Book 1 – Vikom’s Story

Chapter 2 – If at first you don’t succeed….

After Karol left, Vikom lost it a little bit or else – depending on who you ask – his problems surfaced.

Very few people, including himself, would argue that he was okay, well no one who really knew him.

Anyway.

There are many starter dungeons in every starting area of Xaranya. Of all of them, Castelmara may be the most difficult. It’s definitely one of the most tricky.

For his next … debatably stupid action, Vikom decided to solo this dungeon. Technically, it was a Level 10 dungeon, but this rating was based on a raid team, meaning at least 10 people at a time.

No one (in their right mind) would try to solo that dungeon. Right?

There were raiding parties posted everywhere really. There was no good reason to solo that dungeon when – literally – anyone (and I do mean anyone) could find a group more than happy to take them on.

Like most gyms in the area, Alistra had a changing area, several smaller training rooms and one large, exhibition arena. A single, circular corridor connected all of these areas, and the dirt and stone walls of that corridor held posters of exhibition matches, past, present and future, announcements of special events, and several bulletin boards for community announcements.

Invitations to raiding parties dominated both of the bulletin boards, and Castelmara Dungeon dominated the raid party invites, ranging from notices like Group of 13 seeks [Healer] to Ranamara Guild wants YOU to join our raid parties – ALL CLASSES WELCOME.

Coming back to the arena for the first time after Karol left, Vikom found himself staring at the wall on his way to the changing room, staring at the wall and thinking … no. Of course they didn’t mean him. When they said all classes welcome, they meant [Healers] and [Clerics], the kind of people who had things to do other than raid dungeons.

Which is why those people were in so high demand. No one wanted a lone [Paladin] – or so he thought. In reality, if he had ever asked, a decent tank was also much in demand, but of course he never asked and brushed aside personal invitations as “people being nice.” See above. He was in a bad place.

Anyway, who knows what he was even thinking at the time, why it made sense. But instead of training safely, like he usually did, instead of going to some more suitable dungeon for his first crawl, he decided to head straight for Castelmara Dungeon, the one place he definitely should not go. Maybe he thought he would Miraculously Live or maybe he wanted to die in some more heroic fashion. Looking back, he would say … all of that and more, probably.

Whatever his thinking, that was how he wound up at Castelmara Dungeon as a level 9 [Paladin], standing outside the mouth of the dungeon wearing his armor, with his oversized broadsword sheathed at his back, and he was ready to fight alone. Honestly, top of mind he was thinking “maybe if I die in combat, maybe that will count.” Maybe then he would be free of whatever hell(?) or Purgatory(?) he was in now.

He purposely waited until late at night, when everyone else was asleep, so as not to run across any raiding parties, no one who would ask him inconvenient questions.

If there was a God, and he was starting to wonder about that too, if maybe … his God was now Satan because wasn’t that how hell basically worked? He seemed to recall that Satan ruled hell and then … a lot of things made sense to him, actually.

A lot of things.

Being stuck in deep delusions works that way. A lot of things that make no sense from … what I will label an Objective Third Party Perspective, suddenly make sense to you.

And then, of course, reality has this way of actually hitting you like an actual brick.

For example, here Vikom was, standing outside Castelmara Dungeon beneath a full moon when a shadow passed in front of the full moon and he thought – oh wow, I meant to bring a torch with me.

Have you ever packed for a trip and then when you get there you realize oh wow, I forgot to bring toothbrush and toothpaste? He has a moment of near panic, when the moon stops giving light and he thinks … oh wow, there is light coming from inside the dungeon.

Because the dungeon and the path leading to the dungeon is a high-traffic area with lighting and therefore he didn’t need a torch, but he meant to bring one, in case, and he is thinking about leaving.

But the glowing light from the inside of the dungeon is beckoning him. To his death. Probably.

Then it occurs to him if he dies again, without at least getting to level 10 first, he is going to lose all the experience he has earned up to this point in order to get so very close to level 10. He is less than a quarter of a level away.

This also gives him pause, as it should. His hit points and other stats are down meaning 1) he will be easier to kill and 2) all of his skills will be that much weaker. In particular, as per the rules he gets to keep his Level 10 [Holy Orders] attack buff but at a 20% reduction due to being under-level. Admittedly [Holy Orders] is primarily a benefit to a group wth DPS (high-damage per second) members, but – oh yes – that was also missing from his party of one.

Really, Vikom has not thought this through, at all.

Specifically designed to look Suitably Menacing, the granite arch leading to the dungeon stands twenty feet tall. Above the arch, there’s a single line written in the earth language known as Italian.

The line reads, “lasciate ogne speranza, voi chintrate” which in English means: abandon all hope, ye who enter here, based – oddly enough – on this Italian human named Dante who wrote a three part epic poem about Hell, Purgatory, and Heaven, in that order. The message was written over the entrance to hell, so yeah, probably just as well Vikom had no idea what it said. It would not have meshed well with his current delusional state. At all.

*As an aside, in case you are wondering, the words were picked up by the designer of this part of the dungeon, most of the external elements actually, who found them in a book, thought they were interesting and checked in with an actual Italian person who said, no problem. It would be fun to use that actually. And then they read the Divine Comedy (the name of the very long poem) together and became friends and eventually they both agreed, over wine one night (because Italians and Xaranyans both agree, by and large, when it comes to Really Good Wine) that if anything, they must be in heaven, although it was a stranger heaven than the Italian had ever imagined.

Anyway.

Right. Back to the narrative. If I must.

Vikom stared at the words for a minute, felt the cold granite beneath his feet, because really it was all granite. A chill wind blew through the space, and he … stepped forward and then-

He had never attempted to enter a dungeon before. Therefore, he was honestly surprised to be stopped short by the grid of blue lines and the words that read quite clearly:

“WARNING. You are about to enter a Level 10 Raid Dungeon. It is strongly recommended that you be at least Level 10 or higher. If you are beneath level 15 and in a party of less than 20, we recommend that you do not enter the dungeon at this time.”

He kept walking.

No one was going to stop him. They might warn him – repeatedly – but no one was going to stop him.

He didn’t have to go far before he came in sight of his first room.

Now, in case you are not aware, most early dungeons have spawns that won’t respond until you actually enter the room. This is to give novices a chance to assess the spawns before fighting them.

This room was like that. It held two goblins, just two, and they were both sitting frozen at a table by a fireplace, waiting for him – or some other adventurer – to enter the room, at which point they would probably attack.

Neither of the goblins had visible weapons. They were in fact trash mobs, as we sometimes put it. Throw away monsters designed to give adventurers a run for their money.

These trash mobs had basically no chance against a raid party of any decent size and level. Against Vikom, well, he had the [Appraise] Skill, which he used often against opponents in the arena and it came in handy.

The [Appraise] Skill correctly told him he had no chance at all of winning, not solo.

What happened next should come as no surprise. I mean, this is Vikom we’re talking about.

He applied his two combat buffs, [Holy Orders] and [Divine Grace], unsheathed his sword, and entered the room.

After that, both of the goblins activated at once, one a melee type with a club and the other standing farther-off, with a crossbow. Vikom used [Flash] to stun the goblin with a club while he went after the one with the crossbow and … he actually managed to get that goblin down to less than half of its health while dodging almost all of its attacks. Before the club-carrying goblin unfroze and one-shotted him (killed him with a single blow) to the head.

Then, he died.

Then, his soul separated from his body and floated around while staring at the mound of earth labeled as his body, and then something he did not expect happened.

[Cleric] Fizzlword cast [Resurrection] on him, reuniting body and soul.

Fizzlword was one of those quirky, high-level citizens that lived to the north. A handful of them kept regular watch on the dungeons, especially this dungeon, just in case.

Fizzlword was the one tasked with watching the dungeon that night. In case any of the young ones wandered in and was seriously hurt or … whatever. You never know.

Most nights of guard duty were … boring. He usually brought a book and his two pet gerbils with him. For something to do.

“So…” Fizzlword said, upon Vikom’s awakening outside the dungeon, which he had chosen for the [Resurrection] point. “Have you learned your lesson?”

“Who are you?” Vikom asked, sitting up, rubbing his head.

“Hm,” Fizzlword said, getting the general vibe that Vikom had not in fact “learned his lesson” and would not anytime soon, and honestly Fizzlword had other things he wanted to do with his time, because he had actually gotten to a good point in the aforementioned book. “Come with me,” he added, attaching a [Binding] to Vikom to force him to follow, which he did, all the while picking and prodding at the invisible rope that seemed to be tugging him.

He tugged Vikom all the way back to his [Watchtower] about twenty feet away and high above the ground and invisible from the outside, mostly, unless you were really looking for it meaning with Anti-Invisibility Magic like the [Reveal] spell. Then, he tugged Vikom up the stairs and into the [Observation Deck] where he proceeded to contact other members of [The Watchers].

“Yeah, I have a problem [Paladin] at Castelmara. Level 9. Determined to try to solo the dungeon. Died in the first room.”

Vikom could feel the chuckles from the other side of the magical conversation that was kind of like being on speaker phone.

Did the person know he could hear them, laughing at him? Probably.

Apparently, the other side of the conversation was at a loss for words.

“I cast [Resurrect] on him. Pretty sure he is going to try to go back in again.”

That was … probably true.

“[Paladins],” a musical, female voice said from the other side. “Never learn. I’ll be over in about ten minutes.”

“Oh, thank goodness,” Fizzlword said. “That’s Anazia, a [Healer] who specializes in … mental healing.”

“I don’t need a [Healer],” Vikom said.

“Are you going to try to go into the dungeon again if I don’t stop you?”

Vikom stared straight ahead.

“What I thought. Anazia will be here soon. In the meantime, have you ever seen a gerbil?”

“No,” Vikom said. “What’s a gerbil?”

“Tiny, rodent-like creatures. Mine are called Sami and Blami.” He showed Vikom the small enclosure where he kept his two pets.

“Are they … real?” Vikom asked.

Fizzlword had no idea how to respond to that question. It must be hard to be magically teleported to the real world, to what Fizzlword thought of as the real world, and to have … a lot of unanswered questions.

“Okay,” Vikom said, realizing he was not going to get an answer. “Well, do they bite?”

“Yes. If I try to pet them. Sometimes.” Even as he said the words, he bent down to pet Sami’s head through the metal bars, which Sami allowed. “Today apparently not.”

“May I?” Vikom asked.

“I warned you.”

Sami saw Vikom’s hand coming and snapped out with his sharp teeth. Vikom and his [Paladin] reflexes were faster, pulling out of the way just in time.

“Hey,” he said, kneeling over to peer at the creature eye to eye. Sami gazed back, unblinking. “I’m not the enemy.” Sure you aren’t, Sami seemed to be saying to him with those shiny black eyes and then – the gerbil looked away and curled up on his bed on the other side of the cage.

Silently, Fizzlword loosed the [Binding], confident that Vikom would not even notice, because Vikom was looking at the gerbil, because Vikom was looking outside himself and seeing something pleasant, something that might just be thawing the ice he had for a heart right now.

…

Anazia is the [Healer] on call to deal with situations like this one, so of course she comes over when called. Also, she honestly loves her work, believe it or not.

Most [Healers] do most of the time. Even hating something can be a part of love.

Vikom doesn’t mind having Fizzlword around for the conversation and neither does she, so Fizzlword stays around for the conversation. In other places and times, the conversation might be a therapy session, but for now it is just a conversation.

A serious conversation.

I won’t bore you with all the details.

But, basically, she convinces him to try low-level dungeons and open-field battles in order to level up and then gives him some other career advice, pretty much. It’s a speech she gives fairly often, and if she has any special reservations, she doesn’t let Vikom know any of that.

“Not everyone likes playing with large groups, but you should know that as a [Paladin] your solo options are fairly limited. There is a [Ronin] subclass you might want to look into and I’m going to send that with the information packet. It’s a [Warrior] class technically, but there has been some talk in creating a [Paladin] version of it and you could be one of the first if you’re interested.

“If you don’t feel like the social lifestyle suits you, now is a great time in your life to look at other classes that might suit you better, such as [Ranger] or [Bard].”

“No thanks,” he thought but did not say. He had no interest in being anything other than a [Paladin] and she pretended not to notice that because – he might change his mind. Stranger things had happened.

“You good then?” she asked, mostly in order to hear him say yes, which he did. “I’ll check in on you in about a month, see how you’re doing.”

“Sounds good,” he said. “Can I go now?” he asked the [Cleric].

“Absolutely,” Fizzlword said, and they waited for him to leave, watching him descend the ladder and start to walk in the correct direction before Fizzlword turned to Anazia and said, “What?”

“I looked up his record on the way here and … not good.”

“Not good meaning.”

“This was his second death. I am pretty sure the first one was a senseless one.”

Fizzlword had not had a chance to look at Vikom’s public file which included deaths, time and locations. “Where is…?” he started to ask – before looking it up and … “Oh.”

“Good catch, calling me,” she said. “Who is the [Cleric] in Avalon now? I forget.”

“Aleren,” he said. “She’s only been there for … a few years now.”

“Okay. You might want to loop her in. I think this guy may have problems of that nature.” Anazias gestured up with her chin. “You know, [Cleric] stuff.”

“You do realize God doesn’t live in the sky,” Fizzlword said, drily.

Anazias laughed even more drily. “Welcome to Xaranya.”

*Actual author aside: Part of me thinks chapter 2 should be chapter 1 or any of the many chapters and possible main characters I decided to cut before chapter 1. Deciding where to start a story is almost as hard as deciding where to end one. That said, I feel as if actually posting *something* is helping me get out of my own private gerbil cage for a minute – or something. I feel better anyway. Yay. Also yes, I am still not sure what I want to do about verb tenses with this one. I am really bad at making up my mind sometimes.*