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A Gamer's Guide 299
🕑 Added 2024-08-05 10:00:10 +0000 UTCMost likely, they didn’t spot me, and just went over here to get away from everyone else. But why would they do that? What kind of person escapes a warm fire and hot food? For what reason?
Curiosity claws at me. With the way the lake is shaped, considering the place they sat down, I should be able to see them just by looking up from my sewing.
But… why? Why would I do that? It’s just a person. I don’t need to talk to them, or make myself known. I’d be much happier just sitting here, finishing Leif and stewing in my self-pity.
…Hrrm.
Grumbling, I fasten the needle and look up at my neighbor.
It’s a girl. She’s sitting a pace or so away, atop a rock, her head in her hands, frowning out at the lake—or, specifically, at the people on the other side. But that’s only secondary to the way she’s dressed. I mean, I can tell that it’s the type of stuff a wizard would wear, but there’s more to it that ruins the image. For one, she’s all dressed in black and purple, like a real witch. Secondly, and I really have to point this out—her jewelry. She’s completely covered in the stuff. Of course, for her hands, she has the typical five-rings-on-each-hand build, same as most other mages. This wouldn’t be strange, if they weren't all connected to each other by silver chains, which also connect to a bunch of bracelets, each filled with glittering gems—the magic kind that’s meant to act as a buffer if the spell should fail. She’s wearing a similar tight piece of jewelry around her neck, probably a spellcollar, but it looks weird. It’s sectioned up into several rings, each containing numerous gems.
And, finally, although most of it is hidden beneath a half-folded, witchy-looking hat, she’s also wearing some sort of silver tiara, which holds back her shoulder-length, fully black hair.
Aside from all the spell-oriented jewelry, she’s also wearing plenty of normal stuff too, though it’s all so well-made that it looks magical in nature. She’s pale enough to explain why she might want to avoid the sun, and the fact that her shoes are made of crusty black fabric tells me why she didn’t wade through the water. Her robe must make it difficult to get anywhere.
She’s the witchiest witch I’ve ever seen, and I have literally fought a baba-yaga-esque witch.
Sitting there, though, she doesn’t look especially threatening. If anything, she looks tired. Tired, and a bit annoyed.
So… she doesn’t like being around lots of people either, huh? Somehow, I can tell just by looking at her. But she should have come here with a party, right? The tutorial isn’t designed to be beaten alone.
…Unless it’s the hell difficulty, of course.
I feel a tremble return to my hands. Th—there’s no way, right?
I swallow dryly. Sure, the hell difficulty is sort of unbeatable, and nobody else has made it past the first level, but… That was only the last time I checked. Since then, someone might have made it! It’s possible. Sure, she doesn’t look as tattered as me, and her hair is shorter, but that might just mean that she’s a genius or something. That’d be cool.
But, even then… It’s not like I need to talk to her. Two anti-social misanthropes, sitting fifty feet apart. No need to close that gap. If she doesn’t like people then, well… Unfortunately, despite everything, I happen to fall into that category. If the hell difficulty has been as hard on her as it has on me, she might attack me on sight. Maybe. You never know.
However…
Slowly, I stand up. I clench my hands.
I have to try, don’t I?
If it gets awkward, I can just leave. I don’t have to make friends, or do idle chatting, or anything like that. I just… want to talk to her for a bit. That’s all.
Steeling myself, I start wading towards her.
Her detection skills must be better than the people across the lake, because she notices me at a pretty good distance. She takes one look at me, blinks twice, and then raises her left hand. Now that I’m getting a good look at it, her left hand actually has segmented rings across all her fingers, with the end-parts continuing into clawed caps. It looks cool, but she probably only has them on the left because, well… Claws are kind of cumbersome.
Nevertheless, I know what her gesture means, so I reciprocate in kind by raising my hands. “I’m no threat.”
“You look like one,” she says, but the hostile expression on her face has gone away, replaced by mild confusion. “Huh. How come you speak Afrikaans fluently?”
“Is that what you hear me speak?”
She frowns lightly, still pointing her hand at me. “So, it’s a skill?”
“Yep.”
“In that case, you only look like a tokoloshe by association.”
“I don’t know what that is.”
Her frown deepens. “Aren’t you from the Africa server?”
I frown back at her. “You are?”
“Yes, I am,” she says, finally lowering her arm. “I’m from South Africa. And how about you, strangely thin man?”
“Europe server,” I say. “Sweden.”
She looks at my face and crow-black hair. “You are?”
I’m just about to shoot something back when I notice the tiniest smirk on her face. “Oh, so that’s how it is. Ha-ha, very funny.” I step closer to her until we’re at proper talking-distance. My eyes fall to my feet. Africa server. That means there’s a chance. “So, um…” I poke my fingers together. “What difficulty are you doing?”
“Hard,” she says, smiling proudly. But the smile quickly falls off, probably because of the look on my face. “What’s with that look? Most people are impressed when I tell them, not disappointed.”
“Ah, no, no, I just thought… Sorry.” Alright. I turn halfway around. In that case, I might as well…
“How about you, then?”
“Huh?”
She sits up a little straighter. “What difficulty are you on?”
I blink at her. Suddenly, realization dawns on me.
Oh. She wants to talk to me.
I sniff a little. The summer sun has left her sweaty, and I can smell a bit of blood in her robes, probably from battle, but even more than that… She’s nervous. Anxious. Her right leg is jumping, if only slightly.
I glance down. My knees are shaking.
A smile rises to my lips. She’s… just like me.
“I’m doing the hell difficulty,” I say, stepping closer until I can sit on the large rock nearby her. Her eyes widen, but I’m able to wave it off with a smile and a chuckle. “But it’s really nothing important.”
“Seriously? Didn’t all of the hell difficulty challengers die?”
“Not me,” I say, fighting the automatic reflex to add ‘though I wish I had.’ I shake my head. “But I’m much more interested in hearing about what you’ve been through. You’re… a mage right? Must be hard to fight solo as a long-ranger.”
“Well, heh…” Suppressing a grin, she pulls up the sleeve of her right arm. There, hidden in a sheath, always ready to spring forth, is a dagger. “If things come down to it, I can handle myself in the short-range, too.” And she looks like she’s about to rush into a deep, multi-faceted explanation of her fighting style, only to halt herself. Pulling down her sleeve again, she turns to me. “And you?”
I blink at her. “Me, what?”
“Oh! Ah, uh, th—that is, you look…” She gestures at the whole of me. “Um… How do you fight…?”
I hold up a clawed hand. Her eyes widen, though not in fear—in awe.
“Whoooaaaa,” she breathes, reaching out towards them.
“They’re sharp,” I warn her, but she obviously doesn’t listen, because she pokes one of my claws anyways, still being surprised when it shears right through her fingertip, though thankfully not the whole way through. “See?”
“Wow,” she says, slowly lifting her finger off of my claw, “that is sharp! I wish I had claws like those. And fangs—fangs are so cool.”
Pausing only for a moment, I quickly open my mouth, showing off my well-used, extremely sharp fangs. “Beh chafuwl thoue, vewwy shaap,” I breathe.
Again ignoring me, still ooing and aahing, she pokes one of my teeth, still somehow surprised to find it sharp enough to pierce her skin. Once she pulls her finger from my mouth, I close it. “Awesome,” she breathes. Smiling excitedly, she looks me up and down again. “What else?”
“What, what else?”
“I mean, what other weapons? Like, do you use daggers, or swords, or…?”
I hum at her. The last time I did this, it fell flat. But she seems like she might appreciate a good joke…
“Oh, yeah, there’s actually one more weapon I have, deadlier than all others…” Saying no more, I raise my hand high, wave my wrist and flex my fingers, and with an alakazam, and an alakazat, turn this hand into a—
My hand, without lightshows or fanfare, is instantly replaced with a rat, severing my arm at the wrist.
“Rat!” I announce triumphantly. The rat in question, having been summoned with my hand pointed upwards, balances perilously atop my perfectly severed wrist.
She stares at it, face blank. “How the fuck did you do that?”
I twitch. Ah. She didn’t like that one. “Heh, um, that’s…” I lower my hand, grabbing the rat and stuffing it into my mouth, swallowing it before she has time to comment on it. “Summon rat skill. I got it from the god of comedy because… He thought it was funny? And—and I agree! Probably. It works in a pretty wacky way, but I’ve gotten used to it, so now I can use it in combat as a distraction, not that it’s very effective… But, um. Yeah! F—fun, right?”
Now that I’m looking at her again, she’s hidden her mouth with her hand. That’s… not a very good sign. Did I mess this up already?
“Does eating the rat connect to your Wolverine healing?” she asks.
“Um…” I wipe the sweat from my brow. “It’s a little more complicated, but… Kind of? I regenerate by eating, but even without eating, my healing is still…”
“Wow,” she mutters. “So this is what the hell difficulty does to a guy, huh…”
“I—I guess?”
She nods deeply. Then, after only a second’s silent deliberation, she reaches out her hand. “I’m Gecko. Short for GeckomancerOfYore.”
I take her hand, grinning nervously. “The name’s Kitty. PrissyKittyPrincess.”
“Kitty, huh?” She grins back at me. “What say you and I form a pact, Kitty?”
Do I even need to consider this decision?
“Absolutely.”
We shake on it.
Comments
Kevin
LETS FRICKING GO! WITCH WAIFU GAINED!
Nogardnoir
Another neurodivergant person for sure hahaha
Aqry
Good chapter, I love it when people are talking about the hell difficulty. It would be cool to see the community or more information if someone from a diffrent server may actually haven beaten the first floor of the Hell difficulty.
posiedon11
Oh no. Kitty making an actual friend? What are you going to do to her?
