Chapter 9: The Abandoned Manor

Up close, the building was even more frightful than it had been from outside the walls. There was a notable change in the air when we moved through the gates into the grounds of the manor, long since overgrown. Hedges and topiaries had lost their shape and grew unevenly upwards reaching for the absent sun’s rays. As we wandered the crumbling tiled walkways, we came across stinking fountains filled with murky standing water and birdbaths choked with mouldering leaves. We moved slowly; I was taking the lead, my stats replenished giving Glitters a well-deserved rest. Fiona was scouting ahead, a behaviour that she executed efficiently and unbidden, as if done hundreds of times before. For all I knew, she had. She was a veteran like Fizzle, I decided to ask him about it after we logged out today.

As we arrived at the steps to the raised decking that ringed the building, we looked up at the intimidating structure. The once-white walls were now faded to grey, mottled with mould and some parts had crumbled away revealing the undressed stone of the walls beneath. There were thick hewn timbers of treated wood; black in colour; infested with thick cobwebs; streaked with water damage. As I’d mentioned before, it was three stories high, the highest story being part of a weathervane topped tower. It looked a bit like a barn or a church. The boarded-up windows had sturdy, intricate iron bars on their exterior. I contemplated our entry. We had a key, but Fiona had not stated what door it unlocked. In front of us, sagging wooden steps lead up to the balcony and a wide, peeling set of double doors. The windows of the doors were similarly barred as the ones built into the walls with their black timber fittings. Though these windows were not boarded up like others, they were filthy and broken, some sort of ragged, faded embroidered fabric fluttered in the breeze, likely the remains of once fine curtains. Fiona was leading the way now, choosing to skip over the steps to the deck’s landing. She pulled the bronze-coloured key from her obscured inventory window and tried it in the locks of the front door. She fiddled for a moment then swore like a spacer, turning back to us she hopped back down.

“It’s not a fit,” she complained, looking annoyed. “I also got a notification informing me that it’s barred from the other side so it’s likely the dungeons’ exit.”

“Hmm,” Fizzle mused, stroking his exceedingly long goatee in a very 20th-century villain fashion, eyes scanning the decking. “Given that you two are massive freaks, no offense, you didn’t notice the windows under the decking, there’s probably an entrance for the help round the back.”

We circled the house, finding weed-infested flower beds, the original flowers now just decaying matter beneath the thriving weeds. Stunted dead trees that had long since outgrown their pots lined the path towards a wide and sprawling garden section and a large greenhouse, which we avoided entirely, getting a heavy sense of foreboding from its shadowy green interior. We got there in the end. At the back of the house we found a set of well-trodden stairs leading down to a plain, but clearly still decaying, door. The key did indeed turn out to be a fit for the lock and Fizzle took a moment to beam up at us smugly, pink eyes sparkling before he strode through the darkened servants’ entrance and into the building proper.

The air inside was musty and stale to my orcish senses, my ears strained to make out any noise aside from the footfalls of the party. I could see the trail Fizzle had left in his wake as he had stridden through the halls ahead of me; his robes had cut a furrow into the long undisturbed layers of dust. Every piece of furniture, painting, container, or ornament bore the same thick layers of dust, webbing, and decay. It was clear that nothing in this house had been touched in a very long time. I followed the trail left by Fizzle in the dust, being careful not to disturb anything. The crypt-like feel of the place was unsettling to me as culturally we burned or composted our dead without much ceremony, unlike our Earthling ancestors. As such, I was unsettled by the ghostly vibe of the place. I shivered and was glad when Baruu, seemingly sensing my discomfort, floated closer to me, briefly leaning into me in a comforting manner as if to reassure me. She stuck close after that. Then again, maybe the runty little creature was just as scared as I was and was coming to the perceived protection that her scary-looking master offered.

We crept down the short hall like a group of thieves. Fizzle had disappeared but the receding violet light shed by his monster, and the parts of the floor his robes had wiped the dust from, revealed his path. Fiona and I picked up our pace when he squealed from the other room. Rounding the corner and shouldering my way through a partially open door making enough a noise to raise the dead. Fizzlewiz whirled on me, wand raised and eyes wide in startled anger. When he recognized that I had caused the noise I watched him hesitate for a moment, eyes sparkling with the thought of mischief but as Fiona rounded the corner her daggers drawn, he thought better of it.

“What the fuck was that?” She demanded, stomping towards Fizzlewiz who shrank back at the advancing angry human woman.

“W-What was what?” Fizzle stammered, looking incredibly confused.

“We heard you squeal dude,” I informed him, scratching at my bald head.

“First of all,” He scoffed, raising first a finger and then an elaborate looking candelabra. “I don’t squeal, secondly it was this. It’s a relic grade item, check it out man.”

He tossed the candelabra to me; his throw went wide, but I snatched it out of the air before it got damaged. Or damaged someone, I thought to myself as I felt the weight of the thing. I gave it a casual glance to admire its design before an item window could open of its own accord. It was about two-feet-long with a clawed base, the upper portion which consisted of two sconces set in the hands of a bronze woman, she was naked but it was done tastefully enough not to be considered crude. I inspected it properly then and the item information popped up.

Forgotten Candelabra

Item quality: relic

Use: A catalyst to be used in the creation of a mimic species creature. If consumed by a mimic, the mimic will learn to take the form of this ornate candelabra.

Size: small to medium.

I shrugged and handed the item over to Fiona who whistled appreciatively as she read over the brief item description, then she handed it back to Fizzle. I knew what a mimic was, but I failed to see why this was impressive. Compared to the monster stone that dropped for me, this item could only be deemed as valuable if the player had a mimic creature or stone.

“So, get on with it,” Fiona urged Fizzle as she handed back the magical candlestick. “Give the species stone and the candelabra to Violet and see what happens.”

Fizzle seemed to hesitate for a moment, torn between disappointing Fiona and his planned build for Violet. I knew for a fact he had sent over a bunch of rare stones on the first day that allowed his creature to have the apparently rare hex affinity. He turned the item over in his hands a few times before speaking.

“There’s no rush right now and I sort of had plans for Violet’s progression.” He admitted hesitantly. “Besides, this is a plant and undead themed dungeon there’s no point evolving her just yet.”

As a debate sprung up between the two as they brainstormed a later mimic build for Fizzlewiz, Fiona not wanting the item and I not being particularly bothered, we decided it would be better used in the hands of a veteran player rather than a noob like me. I stayed near the door as Fiona and Fizzle began turning over the small kitchen, he had led us into. I looked back into the hall, there was another door across from us, the dust lay as it had for who knows how long in front of it.

As my friends’ debate turned into good-natured ribbing, I felt the skin on my scalp prickle, a low growl rumbled deep in my chest as the sense of unease grew. Backing up into the room I closed the door behind me then turned to my friends and their small pile of coins and dusty potion vials.

“We should keep going,” I told them as I went through the motions of tying my shield in place.

“Why, what’s up?” Fiona asked, depositing another handful of coins on the growing pile, whilst I paused to check my axe would come free if it was needed.

“Just a feeling,” I told her, glancing nervously at the two other doors in the kitchen that we hadn’t checked in the party’s looting frenzy. “Somethings making the orc in me pay attention.”

“Tank sense,” Fiona nodded, “People who spend their time at the front of the group get a sense of the pacing of encounters. I knew a guy once, my old raid leader before I got into PVE. It didn’t matter what new dungeon was spawned or newly discovered, the dude just sort of knew when things were about to get bad.”

“Okay sure, mess with the noob” I snorted stalking towards another door across from the one we had entered.

“Nah dude,” Fizzle said, emerging from within a cabinet, arms full of potion vials. He hopped out and put the potions down on the remains of a chair. “PVPers talk about the same sort of thing. Those who do the trench fighting talk about knowing when a push is about to come, or infantry when they’re about to be ambushed.” He dusted himself off, turning to face me, tiny hands-on small hips. “I’ve felt it a few times every time shit hit the fan, remember that rout I told you about a few weeks ago?”

“Maybe, why?” I asked, bracing myself for a fright as I hauled open the door, the insides were just web laden shelves and little else, some dead spiders maybe. I turned to him and nodded recalling the conversation. He had been both pissed-off and excited. He had railed about how his beloved Magebane hydra, Lord Snorg, had been pulverized by some sort of siege weapon before waves of the enemy factions broke upon him and his teammates. While it had been a wipe for him and his men, he had chattered excitedly describing the screaming sound of whatever had obliterated his hydra. He explained that technology during war games could get insane and theorized that Snorg had been killed by an ancient war engine called ‘artillery’. Thinking of Alber chattering happily did much to put me at ease. The anti-climax of the pantry had helped too.

I turned back to my friends who, now satisfied they’d found everything they could, were dividing up the pile of coins and what turned out to be healing potions, still good for use despite their apparent age. I collected my share then told them about the two doors. It was decided that it would be best if we continued down the right-hand side of the building and so we moved on, slightly richer and better equipped to handle whatever the dungeon had in store for us.

As I passed through the last door in the small kitchen, the prickling sense of dread returned. We were being quiet again; the sense of unease had built with the noise my two companions made as they disturbed the sanctity of this long-forgotten place. I found I was constantly reminding myself that this was just a game and that I was safe in my hab unit. We progressed through a larger storage area of some sort that dominated most of the bottom floor, I noted, with walls and floor of undressed stone; no beautification had been invested in here. It was dark and filled with a musty stink. The lights cast by the veteran’s creatures were enough to cast shadows dancing all around us. There were piles of chairs, stacks of barrels, towers of rusting washtubs, and other household items one would expect to be in homes hundreds if not thousands of years ago. At the far end of the room, a large set of double doors greeted us, and upon trying the handles I found them unlocked and they swung open on silent hinges. My scalp prickled, as Baruu lowed gently from behind me, questioningly. I readied my axe and proceeded into the next section of the dungeon. It was a stairwell, a wide set of stairs that ascended a couple of flights and terminated at another set of double doors.

“Anyone else a bit weirded out by the lack of monsters?” Fiona whispered, nervously toying with her daggers as Glitters hovered closer to her, shifting to soothing pastel lights.

“Now that you mention it,” Fizzle breathed back at her, nervously toying with his beard, watching me climb the stairs. “It is a bit weird, almost like just before a boss monster, but that guy, Falstad, at the front was definitely a boss monster. The map does state this is part of the dungeon. So, it’s really fucking weird there’s nothing here as well.”

Atop the stairs, my friends reluctantly following behind, I felt a chill; I wasn’t sure if it was just me getting spooked some more or if the air was getting colder. When I grasped the handle, it was nearly cold enough to burn and it stung, dealing a single point of cold damage to me then, as usual, the pain faded rapidly. I turned the handle and pushed the door open, my breath coming in great steaming clouds.

The door swung open a few inches then hit resistance, I grumbled as the others began climbing the last set of stairs to me. They were close enough so that when I shoulder checked the door, they saw the trap spring, I didn’t know what hit me. One moment I was opening the stubborn door then there was a thud and I was on the floor, head aching and a quarter of my hit points gone. I sat up, then very quickly decided that I was going to stay sitting until everything stopped lurching and spinning. Fiona appeared in front of me, her mouth was moving but all I could hear was a high-pitched laughing. She pressed something smooth and cool to my lips, I swatted her away. A notification popped up.

You have suffered blunt force trauma to the head, you are concussed. Rest or seek healing to recover from this debuff.

She was back again, pressing the cool wet thing to my lips, I grumbled and tried to get away, but my back was literally up against the wall. I gave in and drank; it tasted somewhat familiar, I realized. I knew it was a good thing though, the red bar filled back up, the concussed message went away and things made sense again. I jumped up and looked around for the creature that had ambushed me, bellowing a challenge into the empty air. The laughter grew even harder and even Fiona giggled, shaking her head at me.

“It was a trap, you triggered it when you forced the door open.” She soothed, shooting a glare at Fizzlewiz, a thrashing heap of brown robes and green curls in hysteric laughter.

I grumbled and kicked him, not hard enough to injure the squishy little bastard, but hard enough to get him to stop laughing. We found ourselves in a wide ballroom. Honestly, it was the only way to describe the empty decorative room, large windows dominated the exterior wall, a large grimy mirror hung above an inset fireplace, the ashes in which had long since grown cold. The other wall, one that lead into the house proper was lined with multiple doors presumably to allow revellers move between sections of the house. No one was socializing now though. As with the below ground floors, everything had a coating of webs and thick layers of dust. We crossed the room quickly, growing more uneasy about the distinct lack of monsters.

“Is there a chance someone came through before us?” I asked quietly as we explored the entrance hall to the house, discovering the locked and barred front door we had tried first and a large sweeping stair case that ascended to the second floor above, which looked down onto the foyer below.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Nah, dungeons are a separate dimension to the outside game world,” Fizzle explained, putting on his professorial voice that I liked to associate with when he was going to explain something of interest to me rather than his usual rambling tirades. “That means whenever a party goes though those two trees back at the start, they’re put into their own personal pocket dimension to run the dungeon without competition. There used to be some real bloodbaths back during launch.” He sighed wistfully. “Any time a dungeon was found, the entire player base went apeshit, killing each other over the monster tags or access to the dungeon. It’s why PVP became the norm in the game, not many people bother with PVE anymore. Those that do are typically looked down upon by PV-”

A low rumbling growl cut Fizzle’s explanation short. My head snapped towards where I thought I heard the sound come from, but there was nothing, just an overturned umbrella stand, crumbling walls, and mouldering curtains of the windows. I scanned the room; Fizzle had his wand in one hand and a ball of fire in the other. Fiona was gone but Glitters was flashing angry colours floating towards the centre of the room, I readied my axe then shooed Baruu into the air where she would be safe and could shred our enemies with blades of wind with impunity. I noted her casting the tailwind spell one me with its signature encircling breeze, a moment later Fizzle’s robes fluttered and Fiona’s hair danced. I moved forward, shield and Kindler’s axe both raised. I beat my shield as I advanced to join Glitters in the centre of the room. I kept my back to Fiona’s monster and watched the motionless expanse. There was a crackling sound then a whoomph I had learned to associate with a detonation firebolt, I turned to the noise. There was a circular burn mark and the dust has been stirred up by a spell, I glanced to Fizzle with a quirked eyebrow.

“I saw something,” he hissed at me from beside one of the many pillars that supported the second floor’s walkways. “The-”

But I didn’t hear what he said, something had collided with me briefly, knocking me to my knees, a cold sensation passed through me. What in the Outside was that? I glanced at my bars, a chunk of my HP was missing, as was at least an eighth of my stamina bar. I got up and looked around. All I could see was dust and debris, our crisscrossing footprints and animal tracks. I froze. Paws? None of us had paws, Baruu was the closest but she had hooves and mostly floating along thanks to her Cloudstirde ability and never really settled on the ground for long I had noticed.

“Paw prints.” I said, “Can monsters be invisible?”

“Yeah dude,” Fizzle replied as he ran for another pillar, sending a flurry of arcane bolts and firebolts into the empty hall. “The problem is, this thing moves around without disturbing the dust unless it’s attacking someone. It’s a big fucking ghost dog or something.”

I nodded and put my back against Glitters again, it was hard like stone but it had a gentle warmth, it was nice. I reflected on this, drawing comfort from it as I waited for the next attack. We needed a way to see this thing or, better yet, force it to remain corporeal long enough for Fizzle, Fiona, and the monsters to slaughter it. Psyching myself up, I triggered a Challenging Shout, spending another of my dwindling Ki points. I waited, there was a growl and then the creature appeared, like something coming into focus.

It was large and comprised of a soft blue energy that behaved like smoke or flames. Two angry white lights burned where its eyes would have been. Its spectral teeth bared at me, ectoplasmic drool dripping from them and foaming at the corners of its curled back lips. Calling this thing a dog was like calling a dinosaur a chicken, a massive fucking understatement. As it coalesced into existence it grew, as though it was done just trying to scare us off. I focused on it; a name bar accompanied with the golden sword icon appeared above the spectral hound.

Yeller, Guardian of the house. Level seven.

I roared at it. It wasn’t infused with my Ki; it was just a good old-fashioned war cry. It lunged at me and I swung my axe in retaliation figuring that if it was just going to pass through me, I might as well get a hit in. As expected, the axe head passed through the huge canine but as it did the head smouldered briefly. Its jaws, clamped down on me again, only this time it kept hold of me, bearing me to the floor, shaking me. With each shake my HP sank, dipping below fifty percent when the beast finally released me, forced back by a barrage of spells. I took the time to chug a potion getting me back up to around eighty percent health then checked the combat log.

You attacked with Kindlers Axe.

Yeller receives zero slashing damage and four points fire damage.

You receive 12 points necrotic damage and 2 points piercing damage

You take 5 points necrotic damage

You take 3 points necrotic damage

You take 7 points necrotic damage

I minimized the log and got back to my fight, stowing my axe, and readying a Gem Shot. I yelled out to my companions.

“It’s immune to physical attacks, I think. My axe only dealt it’s fire damage.” I told them, then looking up at Baruu. “Any time Ruu, use Wind shear.”

Baruu bellowed and began tossing her little head furiously as my companions redoubled their magical assault on the ghostly hound. It yowled with pain, my heart skipped in my chest and the spell fizzled in my hand. I needed to run, I had to get away. I stared at the hound as it began to rise to its feet. I turned and ran, not paying attention to where I was going. I collided with Fiona as I passed one of the pillars, heading towards the ball-room, to the stairs, to safety. She had stepped out a spell of writhing shadows, or she did until I ran right into her. We went down in a heap, I didn’t care, I was trying to untangle myself and get away when she slapped me. I stared at her, stunned, cheek stinging the pain apparently not great enough for the game’s AIs to bother dampening. She grinned at me apologetically.

“Crazy, right? Anyway, that was a fear effect. It’s not any scarier and it’s below half health now so get out there Mister Tank.” She rose, dragging me to my feet then shoved me back towards her monster. “Glitters, Faerie Fire, mark that monster for us.”

The facetted, prismatic cocoon monster pulsed as if in affirmation. Its gentle glow grew brighter for a second as it released the familiar orbs of light. These lights were different though; they were all uniform in colour: a yellowish green. The orbs did nothing harmful, but anything they touched glowed with a faint green outline. Both myself and the guardian took on faint green glows of our own.

When the barrage of fire, hex, shadow, and wind spells ended, the hound rose to its ghostly legs again and vanished from sight, a trick that would have been far more concerning had Glitters not gotten more actively involved. It really was a wonderfully diverse monster; I wouldn’t mind something similar in the future if Fiona left the group.

The sound of fangs on glass snapped me back into the moment. The dog had attacked Glitters instead, I could see hairline cracks starting to form in the poor beast’s carapace. Turning, seeing that Baruu had buffed me again, I let loose with a series of Gem Shots. It was gratifying to watch the magical gems enter the spectral flesh and detonate inside blowing chunks of ectoplasm from the main body and while it had reformed the health wasn’t recovered. Every time the creature’s shape had to reform from the onslaught of spells, it got smaller. Eventually shrunken to size of a regular dog, it lay panting, still burning in Violet’s hex flames when it fell still. We stood over it exhausted and beat up. It broke apart into slowly ascending small lights.

Level up!

You have five unassigned stat points, assign them before your next level up or they will be automatically assigned to your three highest stats.

Left in Yeller’s place was a small pile of fragmented stone chips, a couple of unidentified monster stones and a large chest. Now when I say large, I mean it was bigger than the ones I had seen dropped from other powerful monsters but it was by no means what I pictured when I thought of a treasure chest. Fiona rubbed her hands and approached the chest, opening it and alerting us all the contents.

Fiona has received: Butler’s journal

Would you like to roll on: Yeller’s collar?

Need or greed?

Would you like to roll on Ring of lesser vitality?

Need or greed?

I read off the item descriptions of the available items.

Yeller’s collar

Item quality: Rare

Neck

A collar once worn by the faithful Yeller. Its tag is cold to the touch.

Use: release a howl that frightens your enemies, if they fail to resist the spell, they will flee the wearer for 3 seconds unless the effect is dispelled or negated.

Ring of lesser vitality

Item quality: good

Ring

A ring with a small red stone.

Increased health regeneration by 5%.

I hit greed on the collar, then dared to hit need on the ring. Surprisingly, no-one complained at my choices, it seemed I was falling into the tank role of the party, the guy the monsters munched on the most, and as such I was given the ring without contention. The choker, however, caused a problem, as Fizzle and Fiona tied in the roll, beating my own by a lightyear.

“It makes sense that I have it.” Fizzle informed Fiona, hands on hips. “I’m squishy, a fear spell would likely keep me alive.”

“Oh yeah?” She asked, her own hands on hips, leaning over Fizzle. “What about me when I’m scouting ahead? If I get ambushed, I’m just as fucked as you are, at least you’ve got Blue there to get in the way. I need it so I can get away, can’t warn you of monsters if I’m dead.” This continued for a while until I spoke up.

“What was the diary, Fiona?” I asked, rubbing at my temples attempting to alleviate the headache that signified mana depletion.

“Oh, it’s a quest item.” She explained. “I haven’t opened it yet, I wanted to get the loot rolls over and done with. I knew this baby would just complain at me otherwise.”

She opened the book and we all received identical quest alerts, the jingle playing in unison as we checked the details. I examined my window, it had a lot more text than any of my previous quest windows that was for certain, what’s more it looked like the actual diary pages themselves, not a semi-transparent window with digital text in it.

Noble Quest:

The diary you found in the remains of Yeller detail the unfortunate events that lead to the ruin of this stately manor.

Augustumn 13th, 15XX

We have not been at the new house long after the family sent for us having already paid our voyage to the new colony of Meadows Edge. They’ve paid for entire staff resettle here. It was generous of him; indeed, the clean air of the island agrees far more with me than the miasma of the towns. I must confess at first, I had some misgiving coming here…

Augustumn 17th, 15XX

Strange plant monsters began assailing the house and the grounds, at first, they were but a nuisance that we tolerated, honestly sometimes the little things are quite entertaining but things turned serious just this evening, I am writing here now before I retire for the night. One of the master’s children was bitten the other day, she was fine just a little frightened, the master sent word to town of the monsters. Some Chosen were sent to eradicate the problem, they skulked about for a few days speaking in their strange ways about everyone present as if we weren’t there, very peculiar fellows, had monsters just like the stories.

Augustumn 20th 15XX

The issues continue but a few nights after the kill team purged the area. The servants whisper that it is the spirits of the vengeful dead, I’ve put a stop to such rumours, they were upsetting the children and that displeases the master. Still, the servants have been complaining of things going missing or being moved around. I fear it may be difficult to quash these rumours, but we must remain professional, especially with the young lady of the house taking ill, mind you she was always a sickly child...

The date wasn’t included after that entry and indeed the handwriting projected in front of me lost its careful lines and elegant curves. It was a spattered scribbled mess from that point on.

Young mistress, some smudged words, blotted from water damage or ghost dog drool I couldn’t tell, ink splattered the page as well. There was mention of the attic and a key, the basement and the guard at the front gate and rambling of hauntings and curses. Well, it certainly fit the undead plant theme the entire forest and now this house had going on. It gave me the ‘jeebies’ as we say back home.

Explore the house to find the remaining clues as to the fate of the household and its inhabitants

1/1 Butler’s journal

0/1 Master’s Journal

0/1 Matron’s Journal

Accept Yes/no

As you are not the leader of the party you cannot accept this noble quest. Noble quests are quest usually found in dungeons, they offer extra rewards than just the dungeon alone. Be warned: Noble quests can span the entire world of Argaria. Warning, should any member of your party leave before the completion of this quest you will automatically fail.

“No. No! we’re not doing a fucking Noble quest.” Fizzle piped up, his objections to Fiona taking the collar forgotten, I watched her sneak it on when he wasn’t looking.

“We’re all Level five, we can leave and head back to the docks, take the first boat to the mainland.”

“Don’t be a spoil sport, I’m sure Blue doesn’t want to charge off to the mainland. Fiona scowled at the gnome throwing a shit fit, in classic Alber style.

“Don’t we have to leave at Level five, like the quest we picked up said?” I asked, opening my quest menu to double check. Sure enough, when I had hit Level five, a new objective had appeared instructing us to speak to Harbourmaster Riggs to gain passage to the mainland.

“No, that’s just the minimum level requirement.” Fiona told me with a dismissive wave. “Though, we will get more experience and better loot on the mainland. This stuff is nice,” she said showing off her collar and gloves, her tone turned apologetic as she continued “but I think we should stay here until you have a better grasp on magic and combat, you’re enthusiastic but sloppy.”

“Nah, come on, that’s not fair. Remember what you were like when you first started?” Fizzle countered, coming to my defence like a true bro. “When I first set out with Snorg I had no idea what I was doing, I had to work really hard with the magic I was given. He’s got us there to guide him where we had no one and we became two of the most infamous PVPers on the server.”

“I suppose you’re right. Blue, it’s up to you, what do you want to do?” She conceded, turning to me, her monster hovering over next to her for a well-done pat.

Baruu descended and looked at me quizzically, I watched her tremble. The small creature had followed me into this creepy building though she wasn’t happy about it. She nuzzled in bleating softy until I cradled her then she fell quiet. I could feel her quick, shallow breathing as though she were terrified. I looked down at her, but her eyes were closed as though she were trying to block out everything around her. Poor little thing, but it helped me make my decision.

“Baruu seems to really hate it in here and I don’t like that she’s scared.” I told them nodding down at the little bundle of wool and mist. “I say we clear this place as quickly as possible, get some more levels and skill ups as we can. We’ll speak to Riggs and head back to the inn; I’ll need to go log off for a comfort break before long I suspect.”

Fizzle sighed at me and Fiona looked smug. We healed up whatever damage had been sustained, it seemed that it was largely Glitters and I. Fiona, while usually in melee distance with me had opted to use her umbric magics in the fight. It seemed to me that each school when learned offered an attack spell and then some sort of utility. Deciding to ask Alber later when we were offline, I began ascending the marbled stairs to the second-floor balcony. The landing, if that’s what you could call it, stretched forward in a long hallway clear to the rear wall of the house, floors flanked either side alongside dust and web-coated art objects. It was as quiet as it had been throughout the lower floors of the house. Fizzle appeared at my side with Violet looking around. I noticed upon inspection that Violet was a grade D monster and I wondered why my friend wasn’t advancing her further, and I decided I’d ask him as Fiona made a sweep of the floors of the lower room confident that there wouldn’t be any challenging monsters, the boss monster for the ground floor having been defeated.

“So, how come you haven’t advanced Violet?” I asked him, scratching at my bald head.

“I have a plan for her.” He informed me. “I want to flesh out her remaining affinity slots with arcane and null affinities. I’m hoping that one of these stones is an undead species stone. I can couple it with the elemental species stone I’ve already given her.”

“And what would that combination yield?” I asked, curiosity building despite our gloomy surroundings.

“I’d hope for some sort of wraith,” he explained. “They can advance to some pretty mean creatures’ late game. What’s more with the specific elemental affinities she would be a devastating, able to pass through walls and go unnoticed like that dog. Can you imagine the chaos that it would cause in PVP?”

I nodded, thinking back to how sucky the fight with the dog had been; when not tearing me to shreds, my weapons passed right through it and it could vanish, or pass through things at will. I thought about a burning purple ghost moving through a castle at night, leaving flames and ash in its wake and I shuddered. I was growing a little alarmed about how Fizzle thought and behaved while in game, while always loud in person he was generally kind and quite funny. Honestly, that’s why I put up with him. Fiona returned before Fizzle could launch into a further detail-strewn rambling explanation of his plans for Violet. She handed us each a healing potion and a small pile of coins which dutifully vanished into our inventories. We crept forward together, me at the front and Glitters taking up the rear, as the crumbling house wasn’t so abandoned as it appeared.

We checked each door, one after another, eventually finding a set of children’s bedrooms. The first room had survived the damp and mould, judging by the few faded cartoonish representations of monsters that were strewn around the room. It was an upsetting sight; the remains of stuffed animals lay mouldering across the ratty carpeted floor. A solitary rocking horse sat in pale shafts of moonlight, breaking through the ragged curtains and filthy windows. Its paint was peeling, wearing a shroud of cobwebs that gave it an otherworldly feel. Fiona, entering the room after me stopped in the entrance and surveyed the decay around us.

“Nope, absolutely not.” She turned and left the room almost barrelling over Fizzle in her haste to leave.

“Yeah, I can see why,” he chuckled after her taking in the room for himself, toddling over to push the horse. As he set it rocking back and forth, I thought I heard something like the creak of floorboards. Someone or something was moving above us.