Chapter 4: Finding One’s Feet
A symphony of minor epiphanies struck his mind like hammer blows, heating and reshaping a piece of his mind into a weapon he could wield. Sparks danced across his fingertips. Far from feeling unnerved, Carth felt refreshed. Empowered.
The Seeker, Carth, absently massaged his wrists as he stepped out of the cell, still clutching his manacles and their key. The pain and soreness in this game felt a little too realistic for his liking, content filter or not.
He swayed slightly as the ship plowed through a fearsome wave that knocked it off course and left it struggling to reorient.
Krieg, a [Lvl 6 Assassin], paused in the middle of pulling a bandolier of knives over his leather armor to glare in Carth’s direction. The identifying tag floating over his head included a neutral white health bar, his level, name, and class.
“Ya just gonna stand there like an ikthiodt? Grab some gear!” He shooed Carth towards an unopened foot locker on the other side of the brig.
Carth glanced between Tiloa, already clad in a set of trim blue robes, and Krieg who was still pulling on a set of leather armor, wondering what sort of armor would be waiting for him in his own locker. He stepped over to it, peering out of the lone doorway into the rest of the ship as he did so.
The dimly lit interior was entirely vacant of life. Just crates, barrels, and hammocks. Clothes were strewn about, and oil lamps hanging from clips in the ceiling. As the ship was tossed and turned by the raging ocean, anything not secured was sliding all around.
Carth stepped past the doorway to lightly kick open the third foot locker. Back in the second and third Triskelion Saga game, players were allowed to select their character’s background and receive a starting kit to work with that made sense for them. Carth was half-expecting his vision to desaturate and for a prompt to appear, asking him to select his background.
Instead, the locker was simply empty; once again establishing to Carth that this new game was not quite like its predecessors.
Carth sucked his teeth and nodded in dejected acceptance. Glancing back at his cellmates, he swallowed his pride.
“Uh, guys? Would you mind lending me some gear?”
Tiloa, a [Lvl 7 Archivist], scoffed and glanced into his empty locker. “What, you’re telling me they didn’t arrest you with anything? What was your crime, streaking?”
“I have no memory of committing any crime. As I said, I took an experimental drug and wound up here.”
Krieg and Tiloa exchanged a bemused glance and agreed, “‘Streaking,’” at the same time.
Carth held up his hands, still holding onto his manacles, in defeat. “Alright, you got me. I was streaking. Can you please lend me some clothes?”
“Bah! Nonsense,” Krieg waved over his shoulder towards the disarray plaguing the crew’s cabin, “I’m sure you can find something your size in all this mess. Be quick about it, boy.”
[Quest Updated: Birds of a Feather. Scrounge for clothing before the Archivist and the Assassin leave you behind.]
Rolling his eyes, Carth left the brig behind and stepped out into the crew cabin with his eyes scouring the wooden deck for clothing with as few stains as possible.
He collected a pair of sandals along with the least ratty tunic he could find. Two sizes too big and covered in small holes, it would have to do. Apparently, none of the ship’s crew could be bothered to bring extra pants.
Carth examined his haul and discovered he had found a [Tattered Sailor’s Tunic: Good for keeping the sun off your back and protecting your dignity] and [Hoplite’s Sandals: Good for standing your ground. Insight Status: 0% unlocked]. Whether or not those descriptions translated into actual game stats or not remained to be seen, as Carth still did not have access to any sort of stat sheet as of yet.
The phrase ‘Insight Status’ had him curious. But for now, he focused on getting dressed.
Triskelion took a hefty dose of inspiration from antiquity. Here in the core systems at least, things were very greco-roman. His newly acquired tunic was basically a sleeveless dress built for broad-shouldered men. It covered him from shoulder to knee, and there was a crude belt to secure it around his waist. What bothered him more than the garment itself was the scratchy fabric it was made from.
Note to self, upgrade the drip fluxxing asap.
Almost as soon as he had finished equipping both items (the old-fashioned way), the ship tilted dangerously; forcing him to plant his feet and lean so far to his left that it felt like he was in a gym performing a lunge as part of his warm-up.
Just as the ship started to right itself, it was struck by another gigantic wave; forcing Carth to take a step back in order to remain upright. As he did so he found his way into a rhythm.
He rode the next wave with ease, and the next despite the ship rocking harder each time.
After five or six bouts the ship carved its way into a calmer portion of the sea, and Carth was once again free to roam about the cabin.
Two notifications blinked in his periphery. [Balance Sub-skill, Hoplite’s Resolve, 33% unlocked] and [Focus Unlocked. Read more…].
By focusing on it, Carth expanded the notification about Focus, familiarizing himself with one of the game’s core mechanics in an instant. The sensation was pretty similar to scanning the manual chit on his Dreamcatcher.
His HUD displayed four gray swirls in his lower left-hand periphery, each gaining a color as the game walked him through the basics with a few rapid-fire prompts. Red for health, green for stamina, blue for mana, and white for focus. He could have done with a little more description than the tiny text boxes that he skimmed through, but he had decided to skip the tutorial mode.
Each successful wave that he had managed to stay upright for had granted him a few points of Focus, filling up the white swirl to about halfway. What he could do with it once it was filled remained to be seen.
Krieg wolf-whistled from his vantage point back in the brig.
“Kid’s got some moves! Too bad there won’t be any dance battles on today’s forecast.” The dark little satyr shouldered his way past Carth and moved to the far end of the cabin. “Well? We don’t have all day!”
Carth started to follow but was stopped by a gentle hand alighting on his shoulder. He turned up to see Tiloa’s soft green features peering down at him.
“You have no weapon?”
Carth shook his head. “No ma’am. I was lucky to find these clothes in as close to one piece as they are. All I’ve got are these,” he held up his bare hands and made them into fists.
Tiloa frowned and reached into the ornate satchel slung from her hip to her shoulder. After a second of digging, she withdrew a small rectangular tablet with hieroglyphics etched into it.
“Here. It isn’t much, but I can see you have a trickle of the Flow in you. This should allow it to awaken. If you want my help honing it, let me know once we find our way to safety. For now, this basic spell will have to suffice.”
Accepting the tablet, Carth started to ask what it was when his eyes found their way to the strange symbols. Like a price-gun scanning a barcode, his eyes tracked the swirling patterns of the [Rune Tablet: Jolt. 3/50 uses remaining] and absorbed the information held within in an instant.
A symphony of minor epiphanies struck his mind like hammer blows, heating and reshaping a piece of his mind into a weapon he could wield.
Simultaneously, he felt his mana unlock. Similar to drinking cold water after a hot day, the way one can feel the cool liquid flow from their lips down into their chest, Carth felt a new liquid presence coursing through his body.
Sparks danced across his fingertips.
Far from feeling unnerved by these unexpected sensations, Carth felt refreshed. Empowered.
“What the flux did I just read?” Carth gasped, stumbling back a step. The tablet slipped from his clutches as he did so.
Tiloa reached out a hand and the tablet’s descent halted. A purplish glow encircled it just as with the cell door earlier, and the tablet floated easily into the Archivist’s waiting hand and vanished within her satchel.
“That was a runic tablet. By absorbing its knowledge you have learned a simple but effective spell. You lack the speed or density of mana-flow to be able to cast the spell very often, but you should be able to use it once or twice before we make our escape. Use it sparingly and you should be able to avoid any migraines.”
Carth glanced down at his hands as sparks danced across his fingertips, the mana coursing through his body already reacting to his newly acquired knowledge and begging to be released. A grin split his face as the sparks died down at his command.
“This feels good.”
Carth failed to see the flash of concern cross Tiloa’s face.
“Oi! We need to get going, here! Things are going sideways up top.” Krieg interrupted, reappearing in the crew cabin. The small man was dragging a body behind him.
Tiloa, her face an emotionless mask as she turned from Carth, nodded to Krieg. “Good on you for scouting ahead.”
The satyr shrugged, dropping the body onto the deck. “Two of you weren’t going anywhere, and this quarg,” he indicated the body at his feet—correction, hooves—and used a local slur to call the dead elf a waste of space (in Triskelion, ‘quark’ derogatorily referred to useless particles the same way that ‘shit’ did in the real world. Calling someone a ‘quarg’ was the equivalent of calling them a ‘shitstain’ or other more inventive uses of the root word). The satyr continued, “was snooping about. There are six more just like him in the main hold. Not looking for us. I think they are trying to find something. But since they’re between us and the ladder, they’re trouble all the same. I can handle four or five on my own without raising a fuss, but that sixth one is gonna be an issue. He’s in a bad spot. Think you can take him out with one of your fancy spells?”
Tiloa shook her head. “My mana was being drained by the shackles, I will need every drop I can recover to cast the spell I have in mind to get us out of here safely. Unless you feel like swimming through the Emerald Sea. For the foreseeable future, it’ll be psionics for me and nothing else. And, full disclosure, psionics are not my strong suit.”
Krieg grimaced and shook his head.
Still riding the momentary high of learning his first spell, and sensing an opportunity to learn more, Carter chimed in. “Tell me what to do, and I’ll take out the guard.”
The satyr scoffed. “No offense laddie but it took me years to do what I do. No way you’re going to become a killer like me in ten minutes.”
“I don’t need to be you. I just need to handle one guy, right? Give me some pointers, tell me what to do, and I’ll take him out. Worst case scenario? I fail but I distract him long enough for you to take him out instead. And then I’m not your problem anymore. Win-win!”
Krieg’s eyes narrowed suspiciously and his eyes darted to one side like he was reading something. He sniffed.
“Fine. I’ll show you the basics, only the basics mind you. How you kill him is your business.”
[Persuasion Successful! Krieg has accepted your Quest: Baby Steps, and agreed to train you. But only a little.]
Carth blinked in surprise. He did not know he could issue quests to NPCs. His eyes widened at the possibilities this could unlock for him going forward.
“Alright,” he asked excitedly, “what’s next?”
Chapter 5: Stealth
[New Skill Acquired: Stealth I. Whether you’re picking pockets or slitting throats, the life you’ve chosen requires you to move unseen. As such, this skill is by far the most vital tool in any Rogues’ kit. Use it well.]
A sound drew his target’s attention away for just a moment. That was when he struck.
Carth emerged from the shadows and slashed his borrowed dagger across the throat of an unfortunate Elven sailor. To say that the kill was silent or clean would have been a gross overestimation, but for a first kill it would have to suffice.
Krieg appeared behind the golden elf and lowered its body to the ship’s deck, keeping things quiet so as not to alert the remaining five on the other side of the cargo hold’s hatch.
Not bad for a few minutes of instruction from Krieg, Carth thought to himself.
“Nah. I see you getting cocky,” Krieg began, snatching his dagger back from Carth. “Don’t. I’ve seen cutthroats far outpacing you in skill and talent alike fail miserably when the time comes. I’m gambling on you, boy. Don't flux this up.”
Carth nodded solemnly and followed the Satyr away from the crew cabin. Together they crept down the hall, past the sealed armory, and into the ship’s spacious cargo hold.
Just as Krieg had said, five elves were milling about. They were searching for something. Desperately. Two of them that were further away from the rest held lanterns aloft as they rifled through crates and kicked open barrels with increasing desperation. The other three were benefiting from the light emitting from the hand of the elf who was clearly in charge here.
“Where is it?” One of them hissed in frustration.
Whilst the others were only clad as Carth was, in tunics and sandals, one was clad in gleaming golden-bronze armor. A true warrior in comparison to the lightly armed sailors he commanded. With a giant shield strapped to his back, a sword sheathed at his hip, and a spear balanced in one hand, Carth knew from his time with the original triskelion trilogy that this was an Elven Hoplite.
The magical white flame dancing in his empty hand told Carth that this man was also some form of mage.
The Hoplite stood at the base of the ladder, his gaze sweeping back and forth as his men pulled apart the cargo in their desperate search.
“It has to be here somewhere, keep searching or the Captain will clip our ears!”
Krieg placed a hand against Carth’s chest and pushed him to one side of the cargo hold’s entrance.
In a harsh whisper, he said, “Wait until I’ve taken down the two with the lanterns, then take this,” He pushed a new dagger into Carth’s hand, handle first of course, “and stick it in the armored one’s neck. Do not touch the blade. We clear?”
[Quest Updated: Birds of a Feather: Clear the Cargo Hold of hostiles in order to reach the top deck. Wait until Krieg has dealt with two of the sailors before assassinating the Gilded Hoplite (Optional).]
Carth nodded, accepting the quest update, and took the [Poisoned Shiv] from the satyr.
No inventory screen popped up, so he simply held the blade like it was a chef’s knife and prepared to use it.
Krieg vanished, heading to the left and working his way clockwise towards the first lantern-bearer. Carth dropped low, sticking to the shadows, and began working his way in the opposite direction, keeping his head down behind the stacked crates and barrels.
Only one sailor stood between him and his target. All the others were on the opposite side of the ladder and were Krieg’s problem.
With Stealth activated, the cargo hold lost all saturation except for where the elves were actively looking. A small mini-map appeared in Carth’s peripheral vision with eight dots on it. One was Tiloa, waiting unseen in the hallway behind him. Another was Krieg, currently stalking towards the nearest lantern-bearer.
Small cones of color came out of each sailor on the mini-map, displaying where their attention was being focused. Each cone was subtly different, perhaps broader than one but narrower than another, but all told the same story. Falling within one of those cones while not concealed would get him spotted.
I could get used to this.
Carth slunk behind several crates, ducking low and moving as quickly as possible in the gaps created by the elves’ attention moving from one crate to another.
In his mini-map, Carth saw Krieg’s icon overlap with the icon for the first lantern-bearer momentarily, then the two icons broke apart. Peeking out from behind his cover Carth frowned as he still saw the sailor going about his business with his lantern resting atop a nearby barrel of mead.
Curious as to what Krieg was up to, but still determined to complete his mission, Carth kept moving towards the ladder.
It took three close calls before he managed to make it into position behind the Hoplite. Maintaining stealth despite nearly being spotted was granting him small doses of Focus each time he managed to successfully avoid detection.
Krieg’s icon overlapped with the second lantern-bearer, and a ‘quest update’ notification appeared in Carth’s peripheral that he was too tense to read.
He counted to three and broke from cover, springing from behind a crate and bringing his [Poisoned Shiv] to bear.
Krieg’s rushed instruction echoed in his mind as he moved.
“‘Aim for the unarmored parts. Throat, thighs, and armpits. Understand your opponent’s weaknesses, cut once, and don’t get caught up in a prolonged duel.’” It reminded him of the adage ‘measure twice, cut once,’ which resonated with him well enough.
At the precise moment Carth appeared from behind the crate, a voice cried out from the place where the first lantern-bearer was still rifling through a crate.
“I found it!”
As one, the Hoplite and the two nearest elves’ heads all snapped in the direction of the announcement, giving Carth another precious moment of distraction in which to strike.
He stepped up behind the Hoplite and rammed his shiv into the man’s exposed right armpit. The spiraling blade dug in and stuck.
The elf stiffened, and his light spell flickered twice before vanishing completely. His spear slipped from his fingers and fell towards the deck.
Acting on instinct, Carth reached out and grabbed the spear as the Hoplite fell to his knees and then collapsed onto the ground.
The two remaining sailors both similarly collapsed with darts protruding from their necks, and Krieg emerged from the shadows. With a wave of his hand, the lantern-bearer so proudly holding up a small golden sphere wavered and disappeared like a handful of sand caught in a sudden gust of wind.
Another quest update notification appeared in his periphery but Carth could guess what it said and minimized it, by looking past the icons until they dispersed, choosing instead to focus on what Krieg had just done instead.
“You’re an Illusionist?” Carth realized aloud.
Krieg made a face. “Yeah, mate. I told you and the lass I was a shadow-dancer, didn’t I? Illusion work is pretty key in my line of work.”
Carth shrugged. “Makes sense. I’ve never heard of a shadow-dancer before.”
Krieg rolled his eyes. “Oh, that explains it. Junkie, streaker, no experience with the criminal element? You’re some rich cloud-nymph brat from Nimbulon, aren’t you? I should’ve guessed! Fluxxing airhead.”
Before he could form a reply, Tiloa walked up with her eyes on the ladder.
“Shall we make good on our escape, boys?”
“Hey wiz-chick, check it out. The kid really is an airhead! He’s some rich snob from Nimbulon!”
Tiloa’s lips formed a thin line as her eyes bounced from Krieg to Carth and back. “Somehow I doubt that very much. Regardless, we have a difficult task ahead of us and it would do you both well to gear up. In less than a minute, this ship will be overrun by the denizens of the deep. That will be our ticket out of here, but it will also be decidedly dangerous. Dress appropriately,” she made a pointed look first at Carth’s unarmored form then down at the Hoplite at his feet.
Taking the hint, Carth knelt and examined the elf.
The man had golden skin and white freckles that adorned his cheeks, shoulders, and arms. He possessed a wiry frame and opalesque eyes. Upon closer inspection he was not (as Carth had originally suspected) dead, just knocked out.
As Carth focused upon him a small identifying tag appeared that identified the guard as a [Golden Elf Hoplite] just as he had suspected. A pair of status symbols appeared orbiting the elf’s tag that marked him with the stunned and unconscious debuffs.
In the original trilogy, anytime a player interacted with an inventory, their avatar would bend down and rest a hand on the object/person and a screen would pop up. Recalling this, Carth placed a hand on the elf’s shoulder.
A new notification swirled to life in front of his vision, detailing the unconscious elf’s gear.
He wore a [Cuirass of the Golden Harbor, Set 2/2] which consisted of a sleeveless Elven Bronze breastplate, complete with pteruges coming down from the waist, and a pair of greaves made from the same solid metal.
Wearing both pieces of the set granted a bonus, but only to Golden Elves, go figure.
For weapons, he held a [Golden-Bronze Elven Xiphos] and a [Simple Elven Utility Knife] attached to his belt. The spear Carth had caught was a [Golden-Bronze Elven Dori].
Carth donned the set and sheathed the weapons so he would have some better gear than a light tunic and some sandals. He did not bother with the shield as its strength requirement was too high for him to even lift.
Standing tall in his new armor, Carth now looked the part of a Seeker prepared to go on an epic quest across the Triskelion Galaxy.
