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Chapter 161: Voyage (End)
🕑 Added 2025-01-28 23:33:13 +0000 UTCWorld: MSS - Loading...
***
This fucking game.
I spent hundreds of dollars on this stupid indie 2D pixel-style RPG game that I bought for less than fifteen dollars. There wasn’t a huge player base, nor was it on any popular rankings. But the story, the gameplay, the combat mechanics and the world itself –everything about it drew me in. And it became an obsession for me to beat it. I scoured online sources, wrote my own guides and notes.
“I can’t believe we didn’t get a single Core.” Kyrian complained.
I could only sigh in response.
This… fucking… game.
“Sssseven dayssss and nightsssss. Fissssshing.” Skaris said while peering at me.
I looked away.
I hated the ocean-section of MSS. For many reasons.
First, it was nigh impossible to farm there without Cores that gave you bonuses underwater. But those type of Cores only existed on monsters that lived underwater. So you had to go boat-fishing for them. Yet, that wasn’t good enough. More than 80% of the Cores that came with Underwater bonuses had horrible stats attached to them. In my opinion, an underwater build is the worst one you can build in MSS.
So how do you fulfill the underwater portion of the game?
It’s simple.
You don’t. You just skip it.
Trust me. I know. I once spent 6 months with two computers, running underwater expeditions. There was nothing there of note.
To start hunting underwater, you have to start with fishing. But that’s risky. Because the best Cores are in the deep sea, and I remember a popular blog post that listed percentages for fishing. It’s less than 1% to get a decent enough monster –which means it not only has the Core that’s useful, but is killable. The problem with fishing in the first place is that your boat could so easily be overturned by a monsters. Since you were fishing because you don’t have Cores that allow you to fight in the water… if you’re boat is destroyed, it’s pretty much a game-over.
The other 99% of the time, you pull up junk.
Like the dirty pair of leather boots which Stole pulled up and was excitedly taking it down below to the Smithy to get it repaired by the Dwarven Smiths.
I sighed again, remember how she jumped up and down at the filthy pair of boots she had fished out of the ocean. Her own ‘treasure’ she called it. After that, she went back to fishing with renewed vigor. Stole had pulled up all sorts of things. Boots. Hats. Wooden Planks.
The 99% loot.
And even if you go through the statistical anomaly of pulling up a Monster that’s both killable and has a Core worth selling…
There’s another less than 1% chance that it might drop the Core you want.
“I must admit,” Aurora said to the side, “I never expected fishing to be so relaxing.”
You could see the dilemma here.
I had thought that this was a good opportunity to make some cash. Cores that could be used underwater go for a lot of gold. Unfortunately, we never pulled up any of the good monsters that could be useful. But the problem was more than that.
In the dozens of monsters (yes, we killed less than a hundred monsters over the course of a week), none of them dropped Cores. None of us leveled up. None of us got a Core. We didn’t even make enough money off the monster materials that usually drop in loads.
So after wasting seven days, we returned to the main boat with nothing to show for it.
“Land ho!” one of the Sailors from the crow’s nest cried out.
The people on the boat began bustling with purpose. Like a beehive stirred to unrest, the entire deck withgan to buzz with small talk.
“Finally, land.” A priest commented.
“Aye, getting tired of this hardtack. Can’t wait for some real food… and a romp in the hay, if you know what I mean.” The sailor walking next to the priest replied, following it up with a raucous laugh.
The priest most certainly did not know what the sailor meant. But the smile on the holy man’s face spoke volumes of how weary this trip had been.
From beginning to end, nothing had gone according to plan. We’d lost our boats, we’d been set off track and now we were off schedule. Not only that, on the MSS oceans, not a single day could go by without people worrying if a stray [Leviathan] or [Kraken] would surface. That would be a sight to see, and the last sight anyone would see as well.
The resurfacing hope was almost palpable. People began clamoring excitedly. Not just for hopes of land, but of seeing new sights and entering a new city.
“I heard that the Free Trader’s League has the most exotic goods.” One of the Stonehammer Dwarves said to a female Beastman Sailor. “Is it true that they’re the only ones to have a trade contract with the Uleum Horde?”
“Aye,” The beastman sailor replied. “If you’re interested in the like, I could show you around. You’re bound to see things you’ve never seen before.”
“Ahaha! I can’t possibly bother you with that!”
“It’s no bother at all. It’d be my pleasure.” The sailor looked entirely human. The only thing that betrayed her beastman heritage was a pair of scales next to both her eyes. A lizard beastman, just like Skaris then. It gave her a sultry look, belonging more on a songstress than a sailor. So when she winked at the dwarf, the reaction was immediate. “Been meaning to spend some time, with just us two. If you’d like of course.”
The dwarf blushed like a crushed grape and began mumbling his thanks while walking away.
I leaned against the railing, my face sour after the two had flirted no more than three feet from me. Still, I kept my ears open and my [Hearing] stat made it easy for me to pick up more bits of conversation.
“Can’t wait to get off this sorry excuse of a boat.” Captain Fluporuin’s voice.
“For once, I agree with ye. Can’t wait to feel solid stone under me feet again.” Doror replied.
Zenom was speaking in hushed tones with Borealis.
“...funds for transport.”
“Wouldn’t…. provide… worst case…”
I stopped. The conversation sounded important.
On reflex, I stood up straight and started looking for them. Everyone was talking though and it was hard to discern where they were. It didn’t help that the barge was huge. Damn it, if Stole was here…
I stopped wasting time, closing my eyes and focusing on eavesdropping.
I can do a lot of things with my Knight build which is specialized for combat. Consistent damage that grows exponentially over time. Controlling space. Anti-magic and assassination and soft crowd control.
But spying?
That’s out of my depth.
If this was the game version, it would have been impossible. But in the reality patch of MSS, I was able to piece bits of what they were discussing.
“...rumors of War Prince…”
“...the Bishop might… allies… recruit…”
“Surely not… conflict… trade route…”
“...could be over… funds…”
It was near impossible except for the fact that the Bishop might try to recruit allies. Which was a given, really. Ever since Zenom had taken the whip to lead this expedition, the Bishop had been quiet. Way too quiet. I had near expected him to take charge of the investigation for the boats burning down, but he hadn’t ever shown his presence again.
“Fucking hyena.” I said under my breath. He was like a scavenger, waiting until the right moment to pick at weakened prey.
I noticed that one of the sailors –goddamit, a hyena beastman– stood in front of me with wide, scared eyes. His ears were flattened to his skull and froze in place, despite the two heavy crates he was carrying.
“I-I’m sorry.” He said.
“No, I didn’t mean-” I cleared my throat to try again. “I was talking about-”
He was already gone.
I cursed softly. For half a second, I debated going after the man to apologize. My opinions among the sailors was already rock bottom, now I was going to be called racist scum just like other humans. But if I apologized to every person I offended, I’d never get done.
So I closed my eyes, trying to home in on Zenom and Borealis’ conversation again.
However, I couldn’t find their voices again. Just general meaningless chatter. Either they had walked away somewhere else or finished their conversation.
“Shit,” I cursed, “Fucking hyena.” And this time, I meant it.
“Eep! I’m sorry!”
The hyena beastman from before had returned, this time carrying a different set of crates. He promptly dropped one of the crates he was carrying and ran off somewhere.
“God damn it.” I said softly. “How the hell…”
I bent down to pick up the crate. Some of its contents had spilled on the floor. Fish. I started picking them up with my bare hands, ignoring the slime on them and shoving them into the crate. Inside of the crate was ice-cold, most likely magic, and my hand came away with bits of frost clinging to it. The least I could do is put this where it should be.
“Sir Lock?” said a voice.
My party had just finished a 7-day hunt on a different barge. It had been wet, cold and miserable. Plus, since we were expecting monsters at any moment, we had been armored. Which meant some of our armor pieces had started to rust. As a general rule, I was always armored. Always.
But not today.
I never shopped in this world. Not for things that had nothing to do with adventuring anyways.
My tunic was the same tunic that I had since I was a slave. Washed five times over. Aurora always gave me a look of disappointment when I wore it, but she was off somewhere too. So I wore it and I was sure that no one had seen me wear this before. It was a tattered piece of rag that barely qualified as cloth at this point. Stained and torn, there wasn’t enough of the material to hold a smell.
And now, it was covered in bits of fish slime.
Still, I wore it. It was comfortable. It covered my body (mostly). But most important of all, it was mine.
And people say I’m not sentimental.
I looked up, slime dripping off of my hands to see Dawn Clois of House Vetilius looking down on me.
Her pristine shirt was a blend of stylish yet functional armor pieces and velvety silk that draped around slender arms. Her short gray hair had been tied into pigtails and it made her look her age. Compared to Aurora, Dawn had this girly look about her. Aurora was tall, statuesque and gave off a very womanly feeling. She wouldn’t look out of place in a play around Athena, the greek goddess of War and Wisdom.
Dawn Clois was slightly different. Her icy blue-green eyes were playful and there was a wicked streak about them. Like she was sharing an inside joke with you, something that only you two knew. She stood with her hands on her knees, her chest close enough to my face for me to notice.
Realizing I’d been staring, I tore my gaze away and concentrated on picking up the fish from the floor of the deck.
“Sir Lock? What are you doing?”
“It’s nothing.” I said, picking up the last and shoving it into the crate.
“Why are you picking up fish?” Dawn asked, her face filled with open curiosity.
I used to think that being emotionless like a statue was a Vetilius trait. That changed after I met Borealis and Dawn. Especially Dawn.
“A sailor dropped them.” I said simply.
Dawn stared at me, the curiosity fading into something else. Some other emotion or feeling I didn’t know. She looked at me up and down, her gaze settling on the fish slime on my arms. I didn’t need my superior smell stat to know that they stank, even to someone without my Cores.
“Well, there’s no time. There’s another meeting, they are looking for you.” Dawn said.
“What? Now?” I set the crate down gently, frowning.
“Yes, the leaders are the convene. Every party leader.” Dawn’s voice gained a sense of urgency. “There’s no time for you to be picking up-”
Sometimes in life, things slow down and you can remember it in crystal clear detail.
The perfectly straight edged wooden planks of the barge that the Dwarves made. Dawn’s face, her flawless features. If she was born on earth, she could’ve been a famous hollywood actress.
The sudden rush of voices rising in pitch and volume. Wind brushing across my skin in urgency.
The air trembling with impending promise.
Skaris screaming from the distance, “Ssssssslaveborn!”
The scent of fire.
Smoke.
People screaming.
And the picture perfect moment frozen as a cannonball the size of a small car sailed through the air towards all of us.
“WATCH OUT!”
My arms grabbing the nearest person and covering them with my body.
The sound of ocean breaking.
Then fire.
Comments
Ben Nikel
That poor hyena man. Lock is just a big scary meanie. TFTC!
Predyca
Tftc <3
