still be careful okay? Just yesterday Crow¡¯s¡­¡± ¡°I hate him, he¡¯s always so mean.¡± ¡°Be that as it may, his parents are good friends, and as you know, his mother is a bit of a gossiper, and well, just yesterday she told me that she heard from her cousin who heard from the florist who heard from the...I forget, but that¡¯s not important. What¡¯s important is that the smoke we¡¯ve been seeing over the mountains were made by a dragon.¡± Shuddering as she finished the word dragon, she looked off with a sense of terrified wariness in her eyes. ¡°Just head straight home, okay? I can¡¯t lose you too.¡± ¡°Grey!¡± called Damsel to the rescue. ¡°Are you alright, mom?¡± She nodded, wrapped her arms tight around herself, and just stood there, looking out the window for a moment. Finally, she wiped her cheek, forced a smile, and ruffled her son¡¯s hair. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about me, just go out and do your best!¡± Grey tried fixing his hair, to no avail, and scrunched his face. ¡°Well, all right. You¡¯re weird sometimes mom.¡± He turned toward Damsel, then paused, something clenching in his gut and looked at his mother. ¡°Hey, if you want to play that, um, silly board game you like later we could.¡± ¡°Thanks honey.¡± A warmth swept over her soft face then, and Grey felt good about that. He hated seeing his mom sad. He whispered; ¡°I love you,¡± one last time, then ran to Damsel. ¡°Good luck you two!¡± the kind widow called. ¡°Thanks!¡± Damsel waved to Grey¡¯s mother and skipped out of the entryway. The two started on their way to school. It was a short walk through their village and a few other neighboring villages along the way. The school sat atop a massive hill. It could be seen from almost everywhere in BITworld. An impressive structure boasting architecture that could be seen from miles away. An elite institution that had been the starting place for seemingly every great hero in BITworld. Damsel felt lucky to be in that elite company. Grey, wore that pressure like steel plated armor that was three sizes too big. ¡°Alright Grey, today¡¯s the big day.¡± Damsel jumped a few steps in front of Grey as they walked, facing him, ¡°Soo...what¡¯re you gonna choose?¡± Of course he had been deflecting the question for months, years even, ¡°I don¡¯t know. Guess I¡¯ll let the test tell me, you know? Isn¡¯t that kinda the point?¡± Her excitement faded into a sort of pity. Grey loved that, ¡°Well, yeah. I mean I guess. But most people usually know already what they want to choose.¡± Seeing the anxiety dragging Grey¡¯s face down to his shoes, ¡°Look. Grey. It¡¯s okay! I¡¯m sure it will work itself out, you know? I believe in you.¡± Grey smiled. Appreciating the social awareness shown by his best friend. Damsel had that way about her; knowing more about what he was feeling better than he did himself. He was envious in that way about her. With their small village behind them, Damsel and Grey took their usual shortcut through the Illustrious Forest. He pulled aside the drapery of low hanging vines and gestured for his friend to go first; ¡°Oh, Grey,¡± she chuckled, ¡°you know you¡¯re safe here if you¡¯re with me. I let them know we were coming. Silly.¡± He shrugged and shook his head. With her typical cute giggle, she held the top of her hat, ducked, and walked under the parted vines into the forest. Grey followed suit. Inside was a mass of dense green and vibrant flowers. Small wildlife ran about and tiny fairies could be heard rushing between the branches with their glimmering bodies like sweet bells in the distance. Grey eyed them carefully, and stayed as close to his best friend as possible. It was well-known that Fairies were gorgeous little creatures, but like anything beautiful, complete assholes to Grey and pretty much anyone that wasn¡¯t Damsel (they left her alone, partially out of fear). But, because of its seclusion, the pair often thought it their own little paradise, an escape from the rest of the world. A thin walking trail had been blazed through it in a quest years ago and the two had used the trail to make it to school faster ever since. ¡°Don¡¯t you just love it here?¡± she asked, putting out her hand for one of the little forest sprites to land on. She kissed its beak, and it flew off. ¡°We could build a home here someday, I bet. I mean¡­¡± ¡°What?¡± he asked, rubbing his ears, unsure if he¡¯d just imagined that. ¡°Haha, oh nothing,¡± she said, ¡°come on!¡± Winding this way and that way, the two walked through the forest. The level ground gradually rose into a craggy hill and the trees became sparser, the floor replaced by high rising beds of flowers intermixed with large boulders that only occasionally were dangerous, and only when the moon was full. They scrambled over the slumped backs and heads, and with each one, Damsel patted the surface and cheerfully said; ¡°Sorry, Stumplemut. Sorry Phlemgerd.¡± ¡°Can they really hear you?¡± Grey asked, jumping from one head to the other. ¡°No, but I can feel them even when they¡¯re asleep.¡± She smirked. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t jump on them if I were you.¡± Grey gulped, and they hurried on, climbing the ever steepening hill to the campus grounds which laid on the plateau. Its grounds st across the Illustrious Forest, and even the lifeless terrain of the Rover Desert. In one of the towers of the east side of the academy, a massive iron bell bounced the weighted core around its insides, signaling the start of first class. ¡°Alright, Grey, this is it.¡± Damsel clutched her belongings close to her chest, taking a deep breath in as her eyes gleamed in eagerness, ¡°I¡¯ll see you after the field test, okay?¡± She jumped onto Grey with her arms outstretched, hugging him as he nervously reciprocated, ¡°See ya, Grey!¡± Not even getting a word out, Grey smiled bashfully and waved to her as she skipped along. Taking in his own massive breath of air, he shakily blew it out. There was no getting around the field test. Luckily for him, the test took place at the end of school. He had all day in his other three classes to dwell on it in preparation. The halls were packed with eager students. Grey stood at his locker, fiddling with the numbered lock with his clammy hands. Amongst the dull roar around him, the whisper of footsteps from tall, black leather boots smacked on the linoleum floor. The wearer of them was a tall, hooded student with a black leather jacket, and even blacker hair that covered his face in such a macabre fashion that it¡¯d come as no surprise to anyone that he was the school¡¯s Rogue prodigy (his Angst regeneration ability unparalleled). All of the students watched as he passed in the hall. The boys; intimidated. The girls; swooning. His hands rested in his pockets, while his eyes surveyed only the tips of his footsteps. Standing at his locker, Grey felt the heavy shoulder of the much taller student bump into him. He fell into the open door of his locker as the boy looked back at Grey, giving a menacing glance through the one eye not concealed by his straightened black hair. Passing so close to Grey, he could hear the music playing through the tiny earbuds the boy wore. A banging of instrumental metal carnage. ¡°Asshole,¡± Grey whispered under his breath, gathering himself at the foot of his open locker. He fumbled around the heavy textbooks; a shadow looming over him. Grey could suddenly hear the monotonous thumping from Lars Ulrich¡¯s kick drum sounding behind him again. He turned slowly. The shadow revealed itself as a nightmare. ¡°Um,¡± Grey said. The boy brushed his bangs to the side and glared at Grey; a well of darkness that followed the trail of his gaze sent a shudder up Grey¡¯s back. ¡°Um?¡± he said again. The boy cracked half a smile, sending a short puff of air through his narrow nostrils in a demeaning tone, and scoffed; ¡°You¡¯re such a fucking noob,¡± then he walked away. It was Crow. He was in many of the same classes as Grey, but it was tough for him to consider Crow a ¡®peer.¡¯ He had seemingly grown up with the mysterious boy, but always kept his distance. There was something off about him. Rumors spread here and there about Crow, and Grey chose to believe all of them. Some of the students would say he conjured dark magic outside of class. Sacrificing small creatures to Beelzebub and whatnot. Whatever it was, Damsel once admitted to Grey she thought he was cute, and that was reason enough to hate him. Grey shook his head, and rummaging through the papers in his locker, checked to make sure his rival was out of sight, then cursed quietly. ¡°I don¡¯t care if he is a prodigy, he¡¯s still an asshole. I don¡¯t know what she even sees in him; anyone with an hour and a hair straightener could look like that.¡± He unconsciously licked his hand and tried pushing his own hair down, but it just shot back up. ¡°Okay, maybe it¡¯d take two hours.¡± That massive bell tower did its job once again. The massive gong sound reverberated through the halls, vibrating under the desks and feet of the soon to be adventurers. Scared by the sound he had waited an entire hour for, Grey snapped his pencil in half. Perhaps he was stronger than he thought. Driven by fear. His hands shook as he fitted his tortured notepad into his bag. Pushing his chair in slowly to somehow delay the fact that the field test was right there in front of him. The teacher gave some last words of advice, ¡°Alright guys, it¡¯s field test time. When we see you tomorrow, you will all have a class. Remember, this is just the beginning of the. Rest. Of. Your. Lives.¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± Grey muttered under his breath, ¡°no big deal.¡± It somehow didn¡¯t ease any of the tension in Grey. The words echoed and bounced around his nervous mind. Rattling whatever room wasn¡¯t taken up by the flutterbees dancing around his stomach. Field tests were being held in the simulation/training room. He waited in line with the other students. While they all conversed like it was just another day, Grey stood amongst them. Nervously biting his nails. Letting other students cut in front of him as the entrance reached ever closer to his place in line. There was no sign of Damsel, she must of been one of the first in line. Eager to complete what she had been training for. Only a few students remained in the line of nervousness as Grey reached the entrance, the others were the usual sorts of outcasts he expected to be clumped with: Ingred, she famously sat alone at lunch and casted spells on the other girls she hated; Alastar, he was about as terrifying a troll as any but really was just a big softy; Stephen, well, Stephen¡¯s father was a fire-swallowing ghoul and his mother was a 3000 pound Land Fairy, so mostly people just felt bad for him; and Grey himself. His mother told him stories of his father and their elite group of heroes they were surrounded by awaiting their field test. Chatting about how they would crush the test, and then scores of enemies in the levels they would charge towards afterwards. Grey looked around to his peers at the back of the line. Was this his elite group? Was this Grey¡¯s destiny? The First Test 2. Inside the room of dancing shadows a walkway was lined by candles that hovered in mid-air on silver pans where wax had melted over; their flames flicking. Tentatively, Grey walked across the craggy stones and took a deep breath as the too-big simulations robe all the kids had to wear dragged behind him. In his hand he held a small breathing mask and before him he saw the emerald stone steps that lead up to a wide circular pool, its surface a faint turquoise colored stone. He clenched his jaw. He¡¯d never seen the pool before, that wasn¡¯t allowed (the ceremony was sacred) and yet, he had seen it several times in his nightmares, the haunting of his future. He approached the first step and warily looked to his left where the simulations master, a hunched Rodentian with a long furry snout and twitchy whiskers, extended his clawed hand. Between his long fingers he held a mushroom, which had a tall and twisted stem with a wide cap of several overly saturated colors. ¡°This mushroom I offer you, Grey son of Therena, has been blessed by the Westward Druidic Elves¡± the Rodentian said, ¡°take it and open your present to the reading of your past and the door to your future.¡± Grey stared at it warily. His hands were clammy and he felt like he didn¡¯t much like the idea of eating anything that might force him to see the few glimpses his subconscious never let fade. ¡°It¡¯s really not that bad,¡± the Rodentian whispered, leaning so close his whiskers grazed Grey¡¯s head, ¡°I just have to say it that way, the principal is very particular about delivering the ritual words correctly.¡± Grey stood silent, that made sense. He gathered together his courage, reached out, and popped the mushroom in his mouth. His face puckered as he chewed it over, and the simulations master sniggered. ¡°Wash it down with this,¡± he said, offering a goblet of a bright orange beverage. Finishing the first introductory to the test, the young man ascended the emerald stairs to the top of the pool and looked into the water. He fit the breathing device as he¡¯d been trained to do. The little mechanism felt like someone had just stuck a piece of tape at the corners of his mouth, then it expanded over his lips and nostrils, and a moment later it felt like nothing was there at all. He awkwardly slid off the robe, undressing himself down to his boxers, stole one last glance at the rat-faced man who nodded encouragingly, and walked into the deep pool. It was a strange cold that seemed to seep into his pores the further he went, and in the middle, it was too deep to stand, but the water was a mixture of magic and solvents that allowed him to float. He¡¯d been told the drill for this, all kids had, and seeing as there was no going back now, he let himself float on his back. And a moment later, he heard the sound of a large slab of granite sliding across the rim of the pool. He took a deep breath through his nose, and then everything was black. He waited, trying to meditate, but despite all the advice and tips his mother and Damsel had provided, something about keeping his thoughts still just never clicked. He closed his eyes tight, that was supposed to help. And this time it did. Suddenly, a wave crashed over his consciousness; his body thrashed in natural response, then relaxed, and floating there he was pushed into his mind where the simulation took place. He stood before an endless and dense valley of towering grass that swayed back and forth like seaweed in the depths of the Caltretta Ocean. They were awash of luminescent purples, golds, and blues that seemed to stream fluidly back and forth. Above the valley was a mix of blackness with very small lines of green text, all ones and zeroes. What did that mean, he wondered as curiously as ever; was the mind somehow linked to the Gods or were the numbers something else entirely? Unnerved, he turned and looked behind him, but there was nothing but a dark nothingness. ¡°I can do this.¡± The tall grass parted easily, and he saw it glow in response to his touch as he trekked forward. The journey through felt long, and as he went he could hear an unnerving sound like the magic of electricity all around him; a faint drone that rose in volume, pulsed in golden light throughout each blade of grass, then faded. Although he knew this meant his mind had opened and the pools magic was rewiring the neurons in order to allow what was well-known in Bitworld as the Hero¡¯s Eye (enlightened ability to see what were known as stats, skills, experience, prompts, and a nearly limitless capacity to hold items) it didn¡¯t make it any less uncomfortable. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he approached a rounded hill with a flat front where a circular and engraved stone door was propped. Grey looked over his shoulder, got scolded by the magical pulse waves, sighed, and assessed the structure before him. He looked for a handle of some sort, but there was none. He attempted tracing his fingers along the engravings in several different directions, but nothing happened. Groaning, he searched for any cracks. ¡°Maybe I just have to rearrange something,¡± he said, trying to find a crack or some part of the stone he could move aside, but any cracks there didn¡¯t do anything except, be cracks. ¡°Or maybe not.¡± Groaning, he wondered what he was supposed to do. He¡¯d heard that tests were different for everyone, but he¡¯d also heard that he should be prepared for any puzzles; but if there was a puzzle, he asked himself, what the hell was it?! He knew he wasn¡¯t as smart as Damsel or anything, but he wasn¡¯t stupid. There¡¯d only been a few puzzles he¡¯d ever come across he couldn¡¯t solve. He glared at the door. ¡°Most puzzles at least know they¡¯re puzzles!¡± he yelled, kicking the stone in frustration. Its material instantly dissolved into bright blue particles and he staggered back. ¡°What the. . .¡± The way was open, and through it, the scent of rot and mildew came. He tried to waft it away. When the stench subsided, Grey walked past the dusty cloud of filth and into the tomb. An intricate smattering of hallways, lit by small flickering flames bouncing off white bones lining the walls. It was the first step. Grey tentatively walked down the first hallway, awaiting for whatever unholy beast would come around the bend. There was nothing at first. Just an ominous bellowing of the tombs belly. A weak puff of wind blew, dust swirled, and Grey walked in suspense and terror for the test to begin. Every corridor he walked through looked exactly the same. It was impossible to get his bearings. Left, right, straight, no left; he had no sense of direction. The test was offering him no way of knowing where to go next, until he ultimately reached a dead end. A small room with walls on all sides lined in infinite corpses. He looked around in nervous wonder, wondering if he¡¯d taken a wrong turn or if there was some other corridor in the cave where he stood. He searched, and turned toward where he¡¯d come and had no choice but to return that same way. Perhaps take different directions. Right, left, left, no it was a right last time, it was hopeless. The hallways were constant. There was no map or objective marker for him to follow, he was essentially walking blind. Suspense grew within him, but there was no time to cower in fear, he had to trek on. Wait for something in the test to reveal itself. The bones along the walls became more dense as he walked. The bellowing became louder. Grey¡¯s fists trembled in fear. There were no weapons around him, or offered to him in the beginning. He reached towards one of the thousands of bones on the wall to perhaps fashion it into some dead sword. Pulling at the skeletal arm, it didn¡¯t budge. Suddenly, the hand wrapped around his forearm. He tried to jump back, but the arm pulled him closer to the wall. Screaming and kicking, the other bones rose from their walled tomb. He yanked his arm until the petrified death finally snapped off; leaving a bony hand dangling on him as he ran. Not sure of where to run, the walls tumbled down and chased him into one direction. Down a hallway to the left. And then the right. Grey¡¯s lungs were full of dust but he ran and ran until the halls opened into a great room. It was pitch black. The death lit hallway behind him crumbled into rumble and sealed behind him. There was nowhere to go. He looked ahead into the deep cavernous belly that awaited him. Light began to crawl up the sides of the damp walls, revealing another horrendous tomb. Slowly, more began populating on the walls, at first sparse, but with each passing second they multiplied. He clenched his fists, and spun as a great howl echoed throughout. He searched for the sound, and staggered back as he saw, rising from a giant throne made of skulls, a skeleton with the skull of a ram, except the horns encircled its entire head like a crown. It brandished a large sword that erupted into flames. ¡°How dare you enter my kingdom,¡± it said in a harrowing voice. The sound traveled throughout, echoing, and as it reverberated off each of the catacomb walls, ghastly luminescent cracks splintered across the tombs. ¡°Die, boy.¡± Grey searched frantically for any weapon, cursing the Gods. He ran his hands, scouring across the ground as strange skeletal creatures, not man, not elf, not even orc, but something far more sinister and hideous, sifted through their tombs and swept across the dank floor toward him. Having no weapon, and nothing even so much as an incantation that came to mind, he planted his feet, twisted at the waist, and kicked one of them in its ribcage. Another three, (or was it four?) grabbed him by the shoulders. He drove his elbow back, and kicked as they dragged him toward the front to their king. Grey pressed his feet into the ground as hard as he could, and pushed off the floor with as much strength. With his captors, he fell on his back. They burst into dust, he rolled off, and found something that resembled a bony foot. It wasn¡¯t much but it¡¯d do. He leapt at the nearest skeletal beast with the foot raised overhead. As he swung downward, he felt a burst of power and a vibration around his hand. The room erupted in light, and by the time he¡¯d struck his foe with the foot, he realized, the makeshift weapon had transformed, and in his hand was a great broadsword.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. He could feel the satisfying weight in his hand. The skeletal enemies continued with full force, he swung the great sword and cut through the bones effortlessly with the sharp blade. Steel zinged and clashed as Grey swung the powerful weapon. Defeated enemies lined the damp floor with their dusty residue. Grey felt something within he had never felt before; standing with that great sword, his enemies lie in fear below him, he stood powerful. Staring up at the great beast towering over him, Grey reared the sword back, ready for the next test. ¡°A sword!?¡± Mockingly, the beast¡¯s voice boomed and echoed off the walls, ¡°You useless bundles of bones¡­ He¡¯s mine.¡± Grey prepared in a sideways stance, ready for whatever was going to be thrown at him. The massive ram beast reared his head back as if to charge, and hellfire spewed from the horns atop his skull. Grey jumped and weaved and dodged as best he could, missing most of the liquid rage. Some of it splashing and stinging his armor-less skin. The sword was useless against such attacks. He looked for an opening, but the liquid fire reigned down too heavily for him to get a jump on the beast. Relentlessly, the attacks continued. Bounding from rock to rock, opening to opening, Grey¡¯s legs felt powerful beneath him, but his stamina was fleeting. The massive broadsword was heavy and he didn¡¯t know how long he could keep up the ballerina act around the flames. Fire crashed down. He jumped. ¡°You useless little boy! There¡¯s nowhere to run. You will be swallowed whole by flames.¡± The beast laughed as he reared his head back. Grey leaped onto another rock, but seared his shoes raw as he landed. The rock was so hot it burned his useless sneakers down to the soles and his feet seared on that hot rock. Falling to his back, he looked up at the beast. There was nothing left in the way of his enemy. The sword fell next to him, his legs were exhausted, and the beast reared up for his final attack. ¡°Now... You¡¯re mine.¡± The beast delivered a final blow. His horns spawned a hideous spark of fire that erupted into a concentrated ball of hell. Yelling, smoke erupted through his ram snout and he thrusted his head forward, sending the attack towards Grey. As if time slowed down, the massive ball of hellfire was hurled towards him. He was defenseless. Heat escalated into an unbearable degree as the fire soared closer. One last battle cry, Grey screamed out, closing his eyes, ¡°Ahhhh!¡± He put his arm up to shield his eyes from the blinding light. His arms suddenly felt heavy. Powerful. Fire surrounded his small body, but somehow he wasn¡¯t dead. He opened his eyes. The hellfire draped around him like some evil waterfall. A magnificent shield glowed and sparked a beautiful gold hue, protecting him from the attack. It appeared just as the sword did. Without thinking, Grey stood up, and pushed against the shield with the entirety of his body. The beast looked in terror as the young boy fought gallantly against his final blow. The two walked towards each other in a great bout of will. Grey instinctually clasped his sword against the shield, sending the hellfire back from whence it came. The sound of metal and fire exploded throughout the tomb. Sending the bones and dusts flying into a great tornado around them, and the ram beast onto his back. Smoke rose from the hundreds of openings in the beast¡¯s skeletal body. His exposed heart was black, pulsing behind his smoking rib cage. ¡°No. No! It can¡¯t be.¡± The beast lay on his back, facing young Grey just 20 feet away from him, who stood with his powerful weapons in hand. Grey rushed towards the beast. Leaping off of a rock with his singed feet, high into the air, he plunged the broadsword straight into the exposed heart of his foe. The bones from its ribcage splintered like twigs around the powerful sword. Just as his sword made its final blow, it disappeared from his hand. Then the shield. The slain beast dissipated and evaporated from the cavernous tomb, and the piles of bones followed suit. Grey stood in the cave. Alone. The walls tumbled down in fits of code and emanated in ones and zeroes. The numbers fell, until becoming completely white. Grey stood, eager. Massive letters appeared in front of him. Congratulations, HERO Finally. Grey leaned over with hands resting on his knees, still feeling the effects of the bout. He was relieved. The test was over. His Hero Vision was revealed. It was even worse than he originally thought, but, it was over. Grey awaited his next prompt, just as he had read about in his BITtextbooks, but something strange was happening. The prompt. Letters began to flicker. A sort of static animation. Congalons ERO He narrowed his eyes as the static echoed in his ears and the display before him shifted again.
Congratulations Hero You have attained the class of ¡­.. Rog000110ue¡­ ¡­ Congrat010111. . .W1z0rd ...err01¡­ Message Error: Misnomer...does not compute...01001011 01100101 01111001
¡°What the hell?¡± he whispered, confused. The vision shifted and blurred and after a long run of zeroes and ones another prompt appeared, this one just as exhausting as the first.
Name: Grey Age: 15 Race: Human Class: 01001011 01100101 01111001 Level: 01 Reputation: Level 01 Health: 100/100 Khem: 100/100 Stamina: 100 Strength: 13 Attack: 11 Defense: 13 Constitution: 10 Dexterity: 10 Intelligence: 11 Charisma: 04 (try making new friends?) Abilities: Deus Ex Machina Inspect Skills: Slash Shield Bash {Empty Slot} {Empty Slot}
He squinted at the superimposed screen for a moment, focusing on the ancient languages of ones and zeroes where there should¡¯ve been a class, then lower at the three corrupted words for source energy: mana, fury, anxt. That was weird, classes only had one. What¡¯s happening?, he wondered, standing in bewilderment. His Hero Vision then became a blur of static, then disappeared, and the room itself glitched around him. It fell a still white, empty; he felt a presence there, lurking in the room. It just did not reveal itself. Suddenly, a gut-wrenching scream erupted out in front of him, he clasped his hands over his ears in shock. He yelled, but could not hear the sound of his voice over the ear-stinging wrench of the scream. And then, nothing. Grey rose from the water of that shallow pool. Splashing as he frantically wiped the water off of his face. He was out of breath. He felt around his body, panicked, but ultimately realized it was all in his mind. The simulation was over. Putting his arms out on the pool walls for balance, Grey caught his breath and counted his good graces from the Gods for his well-being. Whatever that test was, it was more sinister, powerful, than anything he had ever trained for. The Rodentian Professor ran into the room. His whiskers bounced as he approached young Grey at the surface of the turquoise pool. ¡°Son, are you alright?¡± He wrapped a warm cloak around his shoulders. Grey was a mixture of terror, joy, and most of all, confusion. ¡°Yeah. I mean, I think so. Did I pass the test?¡± ¡°Grey,¡± The Rodentian professor was shadowed by the other professors at the entrance of the small room. All standing over the door which was crumbled into a thousand pieces, ¡°we lost you. There was no way to observe from out here.¡± ¡°So I didn¡¯t pass?¡± he sighed. That would¡¯ve clarified the glitches. ¡°You don¡¯t understand. I don¡¯t know what happened in there, but whatever it was, it was not controlled by us. You have to believe us. Please. We wouldn¡¯t put you through something like that willingly.¡± Grey looked at the dancing whiskers on the professor¡¯s face and the magic that rose from the other professors¡¯ spell-drawn staffs and respected weapons. ¡°So that wasn¡¯t the test? What was it?¡± ¡°Whatever it was, it took over as soon as you went into the pool. It had control. But, the good news is you defeated whatever was in there.¡± ¡°So I did pass the test?¡± ¡°Damnit Grey, are you listening to me!?¡± The professor grew frustrated and his snout twitched in an unfriendly manner, ¡°Yes, you passed the test, but you¡¯re in danger. Whatever that was, we had no control over it. A powerful force held the door and we had to cast our way through. Grey¡­¡± The professor stopped. Unsure of what to say next to the new classless adventurer. Finally understanding the fear that lay across the professors faces, Grey¡¯s heart sank into his stomach. His feet were hot. Still seared by the apparently real hellfire that was in the ¡®simulation¡¯, ¡°So, the weapons. I have you guys to thank for that?¡± All four, including the Rodentian Professor, looked perplexed, ¡°What weapons? Did they appear in the simulation, Grey?¡± The professor was eager for answers, Grey responded, ¡°Yeah. I mean, I think? They just kind of fell into my hands. And I, like, felt really powerful. Not, I guess, normal.¡± The Rodentian professor grabbed the newly appointed adventurer by the shoulders, and smiled a wide snarl tooth grin, ¡°Grey. I don¡¯t know who, but someone is looking out for you. I guess there is some good news in this after all. Now, I have to ask, what class did the Test pick for you? If it was a sword and shield, I¡¯d speculate Hero.¡± ¡°Um,¡± Grey stammered, unsure of how to respond and far too terrified to formulate a proper explanation to what he himself didn¡¯t have any clue about. ¡°I guess?¡± ¡°Hmmm,¡± the professor said, stroking his chin where the fur hung with a cocked eyebrow. ¡°You are dismissed, Grey. But, be careful.¡± With the long cloak given by the professor dragging behind him like a gown, Grey left the simulation room. Walking over the rubble of the tomb door that apparently sealed him in. The professors stood terrified, letting the teenager pass with a safe distance between them. Grey was unsure of the evil surrounding his field test. He had imagined that very day, passing his field test, for years. All with different outcomes: some triumphant, some not so well, and some flat-out embarrassing. But, never like what he had just experienced. All he knew in that moment, drenched by the wet terror from that turquoise pool, was that Grey wanted to see Damsel. And tell his friend about the field test. Rude Awakening 3. Damsel stood outside one of the grand structures of the academy, waiting for Grey. The clouds up above darkened by the minute, there was a dark aura ahead, Damsel could feel it. She watched Grey as he walked out from the massive wooden doors encasing the Training Wing of the school. Still wrapped in that cloak, his body was dry, but he shook with nervousness. Grey contemplated what he should reveal to Damsel. Perhaps he was in trouble? If he was, he wouldn¡¯t want to burden his closest friend with it. ¡°Grey!¡± Damsel called out, running eagerly towards him, ¡°Grey. How¡¯d it go? You were awesome, huh? I knew it! Damsel tugged at the cloak Grey had wrapped around him, ¡°You still wearing that thing?¡± ¡°Oh, yeah, oops.¡± ¡°So...are you going to tell me how it went?¡± Damsel was too excited to see how Grey was feeling. He had no idea what to say; what to reveal, ¡°You go first. You were awesome. Obviously.¡± ¡°Yeah, I mean, just like we trained for, right?¡± she asked, then put her hand on his shoulder. ¡°Right?¡± ¡°Well, I don¡¯t know. Some of it was, I guess.¡± ¡°What? You¡¯re being weird, Grey. Show me your Bitvision, I want to see what class you got!¡± ¡°Well,¡± Grey looked around them; the well-manicured courtyard of statues, lawn, and fountains was a mass of second years, all of them already forming parties with one another, swiping their hands over the air to display their own bitvisions. He shook his head. ¡°Invite me to your party and I think, um, I¡¯ll show you, but not here.¡± ¡°Why are you being so cryptic? It¡¯s not like anyone can see, you don¡¯t have to be embarrassed.¡± But Grey had already started moving toward the academy¡¯s doors. She followed quickly behind as he thrust them open. They passed through the hallway between the courtyard and the front lawn of floral beds and paths which forked into several different directions, main roads and side roads most of them, and as they shouldered past several other students who had already met their parents outside, he found himself looking up into the sky. He cringed. Something seemed to happen there, he swore it. Toward the left of his peripheral the clouds had glitched, a splotch of green ones and zeroes. He felt his jaw clench, and despite his dislike for the Illustrious forest, he gestured toward it. ¡°In here.¡± Grey continued into the forest and Damsel followed suit. ¡°Alright Grey, this is ridiculous, just show me.¡± They were well into the forest, but still he looked over his shoulder, past the entanglement of hanging vines and tall assortment of foliage. ¡°There¡¯s no one here Grey,¡± said Damsel. ¡°Remember? This is our safe place.¡± Reluctant, but ultimately giving in, Grey knew he could trust Damsel with his new secret. He pulled her over toward a large log and sat her down. With shaky hands, he motioned in the air in front of him, a wall of stats and attributes fell in front of the two. At first glance, the wall looked normal: Name, level, Reputation. Grey was waiting for Damsel to freak out, instead, she furrowed her brow, ¡°Wait a second. What class did you get? I can¡¯t see it. It¡¯s just a bunch of ancient script.¡± She muttered to herself trying to translate what she knew from her studies of the ancient language, ¡°What is this Grey?¡± He took a deep breath, scratched his head, and stared with a dismal emptiness at the vision. Then noticed the tabs near the top of the display; one of them was a faint glow. He rose his finger to sweep over to it and chuckled half-heartedly. Damsel had been one step ahead of him. ¡°Did you. . .¡± she said, shaking her head. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you already open this?¡± Grey just stared absently, as the Info gave way to the Items screen. Together, sitting side by side, the party inspected what showed before them. It was a prompt.
You have received: One-Handed Bone Sword Damage: + 6-8 Durability: 4/4 Item Class: Uncommon Forgery: The Undead Quality: Above Average Weight: 1.9
You have received: Shield of the Misnomer This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it Cost: Cannot be sold or traded Defense: + 21-25 Durability: 13/13 Item Class: Rare (well, this wasn¡¯t supposed to happen) Forgery: Hero Subconscious Quality: Well-made Weight: 4.7 Properties ? +7% chance to counter ? +10% resistance to fire damage Ability: Loyalist: Shield of the Misnomer¡¯s stats increase with the Hero¡¯s level.
Damsel nearly fell off her seat, but caught herself and with her finger to the vision, traced its information again. ¡°You. . .have you seen this? Grey! That is so awesome. No one ever gets items in their field test, especially not a rare one.¡± She paused, holding her finger on the shield. Then bit her lip. ¡°That¡¯s so weird.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°I got an A+ in our Item Studies class, but I¡¯ve never heard of Shield of the Misnomer. Wow, I guess there¡¯s always something new to learn, huh?¡± She glanced over at Grey, and recoiled, putting her hand to her heart. ¡°Grey?¡± ¡°That wasn¡¯t learning,¡± he muttered to himself. ¡°And it wasn¡¯t a field test, Damsel, it was something. . .¡± ¡°Something as in?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know. It was just. . .off.¡± ¡°Off how?¡± ¡°Off, like, it wasn¡¯t really a test. Something was in there with me.¡± ¡°Are you sure? Really, it¡¯s just a battle scenario.¡± He shook his head. ¡°Something in there really wanted me dead,¡± then motioned towards his feet; his shoes like two barbequed kebabs. Damsel wrapped her hand around her mouth, ¡°For the love of the Gods. What happened to your feet?¡± ¡°That¡¯s what I¡¯m saying! It wasn¡¯t fake. The Professors told me they had no control over the test. That something else had control. They had to break me out of there, Damsel.¡± Grey finally felt the weight of the scenario and dropped his head in his hands; confusion settled into fear settling into panic. ¡°Okay. Okay. Let¡¯s think about this.¡± Damsel exited out of their Vision displays, ¡°Who would want you dead? And why did no one else go through this? Is there something you¡¯re not telling me, Grey.¡± ¡°No! Really, I swear, I have no idea what¡¯s happening.¡± Grey reached his hand out to grab Damsel¡¯s. They stood there, still, in the Illustrious Forest, the trees hanging over head and all around them, a blanket of protection, ¡°You have to believe me.¡± She stood, canvassing Grey with a steely gaze, ¡°Alright. I know you wouldn¡¯t lie to me. But, we need answers. I¡¯m sure our parents can tell us more.¡± The two newly appointed adventurers walked back home through the Illustrious Forest. It was dark, save for the luminescent blue glow of the flora. Smatterings of delicate chirps and whistles sounded from the trees and tiny creatures frolicked across the path in front of them. Hardly speaking a word to each other, Grey and Damsel pondered along the way of the magical forest. Grey looked at Damsel every few steps, trying to meet her gaze. She was silent. Pondering Grey¡¯s Bitvision he could only imagine. He couldn¡¯t. He only wanted to know what Damsel was thinking. Whatever was happening to him, he knew he needed her by his side. Opening the mysterious clutches of its low hanging branches, the Forest released the two young travelers onto the path back home. There was a crack in the sky. The clouds erupted with electricity, but rain did not follow. A powerful tornado of winds danced in the sky like violent ballet. The skies were dark, but a red hue hung in the distance. They turned to one another. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± Damsel asked, clutching onto Grey¡¯s shirtsleeve. He stared studiously over the dense trees, into the amber sky. ¡°I don¡¯t know, but it¡¯s coming from town.¡± A great sound ruptured the world, and a horrendous gale was carried on it. A massive flock of birds screeched and escaped their placed in one huge speckled cloud, only to be hurled erratically. Fairies screamed and cursed, as the wind crashed through their home, stealing them from safety. It was like a stampede and all in its path was affected. Grey¡¯s eyes darted in search of cover as some hundred yards away he could see branches breaking, hurled into other trees which were coming uprooted. He scanned left then right as Damsel stood, frozen and sobbing. He grabbed her hand as a whirlwind wall of leaves rushed toward them, devastating the forest in its way. Finally, only a few feet away, he found a huge troll that was on one knee and bent over as if it had fallen asleep amidst some very deep thoughts. It would have to do. Grey tugged hard on Damsel, but she didn¡¯t move. ¡°Come on,¡± he said. ¡°I. . .¡± It was too late. The wall of wind broke over the world before them, and although some of the more sturdy trees did not fall, a splinter raced up one and its contents exploded. One large branch cracked and fell. Grey tackled Damsel to the side just as it landed where they¡¯d been. The tree, however, followed suit. Instinctively, he turned his back over her and held his arm over their heads. The tree crashed. Simultaneously, he felt a surge of power and a giant weight on his forearm. He screamed in pain. And the next second the weight was gone. All around them was a smattering of bark and wood, and in his hand he noticed the shield had once again come to his aid. He didn¡¯t know whether he had consciously equipped it or if it had just happened, but it didn¡¯t matter then. He took Damsel¡¯s shoulder in his hand, and tried to navigate her coiled body to look at her face. But she was sobbing into her hands. ¡°Gods help us,¡± she cried. ¡°Something¡¯s wrong, Grey.¡± Slowly, he stood to his feet and peered about them, holding onto his pained forearm. Their safe haven, the Illustrious Forest, had been devastated. Broken trees everywhere, upturned trolls, who¡¯d likely wake up very confused about why their arm was ten feet away, homes of fairies totally destroyed, and, he looked back up into the burning sky of ash and red. It glitched again. She was right, something was very wrong. And then, in the right of his peripheral he saw another prompt.
You¡¯ve been struck by a large tree. You blocked the tree¡¯s attack. Tree does physical nature damage. You¡¯ve lost 21 HP to the tree. The Tree broke at the might of your shield. Congratulations, you defeated the inanimate object!
Shortly into his Hero¡¯s journey Grey had slain two mighty beasts. Well, one mighty beast. The wood laid across the forest¡¯s edge; a crumbled dock leading to the rest of the world. The two stepped over the fallen tree, Damsel¡¯s eyes swollen with tears. Together they navigated through the ravaged forest. Destruction lie in wake underneath the broken sky and a desolate wasteland was scattered around them as if some unspeakable hell had ransacked the glorious lands of Bitworld. Fire crawled up the skyline ahead, smoke bleeding out near their town, and as they rushed forward the now solemn wind carried with it an overpowering scent of a world on fire. And when they finally reached the edge of the forest, what¡¯d once been the gateway of hanging vines, was now a small hill of entanglement and fallen trees. Helping his nearly paralyzed friend along, Grey climbed through the mess, slashing at the obstructions, until the way was clear, and they could see the ruins of their past. Violent Return Home 4. There were but few things Grey remembered about the childhood he¡¯d had before moving to SOMETHING Town on his tenth birthday; bits and gifs of holidays, a scraped knee, and his favorite, the one of him and the father who¡¯d so mysteriously disappeared. The man had kind eyes, a beard, and hair like his son¡¯s (but tamed), and in the memory, Grey could still see a cottage built beside a rushing stream where the house¡¯s water wheel turned. Near there, he could see himself standing within a circular clearing which was surrounded by a golden prairie. He had been holding a wood sword in his hands and a short distance away his statuesque father was laughing jovially and wielding a wooden sword. It had been one of the many melee lessons. That was what his mom had always said at least. But, aside from that and the other few, Grey could recall so little it used to infuriate him, as well as his teachers; it¡¯d only been two years prior that his Data Magics teacher had asked him to write out six of his favorite childhood memories, and despite how hard he¡¯d tried, it was as if each time he¡¯d start to grasp one of them, they¡¯d glitch into nothing more than that ancient language of ones and zeroes. He learned that day to keep quiet and lie whenever asked; no one wanted to hear the truth anyway. That¡¯s when the nightmares had really started, though. They¡¯d always felt more real than any memory, especially the one that¡¯d been returning with increasing frequency over the past few weeks; in it was the same cottage built by the stream, the same prairie, and the same clearing, and yet, it was as if someone had twisted his fondest image into something terrible and perverted. The stream¡¯s clear water was a purplish-brown and rather than rush, it oozed, and the connected water wheel had rotted, dripping with the slime. Fire spilled out from the cottage windows and the rest of its structure was wrapped in a miasmic film. The top of the prairies¡¯ stalks were all greyed like matchsticks, their roots the whitish turquoise of molded bread. And in the middle of it all, he would see himself standing in the clearing, clinging to that same wooden sword. Across from him, however, wasn¡¯t his father; it was a gnarled tree of a man who wore a cloak and held a staff with two skulls at its top. He was always laughing and it always ended the same, with everything going up in flames. Grey clenched his eyes tight and balled his fists. As bad as the nightmares had been, as realistic as they¡¯d felt, the scene before him was worse. There was nothing there to wake him up, only the burning houses around them as they entered into the decimated Hell. Damsel coughed into her hand, and Grey looked over at her to find her staring at a mixture of snotty soot that was in her right palm. She quickly wiped it off on her loose dress which was now all but covered in speckles of ash. Standing side by side, she nestled the fingers of her left hand into his hand, and squeezed. He glanced at her, wondering if he¡¯d have to pick her up again; she could only withstand so much despair, and as they trudged across the cobblestones, past a young couple who were frantically casting low-level rain spells to put out the flames that had consumed their home, Grey knew it was taking everything just for her to stand. ¡°I can feel you doing that,¡± she pouted, wiping her cheek with the back of her hand. ¡°Don¡¯t pity me.¡± They trekked on with their same harried pace toward their neighboring homes, but the town was in utter chaos and their movement was slowed; townspeople rushing in all directions to help each other, plumes of smoke billowing out from doorways, windows exploding outward and raining shards of glass. And finally, once they¡¯d almost reached their homes, they came upon a massive crowd which had gathered around the small town square. Shock had sent a paralyzing surge up the two young heroes¡¯ spines. Gasps and tears swelled in the onlookers as Grey and Damsel nudged their way past the bystanders. Both of them saying nothing, but wishing the same thing, please don¡¯t be mom. The crowd left space for the three in the middle of the circle. Damsel pulled Grey behind her, still holding onto his hand. When she reached the middle, the grip around Grey¡¯s hand pulsed into a fearsome clamp. His heart sank. ¡°Damsel.¡± Grey still couldn¡¯t see, ¡°Damsel, what is it?¡± Finally, his gaze reaching the middle of the circle, Grey looked on to the scene everyone had been gathered for. Filled with relief, for a brief moment, followed by an overwhelming sense of guilt. It wasn¡¯t his mother, or Damsel¡¯s parents, rather, somebody else¡¯s parents. A boy a similar age to the two of them. Wearing the wounds of a battle he only but barely walked away from. His black leather jacket had little to no armor attributes left, and ripped completely, hardly holding onto the boy¡¯s shoulders. It was Crow. On one knee, he knelt by his parents. The battle with whatever ghastly creature could have caused the destruction had bested the both of them. Crow held his father¡¯s head upright in his hands as he choked out a few last words to the young Rogue. Grey and Damsel stood at the inner edge of the circle, watching their classmate, with whom was their foe, living out a nightmare they wouldn¡¯t wish on their worst enemy. Remembering himself falling into his locker that very morning, Grey sympathized with his self-proclaimed rival. Both of their father¡¯s taken from them too early. It wasn¡¯t fair. Crow, propping his father¡¯s head up a little further, turned over his shoulder. His hair swinging like a dark pendulum in front of his eyes, stared directly at Grey. Shocked, Grey tried to retreat back into the crowd, but the villagers were packed like sardines. ¡°What about them?¡± The mutterings between Crow and his father became audible. The shaky, bloodied hand of Crow¡¯s father rose slowly. Making its way over to the two. All of the villagers¡¯ gaze followed that hand until it slowly stopped on the two of them. Crow, his father, the townsmen and women, all looking at Grey and Damsel. Crow¡¯s father placed one arm under his body to balance himself, ¡°You two¡­¡± Coughing, each word agonizing, ¡°It¡¯s up to you.¡± Grey, still trying to take a step back, could feel the eyes upon him. Damsel stood shocked. ¡°Father. Forget them. I will avenge you. The Wizard and his Dra--¡± ¡°No.¡± Crow¡¯s father used the last of his strength, pulling himself closer to his son, ¡°Not without them.¡± ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± Damsel asked Grey as she tried to shield herself from all the attention falling on them. Grey shrugged his shoulders. Unsure of what to say.The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°What is this father?¡± Crow trying to get some answers. In a final effort to be heard, Crow¡¯s father wrapped his hand around Crow¡¯s face, bringing their foreheads together. Closing his eyes, sharing a final moment with his son. He spoke his last words. Whispered into the young Rogue¡¯s ears. Grey tried to lean in closer to hear what he said, but it was out of earshot. Shared only with Crow. Those deep black wells of hellish gaze pierced through Grey¡¯s low level Charisma. Frightened, instead of stepping back, Grey dove back into the crowd, until practically crawling hand and foot out of there. ¡°Grey!¡± Damsel dove in after him. They popped out on the other side of the crowd, ¡°What was that all about?¡± ¡°Did you see the look in his eyes, Damsel?¡± Grey in a rushed panic. ¡°He just lost his father. Show a little sympathy, Grey.¡± ¡°I know. I know. It¡¯s just, he hates me. I don¡¯t know what his father said, but he didn¡¯t like it very much.¡± Damsel unfolded her arms, ¡°Yeah. Umm, what was the whole ¡®up to you two¡¯ part?¡± She clenched her fists in failure of assessing the situation, ¡°Ugh, all of this is so crazy, I don¡¯t know what to feel.¡± Before the panic could settle in too deep, a townswoman ran toward the two of them. Waving what looked like a handkerchief in her hand, ¡°Hey!¡± She covered her mouth, coughed heavily into the handkerchief, ¡°You two. We¡¯ve been looking all over for you. Where have you been?¡± ¡°We were walking home in the Ill--¡± Damsel grabbed at Grey¡¯s arm, ¡°I mean from school.¡± The townswoman wiped her face with the opposite side of the handkerchief, and glumly looked around at the crowd. Her weary eyes seemed to be searching for something, like a soldier surrounded in the trenches wondering where some backup was. Then she sighed, nodded, and sighed again. ¡°What is it?¡± Damsel asked. ¡°It¡¯s. . .¡± the townswoman said. ¡°It¡¯s. . .¡± Damsel gasped. ¡°Oh gods. Our parents.¡± The townswoman let out a sigh of relief. ¡°They were taken, darlings. I¡¯m so. . .¡± But her words had already faded. Grey took off in a sprint toward his own home in terror, weaving around the circle of those gathered around Crow, shouldering past bystanders, and leaping over the rubble and even one or two dead bodies. Damsel followed and before long they reached their houses. The structures were all but completely gone, nothing but broken code; a first floor of blocks as though the place had been abandoned halfway through its programming. He could see the living room, the open kitchen behind it, and a staircase that led up to what was now nothing but a horizontal and glitching plane. Smoke rose from there, and Grey ran through the gap where his door had been. Thick ash and soot hung, he could hardly breathe. ¡°Mom!¡± he yelled, spinning around in the living room. ¡°Mom!¡± The townswoman was running toward them with her skirts lifted, and she stopped in the opening panting. ¡°They were taken, darlings. I¡¯m so¡­¡± ¡°Where!?¡± Grey cried out, running down the busted staircase, almost falling through one of the glitching steps. ¡°They were taken, darlings. I¡¯m so¡­¡± ¡°Where were they taken?¡± Grey persisted. Damsel tried to ease the tension, ¡°Grey, stop. She¡¯s just--¡± ¡°She¡¯s just a townswomen.¡± Crow appeared in the front room of the burned house. His arms folded tightly in his chest, his eyes directed at the insulation burned to the bottom floor, ¡°She has a limited script.¡± Grey hopped off of the final three steps, landing just in front of the young rogue, ¡°Where were they taken?¡± ¡°Grey, please, calm down.¡± Damsel, again, the voice of reason. ¡°Yeah, Grey. Calm down.¡± Crow, stoic. He clenched his eyes closed for a moment, as if trying to convince himself as much as Grey, then he refitted one of the earbuds and took a deep breath. Hovering beside his head text read a tune that would make any young brood cry tears, ¡°Your mom, and,¡± he turned to Damsel, ¡°your parents were taken by a dragon. My parents and I tried to stop it, but. . .¡± his words trailed off. Grey stared hard at the rogue before him, angry, distraught. He wanted to blow up on his rival, but feeling Damsel¡¯s hand slip into his, a wave of irritating calm came over him. He hated when she did that, but with a fraction of a clear head, he knew she was right to do so. ¡°Thank you,¡± Grey muttered, staring at his feet. ¡°Sorry about your parents.¡± ¡°Yeah. Thanks, I guess.¡± Briefly, he tossed his black hair to the side and stared off into the distance. ¡°Life is meaningless anyway. Whatever. Where were the two of you?¡± Grey and Damsel looked at each other. Considering what they should tell him. Grey started, ¡°Just walking--¡± ¡°We were in the Illustrious Forest,¡± Damsel interjected, eyes welling up with tears. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry Crow. We should have been here. We should have helped you. And your parents. Grey, we should have been here.¡± ¡°She¡¯s right,¡± Grey agreed through gritted teeth, ¡°We should have been here, Crow. I¡¯m sorry.¡± ¡°It¡¯s done,¡± Crow said, finally making eye contact, ¡°We have more important things to worry about now.¡± ¡°Like what?¡± ¡°Like finding the wretched Wizard and that Dragon.¡± A creepy grin inhabited the young rogue¡¯s face and Grey shuddered. He shook it off quickly, however, and clenched his fists. ¡°Do you know where they went?¡± he asked. Crow thought for a moment, then rose his hand to the air with a sweeping gesture, and pointed. ¡°Here.¡± Grey furrowed his brow. ¡°I don¡¯t see anything.¡± ¡°Damnit, one second.¡± Crow groaned and swept a few times, then typed the space in front of him. ¡°That should do it.¡± Suddenly, a prompt appeared in the left-hand corner of Grey¡¯s peripheral. Crow has invited you to join his party. Do you accept? Grumbling about some of the Bitvision limitations, and wondering if the Gods would ever update it, Grey clicked yes, and not a moment later, the objective map which Crow had pulled up was revealed to them. On one side was a map, only a portion of it visible, and the rest of it black. Inside the black was a glowing red dot which appeared close to the Academy, and beside the map Grey could see an objective screen.
Main Objectives: ? Don¡¯t cry ? Find the Wizard in the depths of the Misty Mountains ? Kill that mother fucker ? Avenge parents ? Grieve, it¡¯s not healthy to hold in your emotions all the time ? Begrudgingly protect Grey ? Convince the Protagonist that you¡¯re not the Antagonist
Even his objective screen is mysterious looking, Grey thought, glaring. He sighed, it didn¡¯t really matter. He then studied the objective marker at the bottom of the screen, pointed to it, and asked ¡°Protect Grey? What¡¯s that about?¡± Quickly, he swiped his screen away, ¡°It¡¯s nothing. Did you get it on your map?¡¯ ¡°Yeah. I got it.¡± Grey thought maybe he read it wrong. Perhaps it wasn¡¯t exactly what he thought it was. ¡°Thanks Crow. Really, I¡¯m sorry about your parents.¡± He turned to Damsel, ¡°I need to go now. There¡¯s no time to waste.¡± Damsel pulled up her Item screen, sifting through her lack of weapons and potions, ¡°You¡¯re right, there¡¯s no time to waste. But, I¡¯m going with you.¡± It took everything in Grey¡¯s power to tell her no, but he knew he needed Damsel. Without her, he was, well¡­ ¡°Okay. You ready?¡± Damsel put away her Item screen. There was a timid nervousness in her eyes, but an eagerness that trumped it, ¡°I guess so. Ready as I¡¯ll ever be.¡± ¡°Hey, noobs, I¡¯m coming with.¡± Crow sifted through his own Item screen. Readying which weapons he wanted to have in his quick select, ¡°Here, take these.¡± He offered some basic potions to his two new party members, ¡°I swiped them off of some fallen townspeople after the attack.¡± Fucking creep, ¡°Uhh, thanks. But Crow, we can manage by ourselves. We don¡¯t need you there.¡± ¡°They killed my parents.¡± Crow approached Grey as he took a step back in fear, ¡°I¡¯m going with you. Anyways, there¡¯s no way you two can pass the first level, let alone slay the Dragon and the Wizard...no offense.¡± Damsel, ¡°A little offended, thanks Crow. But, he¡¯s right Grey, we could really use him. All three of us make a party, not just us two.¡± Grey understood, but still, the words coming out of her mouth stung a little. But...him? ¡°Fine.¡± The Friendly Troll Moving in the silence of grief and determination, Grey, Damsel, and Crow stealed across the night toward their destination; the Misty Mountains. It had not been but an hour before, trekking along the main roads, Damsel turned toward her two party members and put a finger to her lips. She pointed down the way past the tall torchlit lamps that lined the sides of the road, then Grey saw her eyes read the area in front of her as though she was reading a book there. A faint grey icon with the look of greeting card pulsed with light in the right hand corner of Grey¡¯s peripheral. Private message from Damsel @ 23:57 -- Looks like the Hero Vision chat function works; guys, I feel a distinct malevolence up ahead. Grey nodded at her, equipped his Shield of the Misnomer then the bone sword with eyes of a determined deer in the headlights. He gripped hard on the hilt of the low-level on-hand weapon, readying himself for a fight. Crow, however, shook his head and closing his eyes, for a moment, seemed to adjust one of his skills. Then, when he next spoke his voice sounded like nothing but a calm, yet eerie wind. ¡°Smart move switching to private chat, Damsel. Now, both of you, go and hide behind that large oak,¡± he commanded, ¡°and don¡¯t make a sound. I¡¯ll be back in a minute.¡± Grey stared at his self-proclaimed rival astonished and a trifle annoyed. Of course the town¡¯s pride Rogue prodigy had the Whispering Winds ability; the ancient language created by the Sky Elve¡¯s Assassin Guild back when Bitworld had been young which granted the speaker with the power to pass along secret messages, which to the ears of anyone outside their party sounded like nothing more than a passing breeze. By Crow¡¯s head the luminescent prompt that showed he was listening to Ghost of You by My Chemical Romance dulled to a faint grey. He threw on his hood, equipped two obsidian daggers, and quickly raced off the road. Grey and Damsel crept behind the large oak, looked down the foggy path and listened. After a bout of silence, they heard the distant pattering of objects falling on cobblestone, a single scream quickly cut to a gasp for life, then a rustling of leaves as though something was being dragged through them. The two friends looked at one another warily and Grey rolled his fingers along the handhold of his shield. It wasn¡¯t but a moment later that Crow appeared before them, wiping his blades off with a cloth. The light of the lamp was falling on his face and it caused a slight predatory glow in his eyes. ¡°The main roads are being watched, and if anyone with even half an ear was listening they would have heard that.¡± He sheathed his daggers, brushed his bangs to the side, and searched the shadows. ¡°Fuck, how could I have been so stupid? So slow. . .whatever, let¡¯s go.¡± The rest of the journey was long and arduous as they kept to the woods, hanging beside a river that wound through the trees and the craggy rocks. Moonlight cast down through the branches and leaves, reflecting glimmers of light off the water, and in the darkness, Damsel stopped them for a moment to watch as strange ethereal sparks of light danced between the trees. It was a rare sight, she¡¯d told them, witnessing the nature of nocturnal fairies. ¡°We don¡¯t have time for this,¡± said the Rogue. And off they went, eventually reaching a large waterfall that blocked the way. Crow scoured the area and came back with news that they¡¯d taken a wrong turn somewhere and by the looks of it they¡¯d have to travel around the waterfall. ¡°At this rate, we won¡¯t even reach the mountains until tomorrow afternoon.¡± He scowled at the sky. ¡°And I don¡¯t want to travel during the day, not with the Agents of Light about.¡± Damsel had been holding two fingers to her breast with her eyes closed. ¡°I think I might have an idea!¡± ¡°Great,¡± Crow said sarcastically. ¡°The Empath has an idea.¡± ¡°Hey, watch it,¡± Grey said. Damsel smiled at her best friend. ¡°Oh, look at that, Grey,¡± she giggled. ¡°Crow is an Empathist. Makes sense, most melee classes are, but only until they meet someone with the true gift.¡± ¡°Fine, gifted one,¡± Crow said. ¡°Let¡¯s hear it, what¡¯s your brilliant plan? Feel the waterfall into running upstream for us? Call up some fairies to fly us?¡± ¡°Something like that, actually.¡± Then she was gone, leaving the two young men to sit on some rocks by the cascading falls in silence. Grey wasn¡¯t the most talkative person in the best of situations, small talk made him feel incredibly uncomfortable, but as he looked at Crow, the idea of having an actual conversation about anything made his insides turn. The only thing he thought they had in common was that they¡¯d both lost their parents. But, Grey thought, at least his might still be alive. Finally, he heard the sound of extremely heavy footsteps cracking fallen logs in the distance, and the closer the sound got, the more unsteady the ground became. It shook rhythmically. Grey then heard trees parting high up above and looked up, nearly falling off his seat. It was the biggest troll he¡¯d ever seen, and Damsel was riding in the creature¡¯s hand. ¡°He said he¡¯ll lift us over the waterfall,¡± she said giddily as the creature lowered her onto the ground. For once, Crow actually looked scared, and Grey couldn¡¯t help but feel a little bit of joy at that. ¡°How¡¯d. . .how¡¯d you do that?¡± the Rogue asked her. She simply shrugged. ¡°Oh, it wasn¡¯t hard. Trolls live a solitary life, and no one ever listens to them. Amazing what showing someone care and respect can do.¡± The troll nodded shyly, and smiled its big rocky mouth at its new friend. Then, easily fitting all the young heroes in his one granite palm, he hoisted them clear up the fifty foot high waterfall. Crow hopped off expediently, followed by Grey. Damsel, had the troll raise her to his gleaming yellow eyes and pointed at him with a motherly finger. ¡°Now remember,¡± she said, ¡°sometimes it¡¯s okay to ask for help, okay?¡± He nodded. Then she kissed where a nose might¡¯ve been, and he let her go. As they walked away in silence, she waved once more to the monolithic creature, and the party continued their woodland journey by the way of the rolling river. The moon gleamed and the stars flickered in the sky. They passed on through the rest of the night without incident, and by the time the sun was rising over the distant horizon the party came up on the first of the footsteps they¡¯d seen since leaving the road six hours prior. ¡°Shhh,¡± Crow said in his Whispering Winds voice. He knelt down, placed his hand on one of the prints and inspected the tracks. ¡°Okay, we¡¯re fine. These belong to hunters, not to them.¡± Something about the way he said ¡®them¡¯ sent a chill down Grey¡¯s spine. ¡°Who¡¯s them?¡± he asked. But Crow didn¡¯t answer; he just waved his hand, and led them forward out of the woods toward a tall fence made of thick logs that were filed at their pinnacles and tied together. In the middle were two dwarven guards and they stood on the left and right of a gate. Behind the gate was a sentry tower that was alight with a flame and as they approached the gate, Grey looked up at the tower in awe. There was a single Hocklith holding a cross bow and patrolling inside it. With his avian eyes he held the heroes in a piercing gaze. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen a Hocklith before,¡± Grey said to Damsel. Crow sighed. ¡°Don¡¯t make any surprising movement, Grey. They act faster than they think. Creatures with that fast of instincts and that great a lack of intelligence is a danger to everyone.¡± They went slow, and were stopped within five feet of the gate. The Rogue quickly whispered, ¡°Let me do the talking.¡± The dwarven guards stepped forward, their axes held across their chest, and craned their necks to stare down the tall Rogue. They glanced to one another seemingly unsure of who was on authoritative talking duty that day. Crow answered that question for them promptly. ¡°My name is Crow son of Thyran,¡± he said, ¡°we seek supplies and passage into the Misty Mountains.¡± The two dwarves grunted and scanned the party with the natural Inspect ability granted to all Gate Guardians across Bitworld. ¡°You three, in the Misty Mountains, har-har. One level thirteen Rogue,¡± the red-bearded one grunted, ¡°a level one Empath and a level one. . .¡± then his eyes narrowed, trying to place Grey. ¡°What class be you, squid? Grey stuffed his hands awkwardly in his pockets and shuffled his feet, searching for an answer that might suffice, but as he looked up at the Hocklith who had its crossbow aimed at the young hero¡¯s chest, he found he could not speak. Crow stepped in front of him guardedly, and his voice dropped into a strange song. ¡°You don¡¯t care about his class, he is no one. And it¡¯s not your job to dictate our quests, for our being here does not interfere with the business here. Let us pass.¡± The two dwarves stepped back, their expressions filled with stupor. ¡°Hmmmph,¡± said the heavily mustached dwarf, ¡°yar, you may pass.¡± Together, they stomped back to the wheels on both sides of the gate and heaved the metal forward. Clinking, the gate slowly rose upward, then tilted diagonally back and went horizontal. With Crow in the lead, the party members walked under and as they passed the sentry tower, the Rogue shot the Hocklith a sharp, eye as though daring to give them trouble. Then they navigated the small path which lead them through the fringes of the market, past a group of badly beaten but well-armored Champions who were arguing with a sturdy looking orc over being cheated. ¡°Stay close,¡± Crow whispered, ¡°and remember. . .¡± ¡°Let you do the talking,¡± Grey finished for him begrudgingly. Damsel laced her hand in Grey¡¯s as they walked across the muddy path. She had two fingers pressed to her breast and was slightly trembling. ¡°What is it?¡± Grey asked her. ¡°Something malevolent.¡± Crow stopped in his tracks and snapped his head around his shoulder. ¡°Like on the road?¡± he asked. ¡°I don¡¯t know, maybe.¡± He placed his thumb and index on his chin and stared at the ground. ¡°No, they¡¯d be crazy to do anything here, but still, Damsel, keep a feel on the place and if it intensifies around anybody, let me know as quickly as possible.¡± She nodded and Grey felt his own heartbeat speed. There was something the Rogue wasn¡¯t telling them and he felt certain that it had something to do with Crow¡¯s father¡¯s dying words, and as the young hero looked around, he could not help but wonder if perhaps there was more to what had happened in town than what the townspeople had assumed. The questions rose in his mind again, as they had so many times since leaving his past behind in search of his mother; why had the dragon kidnapped her? It still didn¡¯t make sense, something so random. And Crow was even more cryptic than usual.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. The Rogue glared down at the young hero. ¡°Look,¡± he whispered, ¡°you need to quiet your fucking mind right now, noob. I can sense your thoughts and I don¡¯t even have any telepathy skills. If there are any wizards prodding through minds here, then you¡¯re going to get us into trouble.¡± ¡°What sort of trouble?¡± Grey asked. But Crow only shook his head. ¡°It¡¯s nothing of concern right now,¡± he said, but high charisma stat or not, even he couldn¡¯t lie that well. He had both hands near his blades and his fingers were practically playing a piano on the daggers¡¯ hilts. Grey felt uncomfortable with the entire thing, on edge as he ever had, and more confused than ever before. And even with Damsel¡¯s palms flowing pulses of calm into him, she still didn¡¯t have high enough skills to overcome all which troubled the young hero. He smiled at her nonetheless and they followed Crow deeper into the marketplace. Crisp morning air filled their lungs and a light fog tangled about their feet as they trudged through the mud. In the center of the area was a large flickering fire, and as they approached it, a variety of shops began populating -- a blacksmith, a florist, two different merchants, an apothecary, and so on -- and with them, segregated crowds of Non-Hero-Classes (NHCs), worn down parties much like their own but with far better armor. Grey could make out little in the way of conversations, the sounds of dialogues piling on top of each other into utter nonsense. Scents of smoking meat wafted through the crisp morning from an Orc butcher setting up for his first customers who were lined up in front of the stand. ¡°Calm down,¡± whispered Damsel to him. ¡°Sorry.¡± They came to a stop next to an elvish merchant that was calling out to people about having the best coffee in the marketplace, and Crow did the closest thing to a smile Grey had seen him do. The Rogue quickly went to the merchant, offered him some coins, and as the elf made the beverages, Grey could not help but creep as close to the stand as possible and eavesdrop on the casual conversation Crow was having. ¡°What sort of travelers have been by?¡± the Rogue asked the elf. ¡°What sort of travelers are you looking for in particular?¡± Crow brushed a bang behind his ear. ¡°Just competition I suppose. We¡¯ve all just traveled from oversea and had heard that the Misty Mountains were a good place to start. My little brother and sister, you see, are quite low-leveled and I worry about them.¡± The elf clicked an espresso hanger into place at a strange contraption, snapped his fingers and three streams of amber liquid trickled into little iron cups below. He turned over his shoulder, glanced at the party and nodded in understanding. ¡°There have been many higher level heroes than you three, but most of them have proved most genial of characters,¡± he said, pouring the three steams into three cups which had already been filled ? full of black liquid. He put a lid on each and brought them to the counter, smirked and nodded at a jar in front of a register. ¡°I would hate to give information about them, they tipped quite well, to stay anonymous. But, I might be able to be swayed.¡± Crow sighed. ¡°I completely understand. How much do I owe you?¡± The elf sighed as well, heavier, and the exchange was made. A tip as well, but only what Crow clearly thought was necessary. He handed two cups to his party members and for the second time ever, Grey could see a wicked smile on his face. ¡°What are you so happy about?¡± he asked. ¡°I just gained twenty-one experience points for that conversation¡± said Crow, taking a sip of his coffee. ¡°And that elf provided me with a good deal of information.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t understand.¡± ¡°And you lied,¡± added Damsel. ¡°To someone that likely talks with every vagabond in the marketplace, and provides information to anyone who offers a price for his knowledge. Likely, that malevolence you felt earlier, Damsel, already offered him coin to pass on intel if three kids such as us approached.¡± ¡°How do you know that?¡± ¡°When he offered his services if I tipped him, he was trying to get me to reveal myself by paying for information that only three people in danger would need. But by telling me those who tipped him previously wished to remain anonymous he let his hand slip. Stupid easy, honestly.¡± The Rogue held the cup to his lips and breathed in the steam, then flicked his eyes around the marketplace. ¡°Either way, let¡¯s be fast. I checked both your character screens previously and it looks like neither of you have much in the way of money. Since my parents. . .¡± he trailed off, cracking his neck. ¡°I, however, have come into a bit of funds myself since yesterday. I¡¯m going to give you each 400 coins to spend on either armor or a weapon.¡± He shot a sharp eye at Damsel. ¡°Don¡¯t be stupid with them.¡± ¡°Hey,¡± she said, ¡°just because I¡¯m a girl doesn¡¯t mean I spend frivolously.¡± ¡°You¡¯re an Empath. Empaths spend impulsively. Doesn¡¯t have anything to do with your gender.¡± Grey puckered his face as he tried forcing down more of the revitalizing beverage. ¡°Why,¡± he asked, ¡°are you giving us money? It seems, well, nice.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know what we¡¯re going up against, but I¡¯m not a fucking tank or healer. I kill things, I can¡¯t worry about the two of you if we find ourselves in a fight, which we will; this is the only way I can think of (other than spending a bunch of fucking hours killing rabbits and shit) to improve your chances of survival. Understood?¡± ¡°You didn¡¯t have to be so rude about it,¡± said Damsel, gasping. ¡°By the Gods, I could even feel your hatred for us.¡± The three approached the nearest merchant, a young man barely older than Grey who looked quite unhappy in his career. The place was a hodgepodge build which would¡¯ve barely even been acceptable by the Lemonade Guild of Bitworld¡¯s standards, and a crooked sign hung from the sloping roof which read; STEVE¡¯S LYTE ARMORE AND WEPENRY Damsel put her hands on the stand, then pulled them off for it was quite dirty, and stared at the sluggish moptop merchant who was sitting, half asleep in a chair. There was a little bell on the stand and she inspected it like one might inspect the bacterium of a rare disease. Grey pressed it for her. The merchant perked up about as much as he could manage and yawned. ¡°Welcome, how may I help you?¡± In the left hand corner of Grey¡¯s vision, a translucent drop down box appeared.
BYE SEL KWIT
He read the words curiously, almost finding himself second guessing his own knowledge of spelling, then remembered what he¡¯d heard in his old Second Period Class; that each merchant of Bitworld programs their own shops, glanced at the merchant and no longer second guessed himself. He and Damsel both clicked BYE and it didn¡¯t take long for Grey to realize that everything the merchant had for sale could only be used by Empaths and Wizards. He exited out and waited as Damsel thoroughly inspected each item. Crow stood protectively behind his two party members studying the merchant for a moment, until finally he stepped past Grey, up to the stand where he charmingly put his hands on the surface. ¡°Steve?¡± he said lightly, ¡°is that you? We had a class together, right?¡± ¡°Ummm,¡± Steve stammered, blushing. ¡°Yeah, I was hoping you wouldn¡¯t recognize me.¡± ¡°Why?¡± Steve sighed, then eyed the Rogue, then Damsel, then Grey depressingly. ¡°It wasn¡¯t supposed to be like this, I studied hard back at the Academy, and I¡­¡± Grey glanced up at the stand¡¯s sign again, and couldn¡¯t help but think otherwise. ¡°...but when I took my Tutorial, the simulation¡¯s boss populated and it wasn¡¯t a minotaur or anything like that; it was a group of heroes. I was standing behind a merchant stand, like this one. I was chosen to be an NHC. Then the school burnt down so I couldn¡¯t even finish my business studies. My parents, you probably remember them, both on the Champion¡¯s Committee, they disowned me. So now I¡¯m here.¡± Crow was shaking his head remorsefully. ¡°Shame, you were always good in, erm, that class we had together.¡± ¡°Yeah?¡± ¡°Definitely, I always looked up to you, really, I did. Hey, maybe being an NHC isn¡¯t so bad. Tell you the truth, I¡¯d switch places with you in a heartbeat.¡± The merchant started standing up excitedly. ¡°Oh,¡± said Crow casually, ¡°but I couldn¡¯t do that. Rules of the field test, of course. Still, you should take pride in your work. Without honest merchants with fair prices, heroes would be useless.¡± He smiled the way a serpent might , and turned to Grey and Damsel. ¡°Did the both of you find what you were looking for yet?¡± Grey nodded, inspecting some pauldrons.
Crude Pauldrons Cost: 102 coins Level 1 Durability: 22/22 Defense: + 2-5 Item Class: Very Common Forgery: BIT-MART Quality: They¡¯re called crude pauldrons, what do you think the quality is? Weight: 12.3 lb
He clicked on the item to buy it, and a red prompt appeared telling him he didn¡¯t have enough money to buy the item. ¡°I guess I haven¡¯t. Everything is too expensive.¡± Crow sighed and turned to Steve. ¡°Hey, I know it¡¯s a lot to ask but would you take 100 coins instead of 102? I¡¯m teaching the noobs how to budget, but it¡¯s hard with inflation and all that.¡± Steve¡¯s eyes seemed to glaze over, and Grey watched as the cost of the pauldrons dropped by thirty percent. He shook his head in irritated amazement, then bought and equipped the item. The pauldrons fit loosely over his baggy hoodie, and as he looked down at his jeans and running shoes, yearned for the day when he had actual armor, and stopped, thinking once more about the mystery that was his Class and whether he¡¯d be able to equip any Class Specific Items he wanted or if he wouldn¡¯t be able to use any of them at all. He knew as well as anyone that there was far more to becoming the best hero possible than just leveling up, and found himself suddenly worried. With Damsel¡¯s Empathic beauty and Crow¡¯s high Charisma, they were able to get a bundle deal for her; it consisted of a crude bow, small quiver, and a fine looking tunic which draped well around her figure, cutting off mid-calf. She was inspecting herself and shuffling her feet uncomfortably. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Grey asked. ¡°I¡¯m wearing a long duster¡¯s tunic, chuck taylors, and a baseball cap. I don¡¯t think I match.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t,¡± said Crow. ¡°But you¡¯re a level one. No one expects you to match.¡± They left the merchant and as they walked, Crow explained how Charisma was a Rogue¡¯s best friend, and why no party should ever find themselves without at least one master of the attribute. And despite his disliking for his rival, Grey couldn¡¯t deny that the Rogue had talents, so he listened intently. They stopped at one more shop to stock up on some more potions and Crow charmed his way into getting some free food. ¡°You stole that,¡± Damsel scolded him quietly. ¡°Sometimes Charisma needs to be utilized in creative ways.¡± ¡°Grey,¡± she admonished, ¡°please don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re taking notes right now.¡± ¡°Um,¡± he stammered, quickly unequipping the standard notepad that every hero had in their inventory. ¡°Nope.¡± At the edge of the marketplace, Crow told them he had one last stop to make, then ordered them to wait on a nearby bench and keep to themselves. He hurried away toward a large black, gold, and mysterious looking tent of extravagant silk, then, looking both ways, slipped under the flap. Grey could not pull his eyes away from that tent and after a few minutes, stood from the bench. ¡°Where are you going?¡± Damsel asked. ¡°I want to see what he¡¯s up to.¡± ¡°You really don¡¯t trust him, do you?¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°Why not?¡± Grey didn¡¯t have an answer he could pinpoint. There seemed so many to choose from, and some of them he wasn¡¯t entirely proud of. He glanced at her, then at the tent. ¡°Fine,¡± she said finally, rising to her feet. ¡°You¡¯re so stubborn sometimes.¡± They ran toward the tent and snuck around the side of it, getting as close to the sound of a dialogue as they could. One of the voices belonged to an old lady who¡¯d likely smoked her own potions for far too long, but the other was Crow¡¯s. He was speaking in his Whispering Winds, and yet, Grey thanked the Gods, the Rogue had forgotten to take his party members out of understanding. ¡°No,¡± the Witch said, ¡°I¡¯m retired from my days of an illusionist.¡± ¡°This isn¡¯t about retirement, it¡¯s about duty.¡± ¡°There¡¯s no duty anymore, the prophecy is a sham.¡± ¡°Tell that to the dragon that killed my fucking parents.¡± The Witch fell silent for a moment, and Grey could hear her rummaging through a few potions, cleaning perhaps, as though too old and callous to conjure up a sentence of sympathy. A glass fell and broke. ¡°Look what you¡¯ve made me do,¡± she hissed. ¡°You¡¯re clumsy, don¡¯t blame me. Now, are you going to help me or not?¡± ¡°No. You¡¯re a foolish boy, He has the Nine already. So unless you know something I. . .you do know something, don¡¯t you? I can see it in your eyes, or at least the eye you don¡¯t have covered up by that stupid hair of yours. You should cut it, it looks stupid.¡± ¡°I know more than I can tell you, but you need to trust me, like my parents once trusted you. He might have the Nine, but without the. . .¡± ¡°Shhhh,¡± she hissed again. ¡°Don¡¯t say it, people might be listening. Fine. I¡¯ll do you this favor. But even if my illusion can lead them toward the next town, they will eventually realize where you¡¯ve gone.¡± ¡°Eventually will be long enough; it has to be.¡± The Misty Forest The first level of the party¡¯s quest populated before them; a linear trail which stretched one hundred feet before reaching the beginning of the forest where it became surrounded by a wall of trees. Vines wrapped around the trunks like snakes suffocating a meal, and thirty feet above the muddy surface, the trees split and their branches formed an entangled ceiling. Grey shivered as his eyes wandered above their path. From what he could see, the trail would lead them straight for only a while before it would have to curve along the face of the mountain for the towering expanse was far too steep to climb straight up. What lay on that path, however, he could not tell; it was concealed by armies of dense foliage as far up as he could see before it disappeared into a heavy fog. Crow stepped in front of Grey and Damsel, unsheathing his Blades of the Forsaken, and without bothering to look at them, said; ¡°You think it¡¯s menacing from here, wait until we get inside. These introductory levels are always eerie and lonely places.¡± Damsel turned to Grey, cupped her hands over his ear and started to whisper that she was surprised the brooding Rogue hadn¡¯t said anything likening the darkness to his own heart when Crow sighed longingly. ¡°It feels like home; lonely like my heart and eerie like my heart.¡± The two best friends clasped their hands over their mouths, stifling a laugh. ¡°You might¡¯ve spoke too soon,¡± Grey whispered. ¡°Come on, noobs,¡± Crow said to them, stalking forward with his blades at the ready. Together, they hadn¡¯t even gotten five steps past the forest¡¯s opening when the snake-like vines slithered off the first wall of trees, reached across the middle, and knotted together, sealing the three into the forest. Grey spun around, gulped. Crow chuckled and made a malevolent little comment about how there was no going back. ¡°As if we didn¡¯t already know that,¡± Damsel murmured. The air grew heavier and damp; only breathable because of the luminescent plants that lined the narrow path. Colors danced off of the leaves, small amphibious creatures hopped from puddle to puddle, swallowing blood sucking insects off of the tree bark. The mud on the floor thickened with each imprint of the heroes¡¯ boots. The trees hung over their heads, creating only shadows as markers, and the fog had seemed to drift down from the top of the mountain for it had started wafting in between the forest. Three paces ahead of his party, Crow stopped in his tracks and put his hand up to alert the others. ¡°Hold on.¡± Grey grumbled, ¡°What is it? We should keep moving.¡± Pointing towards a small puddle of mud in front of him, ¡°See that?¡± A hole opened into a thick black sludge. It bubbled on the surface and smoke rose from the pit carrying a smell that could only be described as death. ¡°Look!¡± Damsel shifted their eyes upward, ¡°there¡¯s a vine. I bet we can swing across.¡± Crow turned around, looking impressed, ¡°Alright. I¡¯ll go first. Follow my lead.¡± Taking a step back, the young rogue cracked his neck side to side and started off toward the gap in the forest floor. He grabbed onto the vine easily, swinging towards the other side, performing a flawless backflip, and landed almost completely silently. His knees bent, hand on the floor like some sort of crawling lizard, he turned on the balls of his feet, signaling to the other two, ¡°Come on.¡± Show off, Grey scoffed. He turned to Damsel, who briefly fanned herself, ¡°Whew, okay. I¡¯ll go next.¡± She tied her hair up into a tight bun and then started to swing her arms back and forth to gain momentum. Dashing forward, snatching the vine mid-air, landing gracefully. The other two were impressed. ¡°Whoa! You guys see that?¡± Damsel swung around in celebration, ¡°Alright, Grey, you¡¯re up.¡± His first test, Grey placed his shield back into his Item screen, it hung directly on his back. It was heavy, only being supported by his young spindly legs, ¡°Alright. Stand back guys.¡± ¡°Please.¡± Crow whispered. Grey took a deep breath in, three seconds, and then out, three seconds. The smoke rose out of the pit ahead of him. The vine only dangled slightly, back and forth, an easy target to leap and grab. Just like the training course. He planted his feet, turning them to create friction in the slippery mud. Heavy footed, he high stepped toward the pit. Each step falling deeper and deeper in to the thick, slimy mud. His feet felt heavy, the mud gathering around them seemed to be getting deeper. The black sludge in the pit bubbled louder. Firmly off of his back leg, Grey started for the black pit in front of him. Right, left, right, he was off with a bound suited for the first round of cuts at JV basketball tryouts. He barely grasped the vine with his right hand and in a moment of panic wrapped his leg to prevent his falling into a slimy demise. ¡°Leap off, you idiot.¡± Crow cheered from the sideline. Grey tried but his jump hadn¡¯t created enough momentum to clear the gap on the first swing. Stalling there above the center of the pit, he gulped. More embarrassed than anything else as Crow laughed. ¡°You look like a cat avoiding a bath.¡±Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. ¡°Shut up, Crow,¡± Damsel said. Her eyes grew wide then, ¡°Grey, um, hurry.¡± ¡°What?¡± he asked, quickly realizing what she looked so worried about as he heard a boiling below his feet. His eyes darted down. The pit had transformed from a nuisance into a threat. Now more sludge than mud puddle, it bubbled, spitting and spewing black goop. Clutching to the vine with his hands and feet, he scrambled to the top of the vine. ¡°Guys, what do I do?!¡± Crow facepalmed. ¡°Kick your legs back once more for momentum, then swing forward and hurl yourself off. It¡¯s really not that difficult, for the sake of fucking One.¡± Grey thought about it for a minute, trying to figure out the mechanics of the movement, and started kicking back and forth like a child on a swing set, but it wasn¡¯t enough. Damsel told him to relax, which he thought was easy for her to say, then she dashed to a tree and broke a branch off it, briefly asking the forest for forgiveness. She returned and, extending it over the edge of the volcanic ooze, yelled for him to take it. He kicked a little ways forward, tried grabbing hold; his fingers brushed it, then the vine swung back. Below, the ooze had come to life. It piled on top of itself, climbing its own body to ascend to the dangling hero. It manifested hands out of its thick substance and snatched Grey¡¯s feet. He tucked his knees, and yelped courageously. Crow ripped the branch from Damsel¡¯s hands, ¡°Jump! I¡¯ll pull you in.¡± Eyeing the branch, Grey gave the attempt one last valiant effort, kicked as hard as he could. As he swung, the oozing hand burned the vine just below his feet. Crow yelled for the noob hero to release, and Grey listened; he flew an inch, snatched the branch. Crow yanked back, and pulled Grey toward him -- out of the sludge¡¯s reach. Grunting, the two toppled over each other, and rolled a few feet across the trail. When they stopped, they craned their necks and watched as the sludge sunk back into the pit, just simmering on the surface, back to its resting state. With a sigh, they both let their heads drop and just laid there on their backs for a minute. Grey chuckled nervously. ¡°That was close, huh?¡± ¡°Shut up, noob,¡± Crow said to him. ¡°You¡¯re a serious handicap, you know that?¡± The obvious anchor of the group had just started to protest when Damsel -- who¡¯d been standing at their feet, facing the pit -- interrupted with an inconvenient notification. She had one finger pointing to their previous obstacle and her other hand was clutched around her amulet. Pushing themselves up to their feet, the bickering boys looked past her and the six foot gap between them and the pit. ¡°Well, fuck me,¡± Crow said. The fog had increased in its density, tangling over the trail in nearly opaque hues of purplish grey, but even as thick as it was they could still see the pit¡¯s mid-creation mud sculpture; a giant flock of dark, slimy, bucklings. Their cries were almost as horrific as a restaurant filled with young parents who¡¯d had the audacity to bring their wailing infants into a public place. The bucklings evolved into full grown goopy goats; still bleating. Grey¡¯s inspect ability automatically popped up on one of them.
Slime Goats: Level 3 HP: 17 Cursed by the environmental neglect of Al¡¯eron Con¡¯s dark corporatist magic, Slime Goats exist solely for revenge -- if one human is an asshole worthy of deletion, all of them are. Important note: Slime Goats have a two second respawn time.
As useful as the ability was, it never did have a terrific sense of timing, for as Grey read it over, the slime goats stomped their hooves and charged forward. Feeling a little humiliated for having such trouble with the simple act of swinging over a pit, Grey pulled out Shield of the Misnomer, leapt in front of Damsel and yelled; ¡°Go, I¡¯ll hold them off!¡± He stood his ground, and unleashed the most powerful shield bash he could. The attack smashed the first wall, and the goats exploded, spraying ooze in all directions. But just as Grey felt some triumphant EXP flow into him and went to attack the next row, he understood what the prompt¡¯s ¡°important note¡± had been referring to. The ones he¡¯d smashed regathered the goops of their massacred bodies. Their contents, like some toxic and impenetrable puddy, molded together again. ¡°It¡¯s useless,¡± Crow cried out from up ahead, ¡°we can¡¯t use base attacks on them.¡± Grey tried his best to wipe the ooze off of his hoodie, but the poison effect had already taken course. His HP bar drained, ticking slowly over time. Eyeing his pixelvision, Grey noticed a notification in the upper corner from his party member. ¡°Use it. It will stop the poison effect from draining your HP.¡± Grey eyed Crow up ahead of him by several steps, once again feeling inadequate in his role. He quickly equipped the item gifted to him. A small patch he placed on his upper arm. There was no time-lapse in effect as the patch sealed his body in some sort of poison-immune shield. ¡°Thanks Crow.¡± Grey¡¯s HP bar stopped draining and sat at around 75%. ¡°I can¡¯t be poisoned, it¡¯s an inherited rogue ability. No reason to thank me.¡± The goats galloped nearer and the sounds of their footsteps sloshed right behind the three heroes. Damsel and Grey struggled to keep up with Crow who bounded over vines and more black puddles easily. With the adrenaline coursing through his body, Grey was able to make the jumps a little easier. Leaping and grabbing onto the vines, swinging ever so clumsily onto the path in front. The forest was relentless, seemingly birthing obstacles as they ran. With the ooze grabbing at their ankles, Grey and Damsel had to keep applying the patches every time their cooldown effect ran out. Then, one of the puddle¡¯s hands snatched Damsel¡¯s ankles, tripped her, and threw her to the floor. It began dragging her back toward the oncoming stampede as she dug her hands into the trail, and cried out. Grey spun to help her. Even if his shield bash couldn¡¯t really affect the slime goats, no threat could stop him from trying to protect his best friend. He slashed the wrist of the bubbling blackness, and raised his shield to bash the stampede. Crow groaned, shoved him to the side, and with Blades of the Forsaken held at his sides, leapt head first into his foes. Slicing and dicing in rogue-like fashion, splatters of ooze shot in the air. He yelled at his allies to get out, and followed it up with an insult. ¡°That wasn¡¯t very nice,¡± Damsel protested, as Grey helped her up. ¡°Now we¡¯re not going to help you.¡± ¡°Good,¡± Crow yelled to them, cutting a goat¡¯s head off. The two best friends left their dark savior behind, and took off down the obstacle riddled path until they¡¯d gone about twenty feet and Damsel finally turned to look back at Crow. He was being overrun, the stampede piling on top of him. She asked Grey is perhaps they should provide aid. He glanced at his self-proclaimed rival, and shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m sure he¡¯ll be fine.¡± ¡°But¡­¡± she started to say. Crow¡¯s blades stabbed through the pile, puncturing the ceiling of oozing bodies, then he corkscrewed over his foes, did a double front flip -- while cutting up more enemies -- added a 540 spin, and stuck a landing that any judge would¡¯ve given a 10/10. He performed an even more impressive hair toss, and smirked. ¡°See,¡± Grey said, picking up into a run again. ¡°He¡¯s fine.¡± In no time, Crow had caught up with them, occasionally darting back to suck up some EXP, where all but his silhouette would disappear in the looming fog, then he¡¯d return. Shortly after, just as Grey was about to ask when they¡¯d get to the end of the level, their feet slipped on a sheer drop that everyone would later swear hadn¡¯t been there before, and they plummeted into an abysmal fog. Protector of the Misty Forest Grey sat up, spinning around to see that he had fell around 7 feet. A wall of mist was above the ledge he fell from. Crow and Damsel popped out of the mist like some two-dimensional portal leading into another dimension. Damsel landed face first into the muddy forest floor next to Grey. Crow surpassed both of them, somersaulting forward and sticking another perfect 10 landing. All three looked up, the wall of mist was still emanating that horrible rumbling. The goats did not follow. Swirling, the wall of mist began to tornado in the center, like a topographical view of a hurricane. It spun, fast, then sealed itself. A black wall closed completely and the eerie hum from the forest was gone. Dead silent. No mist. All joining together in a sigh of relief, they surveyed the area around them. ¡°So. No more path, huh?¡± Crow walked around and looked for an opening in the forest. The area they landed in was a massive circular field covered in a damp moss. Vines lined the walls and ascended upwards, covering the sky with its impossibly long, mangled branches. Torches were hung at every compass side of the stage-like setting. Just beneath the forests vines were speckled pods. Thousands at least. All different sizes; big, small, massive. The pods sat dormant under the foliage like a fungus feeding off of the roots. ¡°Look!¡± Damsel pointed to the north side of the large open field, ¡°It¡¯s that way.¡± Some 30 yards ahead of them, on the opposite side of the field was an impressive, limestone staircase. ¡°It must lead out of the forest.¡± ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡± The three walked side by side. Only making it a few feet towards the staircase, popping sounds like bubble wrap echoed all around them. ¡°Ugh, what now?¡± Damsel swiveled her head all around. Incessant popping and tapping rung in the air. ¡°Look.¡± Crow, pointing at the no longer dormant pods under the trees. Grey equipped his Item screen, pulling out his Crude sword and Shield of the Misnomer. Damsel and Crow took out their respected weapons. A bow appeared in Damsel¡¯s hands. She quickly placed one of the basic quivers onto the arrow rest. Crow spun two small daggers expertly in his hands. The devastatingly sharp blades tucked back against his forearms. A sonata of crackling continued; a tune played by the horrible hatchling pods. From them, dark colored arachnids crawled out. The eggs continued to hatch until hundreds of bodies, and thousands of legs blanketed the floor leading to the staircase. ¡°Sp...Sp¡­¡± Damsel started. Crow finished her mumblings, ¡°Spiders... It¡¯s spiders.¡± Grey fashioned his shield in front of himself and his sword at the ready, ¡°That¡¯s a lot of freaking spiders.¡± Ignoring the obvious statement, the three of them backed away slowly as the floor grew double in size from the insect ridden disease that was hatched. The arachnid creatures were definitely born of the forest. Having no eyes, their bodies were a smooth black like a satin sheet, or Crow¡¯s glorious bangs. All glimmering in the glow of the flora; the moonlight hanging in the trees. They walked slowly, leg by leg, steadily crawling towards the three. The path had sealed behind them, and the round stage-like field was surrounded by tall vined walls. The Colosseum was set for the three gladiators. ¡°Oh. My. Gods.¡± Damsel still stuttering on her words. Gagging as she readied her bow. Crow sharpened his blades by rubbing them together, creating a sinister screech of metal in the process, ¡°Useless creatures. Let¡¯s squash them.¡± He leaped, and bounded. Landing on the heads of the creatures in process. ¡°Protect us from the outside, Damsel.¡± Grey dove into the dark crowd of insects. Damsel aimed her quivers from a distance, repeating the same word every time she shot, ¡°Ew,¡± swoosh, ¡°Ew,¡± swoosh, ¡°Ew.¡± Arrows flung by the heroes¡¯ heads and into the spiders bodies. Crow twisted and contorted his body in an assassin¡¯s arsenal of movements; raining a calculated hell with his blades. Grey swung his sword and bashed his shield into the meek creatures. Teeing off on the round bodies of the spiders, they flew in every direction. A flurry of prompts appeared in Grey¡¯s peripheral as miniscule amounts of exp. flooded into his pixelvision. It wasn¡¯t enough to level him up, but he was on his way. They communicated over their party chat. ¡°How many of these things are there!¡± Grey swung around, his blade slashing through the insects, his shield launching the creatures into oblivion. Damsel continued firing arrows, ¡°Too many!¡± ¡°327.¡± Crow stated matter of factly. Running along the heads of the spiders, squashing them in his path, ¡°And they keep on coming. Look.¡± The hatched pods sealed themselves with every new hatchling. The shells would crack, shake in a static state, then reappear whole. Repeating that process every time one of its hatchlings died. ¡°They¡¯re regenerating.¡± Grey took a step back to observe the pods, ¡°It¡¯s the forest, we need to burn the vines down.¡± ¡°Grey!¡± Damsel shot an arrow near his foot. ¡°Hey! What¡¯s that for?¡± Grey turned to Damsel, smashing a spider in the process with his shield. She looked neither sad, nor mad, but disappointed, ¡°Don¡¯t you even think about it.¡± Begrudgingly, ¡°He¡¯s right.¡± Crow retreated, a trail of the million crawling legs following him like they were honey spilled on the floor. He ran towards one of the vined walls, jumping off of one of the speckled eggs, dashing one, two, three steps along the wall and snatched one of the lit torches from the iron sconce. ¡°No!¡± Damsel tried to fire warning shots at Crow, but the damned Rogue was faster than she could aim her bow. Running along the wall, he held the torch to the vines to ignite them. As if doused in gasoline, they burst into violent flames. The Forest squealed and the vines erupted. Engulfed in flames, the tree lined sky above fell in a flurry of ash and terror. The eight legged creatures on the mossy floor continued their attack, but did not regenerate. Above, a setting sun finally made an appearance. Lighting the battle ground below, turning the wretched creatures from creepy, to almost insignificant. The vined walls fell, and the dark stage turned into the sunny mountain side of the misty mountains. The staircase just ahead, well lit, and eager to be climbed. ¡°Nice! Only a few left.¡± Grey ran through a massive crowd of the spiders, using his shield as a bulldozer. Legs and guts flew around him like a plow on the early morning streets of late December.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. Damsel¡¯s shots were more infrequent. Crying made ranged attacks very difficult. Ping, a golden hue erupted around the Hero. Giddy with excitement, he thrust his fist in the air, ¡°Yes!¡± He ran over the thousands of shattered insects around him, his boots sloshing in guts as he approached Damsel, ¡°Level 2 Damsel! So cool.¡± She put the bow on the ground, and fell to her knees next to her weapon. Defeated, she clutched some of the ash that had fallen to the floor and squeezed it tightly in her hand, ¡°Yeah¡­that¡¯s great.¡± Crow walked over to the two, ¡°Alright. I think that¡¯s it.¡± ¡°No.¡± Calmly, Grey pointed behind Crow with a limp, raised arm, ¡°There¡¯s one more.¡± The tiny little creature made a valiant effort; a last ditch kamikaze mission towards the prodigy Rogue. If the creature could talk, or had a mouth, it¡¯d say, ¡°For my fallen Brothers!¡± But it didn¡¯t. Crow, ¡°Oh. Thanks.¡± He lined up his kick at the 20 yard line as the creature ran towards him, laces out. An effortless extra point, he kicked the small creature sending it flying off of the mountains edge. ¡°Aaaahhhhhh!¡± It would have said, but couldn¡¯t. Instead, it tumbled in the sky and fell forever to probably a horrible death 1000 feet below. The exhausted heroes walked toward the staircase, eager to be done with the horrible forest levels; taking in the magnificent view in the process. A great accomplishment was achieved, passing their first true level. The steps were a great dust washed limestone. Massive stones placed by the Gods, leading to the next adventure. Grey approached the steps first, stepping on the first massive stone. ¡°Wait!¡± Crow reached out and pulled Grey off of the step. Stumbling backwards, ¡°What is it, Crow?¡± ¡°I think--¡± He stopped. Damsel followed, ¡°Oh. Come on!¡± The stones rumbled in place. Rocks fell all around them, the door at the top of the staircase turned to rubble. The three took a step back. Makings of the doors crumbled and fell down into the added pile of destruction. A blast of light burst through the opening at the top of the steps. From the light appeared the final test put in place by the forest. Walking on eight spindly legs, carrying the torso of a hideous oozing black poison, and a massive horned skull. Blue flames burned behind its eyes. The massive beast descended the stairs, and approached the heroes. ¡°Seriously?¡± Grey equipped his weapons once again, ¡°Spiders, goats, now¡­¡± ¡°Spider-Goat?¡± Damsel interjected. Silent, only a menacing grin appearing on his face, Crow fitted the ear buds back into his ears. The beast stood in front of the opening, blocking any safe passage. It roared, and the black ooze burst around him just as its predecessors. Grey¡¯s automatic Pixelvision revealed the identity of it:
Protector of Misty Forest Gate Coziosm
  • A twisted damnation born from the poisonous pools of Misty Forest. Appointed as protector by it¡¯s foul creator.
Level: 4 HP 240/240
¡°There¡¯s nowhere to run,¡± the beast cried out. Speaking in a strange tongue, but translated into the Heroes¡¯ party chat. ¡°Entrance to the Misty Mountain is only allowed by my granting. Which¡­¡± The beast laughed maniacally, ¡°is death!¡± Raising his hooved hands in the air, he shot deadly globs of poison which rained down onto the battle ground. Causing a nasty Area of Effect. Grey, Damsel, and Crow all split up, dodging the attacks. Separated, they readied their weapons, looking for any weak points in the intimidating creature. ¡°Uhh, what¡¯s the plan here, guys?¡± Grey tumbled to one side, avoiding another attack. Damsel somersaulted, landing on one knee and firing an arrow towards the beast. It disintegrated on impact from it¡¯s boiling body, ¡°My arrows are useless.¡± Crow, ¡°I can¡¯t get close to him.¡± The young rogue was continually knocked back by the blasts. Frustrated, he could only do his best to dodge the attacks. The poison rain continued to fall, but was futile in killing the agile heroes. ¡°Fine,¡± The best stopped raining horror, ¡°I¡¯ll kill you one at a time.¡± Raising the hooves high up in the air, the heroes were taken off-guard. Waiting for the rain to fall, they looked upward. In an instant, the beast pushed the hooves out in front of his body, releasing a flurry of webs. They hurled towards Damsel and Crow. Trapping Damsel easily, she flew backwards and was blanketed by the silky entrapment. Crow nearly dodged it, as the sticky mess clenched on his foot, tripping him. Then, crawled up his body and trapped his arms so he could not free himself. ¡°Now. You!¡± the beast raised his webbed hooves to Grey. Grey could feel something behind his shield. Some sort of force was building within him. Webbed horror was thrown his way. Instinctually, Grey threw his shield in front of his body. Just as the web approached him, he pushed against the shield, and the webs burst in flames as they came in contact. ¡°Arrghh!¡± the beast angrily stopped the attack. Grey placed the smoking shield behind his back and held the sword firmly in his hand. Some sort of violent adrenaline pumped within him and he took off running towards the Spider-Goat. The once heavy sword felt light in his one hand. ¡°No!¡± The beast once again the rained the poisonous gobs of horror above. But it was useless. With each footstep, the earth below Grey¡¯s feet crumbled and he ran towards the beast with blinding speed. Dipping to his right, he dodged one attack, slicing his blade through the beasts leg. It awkwardly fell to one side, not able to regain balance. In one smooth motion, he spun around to the other side, easily slicing through the other four legs. The great Coziosm fell to the floor wincing in pain, rolling back and forth on his round, legless body. Damsel and Crow released themselves from the loosened webs. Swiping at the tacky webbing on their bodies. ¡°Grey, you did it!¡± Damsel ran to Grey. He breathed heavily, his chest bouncing up and down with each fiery breath. The adrenaline seemed to subside and his breathing calmed to a steady manner. The weight of the sword seem to creep back, and he equipped it back in his Item Screen to rest his arm. Crow ran to Grey, taking out his earbuds in a brief moment of excitement and curiosity, ¡°Whoa, how¡¯d you do that!?¡± Grey had no answer. He stood confused, looking down at the Boss he seemed to have slain, ¡°I don¡¯t know. It just kinda...happened.¡± Disappointed, ¡°Ooof course it did.¡± Crow fit the earbuds back in and turned away. ¡°You guys. The door leading at the staircase is open.¡± Relief chimed in Damsel¡¯s voice, ¡°We probably don¡¯t even need to kill the...GREY!¡± She turned to find Grey¡¯s sword already handle deep in the beast¡¯s chest. Blood pooled slowly out from under the already downed creature, ¡°But¡­¡± A flurry of points dumped into Grey¡¯s Exp. bar. The boss was a worthy opponent and offered a generous amount of experience for an early game foe. ¡°The points¡­¡± He shrugged. Crow, endearingly, ¡°Maybe you aren¡¯t so bad after all.¡± The three ascended the staircase, leaving the horrible forest behind them. One level was down, but many more were to come. More battles were ahead. Evil forces to face; unlikely heroes to rise. The misty mountain was still a daunting task, even for a seasoned hero. They passed through the opening at the top of the staircase, awaiting transport to the next task. The forest level had ascended into cavernous mouths and into snowy facades and dissipated into a mysterious summit hidden by a blanket of mist. Gods know what ghastly beasts would await the three young heroes standing at the foot of the mountain. Grey, Damsel, Crow, all insects compared to the impressive piece of coding that awaited them.