Death After Death

Were physical changes carrying over from each attempt, or was it just his imagination? Had the body he was in been in this simulation for only a moment, or had it been here for days since he left the temple of Helades? These were weighty questions that Simon didn’t feel like exploring further, so instead he said, “Mirror - show me my character sheet,” trying to find something - anything to distract himself from the horrible memory of being eaten alive by a pack of goblins. It hadn’t been quite as painful as the spikes, but it was far more revolting.

Name: Simon Jackoby

Level:

3

Deaths: 5

Experience Points: -4025

Skills: Archery [Very Poor], Armor (light) [Very Poor], Athletics [Very Poor], Cook [Very Poor], Craft [Very Poor], Deception [Very Poor], Escape [Very Poor], Investigate [Very Poor], Maces [Very Poor], Ride [Very Poor], Search [Very Poor], Sneak [Very Poor], Spears [Very Poor], Spell Casting [None], Steal [Very Poor], Swimming [Very Poor], and Swords [Poor].

“Well - that’s progress at least,” Simon said to himself, happy to see that at least he was a higher level now, despite the fact that his experience points kept getting more negative. He briefly wondered where his skill points were going if none of his skills were going up, but decided not to ask the mirror. It didn’t seem to know anything anyway, so what would be the point? Instead he got up and drank some wine while he tried to decide what he could do better next time. Certainly now that he knew the right way, drowning wouldn’t be a problem at least, but how should he deal with the goblins?

Simon picked up the long bow and gave it an experimental pull, but he could barely move it, and once the string was back, he couldn’t see how he’d support an arrow and pull at the same time. Reluctantly he let it go with a satisfying twang, and put it back on the wall. Instead he picked up the crossbow. This was more familiar at least. It was more like the guns he was used to in shooters. Simon picked a bolt up, put it in the already cocked crossbow, and then took careful aim at the loaf of bread sitting on the table ten feet from him. Pulling the trigger turned out to be harder than expected, but once he did that, there was a higher pitched twang followed by a thud as he pinned the bread to the wall behind it. It was a minor victory, but he was ecstatic. “Take that you slimy green skins!” he shouted.

That triumphant attitude was undone over the next couple minutes as he struggled to restring the thing. He knew the wide metal loop at the front of it was part of that, and the first time he struggled to lift the string into place he realized he’d forgotten to reset the mechanism to give the string something to catch on. So, he had to do it a second time, painfully pinching his fingers in the process. “Damn it,” he muttered, looking at the reset crossbow without much satisfaction. It might be good for one shot - but he doubted he’d be able to reload it in the heat of battle. What he needed was a gun or a wand, or maybe even a [Trueshot] skill. Something simple that was point and shoot so he could show these monsters what happened when they fucked with him.

Maybe this would be enough for now though, he decided, putting his armor back on for what felt like the thousandth time. It was such a chore, and barely fit him. This time he journeyed back down into the pit with the full set of boiled leather, a sword, a spear, a crossbow, its bolts, and a couple torches. He was starting to feel like an honest to God adventurer. Carrying so many different tools made him feel like he could solve just about any problem - but it was also very bulky, and even with the scabbard to free up a hand he felt more than a little clumsy as he descended the stairs into the pit again.

This time he managed to skewer one of the rats on his spear before he stomped the rest and he made record time through the trap labyrinth now that the bats were no challenge at all. Even though the floors of this dungeon were never quite the same, they seemed to change only very slightly between each attempt - so it was getting to where he could tell some of the trigger plates by sight, and some of the traps by the scrapes their repeated triggering had made on the opposite wall. He was deeply ambivalent about his smooth progress though. On the one hand - getting through the first two floors without a scratch meant that he was definitely leveling up and well on his way to speed running this thing. The downside though, was that the quicker he got to the goblin cave, the sooner he was going to have to fight himself some goblins.

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The cave smelled just as bad as he remembered it, and Simon shuddered at the memories of sharp yellow goblin teeth ripping into his flesh. He wasn’t sure how exactly he was supposed to see the other goblin before it saw him, since apparently they could see in the dark while he needed the torch, but he moved very slowly forward, listening for the sound of the monsters, and he was eventually rewarded with the sound of footsteps around the next bend. Simon tossed the torch behind a small rockfall a dozen feet from him and hid in the shadows behind a stalagmite, waiting for the creature. He realized a few seconds after he tossed the torch that the thing might just shout an alarm before it investigated, but even if it did, he’d be no worse than before. He didn’t want to have to fight four at once like before, and distraction and misdirection were the only allies he had.

Fortunately the sentry was curious, and it got all the way to the torch quietly. It even picked it up and looked around in confusion, but it never saw the shot that killed it. At this range Simon couldn’t miss and the bolt he loosed sank deep into the creature’s skull, dropping it on the spot. He smiled in satisfaction, retrieving the torch. He debated reloading the crossbow, but he couldn’t imagine how much harder that would be in the dark, so he threw the strap over his shoulder and opted to continue his slow way through the limestone cave relying on his spear instead.

A few hundred more feet and two turns later the sulfurous stink had gotten so bad that Simon’s eyes watered before he finally found the real goblin den. There were three of them, and they were lounging around a bonfire that seemed to mostly be fueled by animal dung near the mouth of the cave. There was more than enough light here, so he extinguished his torch before he attempted to peer around the area and see if there were any more of the buggers.

A quick look around the wide cave entrance didn’t reveal any more goblin sentries but it did reveal a stone door carved into a niche not so far from him. Simon was sure that had to be on the next floor, and decided not to risk another fight with these guys if he didn’t have to. Instead he crept through the rear of the shadowy cave, hoping to not to attract their attention. He was almost shocked when he actually succeeded and made it to the door. The system hadn’t managed to screw him over with some sort of automatic aggro or forced trigger or anything. But as soon as he tried to pull the ring on the door to open it he changed his mind, cursing himself for speaking too soon.

The thing started to open, but as it slowly slid open the grinding of stone on stone was loud enough to wake the dead, and it got stuck after only a few inches. Simon grunted and pulled harder, ignoring the sound of chattering and shouting that had started behind him. If he could just get it open a little further he’d… That train of thought stopped in its tracks as a crude arrow whizzed by his ear and bounced off the stone door. He whirled around, and looked for somewhere he could get cover, but there wasn’t much to be had, so instead he located the archer while it was knocking another arrow to its bow, and charged it. It was a desperate thing. The other goblins were heading towards him, and he didn’t look like he was going to make it in time, so instead he heaved back and threw his spear at the awful thing.

The spear went wide, because of course it did. He had no idea how you were supposed to throw a spear. It did make the creature duck and cower away from the blow though, and that was enough. Simon pulled his long sword from his scabbard, suddenly wishing he had brought a shield, and swung at the archer as soon as he reached it, cleaving its soft body almost in half before turning to face the other two. They started to approach him from opposite sides, but Simon was done being defensive. Instead of retreating he charged one with his sword raised and it immediately bolted and ran. Why wouldn’t it? If he was fighting a giant three times his own height with a ten foot long sword he’d run too.

Running didn’t save it though, and Simon cleaved its skull half a dozen steps later. He turned to face the final goblin, breathing heavily, but the thing was already running out of the mouth of the cave, doing whatever it could to survive for one more day. Simon let it go. He didn’t need the experience points bad enough to jog. What he needed was a rest and a nice cold sports drink. The water here was hopelessly polluted by goblin filth though, so instead he just sat there until he wasn’t winded, and then he retrieved his spear before returning to the stone door.

Now that he wasn’t trying to be quiet, he put one foot on the wall and pulled with all his might and grunted loudly. This succeeded where his other attempts failed, opening up the door about halfway before it became solidly stuck. The gap revealed a dark stone staircase that was lost in the shadows after a few steps, so before he went down Simon lit his second torch using the goblin campfire. Then he sucked in his gut, moved his equipment around, and squeezed through the tight space and into the stone stairway beyond.