Thane emptied his sixty-second sack of Gold Ore into the Hall’s storage chest. Crystals shone a blinding golden-white for twice as long, a wonderful sign. He checked the contents and found 2104 Gold. Ten more trips to the Mine, one trip saved.

He kneaded sore muscles in his arms and back, regaining fourteen stamina points, then headed back out. And let’s see how that Quarry is coming along…

Progress: 403/415

Coming slow and steadily.

Within a perpetually billowing dust cloud, stone shingles fixed themselves onto a long single-story building’s roof—an office, a place for workers to slack off. Or for someone with the Overseer profession to keep watch over the steep, terraced mining pit. Two magical stone cranes towered over the hundred-feet-deep pit, both lifting Stone Blocks to the stockpile. The great advantage of Quarries was their effective zero construction cost minus Gold and crystals; all that excavated stone had been plenty for the office and cranes.

Larac sat on a Block and put hammer to chisel against another, rapidly shaving off a shingle as though the stone were soft as wet clay. He threw the shingle over his shoulder, and it floated to the office’s roof. After throwing two more shingles, Larac put down his tools as the Fiend Stonecutter climbed out of the pit with a face of menace.

They exchanged a dozen words. Dust and poor lighting hid their faces, their lips, but Thane caught a few words. Hunt. Dangerous. Blood. They were both close to 70% hunger—four hours had passed.

Plenty of time left.

Apparently the Fiend didn’t think so. It pushed Larac aside, jogged toward Thane. Out of breath, it said, “Need blood, master. Let’s hunt.”

“You’re at sixty-eight percent hunger,” Thane tactfully said. “That’s eight hours before you starve”

Frustration hissed through its fangs. “Need blood!” Its nails slashed, three marks on a stalagmite.

Thane glanced at the stockpile, examining.

Open Stockpile

137 Stone Chunks

29 Stone Blocks

Each Chunk should split into two Blocks at base magical efficiency, and it appeared that Larac was now also a Stonecutter. The Builder’s Hut could be started in the next hour.

“Construct the Hut next!” Thane yelled to Larac, then placed a hand on the Fiend’s shoulder. “I’ll be back with a big bloody corpse. You stay here. Keep cutting stone.”

The Fiend seemed mull it over, wanting to go as well. It growled, “Yes, master.”

Thane fetched his Mana Lamp from the Gold Mine, left the sack there, and ran to the cave entrance. A piece of the Kobolds’ Barricade was equipable as an improvised, statless shield. He shined light up the stairs and didn’t see the wooden board. Worry tingled in his nerves. He unsheathed his Blacksteel Wand, silently climbing step by step. Nearing the top, he sniffed… but no new scents were in the air. The board had been strewn ajar—not flipped.

Claw marks dug into one edge.

A beast had visited, too fat for the stairwell though skinnier than a cave tunnel four yards in diameter. Maybe a lion, but it was still dark out, so it had to be their bobcat cousins. A mutated bobcat; the marks were a bit too wide. And a number of large, nocturnal reptiles roamed the Seidrac desert, many of which grew claws. Also overgrown birds.

Thane weighed the risks. At worst, his corpse would be something’s dinner, and he would respawn with his items. A smarter beast may loot him, but this was a low-level region. Relatively low. Once again, that Human settlement was radiating influence. If Kobolds had spawned, then chances were that something else also had.

Nodding to himself, Thane exited the cave and stowed his Lamp. A light drizzle had dampened the ground. The dark clouds had passed on to the left horizon. On the right horizon, under the moon, light tinted the sky, the sun less than an hour from rising. He double-checked his character sheet, rereading Vampire’s race description. As he remembered, sunlight merely weakened him.

Not seeing any beast tracks, he began climbing.

There, three and a half miles down the dry river by a small Spring, antelopes slept, a sad group of eight or nine, a dozen at most. They must’ve strayed from the main herd; that, or they were new-spawns. Killing them may wreak havoc on the ecosystem, and the overworld AI was known to be especially punishing in this regard. Or especially annoying. The last thing anyone wanted was a tumbleweed storm.

But snagging one for breakfast was fine.

Thane was about to hop down a ledge as dawn broke. Sharply he inhaled in stinging pain, his vision blotching. Strength drained from his limbs. His body felt thirty percent heavier. He summoned his shield, covered his face. He started climbing down with one hand while his head swam in sleepy fatigue. He pressed on nevertheless. A hundred feet above ground, he almost slipped and fell. He hoped his health regeneration rate was also gimped by thirty percent, but he suspected worse. Landing on two feet, his joints ached, and a scratch on his finger partly confirmed his suspicion; Vampires healed at less than a tenth of their normal rate in sunlight.

The cave’s darkness beckoned with a refreshing air current. He muttered incoherently, turned, and ran down the valley. By the hundredth yard, his stamina bar was missing ten percent, more than twice the usual drain. He hadn’t ever played a character so physically weak in any virtual reality game. In any game, period. No wonder Synaptic wanted him to beta test Vampires—they were too damned lazy to properly balance the game themselves.

After two miles of misery, Thane’s knees folded. He crawled under a rock arch. A pocket of shade helped, the sting on his skin fading, slightly. His stamina regenerated close to normal rate, but the instant his face left shade, regeneration slowed to a slug’s pace. The sting returned with a vengeance.

I’m crippled under the sun!

And it was going to be worse midday. Eastern hills buried most of the dawn sun, only slivers of eye-gouging light stabbing through. Weakened was a criminal understatement. He was going to be roasted to a char. He roared through gritted teeth, breaking into a sprint toward the next shade pocket.

He made it with twenty-three points of stamina left, his neck on fire, sunlight abruptly brightening. The world heaved. He gripped his knees, his untrimmed fingernails digging into his skin. Hope retreated into a cowardly region in his mind. The suffocating feeling of claustrophobia clamped his throat even though he was standing in a wide open space. He couldn’t move an inch from this receding shadow.

Desperation forced him to his friend list.

[Offline] GM_Cade

“Fuck!” he bellowed and sprinted to a tall spoon-shaped rock with an oval hole at the top.

Something roared back at him. A lion. It roared again, declaring this was its turf and hunting ground.

Lion (Level 3)

Sentience: 18

Health: 89

Stamina: 132

Mana: 32

“Come get some!” Thane hissed, throwing a stone, missing by miles.

Wind carried a peachy scent as the lion roared a third time, louder—final warning. It took a step forward, its tail swinging back and forth. It was starving for a bite of Vampire meat.

Thane raised his wand.

The lion charged. Powerful muscles flexed. Fur rippled in the wind. What a majestic beast, a mount fit for a raid leader, a familiar that only the most stubborn players were bonded to. Ferocity on four legs.

A max-power Mana Bolt broke the lion’s teeth. Flesh and blood vaporized. A pained cry vibrated in Thane’s bones, and the lion lunged with everything it had.

Thane stepped into sunlight and was blinded—stunned in a million degree sear. Two hundred pounds of virtual mass pinned him to the ground. Claws tore into his ribs and gut. The pain, although reduced in this world, was truly humbling. And for the first time he bled, just a dribble, for his heart did not beat.

As the lion sank broken teeth into Thane’s shoulder, he shot a Bolt through its heart.

Darkness eclipsed the sun.

You have died! Since you are under level 10, you have not lost any experience points. Respawning in 89 seconds…

He savored every second of unlit soothing peace. Like all good things, the respawn timer ended too soon, so he stayed inside his coffin until he was mentally prepared for the burning light. He breathed in through his nose, out through his mouth, telling himself that none of this could really hurt him. He was safe inside his artificial brain, his metal body.

He was ready.

The coffin lid opened with a protesting groan, as though it wanted to keep him safe. Soil fell inside, followed by the cursed light. He hauled himself to his feet, ignored the sting, fixed the camouflage, then sprinted down the dry river while making stops at every spot of shade. Sheer willpower fueled him.

And before he knew it, his skin was cooked to a fine crisp and he was panting over the lion’s corpse. The peachy fumes were heavenly, ten times better than Kobold coconut. The lion had lost gallons of blood, but for a corpse of this size, there was plenty left to feed three Vampires. He refilled his Enchanted Flask six times over, guzzled each ten ounce serving.

No surprise, fresh blood in his stomach fended off the sun’s holy magics exceedingly well. He dragged the corpse all the way to the cave with only minor discomfort. As the cave’s maw swallowed him, something moved at the top of his sight. Circling vultures.

At the stairwell, he hollered, “Get up here, you two! Breakfast is getting stale!”

Larac was here first. A feral grin exposed sharp teeth. He dug in, sucking blood from a hind leg.

The Fiend Worker was right behind, expressionless, mesmerized in the sweet smell. He went straight for the neck and promptly discovered little blood was left in that area. He shifted to the lower back, left teeth marks in the neck. Where they bit, flesh wasn’t dissolving. No venom, surpsingly.

Eh, it makes hardly any difference. Thane inwardly shrugged and headed back out.

Larac asked, “Master, where are you going?”

“I have to clean up a blood trail.”

“Apologies, I wasn’t thinking.”

Thane didn’t blame him. This was their first drink.

At the cave’s mouth, he ducked behind a stalagmite. By atrocious luck, two short humanoids with greenish-brown complexions were on the trail. More Kobolds. These were the scaled variant, hardier and smarter—but less agile. They were equipped in crude animal skin armor. Antelope skin.

Kobold Swordsman (level 3)

Sentience: 89

Health: 132

Stamina: 88

Mana: 102

Kobold Ranger (level 4)

Sentience: 87

Health: 135

Stamina: 90

Mana: 102

Thane gripped his wand so hard that it would’ve snapped if it were crafted from wood. This may be the end of his settlement.

But, thank the gods, they decided not to follow the trail—leaving for backup. They marched downhill. They slipped behind a cluster of rock formations a thousand yards away. Their base was under the mountain which he had climbed on the treasure hunt. This was Kobold valley. An infestation.