by Domino Finn
The people on the street made way for us. Some cheered and gave us words of encouragement. Most looked on with passive expressions. Not hopeful, not forlorn. I couldn't tell what they were thinking and couldn't imagine what they'd seen. The horrors of the afterlife, no doubt.
"What the hell are we gonna do about all of them?" I breathed.
"I'd prefer if you didn't blaspheme," requested Vagram. "The use of such words betrays a lack of faith."
I rolled my eyes. "You're still here?"
He clenched his jaw. "But since you asked, they must be repatriated."
"To Oakengard?"
"If need be, but Shorehome is the closest city, and the one responsible for the pagan uprising to begin with." His words were pointed, but not poisoned.
The adventuring party rode clear of the tent city. More of the priests broke away. Even some of the crusaders turned off to keep the peace and help the needy. The parade was over. Finally, our party was thinning.
Cleric Vagram annoyed me by continuing to ride at my side.
As a man, he was normal enough. As a crazed zealot, he was measured, so far at least. Gratingly strict, but someone who played by the rules. A code. I just wished that put me more at ease. I waited for Vagram to speak, but he remained quiet. I got the uneasy feeling he was the one studying me.
"Just so you know," I started, "I have nothing against crusaders. Live and let live, is what I say."
"A dangerous motto."
I furrowed my brow. "How so?"
"Shall we let the pagans live, when their lives are predicated on taking ours?"
"That's different."
The cleric watched me expectantly.
"Well," I reasoned, "they're mobs, right? Monsters."
He nodded satisfactorily. "At least you understand that much."
"The saints told me goblins are a vital part of the ecosystem."
Vagram's eyes squinted sharply. "Perhaps the saints did not properly distrust the wild, and this is the result. But fear not, Saint Loras has granted us full authority on the matter. The pagans are a menace. It is our cause to correct it."
"I thought your cause was saving Shorehome?"
He sniggered. "Shorehome's prospects are irrevocably tied to the fate of the pagans. You'll understand when we arrive."
I pulled Bandit sideways and stopped the party. It was several of us now, with me and the cleric at the lead. "We?"
Vagram's horse slowed, but didn't stop. "Of course. A cleric must consult on holy matters such as these."
I should've known Vagram was the one sent to lead the party. It was doubtful any of the priests would chat me up otherwise. The cleric rode ahead, leaving me behind. The rest of the convoy followed. Izzy, Grimwart, four crusaders, and a pirate.
Nine of us. Nine adventurers to match the nine great cities of Haven, marching for the fate of the simulation itself.
Why was it I didn't feel like much of a hero?
0660 HeroQuest
They say there's strength in numbers, but our group didn't comfort me. For one, we've all seen how fantasy fellowships have fared in the past. Ours had more commonality, perhaps, but seams of tension ran right down the middle. A unified group this wasn't.
Even though I was the explorer, I let Vagram lead the way. How bad could you screw up following a road? Izzy and I decided to stick together and get to know Grimwart. He was a proud battlefield commander, pompous and stern, but utterly straightforward. It was a grossly underrated trait. And despite some of the crusaders looking down on mystics, he was nothing but polite.
Grimwart explained that the saints would usually bless them with fast travel—direct teleportation lines between cities—but when Shorehome had fallen so too had the reliability of these convenience capabilities. He was oblivious to the truth of how bad it was: The city was no longer governed by the saints. They had little influence in the area, a fact which would grow clearer the closer we got to the sacked city.
On the plus side, Oakengard was a city rife with mounts. I hadn't seen many around Stronghold, Bandit being the notable exception. Grimwart relayed how mounts could cover fifty percent more ground over a day than a walking adventurer. It seemed on the low side to me, but it was an understandable concession in a simulation. The devs didn't want players crossing from one side of the world to the other in a single session. So while horses were faster than people, their stamina tired them out much quicker, containing them to a reasonable walk most of the time.
After chatting with Grimwart for a while, I turned a curious eye to the rest of the company. As the only two players in the fellowship, Izzy and I were the only ones with forward-facing levels. It was otherwise difficult to tell an NPC's power level since their names weren't color-coded like mobs. For obvious reasons, I was especially concerned about the pirate with a grievance. Vagram and Grimwart had to be capable. In fact, I suspected everyone in the party was a good hand in combat.
That, combined with sticking to the road, kept the random mobs we passed from aggroing on us. We rode straight east through the scrubland in relative ease for half a day. The land was flat, open, and honestly, a little boring.
Finally, in the afternoon, there was a break in the monotony. On the side of the road in the distance was a stone structure. A few stragglers attended it.
"Stay alert, soldiers," ordered Grimwart.
His knights sat up straighter, abandoning the lackadaisical contentment. Even the horses snorted and hopped in anticipation.
"It's a watering well," explained the colonel. "No need for worry." He kicked his horse ahead.
Izzy pulled close to me. "NPCs," she noted.
"Maybe we'll finally see some action," announced Errol, surging past us to the head of the party.
I stiffened and lowered my voice. "We shouldn't let him sneak up on us like that."
Her gaze followed him. "What is it with you and that guy?"
"Besides the fact that he's a pirate?"
She shrugged.
"We had a sort of... confrontation in town."
She raised an eyebrow, amused. "You and him? He didn't call you a scurvy landlubber, did he?"
"I'm serious, Izzy. He really resents us for some reason. Could be that Stronghold's free. Could be Dragonperch. Or even just that we succeeded where he failed. It doesn't matter. He's dangerous."
She frowned. "Fine, then. We'll keep an eye on him."
Grimwart, Vagram, and Errol broke away and galloped toward what looked like two men and two children. I didn't see where it came from, but the cleric had a glittering bronze sword in one hand. Errol followed his lead and drew a rapier.
"Crap," I realized. "We'd better make sure there's no needless bloodshed." I pushed Bandit into the fray.
The crusaders slowed but Errol lapped his horse around the drifters and the well. Two loops meant to intimidate those surrounded and on foot. The men huddled close to the children, each one covered in a protective cloak.
"Show your hands, travelers," ordered Grimwart. "We are on a mission of peace, and will extend a hand of friendship to those of like mind."
One of the men wrapped his arms around a child sitting against the stone well. "Please," he said. "We mean you no harm."
"Show yer hands," snapped Errol. He reared his horse over the terrified drifters. Four hands shot to the sky, but the man huddled against the child didn't move. Errol's horse advanced.
I hopped off Bandit, pushed past the soldiers, and batted away the pirate's sword. "Give him a chance to speak."
Weathered eyes measured me. "Please," the man said again. "We barely made it. We have nothing."
I didn't see weapons bulging beneath their cloaks. The man was holding the kid, whose head was covered.
"The child is stricken," noted Vagram. He dismounted, no longer holding his sword. "Let me see her." The man pulled away but Vagram moved too certainly. He was upon them and thrusting back the kid's hood before the father could react.
"Please," he begged. "She's dying."
/>
"Exposure," reported the cleric. "From the moor, no doubt. Is she taking water?"
The father's eyes pressed closed. "She won't wake up."
Vagram knelt beside them and drew a bronze cross encrusted with a gem on each arm. "Fear not, traveler. No one is beyond the grasp of the Lord of Men." The cleric placed the artifact on the child's head and muttered a prayer. Within seconds, the deathly pallor on her face vanished. Her eyes opened and she convulsed into a fit of coughing. "Water!"
I scrambled to the well and dragged the bucket over the wall. We splashed the girl's face and let her drink. She sipped in small increments.
"It's a miracle!" exclaimed the father. He looked at the man hugging the younger child. They were beyond jubilant.
I turned to Izzy. She watched the entire affair, unmoved. It's not that she didn't feel anything. She had to. She was just an expert at hiding it. I shook off the tension that had built within me and helped the travelers to more water.
The swords were sheathed, the soldiers dismounted, and the drifters told us the story of their travels. Fleeing Shorehome, beset by enemies from all directions, stranded in the moor to the north. Less than a third had survived the voyage. We assured them they'd hit Stronghold by nightfall. They frosted us with everlasting gratitude and went on their way.
We all had water and relaxed. Food and water and rest weren't necessary in Haven, but they all contributed to efficient stamina usage, among other things. If you wanted to travel at peak speed, it was important to be well hydrated.
"We must continue," prodded Cleric Vagram. "The sun is falling, and we must clear Ashen Moor by daybreak tomorrow. Those poor folk traversed that harsh terrain under the full heat of the sun. We cannot make the same mistake."
The crusaders mounted up. Errol sat against the well with his legs crossed, using a knife to carve bites from an apple. He seemed to have a thing for blades. If I hadn't stayed his sword, I wondered how far he would've pressed the drifters.
Izzy and I saddled up and followed the crusaders northeast. I kept an eye on the pirate as he came up the rear. I let him pass and we followed.
The road was well worn. At the well, it had split off into northerly and southerly branches. My map didn't show a whole lot ahead of us, but I could see our path start to lose definition. Indeed, within the hour the plains grew more barren and the road less distinguishable. I flicked my map open back and forth as the heat grew until the label appeared: Ashen Moor.
Everything was gray out here. The dirt, the sedges. We rode through a barren wasteland where steam seeped from the ground. Unsurprisingly, there was no evidence of nearby wildlife.
"What's the deal with the exposure that kid had?" I wondered. "We can't actually suffer fatigue in Haven, can we?"
"Not that I know of," answered Izzy. "But I've seen terrain damage once or twice."
To punctuate that statement, we rode past the dried bones of a pack animal.
Luckily, the sun was late in the sky. Maybe this Cleric Vagram did actually know what he was doing a little bit. His kindness to the travelers had certainly earned him a fair chance in my eyes. Now the heat bordered on stifling, but no one was taking damage. We soon lost any semblance of a path completely. I took a more active part in guiding the group, managing to avoid jets of steam that could've been trouble. Our stalwart band of adventurers proceeded onward with little comment until I wondered if we were lost. I once again studied the map.
"Argh!"
I swiped my menu closed as a crusader barreled from his horse. A segmented snake the length of two horses had him in a rounded mouth. Its tail flew past as swords scraped from their scabbards.
0670 Worms
The ground rumbled.
[Sandworm]
120 Health
"Holy crap!" I whirled Bandit around. Gray dirt shook. Bandit hopped to the side as another sandworm burst through the ground and whiffed.
Errol whistled to get Grimwart's attention. A worm charged the black-armored colonel. The two of them stabbed downward as the animal roared past like a train.
A few horses took off in pursuit of the downed soldier. Izzy was on one of them. I got a bead on a trail of dirt tunneling her way. I flicked the dragonspear to my hand and charged.
The sandworm burst from the ground just as Bandit lowered her horns. I put my weight into the spear and triggered deadshot. The combat skill was maxed out at level 3 now and didn't play around. The dragonspear slid into the rough serpent's flesh.
Charge!
You dealt 68 damage to [Sandworm]
[Bandit] dealt 28 damage to [Sandworm]
The momentum of the creature nearly ripped the weapon from my hand as it trained forward. It rolled in pain but didn't make a noise. As I readied another blow, it sank back into the ground.
"There's too many of them," yelled one of the crusaders. He'd been thrown from his horse and had backed toward the cleric. There were at least three more worms surrounding the main party.
Izzy was attempting to rescue the crusader still in the mouth of the first sandworm. Fortunately it wasn't so easy for them to disappear underground with an oversized mouthful. The worm couldn't angle its head in to burrow. Instead it relied on its impressive land speed and the harrying of its friends.
Fortunately, the crusaders were well-trained. Two horses flanked the worm and cut at its sides. Izzy's horse was less cooperative, spinning in terror.
"Screw this," she spat.
She flipped backward off the horse, little dragonfly wings buzzing at her back, and landed lightly on her feet right in the path of the sandworm. She raised her small dagger-like frost wand and called an arsenal of icicles to her side. They bombarded the worm just past its head, giving enough clearance to the wounded soldier.
The giant snake released the crusader and rolled away, attempting an escape. The largest of Izzy's ice edges spiked it to the ground, causing high damage. The other two crusaders came in with vicious blows to finish it off.
That worry over with, I pressed Bandit toward the main group. A golden flash painted my skin and that of the others surrounding the cleric.
Divine Right!
For the next 30 seconds, your attacks inflict extra damage.
Well, rock on. My spear cut into the worm attacking the horseless crusader. The melee was a mad jumble, though. Vagram held a sword in each hand and cleaved pieces off the serpents. Errol, like Izzy, had hopped off his horse. His rapier inflicted less damage but he danced this way and that, almost untouchable. I didn't think giant worm monsters could get frustrated, but the pirate was certainly giving it a go.
As I strafed around the party, a sandworm knocked Bandit off her feet.
Agility Check...
Pass!
I tumbled into a controlled roll. Bandit flailed and the serpent looped around to take advantage of a large meal on its back. I sprinted around her and used my dash skill. The dragonspear rocketed into muddy-red flesh, but the giant thing kept rumbling toward me. My boots skidded against the ground as I attempted to stop it. Bandit rolled to her hooves and lowered her horns. The stout mountain bongo braced for the impact and the sandworm thudded to a stop.
The spear, still buried in the beast, twisted out of my grip as the beast roiled over. I tried to hold on and was jerked over the great body.
Agility Check...
Fail!
My back hit the colorless dirt of the moor in a puff of smoke. It had been days since I'd failed an agility check. I should've let the spear go. Now I was on the ground, vulnerable as the serpent's face spun to me—no eyes but a circle of jagged little teeth all the way down like a cheese grater and a garbage disposal combined. The mouth descended.
Cleric Vagram heaved his swords in an arc, lopping off half the beast's face (and giving me a good scare too). I rolled to the side as the sandworm gave a last kick and died. I dug my spear from its body and gave Vagram a gruff nod.
By now the other crusaders had returned to the main party. Everyone had a weapon
ready. Four serpents lay motionless at our outskirts, but streams of dirt Bugs-Bunnied all around, forcing our backs together in a tight grouping.
"They keep coming," muttered one of the knights.
Three sandworms showed themselves. Four. A head peeking out. A body arching like a whale breaking the water. What worried me much more was all the ground movement unaccompanied by a visible beast. There must've been ten of them.
"Damn this thing!" screamed Izzy.
My head jerked. She was still out there, by herself, recovering her spooked horse. The thing reared and tore away from her. She cursed again as it retreated deeper into the lifeless moor.
"Get back here!" I yelled.
A worm the color of dried blood burst from the ground and veered toward her. It was twice the size of the others.
[Great Sandworm]
325 Health
Izzy clenched her jaw and sprinted toward us. I started away from the group to help her.
"Stay together!" she said.
I nodded. Izzy liked to handle herself, and I liked her for it, but this one was cutting it close. I clenched my fists as she ran toward us, a little purple pixie followed by a super-sized sandworm kicking up a spray of gray dirt.
No way she could outrun that thing on foot.
I charged straight at her, spear in hand. She glanced back, eyes wide. The serpent glided along the surface of the ground, bearing down on her. She realized she was out of time.
Izzy spun around and pointed her staff. She was gonna get steamrolled.
I triggered dash and kicked forward with extra speed, just barely enough to wrap my arm around Izzy's waist as the boss spread its mouth ready to slice and dice.