Spy: Reborn

by Angie A Huxley

  “A good night’s work,” Henk said with approval. “But we still need to get out of here.”

  “We’re going out the front?” Kip questioned. “Lots of other orcs heading that way; we might run into trouble.”

  Those monsters still in the compound were paying them no attention, still focused on putting out the fires and recovering their injured comrades. Still, the Crew ran the risk of calling too much attention to themselves, bring dozens of now-sober bandits upon their heads. “I don’t want to risk all the loot and experience I’ve gathered, respawn back in Witchstorm Manor.”

  “I know,” said Henk testily as he surveyed their options.

  “Look over there,” said Argo. “That might be a way out, guys.”

  He was pointing back to the burning villa, or more precisely the section of the wall that caught fire. Several of the logs had collapsed, creating an opening. True, it was on fire, but it was still an opening. “Kip,” Henk shot quickly after examining the scene. “Could you use a water spell to douse the flames so we can get through?”

  “Sure thing,” Kip said with a grin.

  They rushed over to the burning section of wall, and the Mage uttered an incantation to form Waterballs. The spell created three fist-sized orbs of water around his head, and he sent them shooting forward toward the wall. The three splashes didn’t do much, but six consecutive castings of Waterballs produced enough water to at least open a way forward for the Crew.

  Argo and his party quickly climbed through the smoldering logs and headed up to the cover of the nearby rocks. A path wound down to a small plateau where they assembled, standing around to watch the fire destroy the compound. The orcs and trolls apparently couldn’t put out the fire fast enough, which is why the conflagration burned magnificently against the night sky.

  Argo felt a sense of exhilaration he’d never experienced after a quest. For the first time since playing the game, he felt like he had achieved something truly important.

  He felt a soft hand slip into his, and turned to see Aaheli smiling at him. “You okay? You have a dreamy look on your face.”

  “I’m good,” he said, genuinely meaning it. As far back as he could remember, it had been a while he had felt that good about life.

  He heard Kip uttering an incantation, and a glowing yellow arrow appeared suspended in midair in front of him. “Okay, I got the tracker spell up and running, guys. This’ll take us straight to where we left the gyrocopter.”

  The arrow pointed west and they began to set off in the direction of where the gyrocopter was parked, concealed by foliage. As they went, Argo glanced back at the conflagration and smiled. He’d been instrumental to completing their mission. He just couldn’t get to grips with that, and it looked like being a Spy was going to be a whole lot more fun than playing as a Bard.

  * * *

  Pain lanced through Urzug’s side where the troll had hacked at him with its machete. He’d been trying to get the brute to engage the adventuring band that had attacked the compound, but the stupid oaf was so mad with fear he’d turned on Urzug instead. Though he had been wounded, Urzug had snapped the troll’s neck for his trouble and carried on trying to organize the counterattack. It was at that point that the main house blew up and Urzug knew it was over.

  The bandits who hadn’t been killed in the raging fires or the massive explosion now fled into the mountains. Without him to keep them in line, they would dissipate and go their separate ways. As he stood in the courtyard, watching everything he had built go up in smoke, he was severely tempted to stay and let the fire claim him.

  Srev flew down and plucked at his arm, urging him to get away. Now bleeding and battered, his lungs clogged with smoke that made him cough violently, Urzug staggered to a halt on a shelf of rock to survey the devastation. He had not met any of the others during his escape. The only one of the gang who had not deserted him was Srev. The huge buzzard landed on a nearby rock and let out a mournful screech.

  If Urzug had possessed any gentler feelings, he could have wept as he watched the raging inferno. As it was, he was filled only with hate and anger, and those emotions were all directed at the scrawny little orc he’d seen sneaking out of the storehouse. That dirty little traitor was the cause of all this. Urzug had thought the only real threat to him was Gutsboy. All this time, he had been planning to get rid of him only to allow an unknown enemy to bring about the orc leader’s downfall.

  Urzug stared deep into the fire on the horizon and made a vow, there and then, to find that orc and make him pay for what he had done. No matter how long it took, he would hunt the traitorous orc and his band down, and claim his revenge upon their broken bodies.

  The orc heard a sound behind him, and he turned round, raising the long sword he clutched in one hand. “Who’s there?” he called out.

  A tall, sleek figure dressed in red stepped from the shadows and sketched a flamboyant bow to the orc. “Good evening,” the stranger said in a deep velvety voice. “That’s quite a blaze down there, isn’t it? I should have brought along some marshmallows to toast.”

  Urzug let out a guttural roar and rushed at the stranger. With just a flick of his gloved hand, a magical energy web appeared in front of him, entangling the orc and his bird in its strands. Urzug struggled wildly to get free but he was held fast. “How dare you!” he raged. “Who are you?”

  “There is no need to get excited, Urzug. I am a friend,” the stranger replied.

  Urzug stopped floundering and scowled at the silver masked man. “A friend?”

  “Why yes,” Duke Red said in his purring voice. “I’m going to help you avenge yourself on those responsible for this wanton destruction, but only if you do a little something for me.”

  Chapter Eight: A Strange Opportunity

  Sitting at his usual table in the Rizzaldo Coffee Shop, Argo swiped through the Help Wanted Ads on his phone with a growing sense of despondency. There was nothing really suitable here, which came as no big surprise. Most of the ads looking for menial labor wanted robots only as they were faster and more efficient. Besides, that type of work did not suit him at all… or more correctly put, he did not suit that type of work. His clumsiness and social anxiety made him more of a hindrance than a help to employers, so it limited the opportunities available to him.

  Despite that, he needed to be earning money somehow. Though he still had some savings left, and Aaheli assured him that she could cover the rent for both of them, this frustrating state of affairs could not continue indefinitely. As his mother had promised, his allowance had been paid in at the end of the month when she visited him, but it had promptly stopped the month after. He’d received no further contact from his family and he had not gotten in touch with them either. They had made their decision, and he had made his.

  That still left him with a large financial hole to fill every month. Living in Orchid City was an expensive business, even more so where he was located; it was going to be a real struggle to keep his head above water, even with Aaheli’s support.

  There was the option to apply for Universal Support, the basic salary that all people were entitled to so that they stayed above the poverty line, but he was too proud to consider making a claim. That really was for people with no other means of supporting themselves, and it didn’t feel right for someone of his affluent background to receive that income—especially when it was his own stubbornness that had put him in this situation in the first place. Besides, he wanted to earn his money and engage in some kind of activity to do so. The only problem was he wanted to earn money through acting alone, and that was not going to happen anytime soon.

  Mentally exhausted from churning the situation over and over in his mind, he swirled the dregs of his latte in the coffee cup and made ready to leave. He was doing the matinee at the Nightingale in about an hour or so. They were doing Midsummer Night’s Dream and he was playing Tom Snout the tinker. It was a pretty small part and more suited to his range, which pleased To
mi who was having a high time lording it up as Oberon. All the attention was on him, while Argo stayed in the background.

  As Argo was about to get to his feet, a morose-looking man slouched into the Coffee Shop and went over to the counter. Argo paused to look at the guy, certain that he had seen him somewhere before. As the newcomer ordered his drink and turned back round, Argo suddenly remembered where. It was Ed, the production assistant of Magarito Pasivah.

  Ed walked towards a table and made eye-contact with Argo. A clamp of cold dread clutched Argo’s chest and he instinctively dipped his eyes. It made him so uncomfortable when he met someone who was vaguely familiar but with whom he was not on close speaking terms, as he never knew what to say. Most of the time, when that situation arose, he pretended not to have seen the person, like he was doing now, which usually caused offense as it was quite obvious he had seen them. This time, though, was different.

  “Hey,” said Ed as he seated himself at the table directly opposite to where Argo was sitting. “It’s Argo, isn’t it? You were the kid who auditioned for the antelope, right?”

  “Um yeah,” Argo said in a self-conscious voice.

  Ed nodded. “How you doing?”

  “Okay,” Argo replied, and then trailed off. After an awkward pause, he said, “How are you?”

  “Well, this morning I was pretty suicidal, but from about half an hour ago I’m the happiest man alive,” Ed said cryptically.

  Argo stared at him, not sure what to make of this statement. Ed certainly didn’t look like the happiest man alive despite his assurances otherwise. With no other ideas of what else to say, Argo fell quiet. He wanted to leave now, but that would look as if he was going because of Ed, so he stayed in his seat and stared into his coffee cup, searching for some other topic of discussion.

  “How’s Magarito?” was all he could come up with.

  Ed was now tucking into the cinnamon and tomato swirl he’d ordered. He looked up and barked a laugh. “When I left her, she was screeching like a banshee and threatening to rip out my intestines using only a can opener, so she’s just her usual self.”

  Argo looked horrified and Ed shot him a playful wink. “It doesn’t bother me, though. I won’t be going back to her studio anyway.”

  “You won’t?” Argo asked in a puzzled voice.

  “No, buddy, I quit,” Ed replied. “I’ve finally done it. I’m free of her forever.”

  “You quit?” Argo replied. “Why?”

  “Does that really need an answer?” Ed said dryly. “You only spent the morning dressed up as an antelope and being catapulted all over the place. I have to put up with that craziness every day. Well, no more. Today was the last straw, my friend. You know what she wanted me to do? I’ll tell you what she wanted me to do. She wanted me to get hold of five hundred live octopuses by twelve o’clock and spray paint them bright gold for the big underwater finale of her play! Can you believe that? I said I couldn’t do that, even if I knew where to get hold of any octopuses. We don’t even need any octopuses. She only came up with the idea of an underwater finale this morning. It was just crazy. She went mad at me. You know what she did?”

  “No,” said Argo.

  “She threw a live lobster at me! She had one in her handbag for some reason. Well, that was the last straw. I’ve had enough and I told her that. I quit, I said, I can’t take any more of this.”

  “Wow,” said Argo. He had never heard of anyone standing up to Magarito. Everyone just tended to go along with it, and hoped to get out alive. “You actually threatened to quit.”

  “I didn’t just threaten, I did quit,” Ed said proudly. “To be truthful, buddy, I’ve been thinking about it for quite a while. I’ve been working with her for eight years now and I realized I’ve been wasting my life being her personal doormat. I’m sick of the whole business in fact. My cousin wants me to go join him down south and help him run his robot repair shop. I was reluctant to make the break, but this morning convinced me that I need to get out of here and start again.”

  Argo nodded. Getting away and starting again sure did sound enticing. “I hope it all works out for you.”

  “So do I, but anything’s better than running around after Magarito all this time. I should have done this a long time ago.”

  As Argo wished him well and said his goodbyes, a sudden thought struck him. With Ed moving on, Magarito would be looking for another assistant. Are you crazy? he immediately said to himself. You don’t want to work for her!

  In normal circumstances, that would be true. But he needed some form of income, and it was a chance to stay working in the industry. Although he certainly could not cope with her for eight years the way Ed had, this would only be temporary, until a better opportunity came along. Again, he dismissed the idea as foolish and suicidal. Besides, Magarito wouldn’t hire him as an actor, so why should she want him as her assistant?

  Yet, as he made his way to the theater, the idea became more and more persistent. Would it really be so awful? The answer was a resounding yes, but that weirdly made it more attractive to him. Ever since his first Spy mission into the outlaw compound, he had felt a surge of confidence that had not dissipated for weeks now. It helped that the subsequent quest, escorting the merchant through the mountains, had been a success as well. They had encountered a few orcs and a mountain giant, but they got him through alive and on the first try. Though Argo had not acted in a prominent role in that quest and mostly provided support with his Bard class, the mission he had completed in the outlaw compound had ensured that they had not been overwhelmed by powerful enemies.

  As an extra bonus, the local lord had awarded the Manticore Crew 100 experience points each, along with five hundred sovereigns for clearing out the bandits for good. This extra good fortune had boosted his standing among the adventuring company and made him hungry for more successes both in Drake Realm and the real world. He was also eager to advance as a Spy, possessing more passion for the character than he ever had playing as a Bard. After launching the attack on the bandit compound, he had gained enough experience to level up. Now that he had slept, his character advanced to level 2—allowing him to distribute new stat and skill points as he saw fit.

  Name

  Argo

  Race

  Human

  Class

  Bard / Spy

  Level

  02/20

  Health Points

  25/25

  Stamina Points

  20/20

  Mana Points

  25/25

  Experience

  282/500

  Strength

  8

  Endurance

  9

  Dexterity

  13

  Spirit

  8

  Willpower

  8

  Cunning

  14

  Stat points available: 2

  Active Abilities

  Medley

  All party members recover 1 HP every 5 seconds

  Morph

  Assume the outward appearance of a target PC, NPC, or monster (granted by Deceiver’s Reflector)

  *Empty Slot

  —Select new Skill—

  *Empty Slot

  —Select new Skill—

  Passive Abilities

  Swords 23/100

  Serviceable aptitude with bladed weapons

  Can wield light blades

  Strings 62/100

  Modest aptitude with stringed instruments

  Can play modestly complex songs

  Can access spell-songs on enchanted lutes

  Sneak 06/100

  Reduced profile and footstep noise while sneaking

  Subterfuge 09/100

  Slightly impro
ved chance of misrepresenting the truth

  Argo chuckled at the last bit. True, spies weren’t supposed to be the most truthful and upstanding types of people. It was a lot like acting, to be honest: make yourself into someone you’re not, and be so convincing at it that other people won’t care even if they know it’s all a lie.

  What really surprised him, however, was the fact that he gained the ability to add two new skills. He remembered when he leveled for the first time, back when he was a pure Bard. He only gained one new skill slot, and he chose Ditty to help buff his party.

  Two new skill slots… that would open so much for him. He examined his HUD once more, reviewing all the abilities he could choose at his level: