The Quest_Last Gods Book 1 Page 2

  “I am not allowed to give that information out, Jason. For that, I am sorry.”

  “Can you stop being sorry and start being helpful?”

  Angela let out a sigh.

  “What? Since when can an AI sigh?”

  “You have much to discover. I have scanned your brain and while I am not a fan of this attitude you are displaying it is understandable. However, your scans indicate that you are a decent guy if not a little crass. So I will bend the rules and say that if you chose to be a Ranger you might not be disappointed.”

  “Oh? Oh! Oh, I see. Alright then. Ranger it is.” He allowed a victory smile.

  “Good choice Jason.”

  “Uh, thanks I guess.,” he replied. “It's weird that you sound like you didn’t see it coming. Just sayin…”

  “One thing left to do, Jason. What would you like to be called?”

  “Character name you mean?” He asked.

  “Sure, let's go with that,” Angela replied.

  “I have given this a lot of thought. I mean a fuck ton. Even did a fair amount of research. As a result I think a Hunter should be called Actaeon.”

  “Greek mythology, very nice. From now on I will refer to you as Actaeon. Well, maybe you should reconsider. That is a mouthful. Actaeon. Actaeon. Ac tae on.” She said the name in different tones as if tasting it.

  “Sounds good to me.” He let loose another victory smile. Things were looking up.

  “I promised you answers, but there are some rules I can not bend, not even for you, Jason… err.. Actaeon. I hope you understand that this isn’t my doing,” she said.

  “I don’t follow. And frankly, you are kind of scaring me,” he replied. Maybe ‘looking up,’ was premature.

  “The strongest blades are forged in the hottest fires. Good luck Actaeon.” Angela said.

  The blue faded to black.

  CHAPTER 2

  The brush parted easily for Larion giving him easy passage. The woods close to his home were dense which didn't allow a lot of light to filter down for the smaller plants. This was also a part of the problem.

  “Patty!” Larion cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted again. “Patty! Where the heck are you?”

  He trudged on in search of his missing animal. As the guardian of his flock of sheep, he felt responsible for every single one, even the most troublesome one Patty. His family decided to let Patty go and get into whatever trouble she might, but Larion couldn’t do it. He knew deep down that Patty was just an adventurous soul with boundless curiosity. How could he fault her for that?

  But there were times when he considered giving in to everyone when they say to let her wander off and not give chase. This was one of those temptations.

  “Patty, enough is enough. Get out here this instant. It is time to go home. Patty!”

  A response came in the form of a sheep’s bleat. It was distant and slightly off to the right. Larion adjusted course and picked up his pace.

  The bleat came again but in a high pitch almost sounding like a shrill cry. He knew that sound. Patty was in trouble yet again.

  “Hang in there, Patty. I’m coming.”

  Larion dashed through the brush and zig-zagged around the trees in the direction Patty’s cry originated from. The sound of Patty’s plight cut through the forest once again. Larion adjusted his course slightly right and pushed his legs harder.

  He burst into the clearing and the sight before him stopped him cold. Patty was backed up to a large rock that looked like the tip of a spear poking from the ground. Three wolves moved back and forth in front of Patty. They growled and snapped at her but had yet to move in for the kill.

  A quick look around and Larion found not one stick to wield or rock to throw. Without a weapon, he was left with two options, one of which was to flee. In his opinion running was not an option. So Larion went with the other plan.

  He ran around the clearing coming to the back of the spear rock. He scurried up the backside and leaped off once he reached the top. His jump took him over Patty and in front of the wolves. He bent his knees to absorb the shock the shot back up to standing.

  “Roar!” Larion raised his hand over his head as he screamed at the wolves. The idea was to appear the bigger foe and scare the wolves away. “Roar! Get out of here before I eat you! Roar!”

  The wolves stopped and stared. One of them tilted it’s head to the side. Then as is driven by one mind the three beasts raised their heads and let loose howls. They lowered their faces to look right at Larion and their howls became growls.

  Larion waved his arms and roared once more. “Maybe you are not understanding me. Get out of here!” The wolves took a step closer. “Oh crap. I think you may have finally killed us, Patty. They don’t seem to be afraid of me.” Patty bleated.

  The wolves stepped closer. Their lips peeled back revealing rows of sharp looking teeth. Larion lowered his arms. It made no sense to wave hem over his head while three wolves ate his innards. He raised his arms up defensively ready for what was coming.

  The closest wolf jumped at him. Larion closed his eyes.

  The familiar words of a fireball spell filled his ears. Heat washed over Larion, but there was no impact from the wolf hitting him. He cracked one eye open and saw the charred remains of a wolf at his feet. Then the stink of burnt hair and charred meat hit his nose. It was all he could do to not retch.

  “Are you okay?” Larion’s father shouted to him. “Hold that response. Two more wolves.” LArion watched his father make the hand gestures and say the word to launch two more fireballs. One wolf died in a fiery explosion. The second blast missed but the wolf ran off so it was a success as far as Larion was concerned.

  “I am fine, Pa,” Larion said as his father approached.

  Larion’s father put his hand on his son’s shoulder. “I am glad to hear it, boy. One of these days you are going to have to let Patty find her own way clear of danger.”

  “But Pa…”

  His father held up his hand stopping Larion’s response. “ I know you feel responsible for all of your charges, and you should, but only up to a point. When your life is constantly being put on the line it may be time to evaluate the situation.”

  “How do you mean?” Larion asked.

  “If saving Patty kills you who is going to watch the rest of your flock?”

  That gave Larion pause. His father did have a valid point. His death could mean the death of his flock or that someone else would have to assume his duties. That was not acceptable. “I see your point. I will be more careful and weight my decisions to chase Patty going forward.”

  “That is all I can ask.” Larion’s father wussed hi har. “Let’s get going before your ma starts to worry.”

  CHAPTER 3

  The vast blue emptiness faded to black in the span of an eye blink. The sudden change coupled with the AI’s words set Actaeon on edge. “Uh, Angela? Are you there?” Actaeon asked.

  Silence.

  “Umm…”

  Bright white light burst into existence blinding Actaeon. The intensity of it hurt his eyes, which scared him and seemed ridiculous at the same time. How could he feel pain in this virtual space?

  Before he could see there were voices. “We got anover one!” A gruff voice shouted. “Quick, bring it while he discombobulated.”

  “Coming boss.” A less masculine voice joined in.

  “That the problem wit dis gods’ blasted place, buddy. Everyone too slow.” It seemed like the gruff voice was addressing Actaeon. He didn’t respond. Actaeon wanted to know who was talking to him before giving an answer.

  The blinding light brought with it an intense headache.

  After a moment of just hearing feet on what sounded like gravel crunching and shuffling his visions started to clear. The first thing Actaeon saw in his new game world was a mottled green skinned creature reaching out with a collar.

  Is that a damn gremlin?

  The leather band with metal clasps snapped closed around Ac
taeon’s neck.

  “What the hell?” Actaeon shout. He pushed the big eared little monster away. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Da oder problem wit dis place is da noobs. None of you get told what come next,” it said. Then it leaned back and let loose a laugh. Even though it couldn't be more than three feet tall it had an impressive girth that shook as it laughed.“Git dis one on it feet and to da cage!” It snapped.

  Two large men covered in fur stepped forward. One was gray with brown leopard spots while the other was orange and white with black tiger slashes. Both had heads that were a mix of human and cat with large ears sticking straight up. Both wore tattered tunics and ragged shorts. The color of their clothes was indeterminate thanks to the dust and grime ground into the material.

  “One mo ting,” The gremlin said. He turned and produced a small black amulet from his silk shorts. He smiled then the amulet began to glow.

  Actaeon’s nerve endings lit up with pain. His back arched as all of his muscles tensed. His body was trying to tear itself apart and if the little monster with the amulet didn’t let up his body just might succeed.

  The pain stopped. Actaeon collapsed. He wheezed as ragged breaths left him.

  “Don’t foget dat, hooman. I, Lurge run dis place. Don’t foget.” The little monster whistled as he walked away.

  The cat-men each grabbed one of Actaeon’s arms and hauled him up. That was the first time he got a look at his surroundings.

  All around were stands now devoid of people. Four evenly spaced gates broke up the seating area. The stands ringed a circle of hard packed dirt that sported large dark patches. There was no doubt in Actaeon’s mind that he had spawned in an arena.

  What did puzzle him was how his new buddies knew where to wait. Had the disembodied voice that called itself Angela told them? Something he would try to get answered once he figured out what was happening.

  Actaeon was guided toward the closest doors in the stands. His awakening had left him dazed and the effects still lingered. His muscles ached from his ‘lesson’ at Lurge’s hands. Which was why he lost his footing and fell. The claws of the man to his right dug deep grooves in his arm as he tore free.

  “Stoo pid humon,” the one still clutching his arm said. The cat-man kicked Actaeon in the ribs.

  The blow sent Actaeon flying and knocked the air out of him. The pain he felt from the blow was quickly ignored due to not being able to breathe.

  A red health bar appeared at the top left of his vision allowing him to see the gradual decline of his HP.

  As he gasped for air the cat-men hauled him back up and dragged him the rest of the way. When the large door swung open Actaeon was breathing and standing on his own. The pain in his side caused by the kick hadn’t lessened.

  The interior was dark. Torches were spaced just far enough to not have them walking through pitch black, but the torches didn't offer enough light to make the tunnel seem any less depressing than a back alley opium den.

  The tunnel opened up to a wide chamber of sectioned off cages running the length of it. The kindly cat-men lead Actaeon between a row of cages. He looked left and right taking in the scene. People of human and various races sat in the small cells. None looked up as they passed. All wore rags worse than what the cat-men called clothing.

  After a few hundred yards they came to an empty cell. The door made of metal bars was pulled open and Actaeon was shoved inside.

  He landed face first on a pile of hay and stuff he tried not to think about even though some got in his mouth. Any thought of being the first occupant was quickly put out of his mind when he saw the skeletal hand in the corner. He pushed himself away from the remains as he spat awful from his mouth.

  Raucous laughter from the cat-men assaulted Actaeon. He turned and glared at them. That made them laugh harder. Actaeon kept up his glare and the cat-men continued laughing. The one on the right laughed so hard he fell to the floor and rolled around on his back. This continued for several humiliating minutes.

  Eventually the laughter died down to a chuckle and the cat-men lost interest. An occasional giggle would escape one or the other as they marched back down the row of cages.

  “What the hell did I get myself into,” Actaeon muttered.

  “You are a slave of the Krail Empire,” came a response from his left.

  Actaeon found the wielder of the squeaky voice. A tan gremlin male with brown spots was staring at him. The creature looked a lot like Actaeon pictured a gremlin to look with a short lean body and a long snout. Over its left eye was a spot that made Actaeon wonder if calling him spot would be acceptable or get him in more trouble than he was already in.

  “You can kiss goodbye to any thoughts you had of freedom, rights, or happiness. You will serve to entertain the citizens of the Krail Emperor. Nothing else in your life matters from here on out. Good luck to you.”

  The gremlin laid down on his side with his back to Actaeon.

  “Who are you?” Actaeon asked.

  The gremlin didn’t respond.

  “You will not get anything else from him,” said someone from across the aisle.

  Actaeon's head snapped up to see who spoke. The cage across from him was shrouded in darkness. There was a silhouette of a person roughly Actaeon’s size sitting up. He couldn’t discern anything else from the dark form.

  “You are lucky he told you that much,” the shadow said. The voice was husky yet discernibly feminine

  At least he was sure it was a she. The voice was gruff but it carried a feminine lilt. Her voice reminded him of the starlets that played powerful characters but would never be considered beautiful.

  “And who might you be?” Actaeon asked.

  “A slave, just like you. Who I once was no longer matters. As it doesn’t with you. Rest now. Tomorrow you will fight and it will not be pleasant,” she said.

  “But I have questions,” Actaeon pleaded.

  The woman didn't respond. She sat motionless in the darkness.

  “Please?” He tried again.

  Still no response.

  A thought occurred to Actaeon then. He sat up straighter as a smile born of hope crossed his lips. He willed the command interface to appear. Most of the available commands were grayed out. He had access to the quest log, character sheet, and HUD settings.

  What Actaeon expected was a way to log out of this fucked up game.

  “You have got to be fucking kidding me!”

  With the absence of a log out he decided to see what he was working with. He thought of his character sheet and it appeared before him.

  Name:

  Actaeon

  Level:

  1

  Class:

  Ranger

  Attributes

  Strength:

  1

  Dexterity:

  2

  Stamina:

  2

  Charisma:

  1

  Intellect:

  1

  Luck:

  2

  Profession

  Profession:

  None

  Level:

  Skills

  Skill

  None

  Abilities

  Ability

  None

  In addition there was a box containing an image of his character surrounded by slots for equipment. Currently he only had stuff in his chest and his legs slot.

  Chest: Sleeveless Tunic

  Durability 9/9

  Armor 0

  Legs: Cloth Wrap

  Durability 9/9

  Armor 0

  “Stupid starter gear,” Actaeon mumbled.

  CHAPTER 4

  Sleep did not come easy that first night.

  His mind was a whirlwind of questions and concerns. Why was this happening? What was he in for when the sun comes up? Why can’t he log off? What the hell is wrong with this fucked up game?

  For the millionth time, Actaeon brought up the settings menu. Log off was
grayed out and inaccessible. He growled in frustration.

  “You should worry about getting some rest. There is no logging out, I’m afraid.”

  The voice startled Actaeon causing him to jump.

  “Forgive me,” A man to his right said. A grime covered hand reached through the bars of the neighboring cage. “The name is Endraloreacane, but you may call me Cane for short.”

  Actaeon took the proffered hand noticing for the first time that his own hand was just as filthy. “The name is Actaeon. I wish I could say it’s a pleasure. Maybe if circumstances were different,” Actaeon said.

  “I understand,” Cane said. The two men shook then pulled their hands back. “As I was saying. Tomorrow will be a busy day for you, and a difficult one. If you want a chance at surviving to see the day after you really need to rest up.”

  “What exactly do you mean by, ‘surviving,’ to see another one?” Actaeon asked.

  “Many people don’t make it past their first day here. The initial trials are deadly and honestly too high for a level one person. Those of us that make it usually just get lucky. I managed to fall into a hole and remain unnoticed until the event was over. The holes have been shored up since then. I wouldn’t count on that happening to you.”

  “Can you tell me what the trials are?” Actaeon inquired.

  “It might be best to go into them with no expectations. See your situation with fresh eyes, as it were,” Cane replied.

  “I can appreciate that, Cane. I really can, but I would really like to know. I’m more of a plan ahead kind of guy. On the spot, creativity seems to escape me. Any info you can share would go a long way to ensure I do get to see the day after tomorrow. Please, Cane?”

  Cane let out a long sigh. His rancid breath managed to target Actaeon’s nose and hit it with the force of a charging bull. He just waved his hand in front of his face and kept any comments to himself. It wouldn’t due to insult someone that could help.

  “Very well. I’m sure you were able to discern the nature of the building we are in, yes?”

  “A stadium for gladiator fights I’m guessing,” Actaeon said.

  “Correct. So for your first trial, you will be placed in a match. It could be anything from one on one armed combat to man versus beast, to historical enactments in which you are the bad guy and a group of other gladiators must slay you. Either way, it will be unpleasant at best,” he said.