Melia the Magnificent

[Obsidian Mansion]

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Final Act: Complete

Full reset: 5 days, 12 hours, 37 minutes.

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Melia looked at her system screen, noticing that along with her record of the dungeons she had cleared, it also listed her lockouts. As a raid dungeon, the [Obsidian Mansion] had a week-long reset timer, though she wondered if each individual portal or act inside had its own specific lockout.

Either way, she wasn’t going to be bringing the rest of [Sunrise] into this dungeon within a week, for a multitude of reasons. So, she had no qualms about sliding into the remaining available instances and clearing them out. A quick trip out of the dungeon and walking back in told her several things.

First, she still had her ticket from her previous “show”, suggesting they would remain until the dungeon reset itself. Second, when she told the gloves that she was interested in watching the first act, they gave her a different ticket: the same one she had received when the entire group came in. When she handed it to the [Custodians] at the auditorium door, she had to sit through the [Shade of Cromwell]’s speech a second time. She supposed that in real life, there wasn’t a skip cutscene button.

Once the lights came on and the portals reappeared, Melia made her way up the stairs to the stage. Everything seemed to be available; none of the previous chains and locks covered any of the portals. Melia started with the one that was open to them yesterday: Act One.

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Stepping through the portal was like stepping back in time. Melia found herself standing on the bustling streets of Horizon, not as she had recently found them in the last few weeks, but as they’d been during the height of the game. Present-day Horizon was an incredibly impressive city by pre-industrial standards, housing something close to half a million people, but even that grand number paled in comparison to Fantasy Online’s player base at its peak. As the premier human city, it had its fair share of players going about their lives.

Where the game and real world differed, though, was how they each handled that much traffic. The game relied on multiple servers to spread out the populace and reduce the lag, but that wasn’t an option in real life. As such, the streets in this dungeon were overwhelmed by excited citizens, impatient pedestrians, and colorful adventurers loitering about.

A man bumped into Melia as she stared at the scene, slightly overwhelmed, jostling her out of her thoughts and almost knocking her over.

“Watch it,” he said, not bothering to look down and see if she was okay. And as Melia quickly looked up, she realized he wouldn’t have any reason to: the man was, of course, a product of the dungeon.

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[Citizen]

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Level: 50

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A plain, normal, non-aggressive, non-elite mob. Almost everybody in the vicinity was. Their levels ranged slightly, from the high 40s to the low 100s. They all had variations of a common name, too, like [Citizen], [Bystander], or [Passerby].

Or at least that simple type of creature made up about a third of the populace. Melia could see many more people in various types of armor, [Adventurers] and [Mercenaries], which were probably meant to resemble what the players would have been.

At first, Melia was worried about causing a scene after appearing at the corner of a busy street. But with the man bumping into her and not sparing her a second glance, she looked around. Nobody seemed to notice her sudden appearance, and, more interestingly, no one nearby reacted to the portal. But looking at it, the portal had taken on a semi-transparent sheen, as if it had become invisible. Likely, she was the only one who could see it, or any other adventurer who entered this Act.

The more Melia looked around the busy street, the more she could tell this was still a dungeon, merely cleverly disguised to look like the real deal. Behind her, the opposite way the dungeon likely wanted her to travel, was very quickly blocked. Several ox-drawn carts had crashed and a giant pile of boxes “conveniently” blocked the road, while the sidewalks were packed shoulder to shoulder with gawkers who seemed in no hurry to move along. Likewise, the entrances to most shops were discreetly closed off to her, either by physical barriers like locked doors or by simply being too crowded to move through. Melia had a hunch that if she tried walking down any of the side alleys, she’d quickly find they were dead ends.

Despite all of the commotion around her and the four-cart pile-up behind her, Melia found that the streets themselves were suspiciously empty. The dungeon probably didn’t want groups to get too separated and left them a clear path forward. Melia stepped into the middle of the street and nobody batted an eye. She truly was surrounded by “npcs” running off a script.

Melia grinned as she walked forward. Unlike a video game, dungeons had more tactile ways to stimulate her senses. She could smell the tangy, salty air over the ocean. She could feel the warmth of the not-quite-real sun. And perhaps most interestingly, she could hear snippets of conversations amid the grumbling, which very cleverly created a rhythmic, almost tune-like ambiance. If she didn’t know any better, she would have guessed this dungeon had a soundtrack.

Melia followed the street as it ran in a not-very-straight but otherwise direct line. She got so caught up in looking left and right, marveling at the attention to detail amidst the shops and scenery, she almost forgot she was in a dungeon.

Or at least that it could spawn enemy mobs.

Melia rounded a corner, and from an alley on the right, a group of 5 [Ruffians] came rushing toward her.

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[Ruffian]

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Elite

Level: 550

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These were slightly higher than Melia expected to see from the First Act, but then again, the first pack of monsters in any dungeon was usually on the tougher side. And the bare minimum to enter the Act was level 400, while the recommended level was 500. If she had to guess, most players would have run something like this at level 50 to 60, so she guessed the people of this world would probably wait to enter until they were 600.

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The [Ruffians] yelled some generic, cheesy one-liners as they pulled out clubs and daggers. No, thank you, Melia would not be handing over all of her cash, and why, yes, she did have a pretty face.

It did not prevent them from getting [Whirlwinded].

The men went down in a spray of blood, but contrary to what Melia expected, they did not die. Nor were they cleaved in two. Almost like Melia had simply given them “a sound thrashing”, each of them appeared with bruises, cuts, and little swirling stars over their heads as they were [Stunned], their health refusing to drop below a tiny sliver. Once they were defeated, a pair of [Guards] materialized from the sidelines, shouted, “Stop, thieves!” and carted the thugs away.

Suddenly, Melia was reminded that she was taking part in a memory of what had been, and any adventurer who entered this dungeon took on the role of “hero.”

And heroes did not kill civilians in broad daylight, no matter how rough or thuggish they might be.

Most dungeons Melia had ever played focused on monsters, or, if people were involved, they were usually the sort that had turned against Humanity and needed to be eradicated. Things like rogue [Mages] opening portals into different dimensions, cults trying to summon eldritch beings, somebody setting themselves up as a god, or the greatest classic of them all: messing with time.

Finding a dungeon that, at first glance, seemed to be “non-lethal,” or at the very least focused on a period in time where people weren’t trying to kill each other, was a novel experience.

Melia wandered up the street slowly, taking time to see all the sights, while also keeping an eye out for random encounters. After the fourth such time getting ambushed by thugs, Melia realized that everybody in the dungeon fell into one of three categories.

Obstacle. Npc. Enemy.

Each type served a specific purpose, and each had very subtle cues to let delvers know what it was and what it did.

As expected, people in the “obstacle” group did not move or interact with anything Melia did. They made up a good portion of the dungeon’s boundary, creating walls that felt much more organic than the typical “invisible barrier” found inside open-space dungeons. Sometimes they corralled Melia into a particular place or direction, while at others they were randomly clumped together to give the otherwise straight path a little more texture.

Npcs were people Melia could actually interact with. Imagine her surprise when she walked past a florist, who actually called out to hawk her wares! Melia, obviously intrigued, backtracked and entered the building, finding several displays she could browse stocked with filler items that served no real use, but she bought them anyway. Leaving the shop a couple of coins lighter, Melia looked back from the direction she came in a different light. She thought every building was sealed, and now she wanted to find out what else she missed.

Most npcs were very low level, tagged as friendly, and only ever offered a few random words in greeting, no matter how awkwardly Melia stared at them. Some were minor vendors, like the [Florist] and a [Baker], who sold decent restorative food, though it lacked any buffs, while a very select few were event npcs. When Melia got close to several of these, they seemed to trigger an encounter, and Melia had to fight off several [Ruffians] before the npc could be mugged. Melia wondered if they might be part of a quest.

The final group was, of course, the enemies. Made up of [Ruffians], [Thugs], and [Scoundrels], they blended into the crowds until Melia moved past certain thresholds or triggered their detection somehow. It seemed incredibly random at first, until Melia noticed that all three types of people had distinct color schemes.

Obstacles wore primarily blue colors, friendly npcs wore green, while anything that attacked her had a very distinct splotch of red somewhere on their person. Sometimes it was a bandanna, other times an armband; once or twice, an enemy had a red patch on their trousers or an emblem on a vest. One notable enemy was wearing bright red boots.

Melia felt her excitement rising. It had been so long since she’d run a brand-new dungeon, before anybody else had a chance to figure out the secrets, build walk-throughs, or create guides.

Not to mention catalog all of the loot tables and optimize boss rotations.

Some of the npcs were dressed quite…bizarrely, to put it nicely, and Melia was overcome by a wave of nostalgia. She’d gotten used to people in this world dressing as people should, and seeing the dungeon replicate a player’s mishmash of equipment made her laugh. If this weren’t a dungeon, Melia would have been tempted to pull out her crafting gear and blend into the crowd.

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Melia took her time exploring the street of the First Act. She wasn’t being particularly diligent with documenting every enemy encounter, but she also wasn’t on a dedicated scouting mission. Still, Melia dispatched seven packs of mobs before she discovered any bosses, putting this dungeon on the smaller side. As for the boss itself, it was a bit more…unorthodox.

It also cemented this dungeon as a retelling of Melia’s story.

Melia found her way into a plaza that branched into multiple streets. For some reason, it felt familiar to Melia, and she was not surprised to find that only a single path was open at the start. She made her way into the alley and quickly found out why.

It was like getting dunked by an entire bucket of déjà vu.

The alley was only about a hundred feet long and maybe thirty feet wide, with small stalls and carpets spread out for people to hawk their wares. At the end was a crude, if effective, stone furnace.

And at that furnace was a small gnome in the heavy leathers of a [Blacksmith]. She had pale skin, her black hair was set in two high pigtails, and it had streaks of pink highlights running through it. When inspected, Melia was not at all surprised to find her name.

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[Melia]

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Elite

Level: 750

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But Melia, the real one, did not have much time to focus on her counterpart. As soon as she stepped fully into the alley, she was approached by another familiar figure.

“Adventurer! I’m glad you’ve come! You’re just in time for a celebration. We’re just about to get started. Are you interested?”

Melia stared at the man in shock, but the dwarf said nothing, patiently waiting for her reply. Instead, Melia instinctively cast [Inspect].

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[Hank the Tank]

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Hero

Level: ???

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Melia sincerely doubted this dungeon replica of her old friend could possibly be any level high enough that she couldn’t see it. In fact, if she had to guess, the dungeon might not have a definitive level for the man, and it really was unknown, just to preserve the sense of awe and wonder. His status was “hero”, after all, which wasn’t a class at all as far as Melia knew, and it occupied the same place in the status screen that “boss” or “elite” did. But what really got Melia was how much this npc sounded like Hank. Down to the tired, weary, I-desperately-need-a-vacation inflection hiding behind his cheery words.

“Sure!” Melia chirped, slightly saddened by the fact that Hank, who should have known who Melia was at first glance, didn’t recognize her. But she figured here, in this dungeon, she was just an average adventurer, and she was interested in what was about to happen.

If Melia’s hunch was correct, there were about to be a lot of people in this small, crowded side street.

“Great!” the dwarf clapped. “Just bring some of these supplies to whoever needs them, and we’re good to go!”

With those words, a pair of carts rolled into place behind her, effectively blocking the exit and creating an arena. Melia grinned madly. This was a recreation of her first-ever role-playing experience, and it was wild.

Several crates on the ground next to her began sparkling, but at the same time, a commotion rose up from a stall to the left. One of the stall owners was showcasing exotic pets, and several of them escaped. Melia could see the logic here. There were four large stalls, each with an empty place perfectly sized for a crate, and four crates waiting to find a home. If this were a real party, somebody would need to deliver those goods while the rest of the team fought off…what appeared to be a spitting viper, a miniature manticore, and a stubborn goat.

Only, instead of being harmless [Critters] like pets had been in the game, each of them was tagged as a [Boss] and fell into the high 500s for their level. The first to lunge at Melia was the [Miniature Manticore], which was just as adorable right now as it had been in the game. Real [Manticores] were like gryphons; much larger than their fused components and roughly the size of a small shed. This thing was about the size of a St. Bernard and Melia cooed at it before swatting it down with a [Heroic Strike].

She picked up the crate, uncaring of how the [Viper] hissed at her. She supposed each of the three creatures held a role in this boss fight, much like classes in a party. If the [Manticore] had been the tank, the [Viper] was the ranged dps. Melia dropped off the first box, but as she turned her attention to the snake, it fled. It seemed programmed to keep a certain distance from anyone else. Melia nodded; that could create an interesting gimmick for a normal party.

She wasn’t normal, and all she had to do was [Charge] into it and end it with a shoulder check.

She picked up another crate, but immediately discovered the [Goat]’s role: douchebag.

Its strikes were painless, pitiful in comparison to anything else of its level, but what it lacked in damage, it made up for with spirit. Its kicks packed a punch! Melia was going to brush it off and ignore it until she’d delivered the rest of the boxes, but it leapt in front of her, squared up, reared back…and sent her flying across the arena. Not only did Melia find herself splatted comically against a wall, but she had dropped the crate in the process. So, this thing was the disruption, then? Easy enough. Melia ran up to it, gave it a good [Slam], and went back to the pile of crates. Fortunately, the one she dropped respawned.

Unfortunately, the [Goat] didn’t die.

In fact, it didn’t seem to have a health bar, and like [Copperpot] back in the [Boondocks], it couldn’t be killed. Or incapacitated, as Melia glanced at the other pets who were sprawled on the ground with swirling stars above their heads. With the second crate retrieved once more, the [Goat] made its move, and again Melia was sent flying. This time, she found herself sliding down the side of the crude forge.

“Nice day for it, right?” Fake-Melia giggled. Real-Melia sighed and shook her head.

“Get back to work, past me.”

Melia took another swing at the [Goat], this time watching what happened. The [Goat] reeled, stunned, but quickly recovered. Melia only gained about a second and a half of uninterrupted time.

As a single-gnome party, this could be tricky.

But then again, soloing old content designed to be conquered by huge raids of multiple parties was something of a specialty of Melia’s.

Dungeon bosses were always designed to be faster than players in the game. But how did that translate to real life? Not every single person could run at the same speed. And Melia might be tied down by cooldowns, but they were much shorter in real life than they had been when she was a character.

Melia went for an old classic. [Bellowing Shout] to fear the monster, rooting it in place, [Hamstring] to reduce its speed…then a quick [Leap] back to the crates, hitting [Sprint] before picking them up, then yelling “Woop woop woop woop woop!” as she made her escape.

In no time flat, all four crates were delivered, and the [Goat] slumped over, exhausted and defeated.

But this boss encounter wasn’t over yet.

The carts blocking the exit weren’t removed, and Melia guessed she would have just enough time to chow down on some bread before the next phase started. Sure enough, [Hank] came running back over.

“Great work handling those beasties, lass!” he said. “How about lending a hand with the musicians?”

Melia groaned. Since so many people showed up to role-play in this alley, they decided to throw a party. And what went best with a party?

Music and food.

Melia didn’t know if they brought out any food back when this really happened, because she spent the entire time, mostly oblivious, slaving away at the forge. She remembered several people setting up and using in-game instruments to play real music.

Somehow, she doubted the dungeon understood what a meme was.

The first song the [Bards] had played once the group got onto the same page was “Viking Gods”. Apparently, once upon a time, a famous publisher of multiple game genres included it in a city-builder, where the appropriately metal soundtrack absolutely did not fit. It went viral for a while and lived on as a meme, becoming the go-to theme song for mundane tasks done far too seriously.

Well, here, the [Bards] did play Viking Gods, and a crowd of [Angry Hooligans] came rushing out to form an impromptu mosh-pit. With Melia in the center.

She assumed this was a straightforward survival check where the tank needed to keep the damage away from the squishies, but Melia popped a [Bladestorm] and cut them all down long before the concert could progress to Rick Roll territory. Even if the dungeon didn’t use that as a timer to enrage the boss, Melia certainly would be.

With two phases of the boss down, Melia knew there would be a third, and because this dungeon was focusing on her, in a roundabout way, she understood what was coming.

“Great work, Adventurer!” Hank came running back, and Melia secretly wondered what exactly was great about what had just happened. Was it great that she shut down the crowd before they could mosh all the crafters? Maybe. “Nothing like a little light music to really set the mood! With all that out of the way, I’d say this celebration is a rousing suc- by the gods!”

Melia groaned. She turned, as she was expected to do, toward the forge in the corner. [Melia], who had been innocently slaving away the entire time, had built up a substantial pile of [Iron Ingots]. She was also about to use a crucial [Blacksmithing] skill: [Baelor’s Blessing].

As a crafter, it enhanced her crafting success rate when creating duplicate recipes, so it was helpful when grinding a lot of one thing to make even more of the one thing. Melia had used it after making 500 [Iron Ingots], making crafting the next 500 practically free. It used up a ton of mana and required very high crafting stats, but the ability itself was actually quite flashy. It summoned a [Greater Fire Elemental], designed to be an emissary of [Baelor], but the effect was purely cosmetic.

Since Melia hadn’t used it yet since waking up, she didn’t realize it would summon a real, genuine monster.

“BY FIRE BE–”

Melia said no to that. She [Charged] over, gave it a [Pummel] to silence and a [Slam] to shut it up for good. She watched in satisfaction as the roaring inferno snuffed like a weak candle, evaporating with a faint wail as a hunk of coal dropped to the ground.

“Adventurer, excellent!” [Hank] practically roared. He clapped Melia on the back and she nearly stumbled, forgetting that even if he was a scripted dungeon monster, [Hank the Tank] was a real person. “You really took care of that elemental! Why, I’d say you have the markings of a hero yourself!”

Ahhh, Melia thought. Perhaps this is how the story starts. The seeds of pride are planted deep.

Was that the “heroes” side of Cromwell’s tale? Did they start out as humble adventurers, simple servants of the Light, and eventually lose their way? When they had defeated everything and had nothing left to best, had they turned their eyes toward her? Along with her very famous piles of treasure?

Or so the script might say.

Now, Melia’s treasure was a very different thing, but she still looked to the center of the alley, where [Hank] had dropped off a treasure chest as a reward for her troubles. Melia kicked it open and was conflicted at the sight of the blunt weapon that looked suspiciously like a baseball bat.

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[Cold-iron Beat Stick]

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Level: 550

Rarity: Epic

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Strength: 850

Constitution: 710

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On hit: has a 1% chance to silence the enemy for .5 seconds.

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Useful in keeping the tempo, denting pots and pans, and is the perfect cure for a tone-deaf [Bard].

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Technically, it was a one-handed mace, and it wasn’t soulbound. Maybe someone in [Sunrise] might want it? Either way, the only use Melia had for the bat was to add it to her sizable collection of unique-looking weapons, so she stashed it in her inventory and moved on.

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Now, dungeons could have any number of bosses the developers put in, or Chaos, Melia assumed for this world. In reality, most dungeons had somewhere between 1 and 7, depending on their purpose. Some dungeons were little more than arenas designed to clobber a single monster, while others were elaborate labyrinths meant to take hours. Raids were a different story, sometimes having upwards of a dozen, but as Act One was only a 5-man instance, Melia figured there’d be fewer.

Technically, even though she just went through a whole slew of fights in that alley, Melia only considered that to be one boss encounter. From when the “gates” were shut until she was allowed to leave was the generally accepted duration of a single boss. With the first boss down, Melia returned to the plaza to find out what was next.

With this dungeon focusing on Cromwell’s play revolving around her, Melia was curious what might come next. As far as she knew, her part was already over. If Act One only focused on a single day, she really shouldn’t be present for the rest of it. That day, so long ago, she had spent hours crafting and done nothing else. She set foot down the newest alley, which conveniently opened up, ready for anything.

In some regards, Melia was disappointed. The next alley, and the one to follow it, too, did not have anything to do with her. Oh, it was interesting in its own right, setting the “heroes” up for the next part of the story. She visited a dark alley, where she met with a [Shadowy Figure], a literal silhouette of a person with completely average human proportions and a forgettable voice. Melia was told to be wary of the shadows and the threats that lurked within (which was ironic given what she was talking to), and had to fight off a very straightforward boss. It was a single beefy [Enforcer] and two [Henchmen], the gang's higher-ups who had been harassing Melia the entire time. But before the [Shadowy Figure] could be scared off, it planted the seeds of doubt, saying not everybody in the [Hero’s Party] could be trusted; that bright smiles hid dark hearts.

Melia assumed the [Figure] was referring to her, but she didn’t like the insinuation, even if she knew that’s where the story went. And technically, she was never really part of the [Hero’s Party], if this story were canon. That honor went to five people and five people only; at best, Melia was a special guest.

Her mood turned gloomy, and she was distracted enough that she didn’t pay very much attention to the next segment of the dungeon. Something about sparring with a [Knight Captain] and proving their worth for the trials yet to come.

It wasn’t until after the [Captain] yielded (and Melia claimed her loot) that something shook her out of her funk. The ground shook, the sky darkened, and yells cried out all around the city. Melia looked up, just in time to see a black shape descend in a flash. She couldn't help the massive grin spreading across her face, and she rushed back to the plaza with all due haste.

There, much to her delight, was the figure of a gigantic [Obsidian Dragon] blocking the only remaining path.

“Oh ho ho,” the [Obsidian Dragon] called out. “What a glorious den I have found! Perhaps I shall rest.”

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Melia studied the creature, surprised to see, once again, the level (and name) was different from the finale. She supposed it made sense, since this was, in theory, in the past, before anyone knew who she was.

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[Obsidian Dragon]

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Boss

Level: 600

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Or, all but one person, it seemed.

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“Begone, foul beast!”

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Melia turned, curious to see who had the gumption to stand up to a dragon blocking a whole intersection. To her great surprise, it was a mailman, of all things, and he was chucking rocks at the dragon’s side. They bounced off impotently, and he was completely ignored.

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[Bartolo Andrini]

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Level: 350

Class: Vice-Postmaster

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Melia had to give it to the guy. He was rocking some serious stones.

“Don’t worry, fam!” she called out, knowing full well he probably wouldn’t respond. “I gotchu!”

Melia pulled out her swords, grinned, and pointed them at herself…because there was only one dragon who ever pulled a stunt like this.

“Sorry, dungeon-me,” she whispered as she sped forward in a [Charge]. “You know how it is. Play the game until somebody comes along with a bigger stick. Loot calls, and all that.”

One strike later, the [Obsidian Dragon] squawked in surprise, its meager health bar depleted but not empty. It flapped its wings, hovered momentarily, and quickly flew away. Melia grinned at the now-opened final passage, leading very briefly to a short alley containing a final chest.

But, as Melia strode forward to claim her goods, she had to stop and wonder: how would everybody else respond to what she had always thought of as a good prank on a fun day?