The Sleeper Must Awaken

by Kip Terrington

  “When you gave me this job,” Lang began, “the system informed me I was responsible for the safety and security of this prisoner. She is secure, for now, by use of manacles around her neck, waist, ankles, and wrists. All of this may not be enough, though, if her fangs grow back. I don't have any experience when it comes to securing vampires. Are you certain we can't just kill her? Every vampire deserves to be destroyed.”

  “Well, hello, Lang. It's good to see you too,” Joe teased.

  “Do you realize how much work I have to do? Pleasantries are not a priority. You want to interrogate the prisoner? I think that's smart. Let's do that, shall we, Your Majesty?” Lang enunciated with a sarcastic crispness.

  “Grrrr,” Bridcha’s chest rumbled, bristling at the disrespectful tone.

  “Whoa, hold your horses, Snowman. Lang’s just grumpy and there's no law against that,” Joe cautioned, closing his now agitated twenty-sided eye.

  “No, there's not. However, Lang, you're not a slave. You don't have to keep this job if you don't want it. You don't have to stay part of this kingdom either. The sheriff needs to be someone who models respect toward both the king and queen,” Zoya corrected.

  “Zoya, there's no need to go that far,” Joe rebuked.

  “No, I apologize, Your Majesty. Queen Zoya is correct. If I don't show respect to the office you hold, I could inadvertently initiate the fall of a kingdom that’s barely started. Would you like to begin your interrogation of the prisoner, Your Majesty?” Lang asked with the proper deference.

  Joe swallowed his discomfort and nodded.

  Lang leaned in on the circular locking mechanism and rotated it toward the open position. The interlocking iron bars fully disengaged, and she pulled the door open with Bridcha’s help.

  As they walked in, Joe saw two guards, each with their claws extended, watching the vampire. Joe shook his head in silent frustration when he realized that one of the guards was San, the recently resurrected yeti who had been killed by this very vampire.

  “Guards, go ahead and take off early. We’ll be here long enough to wait for your replacement,” Joe said.

  The vampire’s skin was green and oozing, producing a zombie-like appearance. Carefully, Joe removed the steel gag that had been preventing the vampire from talking or biting.

  “Your kingdom has a fool for a monarch,” 342 hissed. Joe threw his hand up and Bridcha stopped his forward momentum.

  “She wants you to kill her, Bridcha. Control your anger. 342, you are right that I made a mistake, however, one error does not a fool make. I am willing to acknowledge when I put a foot wrong,” Joe remarked.

  “You don't even know what mistake you’ve made. You're just bluffing, hoping I will reveal it,” 342 mocked.

  “I assume you're not illiterate, and from what I've read, vampires can identify people by the scent of their blood even if it hasn't yet been spilled. So, you, unfortunately, have had one of the game mechanics confirmed for you,” Joe challenged.

  “I must admit, when that yeti, whom I KNOW I killed, came in the room to guard me, my heart almost began to beat. Although it was initially shocking, it eventually led to some comforting realizations,” 342 chuckled.

  “Hoping you will escape through death? I'm not going to let that happen. I will force feed you, you'll stay alive. Well, …you know what I mean,” Joe hesitated, acknowledging the vampire was not technically alive.

  “At least I won't be hungry. And, you made one error—eventually you'll make another. I can afford to wait centuries,” 342 said stoically, unable to hide her boredom.

  “You've created kind of a problem for me. I'd rather not keep you or have you anywhere near my people because you literally live on the suffering and pain of others. Unfortunately, if I kill you, you’ll be reborn and be free to once again torment what you consider food,” Joe exasperated.

  “Cry me a river. Seriously, I would really enjoy drinking your tears. Why are you here? I'm not going to give you any useful information. Just gag me again and I will wait for my opportunity to partake of the nutritious food bags walking around this five-sided monstrosity,” 342 crooned. Joe ignored the provocation and continued.

  “Some of my citizens are your former slaves. While I was in the process of undoing the damage done by your kind, they shared a vision with me. Through their own eyes, I saw how slaves are treated and, in that moment, your society was condemned. You, I can't kill, but one doesn’t have to be dead to be buried,” Joe pointed out and the vampire began to grin.

  “I understand, a king’s burden is heavy,” 342 said in an almost conciliatory tone.

  “You're not quite hearing what I'm saying. You are going to be put in a grave, but I have devised a simple system where you will continually receive small amounts of blood. So, once again, …you're not going to escape through death,” Joe stated with finality.

  The vampire’s chin raised and her grin twisted into a snarl. Her manacles clanked loudly as she struggled to lunge toward Joe, but she was too weak and the bindings were too strong.

  Joe reached in his Holdall and pulled out a clean ivory vampire tooth.

  342 went still and focused on the tooth. Her eyes dilated wide.

  “If you had had this, I bet you could have broken free from those manacles. Maybe not? I don't really know how strong you get with only one tooth. As I said before, you're a bit of a problem for me. I'm going to bury you. That’s already decided. I will keep my people safe, but I also need information from you. So, you have a few decisions to make. Option one: give me all the information I ask for and I will put this tooth back in your mouth, then bury you. Option two: provide me with false information -or stay silent- and I will withhold this dirty little canine and bury you. This tooth is my only bargaining chip, and information is yours. Will we trade?” Joe asked as he slowly rolled the fang between two fingers.

  “You're lying. Y-you’d never give me the t-tooth,” 342 stuttered like a withdrawing crackhead.

  “If I was your mistress, you'd be right, but I’m the king of an honorable nation, and once word gets around that the oath of a king is worthless, it's only a matter of time before that kingdom falls,” Joe said and Zoya flew over to Joe’s shoulder and spoke.

  “He will keep his oath. After you give us all the information Joe desires, you will get back one of your fangs. I swear this on my magic, I swear this on my longevity, and I swear this on my authority,” Zoya pronounced. A message popped up in Joe’s HUD.

  Take Heed! You are witness to a Binder’s Oath. Such an oath is not given lightly. If Zoya breaks this oath, she will face consequences to her magic, her longevity, and her authority.

  Joe grimaced, having not foreseen Zoya doing such a thing. But, it was done and he would keep his oath.

  “I fear my mistress may wish to destroy me when she finds out I betrayed her, however, I'm a player now, and my bind point is outside of her control. So, for the first time, I'm free. I will give you the information because with that one tooth, eventually I will claw my way free. You must really need the information. I don't envy you. Warring against my mistress won’t be fun and you will lose. She'll probably dig me up and kill me. I’ll lose a few levels, like the yeti I ate earlier, but then it's the road for me. A wandering vampire who can take a few risks, because I will have more than one life to lose. What do you want to know?” 342 asked.

  “Why do you have a number for a name?” Zoya asked.

  “Good question, but you're not going to like the answer. I am number 342 out of over a thousand vampires who are more or less equal in power to me. We are given the designation of Fingers. We are used as scouts, patrol guards, and general security. We also maintain most of the food supply for all of our kind. I know your next question, so I'll just go ahead and answer it.

  “The human vampire I was serving, who told you to call him Devigo, was in the next rung of power higher than I, and there are around a hundred like him, some stronger and some weaker. They are called the Fists. They’re used
as diplomats and lieutenant enforcers.

  “The next rung contains only nine individuals, all of whom are at least two orders of magnitude more powerful than the human vampire you killed. They are designated as the Arms. All of them have multiple seeds of magic with varying levels of competence and there's not one whose under seven feet tall. Though magic makes them more versatile, what makes a vampire truly dangerous is the physical power contained in their hardened, extremely fast bodies.

  “Even if we increase in mass, our speed does not decrease. I curse the fact that I was raised to a vampire from a halfling form. Before the introduction of this new UI, my small stature meant I would never rise above the station I was given,” 342 said.

  “After that, the mistress rules everyone, I assume?” Joe asked.

  “She wishes. The mistress is part of a triumvirate who regulate and control every vampire for a thousand miles. Those three, who dominate the rest of us, each have their own small place of power,” 342 outlined.

  “Are they given the designation of Head?” Zoya queried.

  “No, of course not. They’re the ones who give designations. They don’t receive them. They sit in their place of power torturing slaves, enjoying the life of a vampire. Each one is a master in at least one magic and they use their small place of power to great effect. They make a variety of items that are exclusive to my kind and highly valued by the rest of the world. If this wasn't so, I'm sure some kingdom or another would have exterminated us by now. Because of hypocrites like you, though, we are judged harshly for our choice of lifestyle. We’re forced to eke out our existence under fortified caverns with small places of power. Each member in the triumvirate, of course, would love a Grand Place of Power, like the one in this castle, but none of them would be so foolish as to attempt to take it themselves. If Devigo would have been able to acquire it for her, oooh he would have been rewarded beyond even my wildest imagination.

  “The mistress is quite large herself, though she's not quite as big as the smelly simpleton chief before me,” 342 provoked, but Bridcha simply bared his teeth as if smiling wide. “It was worth a shot, the other two in the triumvirate were raised from giant stock but they are no less deadly. Also, if I have to tell you everything I know, I’m guessing you also want to know about the whispers of power among the vampires?”

  “Everything. That includes whispers,” Zoya said.

  “There are rumors that each member in the triumvirate control an immortal wraith—not that it’s as big of a deal now that so many players can come back from being completely destroyed,” 342 said.

  “So, when I go into the caves under the Wild Mountains to kill the mistress, I'm going to have to fight a wraith and well over a thousand vampires of varying degrees of power?” Joe asked. 342’s brows rose and she tilted her head, staring at Joe in puzzlement.

  “You're truly going to go and face her under the mountain? Why would you hasten your demise? Are you really such a moron?” 342 mocked.

  “Answer the question,” Joe demanded.

  “Fine. No. At any given time there's only 300 vampires in the Wild Mountain location. The other two triumvirates’ territories are much farther afield. If you are crazy enough to go into her den, then you're going to have to fight almost 300 Fingers, at least a score of Fists, most likely only two Arms, and the mistress herself,” 342 said.

  “Only so few? Why leave the place of power so undefended?” Joe asked.

  “You are a moron. Even if it was just the mistress alone, those caverns would be well defended. You cannot defeat her, but I will answer your question. There's always at least one Arm who is out gathering the most prized food. Trolls and the most powerful yetis cannot be easily subdued and brought home. And no matter how gentle we are to our food, they have a shelf life. Our constant gathering requires diligence and numbers,” 342 said with pride in her tone.

  “How many have been enslaved under the Wild Mountains?” Lang broke in.

  “How could I possibly know that number? Do you mean slaves currently in residence or do you mean how many have been enslaved throughout history?” 342 retorted, and Lang vibrated with tightly controlled fury.

  “Give me an estimate of how many there are now,” Joe interjected before the spiteful vampire could get in another dig at Lang.

  “Somewhere north of 10,000, some vampires keep more food than others. Right now, I only own ten in the communal farm. Devigo, who had been my direct superior, had at least 50 in the farm. Many vampires like to keep their personal property close, but those like myself and my former commander, are often called to leave the safety of the caverns. It doesn't really matter, though, you can't take them. Even if you kill their owners, their slave marks will just be transferred to the closest noble house,” 342 said.

  “I read a little bit about the noble houses in a book and I'm guessing that those in the Arm all have a house?” Joe asked.

  “Yes, as well as a few Fists, who have smaller houses. It's really just a way to organize property and lines of binding. Again, I cannot overemphasize this enough, you shouldn't go in there. They're not going to give up the little blood banks. Clearly, you are powerful, but you're not powerful enough. Give me both my fangs back and I will go to the mistress and convince her you are all-powerful and that she should submit. Of course, she won't, she'll definitely kill me. However, that will free me from her control and convince her that I must have been telling the truth, otherwise I wouldn't have risked my own existence,” 342 rationalized.

  “No. When did you become a player?” Joe asked.

  “Are you sure? I would allow your little dark binder to ensure I followed through with my oath,” 342 countered.

  “I already told you no, and you are dangerously close to breaking your end of our current deal. If you continue to evade my questions, I will consider it a lie, in which case you broke your end of the bargain and your one fang will stay in my possession,” Joe warned.

  “I was just trying to offer you a better deal, I'm not evading. I will answer your questions. Like many other groups I, my commander, and my fellow Fingers were given a task. We were to kill every twentieth goblin we came across and maim every fifth. During this enjoyable duty, a large group of goblins began to flee toward the surface. We pursued because it's much more fun when we get to chase. We caught them just as they had reached the bitter cold of the outside. My colleagues began killing and maiming well over our quota and I froze, having acquired my HUD for the first time. I'm sure that my commander would have noticed my strange behavior if not for his own bloodlust. After he was sated, we let some of the goblins go and my commander felt your new place of power. You know the rest,” 342 concluded.

  “So, you became a player when you ascended above the subterranean caverns?” Zoya clarified.

  “Yes, with that first breath of mountain air, I got more than just the stink of fleeing goblins,” 342 sneered.

  “Why do so many of the slaves we freed have blocked seeds of magic in them?” Zoya asked.

  “Do they? You must have freed a group from a specialty breeder. The appetites of vampires vary greatly and magic in the blood adds a spice some prefer. I don’t pretend to have such a refined palate, so I never wanted to pay the premium. The breeder makes you pay through the teeth, both for the hassle of having the seeds blocked and for the initial expense of kidnapping a noble. Some might even require a Grand Binding which can only be produced by one of the triumvirate, so that is one expensive drink. Ugh… so many questions. I have held up my part of the bargain, give me my fang and bury me already. This whole ordeal has grown tedious. It makes one almost yearn for the solitude only a grave can provide,” 342 said, allowing the boredom to seep into every word.

  “The deal was that you would give me all the information I asked for, and I am not yet satisfied,” Joe informed the vampire.

  “You can't always get what you want,” 342 said then pursed her lips, clearly confused as to why she had responded with that particular phrase. Joe smiled, re
cognizing another one of the small details the UI was influencing.

  “But if you try sometimes, you just might find, you get what you need,” Joe completed the song lyrics.

  Congratulations!

  You've completed the hidden mini-quest, “A rolling stone does not fall far from the tree.”

  XP received:

  Base- 50, Voice of Monty Ring bonus- 50

  Total XP- 100

  “Remember our deal. Did you just receive experience for a mini-quest? If so, how much and did you get any other rewards?” Joe asked. The vampire’s brows drew down in a frown.

  “Yes, I received 10 XP for my participation, no other rewards,” 342 confirmed and then closed her mouth firmly, unwilling to give more than she had to.

  A stone angel glided into the room. It held a large stack of paper. Resting atop the stack, sat a pencil and a wooden vial with a stopper corked inside. Zoya flew over to the automaton and took the wooden vial, then flew in front of 342.

  “This wooden vial contains blood. You're going to digest it like a pill. Once inside of you, I'm sure your body will dissolve the wood to gain access to what's inside,” Zoya declared.

  “It doesn't smell right. Whatever kind of blood it is, I've never had it before. Just let me have some of the yeti blood. I know that that has the nutrients I need in it,” 342 jabbed.

  “I wasn't giving you options. You're going to take the bitter pill one way or another,” Zoya threatened and 342 glanced down at Joe's waist where his MIL Bar was attached to a carabiner. The vampire opened its mouth wide and tilted its chin up. Zoya held her nose as she drew near to the putrescent mouth of the vampire. With a mechanical efficiency, she dropped the vial in the mouth of the vampire. The vampire swallowed it down easily.

  “What type of person's blood was in that vial?” 342 asked, trepidation appearing in her voice for the first time.