Stealthcaster Read online

  Rarity: One of a Kind

  Lionel smiled as he removed the single clasp holding his cape to his armored tunic and fastened the new object into its place. It glowed softly as he attached it there, a soft, pale glow hovering for a moment, then seemingly soaking into Lionel himself, injecting the mana into his body.

  “My thanks, Gossamer,” he said, echoing Woody’s words, also bowing low in reverence to the small, but powerful creatures. The fae smiled kindly at him, then turned toward Solomon expectantly.

  “And so it falls to you, young one,” she said quietly. “a thanks for what you’ve done for Gallowind and what you’ve done for us. What you’ve sacrificed.”

  Solomon couldn’t wait any longer and fumbled with the neatly carved wooden box, peeling it open and focusing on what was inside. The lid flipped and revealed…

  …a crystal?

  Solomon scowled for a moment, looking up at Gossamer, then back down. Reaching his fingers into it, he plucked it out.

  You have Received:

  Enchanted Amplification Crystal

  Durability: 600/600

  Rarity: One of a Kind

  Quality: Brand New

  No buffs to offense? Or defense? No boosts to his stats?

  “I don’t understand,” Solomon said, once again meeting eyes with Gossamer.

  “Check your Axe, young one,” the fae replied, pointing to the weapon slung in Solomon’s rope belt. Keeping his curious eyes focused on her, he groped at his belt and withdrew the Amazon Platinum Axe, finally peeling his eyes away and focusing on the weapon. He turned it over slowly and with uncertainty as if just looking at the weapon would somehow answer his questions.

  Gossamer swung down, her wings flittering and she pointed toward the hilt of the weapon, a contoured grip formed to the shape of Solomon’s hand, still constructed out of the mysterious metal.

  “Check the pummel, Solomon,” Gossamer said, and he did, turning the weapon over to look at the bottom of the contoured handle. Sure enough there seemed to be an empty cavity of sorts there, a kind of indent dug deep into the platinum, as if something belonged there. Inspiration struck and Solomon placed the axe between his knees, holding it there, then pulled the crystal from the box, and gently pressed it into the pummel of the axe. It seemed to slip in perfectly, and as he pressed it flush to the raised surface of the weapon’s handle, he felt a swift burst of power, a sudden, unexpected charge of energy, so strong that he almost dropped the weapon. Blue light glowed from the handle of the axe, tendrils of pure mana twisting around the weapon, embracing it and squeezing tight, drawing into the metal until the entire axe seemed to emanate with a pale azure glow.

  He felt the warmth in his hand, a rippling energy thrumming against his palm, but when he looked at his weapon’s stats, none of them had changed at all.

  “I still don’t get it,” he said quietly. “What is it?”

  “It’s an amplification crystal,” Gossamer said. “It takes energy and stores it, then redirects it. You can flood the axe with mana power, which can discharge on strike, or use the crystal within the axe to direct raw sonic power.”

  Realization started to dawn on him as he listened to her words, his eyes slowly opening.

  It was a class specific weapon… and his class was StealthCaster. The Journal of Kremjak had done some teaching on the way his new skills would allow him to harness sonic energy and use it for protection or offense. Could this crystal play into that? His mind raced.

  “It will become only more powerful as you get more comfortable with your StealthCaster skills,” Gossamer said, flying closer to him. “It is truly a unique item.”

  “Thank you,” Solomon replied, bowing his head. “You are too kind.”

  “This isn’t completely altruistic,” Gossamer said with a smile. “We are depending on you… on all of you to destroy the Sharak-Ku threat. Our only hope is that these small trinkets play some role in helping you do that.”

  “May we all be so lucky,” Woody replied.

  “Be off with you, then,” the fae said quietly. “To the north. That is where we saw your clan.” She nodded to Woody who nodded back. Sol and Lionel turned and began to walk away, but Woody held back for a moment.

  “Can you answer me something, Gossamer?” he asked.

  “I can try.”

  “Earlier, when you spoke of the Elven village that you shared… the village and its destruction. You thought the Sharak-Ku were responsible.”

  She nodded, questioningly.

  “Are you certain of that?”

  The small winged figure seemed to think about that for a moment, flitting back and forth as she did, until she finally shook her head.

  “I am not certain, no. We never saw them. We were simply awoken one night by the furious rage of these… machines. Equipment of death. Large tracked vehicles, powered by steam and energy. They looked like weapons of pure evil, and I think we assumed they were conjured by the Sharak-Ku. But since that evening we have seen no evidence of that.”

  “I see,” Woody replied.

  “And according to Wiscilla the same sorts of vehicles were what dug up Gallowind and may have set free G’Lorath. The pit fiend was certainly working alongside at least one of the Sharak-Ku, so the connection seemed to make sense.”

  “Indeed,” Woody replied. “Indeed it does.”

  But he didn’t think it did, actually. It wasn’t as simple as that, and it seemed to be the more that humans and travelers were involved, the murkier the whole situation became.

  “Thank you for your hospitality, Gossamer,” he echoed again, then joined his two party members and they walked north, into the trees.

  Chapter 24 - Behold the Harefolk

  * * *

  As Gossamer and the fae had instructed, they followed the path, walking for several hours. Solomon was relieved, at least, that the woods were no longer wet and dark in some places, remaining dry and sun-streaked along their steady northward trajectory, one small blessing in the relatively uneventful trek. While he was relieved for the peaceful journey since helping the fae, he remained somewhat frustrated at a lack of enemies to battle and a lack of XP available to gain. When Megyn had ventured out earlier this morning there had been foxes and giant snakes. Now? Apparently not a damn soul to be found.

  “You are still concerned about a lack of enemies?” Woody asked, sensing Solomon’s frustrations. “The skeletons and scavengers, and the Elven necromancer wasn’t enough for you?”

  “Concerned? No. But these levels seem to be getting exponentially more difficult to achieve. I’d like to get whatever XP I possibly can.”

  “There is more to this than simple XP,” Woody pointed out. “We must find my clan.”

  “I just thought maybe there would be some creatures to grind along the way,” Solomon said.

  Woody looked around as they walked, eyes narrowing, small, black nose twitching almost comically.

  “It does seem surprisingly devoid of life out here,” he said quietly. “As if some sort of darkness still persists in the forests.”

  “You sure know how to make a guy feel better,” Solomon replied. “I have skills I need to develop here. Experience to earn. All this walking around is accomplishing nothing.”

  “I am fine with some peace and quiet,” Lionel said. “After the trip on the boat—”

  “So, about that,” Solomon said. “You were on a quest?”

  Lionel nodded. About a week after we spawned in game. I’d spent the whole week with the Diamond Edge, getting acclimated to my class, doing some weapons training, unlocking my skill tree. Meanwhile, my goofball brothers were at the tavern for a week straight. No wonder they both got killed on the ship.”

  “What made you want to be a paladin, anyway?” Sol asked. “Were you a goody two shoes in real life?”

  Lionel smiled, shaking his head. “Oh, no. I was actually a trouble maker. Always pushing all the wrong buttons. Driving my parents crazy. Half the reason I jumped on the chance fo
r the open beta was because my parents were about to throw me into boarding school.”

  “So, you’re in a pod IRL?”

  Lionel nodded. “So far that’s the only way. The VR headgear wasn’t ready for the beta, there was actually a worldwide lottery for pod placement. My and my two brothers were the only ones in my area of Austria to show interest, so we got in. In some places in the world there was a waiting list of thousands.”

  “I guess that’s what happens when the real world gets so depressing,” Solomon said. “People start looking for ways to escape.”

  “Has it been?” Lionel asked.

  “Has it been what?”

  “A good escape?”

  Solomon had to think on that as they walked through the trees. He’d had non-stop adventure since coming into the game, but as he thought back, he really had to consider whether the experiences he’d had could be considered… fun? It all seemed so real, so life and death, that it was hard to separate the game world from reality these days, and this reality was a tough one. Rugged and challenging.

  “I think so,” he finally replied. “Yeah, I really think so.”

  “Friends,” Woody said suddenly, holding up his empty hand as his free hand clutched the weapon from its sheath. “I hear something up ahead. And smell something. We are not alone.”

  “Ohhh, good,” Solomon said with a quiet smile. He lightly tossed his axe from one hand to another, being a little more careful than he was before.

  Up ahead the forest converged into a thick group of trees, which appeared to be ringing a small clearing where sunlight passed through. Woody dropped low and crept forward, nearing the branches and leaves, moving with a deep and almost unsettling silence. Solomon drew up next to him, with Lionel flanking his other side and they peered through the trees into the sparse section of grass beyond, which just happened to run the eastern edge of the Forked Tongue, though further north than the ship had been.

  A group of Harefolk were there, ten or twelve of them, slowly backing their way toward the water. Each of them was armed with at least a sword and a shield, several of them also carrying bows and arrows, but they only held them, they hadn’t drawn them in any sort of threatening manner. They were frightened, that much was clear. Following their line of sight, Solomon leaned left to look toward the eastern ridge of lined forest.

  That’s when he saw them.

  Three of them. Only three, but the mere sight of them was almost petrifying.

  They were Sharak-Ku warriors, to be certain, their faces and heads angled and rounded like a serpent’s, narrow dark eyes glaring out from within cascading green and brown layered scales. One of them had a flared hood bracketing its head, the same sort of trimming that Rulaaz had, and as with Rulaaz it was a truly intimidating sight.

  But something was different about these three. Unlike Rulaaz, they did not walk on two legs, their humanoid bodies twisted into a scale-covered, sinew and muscle tail, a singular appendage grown out of the abdominals of them, half snake, half men. They had thick, muscular arms like men, broad chests, adorned with various types of armor and strapping. One of them had an ornate and angular chest plate on the right side of his chest, with a v-shaped leather strap pinning it to his muscular chest. His arms were covered with layered tribal tattoos and he carried a vicious curved scimitar in one clamped fist.

  The second was skinnier, but longer, dark brown in color, its tail curled into a twisting coil, its torso covered in a leather tunic with twin shoulder pads. He held two thin short swords, one in each hand, and as Solomon watched, he twirled one of them artfully. The third Sharak-Ku was a pale, vomitous yellow, covered in dull off-white scales, his thick tail clenching and releasing as he moved steadily over the grass toward the Harefolk. He toted a long polearm, a full length staff with a trio of jagged, twisting blades on the end.

  Sharak-Ku Abomination

  Hideous Bruiser from the Sharak-Ku Clans

  Level: 9

  HP: 215/215

  MP: 30/30

  Skills:

  Vicious Bite

  (+30% Chance to Bleed)

  (+20% Chance to Poison)

  Tail Whip

  (+10 attack damage)

  “Abominations,” Woody whispered.

  “Yeah, they’re ugly,” Sol agreed.

  “No,” Woody replied, shaking his head. “They are Sharak-Ku Abominations. Not a pure breed or even a half breed. Typically the races don’t mix. If the abominations are working alongside the upper breeds… we could be in more trouble than we think.”

  Sol and Woody looked at each other, both of them working out what to do in their heads, trying to come up with some kind of battle plan.

  “There are only three of them,” Solomon whispered.

  “The abominations are not as crafty as the other breeds, but they are strong. Brutal. Perpetually angry. I have my doubts that we could take one of them on our own. Three? I… I don’t know.”

  “But your friends… surely they can help us?”

  “I would think so, though they look pretty afraid right now.”

  “Did they not sign up to help us fight the Sharak-Ku?” Lionel asked.

  Woody nodded. “They did, but it is a long story. Sharak-Ku are our natural predators. Planning an organized war against them as a whole is a very different thing than stumbling upon three abominations in the woods when least expecting it.”

  “Well, then what are we waiting for?” Lionel asked, pulling his broadsword from its sheath.

  Solomon shook his head frantically. “No, don’t—”

  Too late. Lionel drew back, opened his mouth and screamed a battle cry as he charged into the clearing, sword raised, hurtling towards the three snakemen.

  Chapter 25 - Strength in Numbers

  * * *

  Solomon had to admit, Lionel moved impressively quick in that armor. In a manner of seconds he was bursting through the trees, his broadsword held fast in two hands, lifted above his head. His voice cut through the arrow with a baritone bellow, a wild battle cry that seemed to take even the vaunted Sharak-Ku abominations off guard.

  The three snake beasts wheeled on him, but Lionel was already in the air, leaping toward the nearest creature, the one with the yellow skin and off-white scales. Solomon had to give Lionel credit, he moved swift and strong, and before he knew it he was coming down on the Sharak-Ku, swinging the mighty broadsword with both hands, raking the blade hard across the creature’s armored torso. Sparks flew from metal on metal and the Sharak-Ku drew back, hissing.

  Only eight points of damage swept from his total, and within seconds, his head was snapping around and glaring at the paladin, both hands moving to the polearm he held.

  Solomon threw himself from the trees, cocking his arm back and activating Axe Throw before hurling the weapon forward. Too late. The yellow Sharak-Ku lurched, plunging the polearm forward and ramming the bladed tip of the weapon up through Lionel’s stomach. It punched through the paladin’s armor with a sparking squelch and went all the way through, bursting from his back in a gruesome splash of dark blood. Lionel didn’t even have time to scream, he just gurgled low in his throat and stumbled backwards, as the yellow abomination ripped the polearm out of the wound and let him fall to the ground, motionless.

  “Lionel!” he shouted as the paladin groaned, and he watched his axe tumble harmlessly past the yellow Sharak-Ku’s sloped head, thumping to the grass beyond. The dark-skinned Sharak-Ku with the tribal tattoos sneered and lunged, sliding across the grass, the scimitar whirling in a swift figure-eight pattern. Behind him, the Harefolk continued huddling by the edge of the river, looking at the creatures, unsure of what to do. Woody didn’t look so unsure. His new boots shimmering in the sunlight, he pushed himself to a loping leap, charging up into the air, drawing his knees to his chest, the Elven necrotic sword slipping from his sheath. He dropped and swung, the tattooed snake man whirling to meet the stone blade with his own black-edged scimitar. The weapons clanged, sparks dancing as Woody h
it the ground in a crouch, planted, and swung again, almost faster than Solomon could follow.

  The tattooed Sharak-Ku was just as fast shifting and spinning, parrying the strike with his curved blade. Stone struck metal time and time and time again, four or five consecutive strikes and counter-strikes all within a few moments’ time. Meanwhile the pale yellow Sharak-Ku moved around the blur of fur and scales, swinging his polearm as he advanced on Solomon, fangs bared and dark eyes narrowed in intense focus. The third warrior held the Harefolk at bay with his two short swords, his thick tail swooshing back and forth as he paced between them and the battle.

  “Little fleshbag,” the yellow Sharak-Ku sneered as it approached Solomon, the long staff-like weapon lowering and jabbing forward. Sol’s eyes focused on the axe laying in the grass several yards away, and he angled slowly right, fishing in his belt for the Demonic Scimitar. He wasn’t nearly as comfortable with this weapon and didn’t much like using it, but beggars couldn’t be choosers and he saw little choice in the matter.

  The polearm swung forward and Solomon darted right, swinging left, barely swatting the attack away, the sword nearly springing out of his hands. Moving with the momentum of the strike, Solomon spun and swung the sword back around, but the yellow snake wasn’t fooled, moving the polearm to intercept, slamming metal on metal. He stumbled with the impact and the Sharak-Ku lunged forward, slashing with the huge, curved blade at the end of the staff, raking it hard down his armor in a vicious diagonal.

  Solomon saw a smattering of his HP fly away with a single swipe as he went down to the ground, barely catching himself with his hands, the Demonic Scimitar skidding away over the grass. Raising high on his coiled tail, the yellow Sharak-Ku cackled, lifting his polearm high, blade pointed down and prepared to strike.

  Not far away, Woody slid under the lunging strike of the tattooed warrior, his sword slicing just over his head, leaving his midsection exposed. With a desperate twist and thrust, the Harefolk buried the stone sword into the meaty flesh of the creature’s exposed stomach, the weapon driving deep within a burst of yellow/green blood and a piercing, hissing scream.