At the top level of four I didn’t require a node to jump out as long as I wasn’t inside of a population center. I still needed to teleport to either a branded place or a travel node. However, it could be a travel node I’d never visited before. I suspected level four was required to visit some of the hidden areas of this world.
Level one cost one skill point, level two cost two, level three cost five and required player level 15, and level four cost a whopping ten skill points and required me to be level 25. That last level also required a bionic upgrade.
The moment I’d turned level 13, both Clara and I gave ourselves the first level of Teleport. If we happened to run across an active node, we’d be able to zap ourselves to Medina.
We approached the silver buildings, coming to a stop outside the apothecary. It appeared these buildings were built out of old, discarded steam boilers. A jagged tear bulged out of the side of the potion shop, and the metallic top curled back where it was pressed against the ceiling of the cavern. I reached out and rapped the side of the structure. It clanged like a steel barrel. The metallic wall was warmer than I’d expected.
A stooped, round doorway was cut into the side. The sign above read “Potions for His Glory.”
Clara hesitated at the entrance. “Maybe I should go in alone,” she said. “I’ll probably get a better price.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but then I changed my mind. She was right. We wouldn’t be able to do it next door at the flesh modder, but my presence only seemed to make things worse. “Okay,” I said. “Remember, that Stolas guy sells them for 250,000 teeth. So don’t settle for anything ridiculously low.”
She nodded and pushed her way into the shop.
Banksy and I waited outside along with Madame Throb, who glared at us. Groups of robed groundlings walked past on the street, giving us a wide berth. Some muttered under their breath, others made a flicking motion with their right hands which I took for an obscene gesture.
“So,” I asked Throb. “Have you had much trouble from the demons?”
“What is that supposed to mean?” she asked. “Is that a threat?”
“No, no,” I said hurriedly, holding up my hands. “It’s just that nearby town of the Lycan people was leveled. And Medina is under siege. And Charnel is under constant attack.”
“Well,” she began, “Unlike those poorly-defended, above-ground death traps, you can see…”
The door to the apothecary burst open. “And stay out!” a voice cried from within.
Clara clamored out, her cheeks a bright red. Banksy rushed up to her side, looking at the door and growling.
“So, how’d the negotiations go?” I asked.
Clara stood straighter. She held one of the Colo Colo Menses potions in her hand, and she shoved it into her pack.
“So, remember when I told you that I thought Colo Colo might be the guardian of the shade gremlins? Turns out they hate her even more.”
I groaned. Son of a bitch. If we didn’t have anything to sell, what could we do? The only other items either of us had of value were our weapons and maybe my leather jerkin, and selling any of that stuff was a bad idea. We were going to have to leave and find another town. The next closest settlement that wasn’t destroyed was a place called Ilth, home to the goat-headed Viceroys.
“Well,” I said. “I guess we should at least try next door and see how much a brand costs. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”
The sign above this shop read: “Glory to Moritasgus Upgrades and Flesh Mods. A Division of Chicken and Waffles and Upgrades, LLC.”
Underneath in hand-painted letters was “No food at this location.” And underneath that was the crossed out “No Leechers Allowed.” In fresher paint was one more line: “No Shade Gremlins Allowed.”
The place wasn’t open, but Madame Throb insisted they’d be here at any moment.
“Hey,” I said to the mech. “So why do you guys hate shade gremlins?” I pointed to the sign. “And why don’t you hate leechers anymore?”
Madame Throb grunted. “A leecher recently helped us build our temple. As a result, we no longer hate their kind. A shade gremlin visiting Kinnegad made the pronouncement that Colo Colo could defeat Moritasgus in battle. So we now hate them.”
I exchanged a look with Clara. “You’re painting with a bit of a broad brush, don’t you think? Just because one of a certain race does something doesn’t mean that all of them are bad.”
Madame Throb just looked at me like I was something stuck on her foot.
A thought occurred to me. I turned to Clara. “Hey, who played the leecher character anyway? Do you remember?”
A leecher was a tall, robed humanoid creature with the oblong head of an octopus and five or six tentacle-like appendages on its face. They used technology and resurrection magics, if I recalled correctly.
Clara nodded. “Yeah. It was Frank.”
“Huh. What about a shade gremlin?”
“I don’t remember,” she said. “I think it was a consumable. I know the Canadian played one last season before he switched to a lycan.”
“You said Frank didn’t like playing with non-humans, but you also said he was one of the ones who helped complete the game last season. Do you think he had anything to do with this?”
She shrugged. “Yes, he wanted his consumables to be human. But he did play the game itself, completing quests, leveling up and all that. He collected artifacts. I don’t see how it matters. Frank is gone.”
A male and female groundling pair walked up to the entrance as we waited. Both were dressed in silver robes and wore odd caps made of brass. The hats looked like shower caps, but with the sharp V of a widow’s peak over the forehead. It gave the two groundlings the appearance of alien little people from some 1950’s b-movie.
The man looked at us and smiled broadly. The woman glared at me with open contempt.
Over the man’s head was:
Stonegate – Advanced Bionics Mechanic (Level 31).
“Customers?” the man named Stonegate asked as we met at the doorway. He stood a couple hands shorter than Clara, barely coming up to my waist. He produced a big key. “Come in! Come in!” The door creaked open, a warm, inviting light coming from the interior. He bound inside.
The woman’s title was:
Jazz – Flesh Modder (Level 37).
She stopped in the doorway, blocking it. “You got money?” Jazz asked, looking me up and down. “You look like someone who doesn’t have much money.”
“I have money,” I said. It wasn’t quite a lie.
“What about brand irons? You got iron? I ain’t got a Medina brand if that’s what you’re looking for. I only have a Kinnegad one, and I sure as hell ain’t sticking your kind with one of those.”
“We do,” I said, patting my pack.
She glared at me for a few more moments then turned and went inside.
“I will wait here for you,” Throb said.
“I’ll do the negotiating,” Clara whispered as we followed Jazz.
“Yeah, because that went so well in the last place.”
“That guy would’ve melted your face off if you’d tried.”
I grunted. She was probably right.
The moment we stepped inside, the musty stench of Kinnegad disappeared, replaced with the equally-nauseating stench of rotting bandages and spilled iodine.
The cramped, round building consisted of a white dentist’s chair on one side of the room and a wood-burning stove on the other. A simple loft hung about halfway up. I caught sight of a pair of eyes watching us from above. A child groundling, about five or six. I couldn’t tell their gender. The kid didn’t have a name tag.
I waved. The child’s eyes grew wide, and they disappeared into the loft.
Stonegate came to stand by the dentist's chair, and the woman named Jazz stood by the hearth.
“What sort of upgrades are you looking for today?” Stonegate asked. He leaned up against a small table next to the dentist's chair. Several tools
clattered as he nudged the table. The tools weren’t very clean. In fact, some looked rusty. Others were covered with blood. I swallowed.
Stonegate continued. “I see all three of you are level 13. While there isn’t anything available for your hook slayer, both of you have several skill points available. Fifteen and five.” He looked at me. “Can I interest you in a grappling hook?” He waved his left hand, pointed it at the ceiling and made a gun shooting noise. “They’re very cool.”
At Clara he said, “For a fae as beautiful as you, I can install an equally-beautiful pair of wings. I can have you soaring the clouds in no time. Or would you like carnivore teeth?” He gnashed his dull gray teeth at her. “It’s one of the deadliest melee weapons for your kind. Expensive, but it’s very worth it.” He patted his chair. “It’d only take a few minutes.”
“How much to upgrade my mapping skill?” I asked.
Clara poked me. “I’m negotiating, remember?”
“Let’s see here,” Stonegate said. “Oh yes. You have a mapping skill of three. To upgrade to four… yes, that would be useful, wouldn’t it. It adds additional points of interest and threat assessments. It also adds interior maps of all towns. You’d always be able to find your way back here. But, it requires some brain surgery. Nothing major. It would be two skill points and 1,000 teeth.”
My heart sank. “How much for the grappling hook?”
“That one is easy.” Stonegate picked a bloody, rusty saw up from the table and made a cutting motion in the air. He had a wild look in his eye, making his enthusiasm suddenly seem sinister. “It’s basically a snip and tuck. Plug and play. It’s five skill points and 500 teeth. I’d recommend you bring it up to level 3 though. That’d be an additional six points and another 3,000 teeth. It strengthens the hook, allows attachments, and makes it a weapon. At the first level it’s nothing more than a glorified rope.”
“We’re actually here for brands,” Clara said, turning to the scowling woman. “We hold a brand for the town of Charnel, and all three of us would like one. On our necks.”
Jazz grunted. “The hook slayer is free. It would be his first brand. Both of you already have neck brands. You can only have two neck ones. It’s recommended you use at least one for your associated kaiju. But, it’s your body. I can put it on your chest. It’s possible to lose them in that area, but very unlikely. It’ll be your second brand for both of you. It’ll be 100 for the fae, 300 for the worm surgeon.”
“What?” I asked. “Why am I three times as much?”
“Because you’re taller.” She crossed her arms. “Also because you’re a demon-worshiping son of a zombie whore who I wouldn’t piss on to save even if you and your entire filthy race of heathens were on fire.”
I opened my mouth to protest, and she held up a finger. “And that 300 price is not negotiable, so don’t even try. You’ve already brought your wretched stench into this house, and it will take at least 300 teeth to have the clerics cleanse it.”
We were 75 teeth short.
“Can I negotiate?” Clara asked hesitantly. “We’re a bit scant, and all three of us really need that brand. And the sooner you do it, the sooner we’ll leave town.”
Jazz grunted. “I don’t see what you can offer me.”
“I’ll tell you what,” Clara said. “You brand him for 300 teeth, Banksy for nothing, and me for 25. That’ll clean out our money, leaving us destitute. But,” she added. “You and your husband can beat the crap out of Duke here, and he won’t fight back.”
“Uh…” I began.
A wide grin spread across Jazz’s face. She looked back and forth between us. She started to laugh, a low, deep chuckle. “Now this lady knows how to negotiate.” She looked me up and down. “Can we use sticks?”
“Wait a second…” I said.
Now Stonegate was also laughing. “I get the top half, you get the bottom half. It’ll be like when we were kids, back before they let the ghouls back into the city.”
Jazz roared with laughter.
Clara was looking up at the loft where the child groundling had reappeared. She sighed, then she gave me an odd, apologetic look.
“Actually,” Clara said. “I’ll tell you what. Is your child yet an adept?”
They both instantly stopped laughing.
“No,” Stonegate said, suddenly serious. “The invasion came, and we have been trapped here. They had some demons in cages, but they have long since been amplified.” He looked at me then turned to his wife. “Would he work for this?”
“It’s okay,” Jazz said. She was looking me up and down. She stepped forward and grabbed my hand, examining my fingers. “He’s no demon, but he is a ghoul. It still meets the requirement.”
Clara nodded. “You will give us all the teeth you have. Throw in the wings, grappling hook up to level three, and mapping upgrade for Duke, and instead of you beating him, I’ll allow your child to sacrament before your temple. When is the next Hidora?”
“It is in two days,” Jazz said, whispering. She looked up at the loft. “You would do this? You would submit him to an amplification?”
“Yes,” Clara said.
A single tear traced a path down Jazz’s face.
What the hell?
“We can do the upgrades, but you still have to spend the skill points,” Stonegate said. “It would cost 13 of his 15 points. For you the wings will take all five of your points. We have about 5,000 teeth saved up, but they are all yours.” He paused, looking at his wife. “It’s a miracle.”
“Wait,” I said, looking between the three. “What is happening? What does sacrament me mean? And what the hell is ‘Hidora?’’ Clara refused to look me in the eye. How did she know about any of this?
“I’ll explain later,” she said. “Okay. You have to do the brands first, then the surgeries.”
“We shake on this,” Stonegate said, stepping forward to me, holding out his hand.
Hesitantly, I took his hand.
New Debt Incurred. The notification disappeared into a folder.
I looked at Clara who had a terrifying look of apology on her face.
Chapter 21
“What did I just agree to?” I hissed at Clara as Jazz prepared the brand. She said it’d be about fifteen minutes before her hearth was hot enough.
We sat outside the tin can building. Madame Throb parked out of earshot, sitting in the main street, keeping an eye on us. She talked quietly with passing groundlings. It appeared she was telling everyone I’d agreed to this sacrament thing. Their looks of disgust turned to adoration. A few even waved at me before they continued on their way.
Clara sighed. “Okay, so do you remember when I was telling you about Paulo? He was a Mexican guy. Lived in Tucson, Arizona in the real world. Had a thing for teenage boys?”
“Yeah,” I said. “The cannibal. You said he was like Frank. He quit because he wanted everyone to be human. His consumable was his real-life next-door neighbor.”
“That’s the guy,” she said. “He played a groundling. I was there when he first signed up for the game. Anatoly brought me with him for his orientation. This was early last season.”
“How long have you been in here anyway?”
She’d mentioned earlier that this current season had been running for a year and a half, but she hadn’t said how long she’d been here before that.
She ignored the question. “Whenever someone joins the game for the first time, they have to go through a long training sequence that teaches them how to play. It’s different for each race. For the fae, I woke up in the bed, and I had my little sister show me around, teaching me how to buy and sell at merchants, pick plants, use my menus, cast spells, and so forth. Eventually we went into the woods, and I performed a ritual where I received my first familiar. Anatoly pulled me out early the second time, though. So I never got one this season.” She sighed. “I named him Maxie, my familiar. I miss him.”
I nodded. “It was the same with me. I was with my cousin, but Anatoly grab
bed me almost right away.”
“I don’t know what happens with you worm surgeon guys. Probably something disgusting. There’s lots of that in this game. It’s why nobody played it. Some of this stuff is really beyond the pale. Anyway, Anatoly always let the new clients work all the way through the introduction part of the game, so they knew how to play. The groundlings have an underground neighborhood in Medina. It’s pretty similar to this place, though there isn’t that bizarre badger head in the middle. So Anatoly brought me down there to meet Paulo. We sat back and watched him go through the whole tutorial. It ends with him performing the sacrament on Hidora. Hidora is a day of the week. It’s their Sunday. He had to perform it on some humanoid demon they had tied up.”
We paused as an elderly groundling rushed up and grabbed my hand. “Thank you, thank you,” he said. He patted Banksy on the head then rushed away.
“So what is the sacrament?” I asked warily, watching the old groundling disappear into a building across the street.
“I’m getting there. Like I said earlier, groundlings worship their kaiju like a god. They believe that when they die, they get into a special heaven where there’s only their kind and badgers I guess, I don’t know. It’s weird. But anyway, performing the sacrament is like being baptized. You can only get into heaven once the sacrament is performed. It’s very, very important to them. You can’t do the ceremony until you’re old enough. So most groundling families worry that something bad will happen to their kids before they can do it. That’s why my offer worked. The game put the kid in there on purpose, as a way to get you to be able to buy stuff you can’t afford.”
Kaiju- Battlefield Surgeon Page 17