The morning sun, still climbing in the digital sky, cast long shadows across the dew-kissed fields surrounding Oakhaven. ProlixalParagon, the Fennician Tinkerer with his distinctive white fur interwoven with striking black swirls and patterns, moved with a newfound spring in his digitigrade steps. The warmth of the rosemary and thyme bread still lingered pleasantly, a reminder of his successful delivery of firewood to Emmarie the baker. He had spent the remainder of the previous day mending the farrier’s fence and inquiring further about local lore, but a persistent whisper had caught his attention during a brief stop at the Crooked Tankard.
An old farmer, nursing a tankard of something dark and frothy, had mumbled about “stones that weep no water” and “spirits in the still wind” beyond the eastern woods. While most dismissed it as the ramblings of an aging mind, the phrase had resonated with ProlixalParagon’s inherent curiosity and his growing awareness that Ludere Online held secrets beyond its surface. The east was also the direction of the wayshrine of Oelia, the gateway to the wider world, making it a logical direction for exploration.
Leaving the well-trodden path towards the baker’s wood-gathering spot, ProlixalParagon ventured into the denser woods to the east. The air here was cooler, the sunlight filtering through the thick canopy in fragmented shafts, illuminating patches of moss-covered earth and gnarled tree roots. His large, rotating ears twitched constantly, catching the rustling of unseen creatures in the undergrowth and the distant caw of a crow. The forest floor was a tapestry of fallen leaves in various stages of decay, their earthy scent mingling with the sharper aroma of pine needles.
As he moved deeper, the familiar sounds of Oakhaven – the distant hammering of Borin the smith, the occasional bleating of sheep – faded behind him. The trees grew taller, their ancient branches reaching towards the sky like skeletal fingers. The undergrowth thickened, forcing ProlixalParagon to pick his way carefully through ferns and thorny bushes. His agile, digitigrade legs proved their worth, allowing him to navigate the uneven terrain with a fluid grace that his real-world counterpart, Bennett, could only dream of.
He kept an eye out for any unusual formations or signs that might corroborate the old farmer’s whispers. He noticed several peculiar rock outcroppings, their surfaces strangely smooth and devoid of moss, but they didn't seem to “weep” anything. The wind whispered through the leaves, carrying no discernible voices or ethereal presences.
After what felt like a considerable distance, the character of the forest began to change again. The dense canopy thinned, giving way to a more open area dotted with strangely shaped stones. Some were tall and upright, resembling weathered pillars, while others lay scattered on the ground, half-buried in the earth. They were not arranged in any obvious pattern, but there was a sense of age and forgotten purpose about them. The stone was a dark grey, almost black in places, and had a porous texture, like petrified sponge.
Approaching one of the taller stones, ProlixalParagon ran a white-furred paw over its rough surface. It felt strangely warm to the touch, despite the cool air. As he examined it more closely, he noticed faint lines etched into the stone, too worn to decipher any specific symbols but clearly the work of intelligent hands. This was more than just a natural rock formation.
He circled the area, his glowing eyes scanning the surroundings for further clues. He noticed that the ground here was slightly uneven, with subtle depressions that suggested the presence of structures buried beneath the surface. In one such depression, he spotted a cluster of smaller stones arranged in a rough circle, reminiscent of a collapsed hearth or the remnants of a foundation.
Then, as a gust of wind swept through the clearing, ProlixalParagon noticed something truly peculiar. One of the flat, scattered stones, lying half-submerged in a patch of withered grass, seemed to shimmer momentarily. He approached cautiously, his large ears swiveling, and knelt down for a closer look.
The stone was indeed damp, but not with water. A viscous, translucent fluid, almost like thick sap but without any discernible scent, oozed slowly from hairline cracks in its surface. It wasn't a steady flow, but more of a slow, persistent seepage, as if the stone itself was perspiring. These were the "stones that weep no water."
A sense of excitement mingled with trepidation filled ProlixalParagon. He had found something, a tangible link to the old farmer’s tale. He carefully touched the strange fluid. It felt cool and slightly sticky. As his paw made contact, a faint, almost imperceptible whisper seemed to brush against his mind, a fleeting impression of sorrow and loss. The "spirits in the still wind," perhaps?
He spent more time examining the stones, trying to discern any further patterns or clues. He noted the direction of the prevailing wind and how it seemed to interact with the weeping stones, occasionally causing the viscous fluid to ripple slightly. He even tried using some of his rudimentary Tinkerer skills, pulling out a small, crafted lens to examine the etched lines more closely, but the wear was too significant to reveal any clear meaning.
As the sun began its slow descent, casting long, eerie shadows across the clearing, ProlixalParagon knew he couldn't linger indefinitely. The woods could become treacherous after dark, even near the relatively safe starting area of Oakhaven. He marked the location of the weeping stones in his mental map, a point of interest to investigate further. The rumors, it seemed, held a kernel of truth, hinting at a forgotten history waiting to be unearthed just beyond the borders of the tutorial village. The wayshrine of Oelia could indeed wait; the mysteries surrounding Oakhaven were proving far more compelling than he had initially anticipated.
ProlixalParagon carefully rose from his crouched position near the weeping stone, his glowing eyes still fixed on the strange, oozing fluid. The cool, scentless viscosity and the fleeting impression of sorrow continued to resonate within him. He turned his gaze towards the scattered, ancient stones, a sense of wonder and burgeoning curiosity stirring within his digital heart. The old farmer’s ramblings in the Crooked Tankard, initially dismissed as mere folklore, now held the weight of tangible discovery. These ruins were real, and they held a secret.
He thought back to the fragmented details of the farmer’s tale: “stones that weep no water” and “spirits in the still wind.” The weeping stones certainly fit the first part, and the faint whisper he had felt upon touching the fluid could potentially align with the second. He wondered if these stones were connected in some way to the deities the priest had spoken of in the Village Chapel – Ilmas of Soohan, Nakruer of Draggor, or even the nature god Onthir associated with the Red Fox Caravan. Or perhaps they were remnants of an even older power, something tied to the whispered-about Eclipsed One or the Lost Old God of the Lunar Empire.
His mind then turned to the Ludere Online forums, the vast repository of player knowledge and speculation that he had diligently devoured before even logging into the game. He strained his mental faculties, trying to recall any threads, any comments, any passing mentions of unusual stone formations east of Oakhaven or of stones that exuded a strange fluid. To the best of his recollection, the forums were silent on this particular subject.
This lack of information puzzled him, and several possibilities flickered through his thoughts:
The ruins could be a relatively recent discovery, perhaps triggered by some in-game event or environmental shift that other players hadn't yet encountered or documented. The seismic activity mentioned in connection with the lost city beneath the Obsidian Grasslands came to mind. Perhaps a similar, smaller event had unveiled these stones near Oakhaven.
It was also possible that other players, eager to venture beyond the tutorial zone and explore the more expansive world, had simply overlooked these subtle anomalies. Oakhaven was designated as a (tutorial) Village, a starting point designed to introduce basic mechanics. More experienced players might have quickly progressed towards the wayshrine of Oelia, the established pathway to further adventures, without lingering long enough to delve into the less obvious mysteries of the surrounding area.
A more intriguing, and perhaps more unsettling, possibility was that these ruins were intentionally hidden or somehow shielded from widespread knowledge. Could this be some sort of hidden ruins on the map that aren’t in the game’s lore? The thought sparked a flicker of the moral dilemma he might face later, uncovering something the developers had deliberately concealed.
He considered the diverse player base he had read about. Some, like BIGdaddy96024, seemed focused on combat prowess, while others might be driven by crafting or social interaction. Perhaps the subtle lore of weeping stones simply hadn't caught their attention. Even FelineFine, the Altacian ShadowBlade known for stealth and infiltration, might not have reason to explore this particular corner of the woods.
ProlixalParagon ran a thoughtful paw over his chin, the black swirls in his white fur contrasting with the fading light. The silence of the forums regarding these ruins was a mystery in itself, adding another layer of intrigue to his discovery. Was he the first to stumble upon this secret? Or were there others who knew but had chosen to remain silent? The answers, he suspected, lay deeper within the whispering stones and the forgotten history they represented. The wayshrine of Oelia could indeed wait. The tutorial zone of Oakhaven, it seemed, held far more secrets than its initial designation suggested.
A sudden rustling in the nearby undergrowth startled ProlixalParagon from his contemplations. His large, rotating ears swiveled instantly towards the sound, his glowing eyes narrowing slightly as he scanned the dense foliage. He held his breath, his lithe body tensing, ready to react. The woods, though seemingly peaceful, Blair had warned him about Mana Originating Beasts, or Mobs, that weren't always friendly.
After a moment of tense silence, a small, furry creature with iridescent wings, unlike anything he had seen before, fluttered out of the bushes. It hovered in the air for a moment, its multifaceted eyes blinking, before darting away into the deeper woods. ProlixalParagon let out a soft sigh, his muscles relaxing slightly. It was just a creature of the forest, but the brief moment of alert had reminded him that even in this seemingly safe starting area, danger could lurk.
The setting sun was now painting the western sky in hues of orange, purple, and gold, casting long, dramatic shadows across the clearing. The air was beginning to cool, and the sounds of the forest were shifting as nocturnal creatures began to stir. ProlixalParagon knew he needed to start making his way back to Oakhaven before nightfall fully descended.
Before leaving the clearing, however, he decided to take one last look at the weeping stones. He approached the largest of the upright pillars and once again ran his paw over its surface. The viscous fluid still seeped slowly from the cracks, catching the last rays of sunlight and shimmering with an almost ethereal glow. He closed his eyes, focusing his senses, trying again to perceive the faint whisper he had felt earlier. This time, the impression was slightly stronger, a fleeting sense of a story untold, a memory fading into the stone itself. It felt ancient, sorrowful, and undeniably significant.
A thought struck him. Could these stones be related to the Cataclysm that the armorer had mentioned, the event that reshaped the world and the Cataphractan? The armorer had said that "magic twisting the very fabric of the world" during the Cataclysm had changed the races and the land. Could this strange weeping be a lingering effect of that magical upheaval? Or perhaps it was connected to the fall of the land bridge and the sundering of continents?
He also recalled the priest mentioning divine intervention and blessings bestowed. Could these be tears of a forgotten deity? Or perhaps a sign of some ancient curse? The possibilities swirled in his mind, each more intriguing than the last.
With a final, lingering look at the mysterious stones, ProlixalParagon turned and began to retrace his steps towards Oakhaven. The path he had taken was now less distinct in the fading light, but his natural agility and his keen senses allowed him to navigate the undergrowth with relative ease. He kept the mental map of the clearing and the location of the weeping stones firmly in his mind, knowing that this was a discovery he wanted to explore further.
As he walked, he considered whether to share his finding with anyone in Oakhaven. He thought of the friendly priest in the chapel, who seemed knowledgeable about the world's lore. Perhaps he would have some insight into the weeping stones. He also considered Blair, the helpful human he had met. She had mentioned being familiar with the woods and might know of local legends or unusual places.
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However, a sense of caution also held him back. He was still new to this world, and he wasn't sure who to trust or what the implications of revealing his discovery might be. The silence of the forums weighed on him. If this was truly an unknown or forgotten place, sharing it too widely might lead to unwanted attention or even exploitation.
For now, he decided to keep his discovery to himself. He would continue to gather information, to explore the lore he could find in Oakhaven, and to see if any future quests or conversations might shed more light on the weeping stones and their significance.
As ProlixalParagon continued along the increasingly shadowy path, the sounds of the forest shifted from the chirping of daytime birds to the rustling and hooting of nocturnal creatures. His large ears twitched, picking up a variety of sounds – the scuttling of small animals in the undergrowth, the distant call of an owl, and the gentle whisper of the wind through the leaves.
Suddenly, a low growl broke the natural harmony. It was close, coming from just ahead on the path. ProlixalParagon froze, his body tensing once more. He could hear the distinct sound of padded paws on the earth, moving with a predatory intent. His glowing eyes pierced the gloom, trying to discern the source of the threat.
A pair of glowing eyes materialized in the darkness, reflecting his own gaze. They belonged to a large, grey wolf, its teeth bared in a snarl. It was bigger than any domestic dog ProlixalParagon (or Bennett) had ever seen, its muscles bunched and ready to spring. More growls echoed from the trees on either side of the path, indicating that this was not alone. A pack of wolves.
ProlixalParagon knew that wolves could easily defeat individuals below level 10, especially in packs. He was only level 1. This was his first real combat encounter in Ludere Online, and a surge of adrenaline, mixed with a healthy dose of fear, coursed through him.
The first wolf lunged, snapping its jaws. ProlixalParagon reacted instantly, his Fennician agility kicking in. He sidestepped the attack with a surprising burst of speed, his white fur with black swirls a fleeting blur in the dim light. The wolf’s teeth snapped harmlessly in the air where he had just been.
Before the first wolf could recover, another one attacked from the side. ProlixalParagon yelped, feeling the sharp pain as the wolf’s claws raked across his flank. A small amount of health, represented by a translucent bar in his vision, flickered downwards. He knew he couldn't afford to take many more hits.
Remembering his class as a Tinkerer, ProlixalParagon’s mind raced, instinctively seeking any advantage he could create with his limited surroundings. He darted and weaved, trying to gain a moment to assess the environment for potential materials or a defensible position. He let out a series of sharp barks and growls, hoping to buy himself some time.
Seeing a cluster of large, moss-covered rocks near the side of the path, ProlixalParagon nimbly retreated towards them. He scrambled up onto the largest one, putting some distance between himself and the snarling wolves below.
The wolves circled the rocks, snapping and growling, unable to easily reach him on the higher ground. One of them attempted to leap up, but ProlixalParagon, using his agility, kicked out with his hind legs, sending the wolf tumbling back down with a yelp.
Knowing this respite wouldn't last, his gaze frantically scanned the area. As a Tinkerer, he looked for loose stones, branches, anything he could quickly adapt into a makeshift tool or distraction. He spotted several sharp, jagged stones scattered around the base of the rocks.
Thinking quickly, ProlixalParagon began to dislodge the loosest of these stones with his paws. With a grunt of effort, he managed to send a shower of smaller rocks tumbling down towards the wolves. The sudden clatter and sting of the sharp edges against their fur startled the pack, causing them to momentarily scatter and yelp.
Seizing this opportunity, ProlixalParagon focused on the largest wolf, which seemed to be coordinating the others. He grabbed a slightly larger, heavier stone with both paws. With a burst of agility, he leaped down from the rock, aiming his throw. The roughly hewn projectile struck the lead wolf on its flank with a solid thud.
The wolf howled in pain and stumbled, momentarily losing its footing. The other wolves hesitated, their coordinated attack disrupted by their leader's injury and the unexpected barrage of stones.
ProlixalParagon pressed his advantage. He feigned another move towards the injured wolf, then quickly spun and fled down the path towards the faint lights of Oakhaven in the distance. He could hear the growls and snarls of the wolves behind him, but they seemed less determined now. His quick thinking and improvised use of the environment as a makeshift Tinkerer had given him a crucial edge.
He ran as fast as his digitigrade legs could carry him, his heart pounding in his chest. He didn't dare to look back until he saw the familiar wooden structures of Oakhaven come into view. The wolves did not follow him into the village.
Panting, ProlixalParagon stumbled into the relative safety of the village clearing, the adrenaline slowly beginning to subside. He had faced his first foe in Ludere Online and, by utilizing his wits and a Tinkerer's resourcefulness, he had survived. The encounter had been brutal and frightening, a stark reminder that even the seemingly peaceful tutorial zone held real dangers. He knew he would need to be much more cautious in his explorations going forward.
Panting heavily, ProlixalParagon stumbled into the relative safety of the village clearing. His white fur containing swirls and patterns of rich black was slightly ruffled, and he could still feel a stinging sensation on his flank where the wolf’s claws had struck. The familiar sounds of the village – the distant clang of the smithy, the chatter of villagers – were a welcome contrast to the menacing growls he had just escaped.
He leaned against a sturdy wooden fence near the edge of the marketplace, trying to catch his breath. His glowing eyes darted around, half expecting the wolves to follow, but the village remained peaceful. Several villagers glanced at him, perhaps noticing his dishevelled appearance, but no one seemed particularly alarmed. This was likely a common occurrence in the surrounding woods.
A young human boy, the same one who had been helping the baker, Emmarie, earlier, approached him cautiously. "Are you alright, mister... fox-thing?" he asked, his eyes wide with curiosity.
ProlixalParagon, remembering the Fennicians' generally friendly disposition, managed a slightly breathless reply, his voice still carrying a hint of the melodic lilt. "I am... well enough, young one. Had a bit of a run-in with some overly enthusiastic wildlife."
The boy’s eyes widened further. "Wolves? Were they big and scary?"
ProlixalParagon nodded, a slight shiver running through his fur. "Indeed. They were... quite insistent."
An older woman, whom he recognized as a weaver from his earlier exploration, approached them. "Trouble in the woods again, it seems. You best be careful out there, traveler. The wilds can be unforgiving, especially after dusk."
"Thank you for the warning," ProlixalParagon said, inclining his head respectfully. He realized that as a newcomer, he needed to learn more about the dangers lurking beyond the village borders. The priest had mentioned Mana Originating Beasts, and his recent experience had made that term all too real.
He decided to seek out the priest again. He had seemed knowledgeable about the region and its dangers. Perhaps he could offer some advice or even point him towards resources that might help him survive future encounters. The wayshrine of Oelia could wait; for now, survival and gathering information seemed paramount. He still had the quest to repair the farrier's fence and gather coal for the smith, and he wondered if completing those tasks might offer more than just coin and vegetables – perhaps some practical skills or even a bit of combat experience.
With a renewed sense of purpose, ProlixalParagon straightened up, the ache in his flank a persistent reminder of his vulnerability. He began to make his way towards the Village Chapel, his glowing eyes scanning his surroundings with a newfound caution. The tutorial area might be relatively safe, but the encounter with the wolves had taught him that danger could lurk just beyond the familiar paths. As a Tinkerer, he also began to mentally catalogue the items he had seen around the village – perhaps some of them could be repurposed or combined to offer a bit more protection or a way to deter future threats. The experience, though frightening, had ignited a spark of ingenuity within him.
As ProlixalParagon approached the familiar, simple structure of the Village Chapel, the scent of incense wafted gently through the air, offering a sense of tranquility that was a stark contrast to the adrenaline-fueled fear he had just experienced . He pushed open the wooden door and stepped inside, his glowing eyes adjusting to the dim, candlelit interior.
The kind-faced priest was once again tending to the small shrine, his movements slow and deliberate. He looked up as ProlixalParagon entered, a warm smile gracing his lips. "Welcome back, traveler. You seem a bit... flustered. Did your explorations take an unexpected turn?"
ProlixalParagon inclined his head, his large ears drooping slightly. "Indeed, holy one. I encountered a pack of wolves just outside the village. It was... a more harrowing experience than I anticipated."
The priest nodded knowingly. "The wilds beyond Oakhaven hold dangers for the unwary. Especially as night begins to fall, the Mana Originating Beasts become more active. You were fortunate to escape unharmed, though I see a slight injury on your flank."
ProlixalParagon touched the area where the wolf's claws had struck. "It is but a scratch. However, the encounter made me realize my lack of preparedness. As a Tinkerer, I am skilled with tools and creation, but I feel ill-equipped for direct combat. Do you have any advice for a newcomer on how to better survive such encounters?".
The priest rested a hand on the shrine, his gaze thoughtful. "Wisdom and caution are your greatest allies, traveler. Avoiding unnecessary conflict is always preferable. However, when faced with danger, utilizing your skills and the environment can be crucial. As a Tinkerer, you possess an ingenuity that warriors might lack. Observe your surroundings. Can you create distractions? Can you use the terrain to your advantage? Can you perhaps craft a temporary defense or a tool to deter your foes?".
He continued, "Remember the tales of the Fennicians. They are known for their adaptability and cleverness. They might not always be the strongest in a direct confrontation, but they excel at using their wits to overcome challenges. Think like a Fennician, traveler. Be resourceful."
ProlixalParagon considered this advice, his mind racing. He had instinctively used rocks as projectiles, a rudimentary application of his Tinkerer skills. Perhaps he could gather other materials to create more effective tools or traps.
"Are there any skills or knowledge that are particularly valuable for survival in this region?" ProlixalParagon asked. "Perhaps knowledge of local flora and fauna, or common weaknesses of certain beasts?"
"Such knowledge is indeed invaluable," the priest affirmed. "Many villagers possess such wisdom, passed down through generations. The local hunter, for example, could likely tell you much about the habits of the wolves and other creatures that roam these woods. And the village herbalist would know which plants might offer aid or protection."
He then added, "Also, do not underestimate the power of faith. While direct divine intervention is rare, seeking the blessings of the appropriate deity can sometimes offer guidance or protection. In this region, many look to Onthir, the God of the Skies, for safe passage and protection during travels."
ProlixalParagon recalled the armorer mentioning Onthir in connection with the Red Fox Caravan. He made a mental note to inquire about both.
"Thank you, holy one," ProlixalParagon said, a sense of direction beginning to form. "Your guidance is most helpful."
"Remember, traveler," the priest said with a gentle smile, "the world beyond Oakhaven is vast and holds both wonders and perils. Knowledge and resourcefulness will serve you well on your journey. Do not be afraid to ask for help, and always be mindful of your surroundings."
ProlixalParagon offered a respectful bow and turned to leave the chapel. The encounter with the wolves had shaken him, but the priest's words had offered a new perspective. As a Tinkerer, his strength lay not just in brute force, but in his ability to adapt and create. He would seek out the hunter and the herbalist, learn more about the dangers of the wilds, and perhaps even begin to experiment with crafting some basic tools for defense. The wayshrine of Oelia still beckoned, but now he understood that he needed to be better prepared before venturing further into the world. His immediate goals shifted to gathering knowledge and honing his Tinkerer skills within the relative safety of Oakhaven.
