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Fast!
In came those familiar double axes, right for Meliadol's head!
But this time, he was already moving, rolling to the side, before skidding to his feet and lunging with his sword. It slipped between the skeleton's arms, tearing a deep line into the bone along its jaw.
Meliadol wasn't even watching his attack. He was counting in his head. One…two…three…four! Without looking, he ducked as the other skeleton's axes came down in a double chop. In between the whispered second, he managed to scoot back, leaving the two skeletons in front, and him safely out of reach for the moment.
He started running, circling the skeletons in a tightening spiral. As he closed in, he mentally ran through the list of moves they would use. Sure enough, a single slice arced in, and he parried it while stepping in closer. As predicted, since he parried, the skeleton tried to kick out, but he weaved under the leg. Another step. Another one-handed strike. Dodge. Another step. Four seconds! Double chop! He was close enough to wrap his arms around his enemy at this point, swerving around to the skeletons side. With both hands he drove the sword into the skeleton's back. It lodged in between the spinal column and he twisted savagely. The pinprick red glow in its eyes grew bright for a moment before fading rapidly, winking out of existence.
It collapsed, now inert.
Elation filled Meliadol's heart. He went to give a cheer, some exclamation of happiness, but it was brought short as he was cut down.
A familiar grey landscape filled his vision.
He had plenty of time to contemplate what happened within that endless gray void that was the respawn timer. Fuck! In his happiness, he had completely forgotten about the other skeleton…what a noob mistake! It tarnished what would have otherwise been a great victory for him.
Still, as he waited to resurrect, he pulled up his status screen. Sure enough, his experience bar was one-eighth of the way full. Here it was, tangible proof of his success. He took a moment to just appreciate the feeling, to bask in the glory. After trying so very hard, he had done it! These monsters weren't meant for solo players either, so he could assume the experience was better. But more importantly, it was a barometer for his improvement.
This was his third attempt, but knowing the problem and implementing the solution were two different things. The first two deaths were him just trying to juggle paying attention to moves and the cooldowns between them. But in the end, Bast's words were correct. It was like learning to read for the first time; a world of possibility had appeared before him from such a simple solution.
It was absurd to think this was all thanks to a couple words!
"This is a game."
He wasn't sure if he should laugh or cry.
The game, of course, didn't wait for him to decide. The snapping sound shook everything as the grey landscape was sucked into nothing, like water down a drain. He once again found himself in the unforgiving landscape of Styxx.
"Congratulations." Bast said, as always at his vigil point, "Third time's the charm, eh?"
Meliadol smiled, but didn't answer. He had to get back down to the entrance before the loot on the skeleton he killed disappeared. In most games, bodies vanished after a set amount of time, to both save memory and stop clutter. He wasn't sure how long they stayed in Nevergarden, but he didn't want to find out.
Plus he wanted to kill that last skeleton!
He went to go down the trail leading to, but Bast's hand blocked him.
Bast has requested a party
Accept Decline
Meliadol glanced at the berserker with a raised eyebrow. "You've proven you can kill one. It's inevitable that you can do two now. But your leveling will be slow. Doing it all on your own is admirable, but at least let me show you the joy of others. Nevergarden shouldn't be played alone!" Bast explained.
In the end, Meliadol relented, accepting the invitation. He did it not because he totally agreed with the berserker's words. No, he was a solo player. His earliest days were playing single-player games with his father. Such habits couldn't change overnight. But he accepted out of respect to the help and kindness Bast had shown him.
He watched the berserker's level fall all the way down to level one as he synced with Meliadol's level.
"Alright," Bast began as they approached the one remaining skeleton, "Level sync isn't totally fair, just to let you know. I still get to keep my skills and abilities, though their effect is toned down to the correct level. But playing with me should give you a small window into the amazing experience of playing with a group. Once you've sampled it, you won't wanna go back!"
Bast didn't give Meliadol a chance to respond. The berserker broke into a run, leaving Meliadol scrambling to keep up.
The lone skeleton aggroed onto the berserker immediately, but to a stunned Meliadol, Bast dodged around, continuing into the Boneyard. Within the area, amidst towering piles of bones, groups of enemies milled around; some standing idly, some patrolling. One would have to pull each group carefully, making sure to lure them back enough that others wouldn't notice and join in.
Bast ignored all conventional sense, aggroing several groups at once. By the time Meliadol had finished looting the skeleton he had killed, the berserker had eight rattling skeletons chasing him and was running back toward the entrance, entourage in tow.
"Run off to the side and wait for me to gather them!" Bast yelled, gesturing wildly.
Meliadol didn't need to be told twice, scurrying against the blind-spot of the entrance. The berserker ran right by a mere second later. All the skeletons were firmly focused on Bast, ignoring Meliadol as they skittered past.
Bast skidded to a halt. The berserker faced the rampaging group of skeletons squarely, straightening to his full height. Slowly, Bast reached up a hand to his mouth…and bit deeply into his arm. What the hell? Blood spurted, running freely, dripping off his fingertips. Bast repeated the maneuver with his other arm. His health bar flashed in Meliadol's party screen, falling ever so slightly.
A crimson aura began to surround the berserker, and he roared, bloody teeth and all, challenging any who would dare attack him. The blood flowed freely, but it began to swirl in time with the red aura, no longer dripping, undulating like boiling water across the berserker's skin. A thick heat, like steam, rose from the berserker's body and the blood began to take the shape of a massive sword.
It was easily as wide as Meliadol, and as tall as Bast, yet the blood that formed never stopped moving, whirling in eddies within the confines of its shape. Two crimson rivulets ran from the pommel; one into the wound on the hand that held it, and another all the way up the arm, around the waist, to connect to the cut on the opposite side. They were like anchors to a ship within a storm, each one swollen and glistening in the dull light of Styxx.
It was as if the sword drew blood and power from Bast himself.
Bast saved no time for formalities, rushing forward, sword leading the way. With a mighty leap, the berserker cleared the remaining distance, crashing into the gathered skeletons. Whoom! His landing cracked the stone and dirt, sending out a shockwave that knocked all the surrounding monsters into the air.
They almost seemed to float, stuck in that surprising breath between moments, before Bast spun, his greatsword sweeping up the gathered monsters, throwing them back to the cracked earth. "Come, little Mel!" Bast roared, "I've aggroed them well enough!"
Meliadol had many faults, but indecision was not one of them. As the skeletons began to stand once more, he was already racing in. He didn't have any of the special skills and abilities that Bast did, since he wasn't high enough of a level to earn them, but it didn't stop his sword from whipping back and forth, carving into the distracted skeletons as they turned back to Bast.
Eight skeletons began rushing toward the berserker, and Bast met them in kind, his skin turning an iron grey. He took their blows head-on, jets of sparks ricocheting into the night sky as he rushed forward into the midst of bones and armor. Hand over hand the sword trailed, a trail of crimson flowing behind as the berserker thrust it into the ground. For a split second, he looked the very picture of a solemn knight taking a vow upon his sword and name.
The ground, hard packed earth and stone, bubbled, swelling in thick waves before bursting explosively. Tendrils of crimson spiked up from the ground all around the berserker, impaling the skeletons and holding them aloft once more. Meliadol wasn't one to miss an opportunity, weaving in and around the spikes as his shortsword flashed with deadly intent.
It was obvious what Bast was doing at this point. Bast was staggering the cooldowns of his crowd control abilities, optimizing the time the skeletons spent unable to fight back and reducing the damage he took. Any time the skeletons recovered, they'd be thrown in the air, knocked down, impaled, grabbed. They spent more time recovering from status effects than they spent actually fighting, and the rare moments they were free resulted in meeting the berserker's iron skin.
Meliadol wasn't dense. He could feel keenly the lesson interred within this simple display. Even now, Bast was trying to subtly guide him. It made him think to the future. Once he got level ten, he too would start earning class abilities. Bast's words stuck in his mind. Weren't groups in Nevergarden four people for standard dungeons, and twenty to fifty for raids? How crazy would things become then? What possible combos existed thanks to the DFS?
In no time at all the skeletons fell one-by-one. They were helpless in the end against the combined might of Bast's crowd control and Meliadol's sword. Eighteen skeleton knuckles! Meliadol was pumped as he looted the corpses. His quest was already half completed and at some point during the fight he had reached level two!
He laughed and Bast, sitting down eating food to recover health, gave him a thumbs up in response. "Do you see what I mean, little Mel? Alone, I could kill four, maybe. You could do two. Yet together, one plus one is greater than two!"
Meliadol considered the berserker's words, looking back to the pile of dead skeleton bones. "Do you think eight is our limit?" He asked, eyebrow raised.
"Why? Do you wanna see how far we can take this?" Bast's expression was deadpan as the two stared at each other. A few long seconds passed, but the berserker was the first to break, his face splitting into a devilish grin, "And no, I don't think eight is our limit!"
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