by Randy Nargi
“There’s a first for everything, good lady,” Klothar said.
“Let’s start off at Taraminter’s,” Pari said.
She steered them down a side hall decorated with statues of various bards into a low-ceilinged room filled with several dozen people sitting around six or seven big round tables.
The second they stepped through the threshold, all the sound from the big hall outside magically ceased, and all you could hear was Taraminter himself and a few murmurs of appreciation from the audience.
“Wow. That’s a first.” Justin stood in the doorway and took one step out into the hall and then one step back into the herald’s room.
“Freaky!”
“Indeed,” Klothar said.
“Yeah, it’s kind of cool. That’s how they can have so many bards and whatnot in one place. Let’s grab some seats.”
Taraminter was in the middle of a story about a group of adventurers who had discovered a new type of ore in the mountains east of Marby. A mining party had been dispatched to evaluate the vein and bring a good quantity of the ore back to Marby to be smelted.
“Let’s give it an hour here and see if he mentions anything interesting,” Pari said.
Justin flagged down a barmaid. “Is it too early for a beer?”
Chapter Twenty-Six
“Come in.”
Dr. Margolin pushed open the door to General Groves’ office. The smug bastard was staring at his Nimbus and continued to do so as he motioned Margolin towards a seat.
Margolin sat down and crossed his legs, waiting for Groves to finish what he was immersed in. He opened his own portfolio and made a show of flipping pages on his tablet.
Still not looking him in the eye, Groves said, “Oh, could you close the door, Doctor.”
A petty move.
Margolin got up, walked back to the door and pushed it closed—a little more forcefully than necessary. Then he returned to his seat.
Groves continued to read whatever was on his screen—or pretend to—for another minute, before finally looking up at Margolin.
“I’m going to ask you once and only once, Doctor,” he blurted out. “Did you try to cover up evidence that Project: Reverie’s controller has intentionally exceeded the scope of its programming?”
“Yes, General, I did.”
Groves actually looked surprised.
“Well, at least you’re honest about it.”
“That makes one of us.”
Groves didn’t say anything, but Margolin leaned forward.
“I know about the men you inserted into the game—your incursion team. I also know about the comms shunt.”
“That’s a classified mission, Doctor. And I don’t plan on discussing it with you.”
Margolin said, “I’m not asking you to. I’m just noting that we both have our secrets.”
“The difference is that our folks are trying to keep the world safe and you are recklessly endangering it.”
“You don’t really believe that, do you, General?” He set his portfolio on the edge of the desk, pointing at Groves.
“Actually, I do. You may view this whole thing as no more than a glorified computer game, but I see it for what it really is: an AI autonomously making decisions about human lives.”
“God, you’re dramatic, Groves. The controller picked some alternate players for the game, because it wanted to improve the quality of the beta test. No one was hurt. There are no nefarious schemes. No robots taking over the world.”
Groves leaned back and crossed his arms. “That’s right, because I’m pulling the plug on Reverie. Loneskum-Alexander is done. I was actually planning on letting you run with this until next week, but the more I thought about it, the less I wanted to play along with your lies, Doctor.”
Margolin closed his eyes. What a stupid, small-minded man he was dealing with. He took a deep breath.
“General, we both know how important Project: Reverie is—to America—and to the human race.”
“Don’t try to lecture me, son. I’ve been working on the Event Horizon for over twenty years. I know what’s at stake.”
“Well then you also know that the timeline has been moved up again. According to the latest projections, we need to have mass adoption of OmniWorld within three years. And that’s just not going to happen if one asshole General decides to derail the whole thing because he’s some kind of control freak.”
“You think I’m a control freak, Margolin?”
“To be honest, Groves, I’m not sure what you are. Except done.”
As he spoke, Margolin leaned forward and pressed the clip on what appeared to be a pen stuck in his portfolio. Groves didn’t notice a thing. He was too busy barking out a laugh. Although, to be fair there wasn’t much to notice when it came to nanoparticles.
“Well, I have to admit you have balls on you, Doc. My report will be filed tomorrow morning. You can fight it all you want, but the OpenAI and FLI monitors will back me up on this. It’s nuke and pave time. Then we’ll start over and do it the right way.”
“We’ll see, General. We’ll see.”
As Margolin stood and picked up his portfolio, he noticed that his hands were trembling. Groves probably saw it as well, and he likely thought it was because he had gotten under Margolin’s skin.
But that wasn’t it at all.
Margolin was trembling because he had just killed a man. Even though his victim wouldn’t know it for another thirty minutes.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“And that’s how the brave troupe escaped from the Screaming Labyrinth. But I fear that this account would have ended quite differently if it wasn’t for the quick thinking of a certain young lad named Digger Macnee who the villagers of Marby certainly would not underestimate a second time.”
The room erupted in applause as the bard Ruelle bowed. Audience members stood and stretched and tossed coins into a box by the small stage. Some drifted over to speak to the bard.
Justin drained the last of his ale. It was a fun story, but it had nothing to do with what they were doing. Still, he pulled two crowns from his money bag.
The bard was in her thirties and attractive in kind of a boho way, with dreads and feathers and ribbons in her hair. After the stage started to clear Justin went up to Ruelle and made it obvious that he was dropping a pair of crowns into her donation box.
“That was a really good story,” he said. “I’m Justin, by the way. Sage.”
“Thank you, Justin the Sage,” she smiled at him. “I’ll return here at dusk for the telling of The Creature of the Boswa Moor. Have you heard that tale? It’s a real favorite with the locals.”
“No, this is actually my first time listening to a bard. Well, my second. My friends and I heard a guy named Taraminter this morning.”
“Taraminter?” she scoffed. “He’s middling, at best. And horribly overrated, I think. People say that my stories are much more vivid. Don’t you agree?”
“Oh yeah. He was kind of boring. I like how you did the voices of all the dwarves. That was cool.”
“Thank you. And where are your friends now, Justin?”
“We split up for the afternoon so we could listen to more bards. We’re actually looking for some information about something. Maybe I could ask you about it…?”
Ruelle raised one eyebrow. “Maybe you could buy me a flagon of ale first and we’ll see how it goes.”
Okay, this was a little weird. Now an NPC was hitting on him. Oh well. Better go with it.
“Sure. I mean, I was thinking the same thing.”
“Good. But not here. I prefer not to drink where I work.”
“Fine. Where do you want to go?”
“The Tawny Rabbit. It’s not far.”
As he followed the bard out into the main hall of the Yak Shack, Justin wondered how he’d reconnect with Klothar and Pari. They were all supposed to meet out on the steps when they were done. Oh well, maybe he could message Pari. Hopefully this wouldn’t take long.
The Tawny Rabbit was a lively place a block away from the Yak Shack, down a side street. It had big wooden beams, and the tables were made of barrels with a round wooden top. Towards the back were a line of booths and that’s where Ruelle steered them. Everyone seemed to know the bard, and they greeted her or playfully slapped her bottom as she walked by.
The bard walked right up to a booth with three people already in it, but they quickly vacated the seats, smiling and half bowing at Ruelle.
“You’re kind of a big deal, I guess.”
“I do enjoy a certain amount of notoriety around Rathenhall. Now, tell me, have you ever had cazelm?”
“I haven’t even heard of it.”
“Then you, sir, are in for a treat.”
She signaled for the barkeep across the room and then made a cutting gesture across her throat. The barkeep nodded and smiled.
“What is it, poison?”
Ruelle laughed. It was a deep, throaty laugh. “No, but if you have too much of it, you’ll suffer the same effects. It’s a liquor made from fermented gavea.”
From his knowledge skill, Justin was aware that the gavea was a fern-like plant that grew wild around in the southern reaches of Greystrand. He did not, however, know you could make booze out of it.
The barkeep brought them a decanter filled with an amber liquid and two glasses.
“That’ll be two shields.”
Whoa. This stuff wasn’t cheap. Hopefully Ruelle would have something useful to tell him.
She could tell he was surprised by the cost, but she rested her hand on his thigh and whispered, “Don’t worry, good sir. I’m worth it.”
Justin paid the barkeep and then toasted Ruelle.
“To the best bard in Rathenhall.”
“Excuse me? The best bard in all of Greystrand, I dare say.”
Justin took a sip of the cazelm. It kind of tasted like tequila, but smoother. Very rich and fragrant.
“This is good stuff.”
“I’m glad you approve, Justin the Sage.”
They chit-chatted for a while and Justin was pleasantly-surprised how well he was hitting it off with a medieval NPC lady who was a decade older than him, but Ruelle was smart and witty and definitely in a flirting mood. It was only the setting sun outside the window of the Tawny Rabbit that reminded Justin that he was here for a reason.
“So can we talk about some quest stuff now?” he asked.
“I suppose so.” Ruelle drained her glass. The two of them had killed at least half of the decanter in the past half hour and Justin was definitely feeling it.
“So have you ever heard of the Tower of Leminkäinon? It’s also called Leminkäinon’s Finger.”
Ruelle thought for a while, then shook her head.
“What about the Isle of Saari? Does that ring a bell?”
“I have never heard of such a place. I’m sorry, Justin.”
“It’s somewhere east of Lorque. Guarded by a cormorian. No?”
The bard shrugged. “None of that is familiar to me. And I know over a thousand stories.”
“But you don’t know what a cormorian is? Giant creature? Four arms?”
Ruelle still didn’t have any idea of what he was talking about. This whole thing was turning out to be a colossal waste of time. But there was one last thing he could ask about.
Justin looked around to see if anyone was eavesdropping. When he was satisfied that no one was, he leaned in close to Ruelle.
“What about the Iron Veil?”
“No—” Then Ruelle twitched oddly. She blinked at him as if she had never seen him before, then a faint flicker of recognition played across her face.
“The Iron Veil…”
“Yes,” Justin said, coaxing her on.
“A legend… very old… very dangerous.”
It was almost like Ruelle was in a trance.
“What can you tell me about it?”
“There is a forge…and a door…and a key.”
“Where?”
And then Ruelle twitched again. “Never heard of it,” she said matter-of-factly.
“What?”
“The Iron Veil. Isn’t that what you were asking me about?”
And then an alert popped up:
:::::. New message from Pari. Listen? .:::::
“Yes.”
Justin heard Pari’s voice say “Where are you? Klothar and I are both done. Meet us on the steps. Klothar thinks he’s figured out the tower puzzle.”
He stood up. “I’m sorry. I need to go.”
“What? We were just getting to know each other…”
“I know. And you’re really cool and all, but I need to get back to my friends. Enjoy the cazelm!”
He pushed his way through the crowd in the common room and made a beeline back to the Yack Shack.
Pari and Klothar were waiting on the steps, glaring at him.
“Where were you?” Pari asked.
“I was plying a bard with alcohol to learn some stuff about the Iron Veil. Where were you?”
“No time for bickering, lad,” Klothar said. “Hand me your notebook!”
Justin gave the ranger his notebook and Klothar thumbed through it until he found the page with the tower clues.
“Just as I thought,” Klothar said. “Snake nymphs wood not eggs swan eats. What do all of those words have in common?”
“I don’t know. And we already decided that they were in the wrong order.”
“Yes. Indeed. It makes more sense if the words read: Snake eats swan eggs not wood nymphs.”
“Slightly, but it still sounds like nonsense to me.”
“That’s because it is nonsense, lad.”
“You’re killing me here, Klothar. Just tell me what you know.”
“Mark the first letter of each word. What do you take from that?”
“S-E-S-E-N-W-N. It still doesn’t make any sense. Those letters don’t spell anything. There’s only two vowels and—”
“They’re abbreviations,” Pari interjected.
Justin thought about the letters again. S-E-S-E-N-W-N. He wasn’t seeing it.
“I don’t—”
“South east south east north west north!” Klothar shouted.
“They’re directions?”
“Exactly. The way to navigate through the maze.”
It kind of made sense, but…
“What maze?” Justin asked. “We haven’t encountered any maze.”
“Sure we have,” Pari said. “It was engraved into the door.” She pointed to the page in the notebook where Justin had transcribed a grid of letters.
Klothar leaned in over his shoulder.
“Hand it here, lad.”
He took the book and began tracing an invisible line across the grid. He started in the upper left.
“F-south to I. East to N. South to D.” The ranger smiled. “F-I-N-D. Find. Then east again to A. North to U. West to N. And north to E. A-U-N-E. Find Aune.”
“Find Aune? What does that even mean?”
“Are you drunk or something?” Pari asked. “It means we have to find Aune. That’s the next part of the quest. Hello!”
“But what’s an Aune?”
“Or who? Sounds like a name to me,” Pari said.
“It is a place,” Justin said.
“What? How do you know?”
Justin quickly recounted his meeting with Ruelle. “When I asked her about the Iron Veil, she got all weird, like she was in a brief trance or something.”
“Did she twitch?” Pari asked.
“Yeah.”
“I’ve seen that too. I wonder if it’s some kind of override on the NPCs’ normal programming.”
“Anyway, she said that there was an old legend about the Iron Veil with a forge and a door and a key.”
“Okay, what else?”
“That was it. She snapped out of it and then didn’t have any memory of what she had said.”
“Very queer, indeed,” Klothar said.
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“Hey Justin! Bro!” a voice called.
Justin turned to see Lukas walking down the stairs towards them. Then Lukas noticed Klothar and raised his hands. “Hey, man. I don’t want any trouble.”
Klothar’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t say anything.
“Lukas, how’s it going?” Justin asked.
This was awkward.
“Pretty good. What are you doing in Rathe?”
“Just questing and hanging. Do you know Pari?”
Pari was glaring daggers at Lukas. She probably knew that he was with the Golden Hawks.
Turning to Pari, Lukas looked a little sheepish. “Hey, listen, for what it’s worth, I thought that prank was totally off-base and not cool at all.”
“It was more than a prank. I could have been killed. The ship was attacked by Storm Reavers.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah.”
“Whoa. I had no idea. I need to tell Chad. He crossed the line, and he owes you an apology.”
“Wait, Chad’s alive?” Justin asked. The last he remembered, Klothar had taken Chad out at the training grounds.
“Giordana rezzed him in time.”
“I don’t get it,” Justin said.
“There’s window of time after you die that you can be resurrected by a healer,” Pari explained.
“Even after level 5?”
“Yeah. Too bad in Chad’s case.” She was still glaring.
“Guys, I’m sorry to interrupt,” Lukas said. “I just wanted to say hello.” He nodded at Pari, “No hard feelings?”
“I wouldn’t go that far. Zoë better steer clear of me if she knows what’s good for her. Chad too.”
“I’ll pass that on. Hey, you’re probably not interested, but a bunch of us are going to run the Thunder tomorrow morning. The new folks are going to be there: Seth and Lindsey. Rick, Leelee, and Eric too. You’re welcome to join us.”
“What’s ‘run the Thunder’ mean?” Justin asked.
“Oh, sorry. Thunderfang Rift is a big dungeon for levels one through three. It takes the whole day, but it’s got amazing XP and loot.”
“Thanks, but we’re good,” Pari cut in sharply. “We need to get going. C’mon, guys.”