Monroe

Chapter Twenty-two. At level.

Bob was once again sitting at a table in the tavern with Elli and Harv, eating some sort of creamy soup.

"So," said Harv between bites, "now that you've had some time to let the praise sink in, let's go over what you did wrong on level five today."

Bob made a motion with his empty spoon that could have been generously constructed as "Go on."

"You were attacked, steadily as soon as you were twenty-five feet from the Gate," Harv said, "so why did you keep pressing forward? You were over a hundred feet in before you stopped."

Bob stopped chewing through what seemed to be a chunk of potato, and considered. Why had he kept pushing down the tunnel?

He started chewing again and mulled it over. Harv and Elli kept eating, and it seemed like they were going to wait for his answer before continuing the conversation.

He ate slowly, finishing most of his bowl, before pushing it away and draining his mug of water.

"I think," Bob started slowly, "that it's because I felt a need to progress. To move forward, to be active, rather than passively waiting for the rats to come to me near the gate."

Elli nodded, and pointed his spoon at Bob, "That is the attitude that we need to correct," he said, "you were dangerously close to needing us to intervene for eight hours Bob."

Harv nodded and pushed his empty bowl away to make room for him to lean forward with his elbows on the table. "Despite how well you managed your energy, you were often one rat-bite away from needing help. You didn't experience it, but if you are bitten by two different rats, the venom stacks."

"Level five is the tempering fire for would-be Adventurers," Harv gestured around the guild, "you can't clear it at or near level, it's meant to pressure you with overwhelming odds, and monsters that are deadlier than they ought to be for their level."

Elli spoke up, "You can verify it with Austan, but I believe the current stricture is that a group of at level Adventurers spend no more than three hours on level five, and a group of adventurers fighting for shards, no more than two hours."

Elli pointed a finger at Bob as he went on, "And those are groups, normally three or more adventurers. They need to pull out after just a few hours so they don't succumb to stress and fatigue and make fatal mistakes."

He leaned back, allowing Harv to tag in. "Now, I'll freely acknowledge that you are a decade the senior of most freshers, and you've clearly led a disciplined life, but eight hours demonstrated a flaw," Harv said in a serious tone.

"We were maybe twenty minutes away from pulling you out," Elli finished grimly.

"It might have been better for you if we had to have rescued you," said Harv with a sigh, "I'm worried that your successes so far will give you false confidence that will end up getting you killed."

Bob considered that statement. He hadn't known about the stacking venom, although it didn't surprise him. He had ridden the edge a bit in terms of balancing his resources. He grimaced. Stamina was even more of an issue than mana was, but he didn't have a good answer for it.

Had he been overconfident?

He'd waltzed through the first three levels like Fred Astair on a particularly good day. Even the swamp, while disgusting hadn't been that much of a challenge.

And while he'd made massive gains on level five, he had burned through six healing potions, which at market price was thirty crystals. Had he taken things slowly, and not advanced so far that he'd been fighting off rats from behind as well, he wouldn't have needed any potions.

Then there was the fucking light. He'd thought of it before but somehow failed to address the issue that he was going underground, without a damn flashlight.

There were likely other lighting solutions available, that while not as convenient, wouldn't carry a one hundred crystal initial outlay, and then require crystals to function. Like a fucking tiki torch. Stick it in the ground, fight in the light. Refill the oil every couple of hours.

He shook his head.

"I definitely made mistakes today," he said, looking first at Harv and then at Elli. "I'll definitely work to address those," Bob leaned forward and went on, "but as Thidwell said, I'm on a timer. When I was blown into this reality, my best friend was left behind, trapped, with only a few weeks worth of food, and no way out."

"Getting back isn't an option in the time I have before he starves, so Thidwell suggested I summon him," Bob said, keeping his voice low. "My best chance of success is to level my Summoning School, and myself."

He leaned back as he finished, "Oh, and of course I'll need crystals for the ritual, and to buy better equipment, and to repay everyone here that I owe for looking out for me."

"So while I made quite a few mistakes yesterday, I made real strides as well."

Elli and Harv had listened attentively, and it was Elli who spoke first, "As long as you can see where you erred, you're on the right path."

Harv picked up, and Bob idly mused that it was a bit like verbal table tennis with these two, "Tomorrow we'll go back to level five, and you can show us that you've learned from today, and hopefully make some more progress."

"We," Harv and Elli exchanged glances, "understand the time crisis you're working under. We're willing to overlook the normal strictures for time spent in the Dungeon, for the moment. We definitely don't want you to develop the habit of long days underneath though," Harv finished.

Bob nodded and replied, "Alright, so that being settled, let me ask you this - have you ever heard of a tiki torch?"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

As it turned out, neither Elli nor Harv had heard of a tiki torch. They did know about oil lamps, which did come in a tripod stand variety and cost one silver. The lamp would last three hours when full, and a flask of oil to fill the lamp was three rounds, although the oil to refill either the lamp or the flask only cost two bits.

Thirteen crystals, half of what he had remaining. He'd gritted his teeth and paid up.

Now he was down on level five of the Dungeon again, about thirty feet from the Gate, methodically killing rats.

Staying close enough that he didn't need to worry about being attacked from behind was paying dividends in terms of resource management.

He was leaning against his staff, regenerating mana at his full rate, which allowed him to keep four UtahRaptors out, running on five-second timers. The increase from level zero to level two was significant, as it now took three hits from a rat for Jake to die. Jake wasn't quite able to kill a rat in two hits, but it was much closer than it had been.

He was much safer. Harv had pulled out a fucking hammock from his backpack, and he and Elli were taking turns napping. Bob was more than a little surprised that they'd anchored the damn thing by stretching it across the gate. Unlike a Stargate, there was no vortex, and thus the only danger was of being knocked out of the hammock when someone came through. Which hadn't happened yet.

His lamp started to flicker, and he picked it up and started to fall back to the Gate. It was surprisingly easy. Bob sighed. He had been an idiot yesterday. Then again.... he looked at his experience meters. Yesterday, if his math was right, he'd killed one rat every ten seconds or so. All in, he'd killed 2,880 rats, each of which was worth one experience. Today, he was killing one rat every fifteen seconds, 720 of them so far. It was enough to push his Summon Monster spell to level three, and most of the way to level four.

He resolutely ignored the Magical School of Summoning experience bar. It was a bit over a third of the way full. Best not to dwell deeply on that, he told himself. Focus on getting Summon Monster to five, then hit the sixth level and start farming crystals while working Summon Monster to six.

Elli had nudged Harv awake when Bob started walking back to the Gate.

Harv hopped out of the hammock, and it down and stored before Bob arrived.

"Now wasn't that both easier and safer?" Harv asked with a grin.

"Yes, it absolutely was. I'll need another... five and a half hours to reach level five with my spell," Bob said.

"How about this, we go up and eat lunch, then we come back, do another three hours, go eat dinner, then come back to finish it off afterward?" Bob suggested hopefully.

Elli nodded and replied, "Three-hour chunks are good, although I wouldn't get in the habit of multiple delves a day once you've rescued your friend."

Harv activated the gate, and Bob followed them through, waving to Austan on his way by.

As they crossed the plaza, Bob asked a question that had occurred to him a few times, "So when exactly do I get a Gate token?"

Elli and Harv exchanged uncomfortable glances. "They're set by level, a token for down to level five is a hundred crystals, and a token down to level ten is two hundred crystals," Elli answered.

Ah. Bob nodded and mentally sighed. He'd need to add two hundred crystals to his tally of requirements, on top of the roughly two hundred crystals he already anticipated needing.

Still, things were looking up.

Your Summon Mana-Infused Creature Skill has reached level 3.

He almost pulled out Jake to check his status but reconsidered. The UtahRaptor tended to elicit some pretty extreme reactions.

Bob followed Harv and Elli, running on autopilot as he considered Jake.

'Trebor,' he mentally projected, 'I couldn't help but notice that everyone who has seen Jake has reacted as if he's unusual, beyond being what he physically is.'

"A monster created by the Summon Mana-Infused Creature skill is normally a mindless automaton,' Trebor replied, 'Your skill is slightly different because you have a depth of knowledge regarding the creature that is beyond nearly all the academics in this universe, and also because you lack the knowledge commonly known in regards to the Magical School of Summoning.'

Bob took his seat and nodded to Bailli who arrived with a trio of mugs.

'So what you're saying,' he thought, 'is that Jake is odd because I am both very well educated and also terribly ignorant.'

'That is an excellent summary, yes,' Trebor said, 'Everyone here knows that summoned monsters are mindless. Even if someone who had been, say, a farmer for decades, came into the ability to summon a horse, despite his familiarity with the beast, his knowledge of its anatomy and its eating habits and personality, the horse would still be a mindless automaton because the farmer would expect it to be.'

'Whereas Jake acts like a UtahRaptor because you expect him to act like a UtahRaptor.'

Bob mulled that over as Bailli arrived with lunch, which was a chunk of meat swimming in a rich broth with half a loaf of bread on the side.

"Elli," he asked idly as he grabbed his bread, "is there a reason why almost every single meal here is either soup, stew, or involves broth?"

Elli shrugged and answered, "The easiest way to cook a lot of food in one go. Slice up the meat, crack the bones, add water and vegetables, and let it cook from midnight till noon. Pull the bones and serve up the stew, or thicken it to soup, or if you didn't use any thickening root vegetables, just do it up as broth and meat."

Harv nodded and swallowed a bite of his meal, "Guild keeps it pretty simple. You can find different meals in a couple of places around the city, and we sometimes do, but most days eating at the Guild is just easier than taking the time to cook for yourself."

Bob dipped the bread in the broth and chewed.

'Is the system not static?' he mentally projected.

'It both is and isn't,' Trebor responded, 'keep in mind that the skills you are using were, at some point, introduced into the System by someone, somewhere, experimenting with mana. The skills you'll find in the system have a bit of, shall we say, 'Wiggle room', built into them, because mana, by its nature, encourages change.'

'So I could create my own spells?' Bob thought eagerly.

'Yes, although anything that is too close to what already exists will simply refer you to that Skill,' Trebor replied.

'And,' Trebor went on, 'given that the System governing this universe has been in place for slightly more than fourteen billion years, with over ten million since the last time a revision was required, you'll likely find it difficult to create a Skill that isn't already present, although your knowledge of the fundamental realities of the universe might lead to your creating some esoteric Skills.'

'What is the process to create a new skill?' Bob projected.

'You sit down with a hundred crystals and starting pushing mana through them while focusing on the Magical School and mentally projecting the mana pattern for the skill you're trying to create,' Trebor answered.

Ah.

Fucking crystals. It all came down to fucking crystals.

And levels. And skills. And skill levels.

Bob finished his meal and looked towards Harv.

"Deep thoughts?" Harv asked.

"Just coming to the realization that I'm going to need a pile of crystals larger than I am," Bob replied.

Elli grinned at him and said, "That is one of the ways you know you're an Adventurer," he let out a laugh as he stood up, "you never have enough crystals."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

One more meal, two trips down through the gate, three lamp refills, seven hours, and one thousand, three hundred and twenty rats later, Bob saw the experience bar for his Summon Monster skill fill, and then empty back out.

He let his three UtahRaptors guard him as he walked the few feet back to the safety of the gate.

"Done," he said tiredly.

"And well done at that," said Harv, as he activated the Gate.

Bob followed them through the gate and paused in the mausoleum.

Austan wasn't there. Another man, wearing the same type of robes, but much younger, was sitting in the chair.

"Ah, excuse me," Bob said awkwardly. He'd been expecting Austan.

"Clyde," was the helpful response.

"Clyde, I'm going to use my summon monster spell, I want to check it's status now that I've leveled the spell up," Bob said.

Clyde nodded, and opened his book, presumably to find their Delve and mark them safe.

Summon: UtahRaptor(Jake) Tier: 5 Size: 5 Level: 5 Weapon Hardness: 15 Hide hardness: 10 Strength: 18 Mana: 7 Armor: 33.15 Coordination: 18 Stamina: 18 Claw Damage: 126.14 Endurance: 10 Health: 75 Bite Damage: 122.57 Intelligence: 7 Movement: 25 Wisdom: 7 Dodge 23 Beauty: 10 Caster Value / 2 56

He immediately dismissed Jake, not needing to cause Clyde any undue distress. Although he did sort of enjoy seeing people's reactions to the UtahRaptor, he was just too fucking tired.

The real improvements Jake showed were his health, which had tripled, as had his dodge, and his armor which had doubled. Even with his level reduced to two by the halving of persistent effect, he was still much more durable than he had been.

It was pretty clear that there weren't going to be any monumental gains in damage, but it was creeping up as well. He considered that it would probably increase more rapidly now that he was going to be gaining levels, which would impact his casting score, which in turn would impact the UtahRaptor's ability to rip things to shreds.

But for now, sleep beckoned.

Tomorrow was the big day. Down to level six of the Dungeon, where he could finally advance his level, and gather the crystals he needed to save Monroe.

He took a moment to close his eyes. "Hold on buddy," he muttered as his chest tightened, "I'll get you out of there."