You have reached The Shrine of Muriel.

EXPERIENCE GAINED: 50 points (2,250/2,250 to next level)

“That did it,” Carey said. “Took long enough.”

“Wait ’til you get higher,” Will said. “Point spread widens. Level ups take even longer to reach.”

“Great,” Carey grumbled.

They had spent the past two hours hunting wolves, armadillos, and two panting Elki they stumbled upon, mating in the woods like teenagers on a hormonal camping trip.

“Creepy how realistic some of these animals are,” Carey had said afterward, cleaning his blade against his pants, though there was no Elki blood on the metal. Weapons never got dirty, which was unrealistic. They saw fit to have animals mate, but they couldn’t even make weapons and clothes get dirty over time?

Finally, the best part…

LEVEL UP!

Congratulations, adventurer!

YOU HAVE REACHED LEVEL 3!

YOU HAVE GAINED A HALVA POINT!

“Sweet,” Carey said, sheathing his sword. “What’s a Halva point?”

As if she’d been listening, just waiting for her chance to shine, you-know-who shot out of his Araband and floated in front of him.

“Hi, Carey. It’s me, Ara! I can explain to you what a Halva point is. But first, did you forget about me? Be honest.”

Carey rolled his eyes. He made a rolling motion with his hands that said, Keep going.

“Okay, fine. You asked what a Halva is? In traditional Greek society, a ‘halva’ is a nut-butter sweet. It’s one of the culture’s most beloved desserts. But in Luminether Online, a Halva is a perk that you get to assign at Level 3 and then every two levels after that. Your next Halva selection will take place at Level 5. Exciting!

“Depending on your racial and class selection, Halvas serve to modify, increase, and enhance certain abilities. Think of them as bonus abilities you earn simply by leveling up! Some, like the ‘Intuit’ family of Halvas are available in different specialties to all races and provide new powers, such as identifying enemy strengths and weaknesses.

“You’re ready now.” Ara beamed. “Read carefully and have fun choosing!”

She zipped back into his Araband crystal as if she’d been sucked into his brain through a hole in his forehead. Frantically, like a greedy child hunting through his Halloween candy for his absolute favorite treat, Carey scrolled through his list of skills, stopping immediately at backstabbing.

“That’s the one. It’s enhanced by Agility, and mine’s pretty high.”

“But remember,” Will broke in, “your top attributes, like Agility, will only raise the skill’s base level once you hit Level 5. Right now, the base of that skill is only zero.”

“So, until I reach Level 5, my attributes don’t really affect anything.”

“Eh, sort of,” Beatrice said. “They affect things like Health, Stamina, and Luminether. Also, things like Strength and Agility affect how much damage you do and how effective you are at dodging. Carry weight, armor level…”

“But my skills are unaffected by attributes until Level 5.” He shook his head. “That’s unconventional. And the designers thought this was a good idea because…”

Will and Beatrice looked at each other and shrugged.

“When you reach Level 5, you’ll understand,” Beatrice said. “Having all those effects hit you at once is like heroin. It really makes you feel addicted to what the game gives you.”

“It makes you feel like a god,” Will said with a dreamy smile.

“Still, the point spread is pretty good, even now,” Carey observed, studying his screen, which he made visible to Will and Beatrice as they sat on either side of him to offer guidance. “With a bunch of these skills, I get a 1.5x racial bonus and an additional 20 percent on top of that for being a Rogue. Sounds like a no-brainer which ones I should consider.”

“I agree,” Beatrice said. “...that you have no brain.”

She and Will chuckled at each other. Carey rolled his eyes with a groan.

In the end, he distributed 1 attribute point to Agility, bringing it up to 49, thanks to the 2x racial bonus. He still only received 9 points to distribute to his skills, but he knew it would end up being much more thanks to the modifiers of the skills he planned on choosing.

Backstabbing. Definitely backstabbing.

What good was a Rogue that didn’t know how to creep up behind an enemy and instantly end his life?

He played with it and was content with what he saw. His 1.5x racial bonus brought the number of distributable skill points to 13.5, which was rounded up to 14. His class bonus raised the modified amount—the 13.5, not the rounded 14—up an additional 20 percent, which yielded a total of 16.2 rounded down to 16.

By the time all the bonuses and modifiers were calculated, he’d raised his backstabbing skill to 16. The rating would become much higher once he got to Level 5 and his AGL began to factor into backstabbing’s base skill amount. That meant he could end up raising the total skill to 28 base plus 16, plus whatever new points he added, which could result in a backstabbing skill of 45 or 50 or even higher!

And just two levels from now!

A loud flapping noise erupted above their heads.

Carey put his arms up and rolled out of the way. Catlike, he crouched on all fours and looked up. A massive eagle had appeared about thirty feet above the party and was drifting down out of the darkness. Its feathers were an incredible red-and-gold pattern, making the wings resemble regal tapestries.

“Right on time,” Beatrice said, smiling.

Will was grinning.

“What is this?” Carey asked.

Rather than respond, Beatrice and Will kept their gazes fixed on the eagle as it descended calmly to the ground, landing nearby with a soft click of its talons.

The creature had a sign around its neck that displayed two words stacked on top of each other, written in elegant cursive:

~ SPECIAL DELIVERY ~

“Uh, guys?” Carey approached hesitantly once it became clear the eagle was waiting for him.

Hanging off leather straps fixed around the bird’s body was a silvery sack tied with a red bow. It looked like a Christmas present. Carey studied it—carefully, as though it might contain a firework that would go off in his face—and finally untied it to look inside.

It contained a small potion, the liquid bright blue in its glass flask. The glass was cut to resemble a diamond and sparkled beautifully despite the low light. Fancy. The potion had no visible name or information, only three question marks where a name should have been.

“Drink it,” Beatrice said. “It tastes like mint.”

Carey shrugged. “Here goes nothing.”

He uncorked the flask and drank up.

The effect was sort of like being uncomfortably hot—red-faced, dripping with sweat, maybe after a long run somewhere like a desert—and then suddenly being plunged into the ocean and having a cold, refreshing wave engulf your body. Like heaven kissing your entire being. A refreshment from the gods.

When Carey opened his eyes and breathed again, he found himself lying on his back on the grass, looking dreamily up at the darkness. He’d never felt so chill, so relaxed and yet so energized, so complete, in his whole life.

Heads appeared in his field of vision, Will and Beatrice bending over him. Will reached down to help him up.

“Pretty sweet, am I right?”

The eagle was gone. The flask had fallen from Carey’s hand and lay on the ground, sadly empty.

“Well, that was awesome.” Carey brushed off dirt. “But what was the point of all that? I mean, not that I’d ever turn down one of those again, but…”

“You’ll see in a sec—”

Beatrice was cut off by a notification box that flashed suddenly in Carey’s vision—a seemingly important one, as he had not willfully summoned it from the icon this time.

Congratulations, adventurer! You have been granted a one-time boost to your highest skill’s base rating so that you may receive your first mastery!

The box disappeared with the flashing, glittering, popping of fireworks. Carey immediately checked his skills screen. The backstabbing base level, starting at zero, began to tick upward—slowly at first then faster and faster—until the clicking noises stopped and the skill’s final amount settled at 19. This brought his total skill level to 35.

“They mentioned a… mastery?” Carey said.

Beatrice spoke in a whisper. “Just wait.”

Suddenly, an animation popped into his field of vision, depicting a bandit-like Feral wearing a black mask with holes revealing orange eyes, crouched in the shadows. He was about to stab a passing guard carrying a torch through a dimly lit corridor, the arm and oversize blade bending out of the darkness. But instead of stabbing him outright, the view zoomed out a bit, showing the Feral assassin creeping after the guard, unnoticed, a little ding-a-ling noise playing with each step like a Warner Bros. cartoon.

An animated icon appeared between the Feral and the guard—a simple knife stabbing the back of a neck—indicating an option had opened up to the Feral. The gameplay choice was one Carey found all too familiar from other games in which one could play as a stealthy assassin. Known as a “Takedown,” it allowed the assassin to grab the unsuspecting victim and stick a blade in his neck.

The animated Rogue did just that, silently executing the guard with a well-placed strike to the back, after which he kicked the corpse into the blackened space beyond a doorway to hide it.

Congratulations, adventurer! You have now mastered “Takedown I” by advancing your backstabbing skill to 35. (Next level at 70.)

The knowledge flooded his brain, quickly seeping into the cracks and crevices like water soaking into a patch of dried dirt to nourish the seeds within. Carey imagined those seeds in a hyper-accelerated state, shooting up into huge leafy stalks, because that’s exactly how it felt. Knowledge bloomed. He now understood that you could stab someone through the base of the skull to sever the brain stem, thereby ceasing the victim’s body functions. He knew where the carotid artery lived in the throat, and why you had to have an extra-sharp knife to be able to cut through tough cartilage to get to it. He knew it was probably better, if you were coming up behind an unsuspecting victim, to avoid the hard-to-cut cartilage altogether and stab straight into the neck to the side of the larynx.

He also knew how to do these things to a variety of non-human victims as well. But he was no expert...yet. His current mastery was right around what one might expect from a second-year medical student attempting a complex surgical procedure—still a lot to learn, and you could easily screw it up.

“This is incredible,” Carey said. “Hell of a delivery, I must say. Better than anything Amazon ever brought me.”

“Don’t forget your Halva,” Will said, sounding as eager as though it were his nut-butter sweet yet to be distributed.

The character sheet now displayed a button below Carey’s 3-D portrait that hadn’t been there before, flashing gold in color.

Opening the Halva selection screen, Carey was immediately presented with a colorful representation of a huge olive branch complete with leaves and juicy green olives. It served as more of a background image and was semi-transparent. Overlaid across the image was a network of perks—or “Halvas”—that Carey could study and select from.

If the player selected a skill at the base of a branch, then the subsequent skills along that branch opened up with each Halva level. For example, Carey could decide to choose Black Knife which would grant him sneak attack blade damage x1.25. If he chose that (and it certainly looked worthy) then the next time he earned a Halva, he could choose Assassin further up the branch to upgrade the skill to damage x1.75.

But there were other, more tempting, options. He could go with Quiet, which would make him 10 percent harder to detect while sneaking. The next level was Shadow, which bumped the percentage up to 25. This would be essential, as sneaking was at the core of what a Rogue did.

However, there was also focus, in case he found a bow and decided to become an archer. Focus granted “Sight along bow enhanced x1.25.” The modifier x1.25 must affect his pre-existing ability to sight along a bow, which was a combination of Perception and the archery skill. Also tempting.

If he decided to level up archery next—and, of course, if he managed to find a decent bow and some arrows—he could really make himself quite the deadly assassin by combining backstabbing (to sneak-attack enemies close up) and archery (to get away quickly and pelt the enemy with arrows from a distance).

He went with Quiet. It seemed like the smart choice for now, with Shadow an appropriate upgrade for later.

Now, it was time for a little dungeon crawling.

“This can’t be it,” Carey said.

The party stopped at the door leading into the dungeon, which was overshadowed by a nearby mountain. Hell of a place to put it. Made no sense at all, in fact.

Carey opened his map and cleared the custom marker, removing the blue pin from his vision so he could study the door. It had been crudely constructed with wooden boards and nails, then slapped across a mound of earth. Tilted a good twenty degrees, like a drunken fool about to tip over, it looked less like the entrance to a dungeon—especially a shrine—and more like the door to a temporary shelter created by a hermit.

“This Muriel person must’ve been real small-time,” Will said. “Her shrine be like the ghetto version of a Hobbit house.”

“Door looks like it might collapse inward,” Beatrice said. “Maybe this wasn’t the original entrance?”

“Could be,” Will said. “Someone else—maybe an enemy faction—might have tunneled in, then taken over the place. I’ll bet the main door is heavily guarded. Bea, remember Perthanos?”

She traced a fingertip across the door’s surface, as if attempting to detect a spell. “Course I do. Sargonian church built into the side of a mountain. Red Skull bandits moved in, took slaves, and got their asses whooped by us and another party. Will and I, we went around the secret back door they’d constructed to avoid fighting the Sargonauts out front.”

“That’s one thing about this game,” Will said, admiringly. “Always more than one way to handle a confrontation.”

“Like Deus Ex,” Carey said.

Will grinned. “Exactly.”

Beatrice looked confused. “What about sex?”

“Cyberpunk action RPG? Only one of the greatest games ever made.” Carey blew air through his lips, like a teacher giving up on a hopeless student. “I take it you weren’t much of a gamer, Bea.”

“No, I spent my time hanging out with friends, experiencing the outdoors, and going on dates. Not sure you guys would know much about that stuff.”

Resting his staff against one shoulder, Will made a nice show of stomping past Beatrice.

“You know, sometimes I wonder why we paired up,” he grumbled.

She looked hurt by the comment. Served her right.

Since he stood the closest, Carey yanked the door open by its looped iron handle. “Remember,” he cautioned, as the others entered the darkness. “Stealth is the name of the game. Don’t try to be a hero.”

But as the door swung shut behind him, Carey was hit with the sudden conviction that there were no heroes in this game. He found the thought depressing and tried to shake it off, but the cold, wet, pitch-black darkness that suddenly engulfed him made it more difficult to think positive thoughts.

His senses picked up on several odd scents, one of which reminded him of smoking pot back home. Must have been a weed or vine growing on the walls, which he touched and found they were made of packed soil, at least in this tunnel.

No, this was not the shrine’s main entrance, not even close. Someone—or something—else had constructed it, and rather crudely at that.

“Anyone got a light?” Carey asked.

He had to get himself a torch. Despite his heightened Feral senses, he could not see in pure darkness. At least he wasn’t getting hit with that -2 PER penalty, like the others.

Will blew on the crystal at the tip of his staff, igniting it to reveal a cramped tunnel that only became narrower as they continued through it.

“They’re smaller than humans,” Beatrice said. “Whoever made this tunnel.”

“Some kind of monster bandit thingy?” Carey asked.

Will led the way with his staff. “Probably. Check out these tracks.”

As he lowered the crystal, the others gathered around. Clearly, whatever creature used this tunnel on a regular basis was far from human. It wore no sandal or boot. Its foot did not bear the trademark toes of a humanoid but was, instead, long and narrow, with a sharp claw jutting from the side of the heel and two similar ones in front.

They found a print from a creature that had apparently slept on its side at one point. The markings revealed the exact length and curve of one of its claws. Carey stared at it for a while. Sickle-shaped and about as long and thick as a butter knife, the cruel-looking thing reminded him of the velociraptors from Jurassic Park.

“They can’t be too big,” Will said. “Probably only two or three feet tall, about seventy or eighty pounds in weight.”

“Look at you, Mr. Nature Channel. What makes you an expert?”

“Looking at this print of the body. The information’s all right here. Plus, I took a class in Zoology back in school. For a while, I thought about double majoring in it, along with CompSci, and maybe starting a career in bioinformatics—”

“Christ,” Carey said. “I didn’t ask for your life story.”

“Screw you then, bro,” Will said darkly. “If opening my mouth offends you, maybe you don’t need a spellcaster after all.”

“Relax, seriously. We don’t have time to gab. We need to keep going.”

“Yeah, Will,” Beatrice whispered. “Keep it together.”

Will looked pissed as he glanced at both Carey and Beatrice, the crystal up by his chin, brightening his scowling face.

“Surrounded by a couple of arrogant, white muhfuggers,” he continued, “who think I’m just gonna keep my mouth shut and light their path, huh? It’s this way, Massa Carey, Miz Beatrice,” he said mockingly. “Here, I’ll just draw the monster’s attention away from you. What’s that, you want me to shut up now? Here—I’ll shut up!”

Enraged, he blasted a spell down at the ground which exploded in green light. Foggy alien tentacles rose to ensnare Carey and Beatrice and lift them toward the ceiling, until they were hanging upside down, suspended by them.

It all happened so quickly Carey had to bite down a sudden shout of alarm. Hanging next to him, Beatrice struggled to keep her tunic from slipping down past her waist.

“The hell’s wrong with you?” Carey hissed at Will.

The expression on Will’s face changed dramatically. Now he seemed forlorn, like a kid who had just beaten up the school bully only to find that it was too easy, the pleasure too fleeting.

“The Ensnare spell only lasts 20 seconds,” he said, turning away from them. “Sorry, guys. I lost my temper.”

“No crap,” Beatrice said. “Save it for the monsters, okay, big guy?”

“Yeah, my bad.”

They crouch-walked for what must have been a half-mile until they reached the end of the tunnel. A set of rickety wooden stairs led down through yet another earthen tunnel that sloped deeper into the earth. Only one person could go down at a time, and they made sure to create enough distance between them so as not to overwhelm the boards.

It was like walking on a child’s art project made of Popsicle sticks and trying not to break anything. Parts of it were more like a ladder than stairs, and the occasional board snapped off as though it had been stuck there with glue.

After about ten minutes of descending, a huge expanse suddenly revealed itself, and a world of sounds and echoes came to life. Out in the open, the stairs became a rope ladder, hanging down. Rather than climb down, Carey allowed himself to fall a dozen feet to the ground, so eager was he to explore his surroundings.

It was unbelievable.

He stood on a cliff at one end of a gigantic cavern that seemingly could have fit the entire small town in which he’d grown up. Stalactites as thick as cars hung from the ceiling, tapering down to form stockier stalagmites that were almost as big.

But that wasn’t the most impressive sight. What drew Carey’s eyes immediately—and also served to explain why he was able to see the entire cavern at once—were the jellyfish.

Enormous, floating, glowing jellyfish, like nothing he’d ever imagined, hovered along the top of the cavern, drifting like the ghosts of whales, their illuminated skin bright and pale, with a dazzling mix of colors, like Rainbow Sherbet ice cream, glowing in their bellies.

Beneath these incredible creatures, squatting on the floor in the center, was a pale, ornate, boxy building that resembled an Ancient Greek temple, complete with a stone colonnade in front. It sprawled across the rocky floor, as wide as a supermarket parking lot.

“The Shrine of Muriel,” Carey said. “That must be it.”

Something snapped above him. Will landed with a thump. Beatrice used her wings to glide down.

“Well, there goes our way out,” Will said, holding the limp rope ladder in one hand. “Unless Bea can fly us up there one by one.”

“No way. The tunnel’s too tight for my wings, and it’s too smooth to grab its walls and climb.”

“Some obvious design choices there,” Will pointed out.

Orange eyes flashing, Carey stroked his tail as he considered the situation. “If that fall was scripted, then there must be another way out on the other side. We just have to fight our way through it.”

By then, Will had extinguished the crystal so they wouldn’t be seen. A good move, too. Beatrice pointed at a small-but-blazing bonfire in front of the temple, but there was nobody around it. No objects except a globe-like, cast-iron pot and a few eating utensils that looked crude and alien.

Carey described the scene, since the others couldn’t see that far with their standard human vision.

“Who do you think made it?” Will asked.

Beatrice shrugged. “Whoever took over this place and built those stairs that almost killed us. Carey, use your hearing. See if you can pick anything up.”

Nodding, Carey closed his eyes. Within seconds, another reality took over the previous one—this new, richly detailed world consisting completely of sound and nothing more. He even managed to stop smelling the damned moss and fungi growing everywhere, so completely was he immersed in this realm of aural stimuli.

Some of the sounds were obvious: the low, overhead sucking noises coming from the jellyfish; the faint crackling of the bonfire; the distant echo of a dislodged rock falling and landing.

And then he heard it: imp-like voices coming from very small creatures.

“Gortlodon meat—is such a treat...” one sang, and then the next one continued the song.

“...ee-ven the pelt—I could just melt...”

“Doesn’t need spice—it’s ree-lly nice...”

“Juicy and hot—stir-stir-stir pot...”

From around the corner of the temple, three little beasts emerged, walking upright. They were covered in blood and carried armfuls of raw meat from the slaughtered gortlodon they were singing about. One carried a torch. By its flickering light, Carey noticed the pelt of the gortlodon was pale and tough-looking, which wouldn’t be a problem for the creatures, as their extended, ridged snouts opened to reveal jaws loaded with sharp teeth.

Lvl. 3 Torg Fighter

HP: 75/75

SP: 62/62

LP: 15/15

Carey didn’t bother checking the stats for the other two, which appeared to be just as low-level as the first. The beasties resembled three-foot-tall demons and walked slightly hunched forward, their hairless skin dark red and leathery, like their tails. Two enormous ears, like those of a bat, drooped on either side of their heads, occasionally stiffening in alertness. One even sported a few earrings. Dressed in rags, they wore crude leather armor that covered their chests and shins.

“Let’s cook, boys,” the one with the earrings said. He seemed to be of a higher status and carried his head a few inches taller than the others. A lieutenant, perhaps.

They fished around in a pile of sticks and began constructing a roasting spit. Carey turned to his friends so they could discuss what to do next.

“Would be great if one of us was an archer.”

“How about your backstabbing skill?” Will asked.

Carey shrugged. “Maybe we could split them up, and I could stealth them one at a time?”

“Will.” Beatrice grabbed Will’s arm suddenly. “Do you have any area-of-effect spells in your Sorcerer bag of tricks that could take them out?”

“Let’s explore first,” Will said, apparently a little nervous at having been put on the spot. “They’ll be eating for a while, and this way, we can check out the place, maybe find some loot, some food, see who else is around. We have time, right?”

“I guess so,” Beatrice said.

Carey eyed his hunger and thirst meters. “Food and water. Good idea.”

He summoned a pinkish banana from his inventory, a cluster of which he’d found earlier, hanging from a tree. It was called a Sour Tigfruit and tasted like pink lemonade and a banana had a baby, then dipped that baby in grapefruit juice mixed with a tiny bit of red wine vinegar. (That was another perk of being a Feral: a supernaturally sharp palette.) He ate three of them, replenishing his hunger meter, and drank from his water pouch.

They spent the next thirty minutes quietly roaming the cavern. There didn’t seem to be any creatures apart from the floating jellyfish, which—Carey saw by focusing on one until its stats appeared—were called Onamurshin and were, impressively, between Levels 45 and 80.

Carey was about to maneuver stealthily around a huge stalagmite when Will suddenly grabbed his armor and pulled him back. Carey crashed against him and Beatrice, though neither seemed to notice the impact.

They were looking up in pure horror.