by Prax Venter
Alt stared at him for a moment then gathered his thoughts before closing his halfmoon eyes to focus on the impending performance.
“I’ve been sittn’ on the cloud top
All the live long day.
I’ve been sittn’ on the cloud top
Just to pass the time away- hey!
Can’t you hear the sky a’ whistlin’?
Rise up so early in the morn
Can’t you see the leaves a’ rustlin’?
Dawn winds blow your horn”
“Hey, that was good! And singing your strange-o world version with a sun body kinda works… thematically or something. Thanks for that.”
“Um- of course, Jack. We should probably get moving.”
“You know once Lex finds out you can sing, our queen is going to force you to perform your entire database- right?”
Before Alt could answer, Jack slapped the Exit Orb and popped back out in Angelshade surrounded by the other Heroes of that Town. More than a few of them looked at Jack sideways and some whispered to each other, but most minded their business. He smiled at them all as he turned to move straight toward the Proxy Grave Hall and his gaze caught a Townsfolk woman rush in to embrace a Hero covered in formidable scale plate. At first, he thought they were father and daughter, but the man with gray streaks in his hair removed his dragon-molded facemask and they shared a kiss that spoke of a more passionate relationship. Jack quickly shifted his eyes forward, his full focus turning toward his first goal of fulfilling Lex’s wish.
The quiet building was now totally empty and since Jack had 14 hours to kill before he could go into the Tower again, he slowed to take in what exactly this place was. Packed so close they were almost touching, Jack put his hands behind his back and began Inspecting the Death Proxy figurines.
Baga the Level 4 Fighter with a tiny leather vest, Vakter the Townsfolk Innkeeper with a 22% proficiency, a level 74 Hero called Eldrik with the Class: Gravity Well, Magrid the Baker whose Proxy wore a tiny felt pie on her head like a hat. There were hundreds just on the shelf he was looking at and it would probably take several days to read all of them.
Alt fed Jack some information as he continued. “The building is 90 feet long and each side holds 25 shelves from floor to ceiling. Given the placement, there should be a little under 13,500 Proxies in this space alone. However, there should also be orders of magnitude more from-”
“Did you have any further questions?”
Jack was starting to think this Practitioner was half spirit himself with how quiet he could be.
“I was just learning about the people of the past, but actually, I believed I was alone in here. Can I ask if your job gives you special teleport abilities?”
Mohden shook his head. “I was simply down in the caverns when I heard someone come in.” He pointed to an open hallway near the back of the hall.
“Caverns?” Jack said, his eyebrows shooting up.
“Yes, they are quite humbling to behold. I can show you if you’d like?”
Jack nodded. “Please.”
He followed the portly man in the black tabard past the shelves filled with intricate figures, past the ladder to reach the higher places, and into that hallway in the back.
To the left was a small workbench covered with colored cloth and tools where it appeared the practitioner performed the bulk of his craft. To the right, was a set of spiral stone stairs.
More system torches sat in clean iron sconces and Jack made a mental note to get a look under the wooden decking of this mangrove city. These system stairs went straight into the swamp, but there were no leaks or any type of water damage anywhere.
After about four rotations, the small tube they circled opened to an inconceivably vast series of underground pools. There were still a few more stairs before the bottom and Jack’s sturdy feet stumbled several times as he took in the scene stretching out before him. Virtually every surface in this limestone chamber was covered by endless death proxies. To Jack’s expert eye, the place looked like a tidal cave, but he’d never seen any tidal activity in this virtual world.
The porous curved walls were coated in runnels of trickling water and thick white roots from the mangroves helping to support the Town hung down from the natural ceiling into the pools.
They stopped at the bottom of the stairs and Jack noticed a small area with a changing screen and a bed that had to be Mohden’s private quarters.
“All of this is under Angelshade?” Jack asked, his eyes panning over the countless dead.
“Indeed,” his gentle guide whispered. “I try to rotate those that have remained down under the Hall proper the longest, but as you can see, there are too many to display on the shelves above.”
“I can see,” Jack agreed, slowly turning to take it all in.
Alt provided some telepathic perspective. “200,000 years of indestructible memorials for just one Town…”
“May I ask the true intent behind distant royalty coming alone to our secluded community?” the portly practitioner asked, and Jack turned away from the weight of death.
“My wife and I came upon Angelshade by happy accident as we fled an evil that hides within Ivyset Crag. The only reason we came here was to rest, but since I’ve walked through your pumpkin-lined gate, I’ve been getting a good vibe from the people that live here. I stayed to learn more. And this,” Jack paused to sweep his hand over the multitude of colorful Death Proxies. “This monument to sacrifice is something every living person within Mother Sana should witness at least once.”
Mohden blinked at Jack. “Yes. Mother Sana… I think you have an appropriate sense of things, King Jack. But what of your Kingdom? Do your subjects not feel your absence?”
“In a way, but I trust the people who call me King to handle their own lives. I’m probably not like any ruler you may have heard about in stories.”
The other man nodded. “I can believe that.”
Jack summoned Lex’s forgotten fabric doll to his hand and the black-tabarded man locked his eyes on the Tower-spawned craft project.
“I did come back here specifically to ask you for a favor. I know this isn’t technically a figure made by you or an object that even depicts a person who has passed on from the world, but to Lex and I, she represents a powerful loss. Is there anything I can do or offer in trade for the honor of a place somewhere among the others?”
The Proxy Hall Practitioner took Molly the Moppet from Jack with reverence, his eyes dancing over the simple embellishments. The doll was three times bigger than any of the miniature people currently watching over them, and Jack had no idea how this NPC would react to this ‘outside of the box’ request.
“You’re giving this Artifact to me? To display?”
“I’m asking you if you’ll allow it anywhere. Even down here would be great.”
The other man gently lifted a single strand of Molly’s lilac yarn hair and then ran his fingers along the wooden carved shoes affixed to the bottom of her fabric legs. His thumb brushed over one of the black button eyes as he started to nod.
“How would you and the Queen of Blackmoor feel if I placed this on my workbench for inspiration? It’s a beautiful piece and wouldn’t mind having it around. I’ve never seen an artifact from the Tower.”
Jack gave him a genuine smile. “Mohden, I think that is a perfect idea and Lex would be pleased. Molly the Moppet is yours now. May she watch over you as you help others watch over us.”
“You are indeed a strange King, but I get a good feeling from you too, Jack. Is there anything else you need?”
“Was going to have a stroll through Angelshade before having a late supper at the inn, any suggestions?”
“Mmm, based on your equipment, you might want to start with Minks at the Leather Works. Although, I caution you many Townsfolk may not be in a sociable mood until the loss of Jamya passes. It was her time, yet she was a treasured member of this community for both her care and contribution. Whoever Mayor Roth assigns to take hi
s wife’s position has a large gap to span.”
“I understand. Thank you, Practitioner Mohden. I am certain we will cross paths again.”
Jack left the Death Proxy Hall and felt the cool evening breeze try to get to his skin, so he flipped on his cloak as he moved back toward the gate. Now that he knew they were there, he noticed that some of the larger stone buildings had lower levels that continued under the shadow of the suspended walkways.
The first place he tried was a building called Leather Works. The inside of the open brick warehouse was split into sides with a tannery on the left and then a whole shop on the right with finished product on the shelves. The place held the scent of old paper between books and the unbaked interior of his grandfather’s ancient pick-up truck. The place was empty, but he’d experienced an item shop or two since he landed in this virtual world and began perusing the offered items.
Jack mostly found boots, capes, and hats- all decorative items made from Baezlik hide, but then he found designer weapon belts, loops and scabbards…
Offered by Whitehide Stitchery
Masterwork Sword Harness - [Decorative Belt | Value: 345]
| +20 Max HP |
| +15 Def |
| 5% Threat generation bonus |
| Stock: 1/1 |
| Next Replenish: Last in Stock |
‘Accept’ ‘Decline’
“That’s what I’m talking about!” Jack said, easily snatching up the souvenir for his wife. It wasn’t super great on stats, but any stats on a decorative item was something he’d never seen before.
“Too bad I can’t buy any upgrades for my own starter-trash sword belt,” he said down to his glitched main-hand weapon with an absurd amount of stats.
Alt sent back the equivalent of rolling his eyes.
Jack continued his wandering thoughts out loud as he scoured every table, hook, and shelf for a rare find. “Now that I’ve seen multiple Towns, it’s finally hitting me how vastly different they are from each other. The weather, the resources, the trade specialties… This whole place is just begging to be reconnected.”
The front door flew open with a gust of wind; behind it stood one of the three old men he’d seen before. The newcomer panned his sky-blue eyes around the room, and Jack noticed he wasn’t the Mayor by several pieces of leather armor. This one was a Hero- and not a Bygone Hero.
He closed the door behind him with a grunt and then spun to face Jack.
“I don’t like you here. They say your strange, chained dove of a Queen never came out of the Tower and here you are ravin’ to yerself like a sunsick screaming mire mare. I got a saying that’s served me well over the years, ‘Insane Irrelevant Kings with Impossible Gear is Bad Luck’. Now, what kind of mess are you going to be, anyways?”
The white-mustached old man crossed tan arms in front of his chest.
Jack almost said something he’d regret, instead he confidently stepped out from between the shelves.
“I understand what it’s like protecting your home. So, I’ll lead with my word that I’m someone who is on your side here. No mess, I promise. Also, I appreciate your concern, but the Queen of Blackmoor is one tough lady. She’s just fine and off on her own secret mission.”
“Mmm,” the other man grunted, still blocking the door and studying Jack with intensity. His penetrating stare reminded him of a much grumpier version of Haylee, and Jack stopped outside of Inspection range.
“Your combat role is ranged damage dealer, correct?” he asked, trying a new approach.
“What else would a one-Path Archer be?”
“I haven’t Inspected you yet and wanted to talk like men instead of peeking into each other’s business.” That got his attention, so Jack continued. “I didn’t see you around at Exit and you’re still wearing Leg-Slot armor from the Tower, so you must have chosen not to retire as a Bygone Hero. I have to respect that dedication to fighting for your people. Angelshade appears to have been cut off from the rest of the world for a long time, so you must’ve personally stopped countless Demon attacks while the others Climb to feed the Town.”
“Not so much recently,” the other man said, uncrossing his arms. “And I don’t do it alone.”
Jack nodded. “Exactly. Not alone. My purpose here is to learn your ways and make new friends. We wanted to know how alone we were in this world. But rest assured, I do have a kingdom to get back to. I’ll be departing tomorrow.”
“Hmph. You chose the wrong day in the wrong dying world to try to make new friends. Anyways, be about your business, then.”
The other man waved dismissively and moved toward one of the tanning workstations. Jack watched the ancient Hero grunt as he shuffled along for a few steps and then quietly left him to whatever task he’d come to distract himself with.
Without really a plan other than to get somewhere quiet and think, Jack passed back between the red-hued pumpkins down the stairs out of Angelshade. He made sure no one was watching then focused on the furthest south visible stretch of land and Teleported straight away from the Gate.
Mother Sana snapped forward to meet him with a frigid sea wind slapping him in the face, and Jack found himself alone out under an early twilight on a sandy island at the edge of the world. He still had an hour and a half before full dusk and used the weak glow of the sky to take in his surroundings. The Tower was about a mile behind him along with a considerable amount of choppy seawater between him and the shore. He was on one island among many dotted along the coast and they grew more numerous closer back west toward the distant mountains- now much easier to make out against the burnt orange of the setting sun.
“Tyga Slopes, confirmed,” Alt said in his mind. “Map updated.”
“Angelshade’s influence extends to the edge. That’s good news.”
“Indeed. You are looking at the southern edge of the game world. Blackmoor Cove is almost directly on the other side of here.”
Jack nodded into the wind.
“It’s colder here. There’s an ice to the air.”
“I do not believe your home cove is as close to the northernmost playable area as you are now to the south.”
“Better build a proper campfire then,” Jack said as he started tossing torches down into the course terrain. After he’d plopped down 3 of the 64 he had on him, Jack thought of a better idea. As he’d done before, he summoned a lower-level spear to his hand and then jammed it in the loose sand and rocks. The island was about fifty yards in diameter, so he had plenty of space to mess around.
And that was exactly what he did. With no real end goal in place other than blocking the wind, Jack let his mind wander as he jabbed spear after spear into a tight circle. Then he slipped a few shields and pieces of low-level armor over the shafts. After a good thirty minutes of interlocking random gear like the soothing numbness of a jigsaw puzzle, he’d successfully weaved a solid enclosure of dropped gear around his multi-torch campfire. Jack let out a sigh as he sat comfortably on a bench made from two chest plates standing upright with a long shield for the seat.
“Two woolen wizard’s robes were the way to go,” Jack said out loud as he tested the stability of his junk throne. “Just enough cushion.”
“In theory,” Alt said, “if you anchored it deeper, this shelter of weapons and armor could last decades before wind and waves affected structural integrity- despite lacking a roof. Also, because you used mostly lower-level gear, it only cost you 788 in value.”
“Anyone stumbling onto this mess at the edge of the world will be scratching their virtual heads at its existence.”
“Any such future NPC would need to swim through icy sea water to get here.”
Jack smiled and decided he’d be leaving some torches when he left to encourage exploration. Maybe even showcase a high-level weapon or a pile of coins too. It only took five seconds of staring into the flames for his wandering brain to make a connection with what Alt just said and remember he had some serious science to do.
So, he rolled up
his sleeves and got to work.
The first thing Jack did was reconstruct his bonfire to stand a piece of copper cuirass chest armor in the center. With several torches arrayed underneath and more jammed into the armholes, he’d funneled most of the heat toward the upward-facing neck hole. Next, he summoned the lowest-level metal helm and scooped up some icy sea water. With his leather gloves protecting him enough for what he was doing, Jack balanced the helm over the armor oven’s neck-hole and sat on his homemade bench.
“Alt,” Jack began as he stared at the experiment. “You have a saying in your world ‘a watched pot never boils’?”
“Yes, actually,” answered the voice in his head. “Exactly that. Perhaps we’ve uncovered another universal constant.”
“More like humans get bored easily and sitting still for a few minutes is literally an eternity of torture.”
Alt sent back warm amusement. “Believe it or not, it’s one of your best qualities.”
- 11 -
The sea water held within the metal Head-Slot item did eventually boil and Jack watched as the rising vapor vanished in the gusts above makeshift shelter.
“Well,” he said to the AI watching closely, “I suppose infinite steam power is a thing, although I don’t know how useful it will be- especially since I don’t know what to do with it. I know a little about turbine generators, and we might be able to generate electricity, if we had magnets. And I still wouldn’t know what to do with electricity any more than I know what to do with perpetual steam.”
There was a long pause before Alt spoke.
“I will guide you as best I can, but we’ve talked before about my inability to spawn technology. Even with me guiding you directly, Subroutine Sana lacks requisite industrial manufacturing infrastructure-”
Jack waved his hand as he sat forward. “I know, I’d have to make precise gears by hand and even basic electronics are way off, and I know that discovering abuses of videogame physics on my own triggers some metaphysical thorn in the side of the Corruption. I know, buddy, and I understand.”