by Randy Nargi
“Of course he is. The little shit.”
“What’s our timetable on pulling the plug, sir?” Noon asked.
“I’ll give Margolin his six days. I want everything documented. The Loneskum-Alexander board is not going to be happy when we terminate their contract. We’ve got to be real careful here. There are a lot of fingers in this pie.”
He got up to leave. “Nice work, gentlemen.”
Chapter Nineteen
Pari woke up in one piece. With all her clothes still on. That was an improvement, right?
The earliest rays of dawn’s light streamed through the low trees that surrounded her. The air was cold and damp and her cloak was soggy. She stood and stretched out her sore arms and legs and looked around. Nothing but thin forest in all directions, shrouded in low fog. The trees were some sort of juniper trees from the looks of them. Maybe she could gather up the berries and make herself some gin. She knew that Lazarus was a big fan of gin.
Then she realized that she hadn’t heard back from Lazarus. That wasn’t like him. Even if things were still hairy in the dungeon, he’d shoot back a quick voice message.
Now she was getting worried.
Pari spent several minutes leaving messages for the other members of the fellowship: Mariel, Sato, Celia, Benet, and Donagher. Someone would get back to her.
That reminded her. She totally spaced on messaging back to Justin. The kid must be freaking out.
“Message to Justin: I am so sorry for not getting back to you sooner. Something happened to me at the party that wasn’t cool. Long story short, I was kind of kidnapped and am trying to make my way back to civilization. If all goes well, I’ll be in Port Arlin sometime today and then will travel down to Oakford Cross. If you can, please meet me there. It’s directly east from Tashon’s Gate. Ok. Wish me luck. Bye.”
Well, now she didn’t feel so guilty.
Pari kicked the dirt around where she had slept. Wainwright had told her that doing so was a good practice; it made it tougher to be tracked. Then she relieved herself and set off, hiking towards the rising sun.
She saw some deer, a bear, and some kind of large reptilian creature, but she gave them all a wide berth. Thankfully, there were no signs of the canoe men.
In the daylight she found it much easier going. The forest wasn’t too dense, and while the ground sloped up, it was a gentle slope.
After fifteen minutes she found a little brook and was able to drink—which was good, because she was starting to feel a little dehydrated. In addition to sleeping, the game required you to eat and drink at least once every two days or you’d start to suffer. Some players chafed at the amount of bio-related realism built into OmniWorld, but she didn’t mind eating, drinking, sleeping, or even pooping. She was just grateful that she didn’t have to shave her legs or pluck her eyebrows. The game designers were kind enough not to simulate constantly growing body hair.
The sun finally got off its ass and burned through the morning fog and Pari felt warm for the first time in 24 hours. And then she found the road.
Thank goodness!
She actually skipped a little as she pushed through the brush and stood on the hard-packed dirt road.
Civilization, at last! But where the hell was she?
She jogged along the road a hundred yards in one direction, then came back and jogged a hundred yards in the other direction. No signs. No people. But the road appeared to run roughly northwest to southeast. That meant her calculations had been correct, and this was the road that connected Port Arlin and Oakford Cross. So she must be southeast of Port Arlin.
That was good news. It would be a long walk, but Oakford Cross couldn’t be any farther than fifteen miles away. If she wolf-trotted it, she’d be in the town in six or seven hours.
Pari set off. For the first hour or so, she had the road to herself. Then she saw two other players ride towards her, a guy and a girl, both Level 4s. He was a scout, and she was a battle mage. They didn’t really want to stop and chat, but they did tell her that Oakford Cross was less than two hours away. That was a lot closer than she had thought.
As she neared the town, the road became more crowded. There were NPC merchants, travelers, and guards, as well as a bunch of players. Finally she caught a glimpse of the spires of Wyndon Castle, the tallest structure in Oakford Cross.
But before she entered the town proper, Pari got a strange notification:
:::::. The Fellowship of Wood and Silence: you are now the fellowship leader .:::::
What the hell? This didn’t make any sense.
Then it hit her and she almost screamed aloud.
Lazarus! No!
She pushed her way through underbrush, moving off the trail, and sat down on a fallen tree and took a deep breath.
It must be some kind of mistake.
She tried to pull herself together.
“Message to Lazarus: I got a weird message just now. Please, please, contact me.”
:::::. Message could not be delivered. No such player as Lazarus .:::::
No! It couldn’t be—
She sent messages to the rest of the fellowship. Just three words. “Contact me. Urgent.”
Her stomach knotted as she got four error messages back:
:::::. Message could not be delivered. No such player as Benet .:::::
:::::. Message could not be delivered. No such player as Celia .:::::
:::::. Message could not be delivered. No such player as Sato .:::::
:::::. Message could not be delivered. No such player as Donagher .:::::
The only message that was delivered was the one to Mariel.
Another wave of nausea hit her hard, and Pari started to hyperventilate. She put her head between her legs and tried to slow her breathing, but it was no use.
They were all dead. Everyone but Mariel.
How?
Justin awoke in the top floor of a granary not far from the stockade wall. He had figured that no one would bother him there and it would be safer than trying to sleep in the woods.
As he sat up, he got an alert:
:::::. New message from Pari. Listen? .:::::
“Yes.”
While he listened to the message, a feeling of relief washed over him. It was good to hear her voice and to know she was okay. But kidnapped? That was weird. He couldn’t wait to hear that story, and also to tell her what had happened to him. First, he’d have to get his ass over to Oakford Cross.
But what about Klothar? He had no idea of what happened when an NPC died. Did they rez at a Life Tree like players?
He decided to hike over to the Life Tree west of the fort and see if there was any sign of the ranger. But first he wanted to examine the stuff in Wreman’s satchel. He slipped on his ring and smiled as his body became ghostly. Then he just walked through the outer wall of the granary and gently floated to the ground below.
He took a quick look around to see if anyone had noticed him, but there was no one within sight. After removing the ring and tucking it away, he walked a few hundred yards west down the road and then ducked off into a little grove of trees that couldn’t be seen from the road. What sucked was that now he could feel a headache coming on. Could it have been from the ring? If so, that would be really bad. He didn’t want some magic ring stealing his soul or anything.
Justin carefully emptied the contents of Wreman’s satchel on an old stump and stared at the items arranged there. The bell was made of copper and was small—about the size of an egg. It didn’t have any markings on it, but it looked old and tarnished, like maybe it was an antique. He was really curious, but he didn’t want to ring the bell just yet. Just his luck it would summon Cree’arak the Lich or maybe something even worse. Time for a little overlay action.
:::::. Unknown .:::::
Really? It was obviously a bell. Couldn’t the game just confirm that? Oh well. After wrapping the bell in some leaves to keep it quiet, he tucked it back into the satchel.
Next he held the diamon
d up to the light. It looked like the same cloud diamond Wreman had shown him in the tavern. And the little flickers of light still danced within the gem. Justin’s knowledge skill had helped him identify the gem as a cloud diamond, but he had no idea of what it was actually worth. Only a jeweler or gem crafter could tell him that. Just to be sure, he inspected it.
:::::. Cloud diamond (gem). An extremely valuable item .:::::
The last item was maybe the most interesting—aside from the magic ring. It was the wax tablet Wreman had been looking at when they found him in the back room. There was a very odd sketch on it.
It appeared to be some kind of stick figure with a big head or a headdress. Almost like the petroglyphs he had seen in Hawaii when he was a kid. The figure was roughly humanoid, but had four arms, and it looked like it was jumping off of a cliff or floating near a cave. Justin couldn’t decide which. Maybe inspecting it might offer some clues.
:::::. Wax tablet (common item). For drawing or writing. Usable .:::::
Duh. It was probably too much to ask for the system to just tell him what was on the tablet.
He kept staring at the design, but it still didn’t make sense to him. And why would Wreman draw something like that?
A voice interrupted his thoughts.
“What kind of adventuring companion, are you, lad?” Justin looked up and saw Klothar leading the horses over to him.
“I—”
The ranger grinned and playfully punched Justin on the shoulder. “You were just going to leave me, weren’t you, you scoundrel?”
What a relief. The ranger was back.
“I was going to check the Life Tree,” Justin stammered. “That’s where I was headed now. Is that where you came from?”
“The spirits saw fit to raise me from the dead back in Holgate. I couldn’t travel the Dark Tree at night, so I set out early this morning. What do you have there?” He looked over at the stump.
“Have I got a story for you.” Justin started to fill him in on what had happened after the lich died.
“I have to stop you there, lad. That foul abomination did not perish. Not in any way. I just sent it back to its lair. Against its will, surely. But it’s not dead.”
“Whatever,” Justin said. “You chased it away, but this satchel was left behind. Wreman’s satchel. It had a bell in it, a diamond, and a ring—which is going to blow your mind. He also left behind this.” Justin showed Klothar the wax tablet.
Klothar’s expression darkened as he studied the tablet. Finally, he said, “This is some sort of demon. And it looks to be invading Lorque.”
“Lorque?”
“That’s the coastline.” He pointed to the swiggly line in the right corner of the tablet. “Lorque is down here.”
Okay now he was seeing it. The image was a map and the squiggly line was the coast. He had been looking at it wrong. But, still, what did this have to do with the merchant? Or the lich for that matter?
“Liches don’t command demons, do they?” Justin asked.
“Not that I have ever heard of.”
“I wonder what the connection is.”
Klothar shrugged. “It may not have anything to do with us.”
“Well, if we’re on this Iron Veil quest, it sure does.”
“What do you mean, lad?”
“You probably didn’t hear the lich because you were too busy kicking its ass, but it spoke to me. Something about joining it to find the Iron Veil.”
“You?”
“Yeah, don’t look so surprised. We sages are in high demand, apparently. Even with liches, I guess.”
Klothar said, “We need to consult with the oracle again. She can help us make sense of all this.”
“We can do that, but we need to pick up Pari first. She contacted me—”
“Your telepathic bond?”
“Yeah, whatever. The important thing is that she said she’ll be in Oakford Cross soon.”
“Very well. If we don’t tarry, we can make it there before noon. Let us make haste.”
“Hang on. I have one more thing to show you.” Justin removed the black ring from his belt pouch and held it up for Klothar to see.
“What is that?”
“Check this out!” Justin slipped the ring on his finger and his body faded into near nothingness. “I’m a ghost, yo!”
Klothar’s eyes widened. “A Ring of the Spectre.”
“When you say it like that, it doesn’t sound so good.”
“Was that item from the lich?”
“Um, yeah.”
Klothar shook his head. “That is a most dangerous artifact. Powerful, yet extremely dangerous.”
“Yeah, I get it. A cursed relic. I saw The Lord of the Rings. So what should I do with it? And don’t say toss it into the Cracks of Doom.”
Klothar said, “I know of no place with that name, and I cannot advise you what to do with the Ring of the Spectre. That may very well be another question for the oracle.”
Great. Big help.
Justin left it at that and they mounted up. Next stop, Oakford Cross.
Chapter Twenty
Eventually Pari had calmed herself enough to start walking again. The sky had clouded up, and it smelled like rain was going to hit any second.
Normally, she was fine with rain. No big deal. But the combination of this horrible news, plus the fact that she had spent a good part of yesterday wet and freezing made her dread even the lightest drizzle.
Pari had stepped up her pace to Oakford Cross and found a tavern—the Drunken Pony—where had she parked herself by the front window and ordered some soup. Then she had sent a message to Justin telling him where she’d be waiting.
Pari had been sitting here for the past few hours and had graduated from soup to beer. It seemed a more appropriate liquid to drown her sorrows in.
“Can I buy you a beer or something?”
She looked up to see a woman in her 40s with frizzy brown hair streaked with grey. She was tall and thin and had a kind face.
:::::. Helene Vorhaus. (Enchanter). Player, Level 5 .:::::
“Excuse me?”
“Or some tea,” Helene said. “Whatever you want.” She sat down without being asked.
Pari sat back in her chair and looked at the woman. What was her deal? Maybe this lady was just being friendly. But after the whole experience with that pink-haired bitch, she wasn’t about to let her guard down.
The woman shrugged at her. “I just saw you there with this expression on your face like your best friend just got run over by a bus.”
“There aren’t any buses here.”
“Okay, a dragon then.” Helene smiled.
“Matter of fact, you weren’t far off. I just learned that everyone in my fellowship wiped. Well, all but one.”
“Are you serious?”
“Totally. And they were all Januarys and Februarys so they’re not coming back.”
“I’m so sorry about that. What on earth happened?”
“I have no idea. They were exploring a dungeon in Hell’s Gate.”
“Not the Underfane, I hope?”
“No, it was some temple.” Pari drained the last of her beer. “The Temple of Xyurn. It must be a really tough run because our first party wiped too.”
“But you didn’t go?”
“No, we had two squads. I was in the other one. We were in the Vexham Maze for like a week.”
“I’ve been there. Not fun.”
“Yeah, that was nasty, but we all made it out alive,” Pari said. “By the way, I’m Pari. I’m blabbing at you and I haven’t even introduced myself.”
“No problem. I’m Helene. Pleased to meet you.”
“So, Helene, what’s your fellowship? And don’t say the Hawks because if you do, I’ll bash your head in with my beer mug. Fair warning.” Pari smiled.
Helene laughed. “No, I’m with the Godz of Greystrand. That’s with a ‘z’ just in case you weren’t sure.” She made a smirky little face.
“I would have bet money on it. What, is your leader like fifteen years old?”
“Sometimes I think she is. No, she’s probably your age. Etra Belaj. Ever hear of her?”
“No.”
“Well, she’s a January too. Kind of a big deal. She was the first to solo the Bloodmotes.”
“Why bother? A group of level threes can handle that, no problem.”
“She wanted to say she did it.”
Pari rolled her eyes. “One of those, huh?”
“Yeah, a little bit.” Helene stood up. “So how about that drink? Offer still stands.”
“I’m good. I’m kind of off people buying me drinks for a while.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, I had a bad experience at a recruiting party on Tuesday night,” Pari said.
“That’s why I never go to those things anymore. Plus I’m never invited.” She grinned. “Be right back.”
Pari sighed. This lady was nice, but Pari had definitely learned her lesson. No drinking with strangers. No way.
She peeked out the window which had a good view of one of the main streets in the village. It was now officially pouring out, and the street was gradually turning into a big long mud puddle. Where was Justin? It was getting late and, at this rate, there was no way they’d make it back to Rathenhall today.
Helene returned to the table with a goblet of cider—which actually looked good—and a big freshly baked pretzel, which looked even better and smelled pretty awesome too.
“Pari, help yourself,” Helene said.
“No, I’m fine. Thanks.”
Helene broke off a piece of pretzel. “So what fellowship are you in?”
“The Fellowship of Wood and Silence.”
Helene’s eyebrows raised a bit as she munched on her pretzel. “And you were making fun of our name? Do you guys have your own monastery too?”
“Yeah, we get that a lot. I’m not sure why Lazarus picked that name. I think he might have been into Eastern philosophy.”
“I know Lazarus,” Helene said. “Tall guy, pale, with the cheekbones?” She took a drink of her cider.
“Yeah, he’s pretty pale.”