by K. T. Hanna
And finally, Karn and Risk began to appear as well, along with all of the members in their arsenal. Masha hadn’t been able to get a good look at how many of them there were before the servers went down. It all happened so fast. Jirald’s wound had been a lucky miss, almost like Karn meant to make it painful, to make the kid suffer. While Jirald could be an insufferable jerk, deliberately hoping he’d bleed out while in agonizing pain wasn’t the way he should go. The game’s effects were a little too real for that.
Risk’s gaze didn’t leave Masha’s, and the cleric so badly wanted to know what it was the dreadknight was thinking, he momentarily wished he had Murmur’s powers. Karn stood, leaning their side against the rock wall of the tunnel nonchalantly, examining their finger nails, and exuding boredom.
“Well, well,” the cocky tank commented again, his eyes flashing red. “Guess you didn’t tuck tail and run, which is the rumor going around, by the way. That you can’t fight for yourselves. Fable’s bested you more than once. I figured it would be easy to come and take this from you if you were here. We’ve already conquered the other dungeon on this continent.”
“We’re not easy prey.” Jirald’s tone was oddly calm, even though Masha was quite certain there was a bit of fire underlying it. Sort of like a blue flame. Calm, but deadly.
Karn laughed. “You didn’t even sense me coming up behind you. How can you not be easy prey?”
While the question was rhetorical, anger flashed through Jirald’s eyes, and Masha knew what was coming before it hit. In less than a blink of an eye, Jirald disappeared and reappeared behind Karn, his dagger drawing over their throat in an instant. Thick red blood spouted from the other rogue’s neck, and if they showed surprise, Masha couldn’t see it because of the hood they wore. The mess splattered all over the rogue in a rain of red. They clutched at their throat and buckled to their knees, inadvertently dragging a second dagger Jirald had planted in their kidney into a wide, more fatal cut.
Despite the healing of from the ranks behind them, Karn fell to the side and twitched in death throes.
Risk gaped, looking from Karn to Jirald and back to Masha.
Jirald reached down once the spasms subsided and pulled his weapon from Karn’s back. He wiped it on his black sleeve, letting the blood soak into it as it took on a momentary red gleam. “Stupid. Rogues don’t talk shit. We kill it.”
And then he was gone for a split second again. It was enough time for Risk’s little raid group to collectively gasp and shuffle back a few steps. But Jirald only reappeared where he’d been standing before, gently tossing his dagger up and catching it.
A harsh scream tore through the opposing force as Karn, having rematerialized in her basic outfit, undergarments, returned from her respawn point, which must have been close by. She stepped to the forefront, long black hair hanging over pale elven features. She stood with her hands on her hips, as a couple of others inched forward with her to help her loot her body so it could decompose.
Jirald shrugged. “You need faster reflexes than that. Or at least a pretty good stun.”
Karn scowled in his direction as her concealing ninja gear reclothed her entire form. She was good, but Jirald was better, and Masha was proud of the kid for maintaining composure. Had this given him something else to focus on? Finally, her face was covered, and Masha had to suppress a laugh at the possibility that she could be poking out her tongue at them all under there and they wouldn’t have a clue. Although she seemed a bit too mature for something he wouldn’t put past Jirald.
Risk eyed them warily now, and Spiral backed up a few feet. Masha hadn’t realized quite how rare that ability of Jirald’s was. He’d assumed it was a normal rogue thing, but apparently he’d have to have a chat with him. Having something in their arsenal that could take others by surprise like that was going to be worth its weight in gold.
“What were you saying?” Masha kept his tone even, eyes still locked on Risk, who swallowed noticeably.
Risk did a double take and echoed Karn’s scowl from earlier. “You have a one trick pony. There’s no way that ability doesn’t have a massive cool down. You got a lucky and unexpected hit in.” He might have said the words, and backed it with tone, but the guild still remained quite a few paces back from where they’d previously stood.
Masha considered his words, and reflected on the man’s stance and smiled. But he knew it wasn’t a nice expression. Masha didn’t like it when others tried to intimidate them. When others tried to force their way past others with words and games rather than with actions.
“Come at us then.” Masha invited, motioning them forward with his hand.
Masha, what are you doing?
Ishwa’s words flowed over guild chat, and Masha could hear the tone the gnome spoke in. Irritated, but not by the cleric, and resigned completely to follow the raid leader’s lead.
You know exactly what I’m doing. They think we’re weak—why don’t we give them a demonstration.
Ishwa: Does it really matter what they think?
Masha barely stopped himself from laughing out loud in derision. Of course it matters. You want to rival Fable? Then we can’t be seen as inferior to anyone else, least of all some guild we’ve never heard of.
Ishwa didn’t respond further, and Masha took it as a good sign. Fable’s lead group played like they didn’t have day jobs, and if he’d guessed correctly, most of them were college age, and it was summer, so that was likely true. But that didn’t mean Masha was about to let anyone else get ahead of them. He did have some pride, after all. Besides, Risk’s smug assumption of their defeat irritated him no end.
While he knew they didn’t have the levels on Spiral that Fable had on Exodus, Masha liked to think they’d learned a bit after the encounter around eight levels ago. Fighting against players was always different than combating mobs. The thought process, the unpredictability.
And they did have their secret weapon, one that it appeared only an enchanter with stupidly fast reflexes could stop. Not for the first time in the last ten minutes did Masha thank whatever deity had stepped in and given Jirald a calm reflex. Whatever that ability was, as long as he kept using it in a clear, cool, and calculated way, Spiral stood no chance.
You have accepted Naishi’s quest. Please note that this is an outsider quest. In order to help the inhabitants of Somnia, you must believe they have been wronged. You are tasked with hunting down and finding the culprit, no matter what.
Murmur wasn’t sure she liked how that was worded. But she nodded at Naishi, and gave her a small smile before turning to join her friends in opening their chests. She saw Sin in her peripheral vision, giggling madly as she held up what looked more like a tiara than a headpiece, twirling happily around so that her robes spun in the force it created. The smile on her face lit up the room in a way nothing else in it did, reflecting the bright, blood-red ruby adorning the circlet in her eyes.
The smile on Murmur’s face grew, and she turned to watch the joy her friend experienced for a few moments. With all of her concerns, and all of her irritability, all of her outbursts, and all of her issues, Sin was always there. Like a guiding light in the night. Seeing her this happy was beautiful to behold. If only she could make her smile like that more often.
“Mur?” Havoc spoke softly at her elbow. “Not going to open yours?”
She sighed, the spell broken, and turned back to her own chest. Maybe she’d get something shiny she could give her best friend. “Sorry, just thinking about things, and quests.”
Havoc raised an eyebrow. “Sure you are,” he said and winked as he turned back to his own.
Despite not entirely understanding, Murmur had the sudden urge to blush. Damn that necro. He was always pulling shit like that. It probably annoyed her more than usual because at least, in a way, he was right.
She knelt down and flipped the top of her chest open, gasping as a bright silv
er robe shone at her. Inspecting it though, she frowned.
Robe of the Seer
Armor Class: 125
Weight: not applicable once enchanted
Level 35: This item will level with you as long as it is treated correctly in the crafting process.
Note: This robe provides the basis from which a Master Tailor can craft a magnificent piece of armor. Its statistics are customizable and class dependent. Extremely fragile. Do not allow anyone below Master level to attempt to craft this robe.
Murmur sighed. It was gorgeous, light and shifty, shiny and sort of sultry like Sin’s. But she couldn’t wear it yet. Beautiful though it might be, it was an empty piece with the potential to be powerful. Knowing her luck, it’d probably end up breaking when Neva tried to craft it despite the fact that Neva was a master.
She hefted it across her knee and rummaged through the rest of the chest.
“Don’t forget to send your crafting mats to the guild bank,” she called out automatically as she placed the materials from her own chest in there.
“Mur!” Sin and Rash practically screamed together and dashed over. At first the enchanter blinked, not sure why they were running toward her, and then she realized they’d seen the shiny. Gathering it to her chest, she clutched it defensively.
“Don’t touch it. It’s fragile.”
“Oh, my god! That is gorgeous, what are the stats?” Sin reached out with her hands, and Snowy placed himself in between the robe and the blood mage. His teeth weren’t barred yet, but Murmur wouldn’t put that past him.
“No stats yet. It’s like a template for Neva to craft from or something.” She realized she was no longer quite as disappointed by it, even if her guild mates seemed a little deflated by her response. They’d probably thought it was epic or legendary and had amazing stats on it. If it really leveled up though, it would be amazing. But how would it work with set bonuses?
She frowned, thinking it over too much, and she almost missed Sinister’s pouty face. “Fine. I’ll ask Neva to show it to me once she’s done with it. I went to limbo and back and all I got was this stupid crown.”
Murmur couldn’t help it. She laughed, and Sinister winked at her. “But it’s a pretty crown, Sin. What are the stats?”
“Oh, it’s fantastic. It has twelve to wisdom, and one hundred hit points. Since, you know, one of my heals requires that I sacrifice some of myself for you all. You do know that, right?” She waggled her eyebrows comically. On a dark elf, it kind of looked absurd.
“Yes, oh mighty blood mage. We know you give us your very lifeblood.” Beastial intoned in a dramatic way, flinging his arm out to the side. “What might we do to show our gratitude?”
Sinister grinned evilly, and let out a witch’s cackle. “Perfect my pretties, you’ve all fallen into my trap!” And she raised her hands with her fingers curled like claws and began to chase Beastial around the massive chamber.
Murmur sighed and looked back in her chest. She frowned. There wasn’t a getashi in sight, and she wasn’t too sure how she felt about it. It was nice not to have to touch the thing, but surely there should have been one. Then again, Akelu wasn’t the original target, and all the others had been turned evil against their will.
“Oh, no.” She whispered the words out loud, needing them to be audible so she could help make sense of the thoughts in her head.
It couldn’t be true, could it? Wouldn’t Riasli have had to kill all of the relevant bosses first in order to obtain more getashi for herself? The more she thought about it, the more worrisome it became. She picked up the midia crystal, reminding herself she still needed to talk to Telvar about those, and pushed herself up, when something small and round glinted from the bottom of the chest, in the back-left corner. Bending back down, she retrieved it and realized it was a beautiful crystal ring. All the colors in existence seemed to swirl around inside it nonstop, and upon inspection she couldn’t help the excitement that rose in her.
Incandescent Fathoms Ring
Weight: 0.0
Level 35
INT +5
MA+20
CHA+ 10
Effect: Mana Leech
This ring allows a mana leech effect to attach itself to every spell you cast, which remains active while the target takes damage. It will grow in % as the caster grows. Welcome to virtually endless mana.
Murmur knew she was grinning madly. It had been the only thing missing from the game really: items worth fighting for. While crafting materials did make one joyous and made for fantastic armor, the thrill of having a piece drop for you, knowing it’s perfect for you, tip and top, cream of the crop—well, it was something she’d missed in Somnia.
Now that she knew it could be a distinct possibility, the world seemed that much brighter for it.
“What you got there, Mur? Your face just lit up like a Christmas tree.” Devlish spoke to her, his voice quiet as his eyes followed Sinister, Beastial, Merlin, and Rash in their silly game of tag.
“A ring! For me! I just have to level so I can use it.” She couldn’t take her eyes off the way the colors swirled beneath it, like clouds being swept along by a breeze.
He sighed, and it caught her attention because he wasn’t usually one to do so. His brow was pinched in a concerned frown, worried perhaps. Lacerta facial structure didn’t allow itself to be read quite as easily as most other humanoid based species, but she’d grown used to some of the movements while talking to Telvar.
“What is it, Dev?” She’d lost the levity in her voice and turned to face him, the ring still clutched in her fist.
“I just—” He paused, his mouth twisting in thought. “I just feel like, even though this is all huge and scary at times, like it’s too easy. If we weren’t being extra careful because you dying in game is uncertain, this would be too easy. Getting through a dungeon without dying is one thing, but through dungeons we’ve never been before in our lives? That’s a bit too much. Figuring all this shit out is cool, but I can’t help feeling something isn’t right. And then you talked about us all being locked into the game with the NPCs, and my spidey sense is tingling.”
He looked down at her, his expression grave. “I don’t mean to alarm you more than you already are, more than we all already are. But how many wipes have we been through in other games to learn encounters? Never less than like, twenty, I’d say. Not when it’s a brand-new encounter no one else has even seen?”
Dev was earnest, like he’d given this ridiculous amounts of thought already, and to be honest, it was something she’d been thinking about occasionally. Truth be told, she’d ignored it as much as she could. Facing reality while in her own little world? It was far more appealing to just go with the flow in Somnia.
But Telvar said the AIs didn’t interfere like that. Murmur reached out with her mind, tentatively probing the surrounding world for answers, for hints or clues that might lead to any knowledge that could help her. Why couldn’t Dev have just kept the thoughts to himself? Unless everyone was having them. Considering Murmur had contemplated it on and off, it wasn’t unthinkable that everyone could be thinking the same.
Nothing but warmth reached back to her. It wasn’t hot in that sense, but more of a welcoming sensation that tingled through her nets. It offered a subtle sense of acceptance, of mutual need and want. Somnia was alive for her. Maybe it was alive for them. It had kept her and the others safe when they were cocooned in the limbo, along with all of the personalities who made the world so unique.
She cleared her throat to hide her wonder, the unease she felt at the realization, at the soft acceptance she now noticed flowing through the world. Murmur smiled at Devlish. “True. I wonder if it has a safety mechanism built into it. I hope that’s not it, because that’s sort of like cheating.”
Devlish eyed her for a long time, so long that she almost became uncomfortable.
“Su
re,” he said, and she knew instantly he didn’t believe a word she’d said. “That’s probably it.”
Murmur continued to smile, but it sat uneasily with her. Maybe the limbo had changed her abilities, enhanced them, because if she wasn’t mistaken, nothing about Somnia was virtual. Not to her. Not anymore.
Storm Entertainment
Somnia Online Division
Game Development Offices Artificial Intelligence Server Room
Day Fifteen
“Somnia is back up.” Laria mimicked the voice so accurately, it was all Shayla could do not to laugh. Though she knew she shouldn’t encourage Laria’s mocking of James’s voice when he told them news they’d known five minutes earlier, she didn’t actively discourage it either.
James began loitering around them about twenty minutes before the servers went back up. She hadn’t called him in in the wee hours of the morning, so why he showed up, she had no clue. Did he have some means of knowing when the servers went down?
Of course. She almost smacked her head forward onto the desk in front of her. He was probably a gamer too. While still mildly suspicious of her assistant, she could have kicked herself for not seeing the obvious too.
“Shayla!” Laria was glaring at her from across the office. With the door closed and a do not disturb on it, the two of them could dive in and see if they could solidify the coding surrounding the ruins of Cenedril, Curet, and Cognitia. They had to prevent something like that happening in the future.
“Sorry.” She grinned at her friend, and suddenly realized the continent was like the C continent. She’d not realized Cenedril was so full of the letter C. And then she realized her brain was overcompensating and tired. “Sorry, just a bit brain frazzled.”
“Understatement of the decade,” Laria muttered, a frown on her face as she studied something she saw. “Can you see this?”
“What?” But it only took a moment longer for it to register with Shayla as well, and her in-game character probably had its mouth hanging open. “But it’s exactly the same as it should be.”