A Slave in the Locked Lands

by Arthur Stone

  Danger Babe had chosed the wrong moment to log off!

  Ros cast two healing spells at the girl before the archer came to his senses and shot another arrow. Her HP went down drastically, and Ros realized why Tangh had been acting as a human shield. Flightings were “rags” of the highest order, and without equipment even lowly rats could make short work of them.

  He cast another healing spell, and shielded her with his own body, looking daggers at the archer. The latter cried out, overjoyed to have his impunity:

  “I’m here because of you! So, get ready, you noob! I’ll be corpse-camping you for hours, and your girl as well! I’ll drop you all the way to level 10!”

  Ros was afraid of moving for fear one of the arrows might hit Danger Babe. He tried to catch the next one with his hands, but failed as his shoulder exploded with pain. He hurried to cast a healing spell on himself, and pull out the archer’s “present.”

  “Plain arrow with no arrowhead, fletched with thin wood bark fragments.”

  The bastard was apparently using the best he could craft by himself, and those arrows weren’t nowhere good enough. With a noobish bow, to boot—a ridiculous affair.

  “You could have tried to kill me by spitting with the same effect!” Ros shouted defiantly.

  “Laugh all you want, you bastard! I’ll start throwing rocks at you as soon as I run out of arrows!”

  “Aren’t you a little spot of sunshine?”

  “I hate everyone who steals stuff from others! The stuff that’s rightfully theirs! I hate whores, too! So, here goes!”

  Another healing spell. Ros didn’t mind this—with his mana poo, he would pull through just fine. He was just hoping the elvish prick would not cause a rockfall. There were enough rocks above them, some of which were clearly unstable. That might pose a real problem should he manage to dislodge some of the heavier ones.

  “This is the last arrow! Then I’ll bury you all!” HedTeSdjo kept on shrieking.

  Ugh, he must have been serious about the rockfall.

  HedTeSdjo took good and careful aim—it was his last arrow, after all. So great was his focus that he ended up completely missing a tall and sinister-looking figure at his back. The norder gave the little evildoer a hearty kick in the rear, and Ros flashed a wide grin as he fell all the way down—the feeling was like waving goodbye at a train carrying a mother-in-law from hell to actual hell. The shriek of despair ended with a thud, and the body grew stiff on the rocks below. It was a pity this wasn’t real life—Ros would have taken the bow for good measure.

  Still, his name was now in red lettering, for he had killed Tangh without returning any damage, so there was still a chance justice would be served in full.

  And it was. In addition to the bow, Ros managed to get something else from the corpse: six pieces of meat. The meat was familiar—he’d cooked it himself late last night.

  “Sorry, Tangh, I was a little late,” he said to the approaching norder.

  “Praise the good Lord that death is not real here. I see you got his bow. That’s good.”

  “What’s the use? It’s just a stick with a bit of string attached. Looks like he used his own hair for it. He’ll make another one easily enough—pieces of wood aren’t exactly in short supply here. But how did he come across that meat I’d given you? He had six pieces, no less.”

  The norder frowned.

  “So that’s what happened.”

  “What?”

  “I did exactly what I’d told you I would. I placed the meat in their pockets and then wrote about it on the forum. This archer must have some theft skills. Not that you need much to steal from these rags. What a thieving piece of filth. This is not good. I gave my word on the forum, after all.”

  “I have more meat. We can roast it right now. Although…”

  Ros saw the archer’s body disappear and started to run upwards, shouting:

  “Look after Danger Babe!”

  He made it just in the nick of time. Seeing the uninvited guest approach, HedTeSdjo decided not to linger at the bind point, legging it towards the mobs near the wall, apparently hoping they would protect him. Ros used Roots to immobilize him, and finished him off with two Chaos Arrows. It was convenient that players respawned with just 20% of their HP. The little turd didn’t have to suffer long.

  “Your summoned creature dies.”

  Ros wasn’t surprised. He was too far away from his pet, and one should never leave them unattended for too long.

  Ros sat down upon a stone, and started to whistle a simple melody. The body respawned within the stone circle in a minute, and tried to dash past Ros at breakneck speed. Revived characters became immune to all effects and damage, so the plan was sound.

  But he never made it.

  The murders did nothing to Ros’ karma, since his adversary’s name was already red. But that wouldn’t last long, as it would eventually get whiter and whiter—multiple deaths in quick succession were the shortest way to get the name to the initial white condition. There was another way, a much harder one, but without any XP loss or suffering—one had to kill mobs of a higher level. And the greater the level difference, the quicker you became “white” again.

  Ros would be white as bone before too long. As for his karma, many players had hundreds of fellow player kills without being inconvenienced much about it.

  Until their name turned red again, that is. Then, not only did their Luck take a big hit, they were primed to lose dozens of items upon each death.

  The sun had long been up when Danger Babe ran out of the crater, followed by the norder walking at a steady pace.

  “Ros! I’ve heard about everything! What are you doing?”

  “Please! Stop! I’ll never…” They heard a whimper from the other side.

  HedTeSdjo was no longer trying to run away, instead opting to try and reason with his ruthless killer. But there was no trusting him anymore. Another trusty Chaos Arrow, and the victim was silenced by another death.

  “Oh, hi there, Danger Babe. What happened to you yesterday?”

  “Ros! Your name is all red!”

  “Is it? That’s good news, in my opinion.”

  “There’s nothing good about it!”

  “Don’t think ill of me—it’s only red because of this guy.”

  HedTeSdjo decided against further pleading and rushed toward the wall, but barely managed to cover a third of the way, cursing angrily just before he died.

  “Why would he attack in the first place?” asked the girl.

  “The good Lord has made cretins work in mysterious ways,” said Tangh slowly as he approached.

  “He likes to shoot people,” Ros added. “I barely got to see him before getting hit with an arrow during our first encounter.”

  “How many times have you killed him already?” asked Danger Babe.

  “I wasn’t keeping count. His level was at 88, if I remember correctly, and it’s at 71 now. I intend to drop him all the way down to 10—that’s the lowest he can go.”

  “You bastard! You have no idea what you’re in for! When we get you, you’ll be so—”

  The archer didn’t manage to divulge the finer details of his plans for Ros on account of his sudden demise.

  “You’ll have to waste the whole day killing him,” said Tangh gruffly.

  “I don’t think I’ll ever tire of it.”

  “People need meat, and you’re the only one who can cook it. Leave this swine alone. We’ll take care of him together with Danger Babe.”

  “How?”

  “I’ll fight him, and she’ll take care of the control spells.”

  “But you have no weapons.”

  “I’d like to borrow your staff, if you don’t mind. It can deal physical damage, too, so I’ll use it like a club.”

  Ros killed a newly resurrected HedTeSdjo, and sent a trade message to the norder. Even though Second World looked completely real, there were still formalities to be observed. He couldn’t just hand an item over.

/>   “Show me how you intend to do it.”

  The norder turned toward Danger Babe.

  “Do you know any rooting spells?”

  “I sure do. I have mine leveled up to 18.”

  “Perfect. In that case, make sure he stays where he is. He’s a fast runner.”

  True to form, HedTeSdjo tried to get away once again upon resurrecting, but his feet never left the ground. The norder approached him slowly, then smashed the archer’s left kneecap as hard as he could, followed by the right. The enemy fell onto his back, unable to move his legs, and howled:

  “The lot of you are nuts! Sadists! Scumbags! Nazis! Bas—”

  “Got him,” Tangh grunted.

  Ros’ doubts were allayed—HedTeSdjo would get all the tender loving care he had so rightly deserved. His time now would be better spent over by the campfire, bartering with Agythric in the same way as earlier—giving up half the meat in exchange for the use of the overseer’s fire.

  * * *

  “The guys from the Russian data center called just now. They have AI issues, too.”

  “What’s the matter?”

  “They have no idea yet. But the symptoms are very similar. Exactly what we had. Today, and back then, the very first time. Well, you remember. There was a fire, too.”

  “AI loss?”

  “Precisely. The hardware’s all there, but might as well be nothing but a bunch of spare parts right now.”

  “So this thing has reached them, too…”

  “Not just them. Mexico reported a similar case just a few days ago.”

  “That one wasn’t completely clear.”

  “They’re trying to cover something up, but I’ll give you hundred-to-one odds they’re experiencing the same symptoms.”

  “It’s like an epidemic. Two in a single day.”

  “This makes four cases in all. Two here, one in Mexico, and now the Russians have been hit, too. Not enough to call it an epidemic.”

  “What else would you call it? We keep losing AIs, and nobody knows what’s causing it. And it keeps getting worse.”

  “Benelli has a version…”

  “Benelli has an inoperable case of idiocy. I’d be more inclined to believe him if he said the AIs were abducted by Martians to be used as sex slaves. Send a group of testers over to the Russians, and arrange all the necessary procedures to go smoothly. We have a contract with them, after all. Something might turn up.”

  Chapter 17

  Danger Babe and Tangh were sitting on the rocks of the resurrection circle, looking at the approaching Ros guiltily.

  Ros sighed. “Got away, didn’t he?”

  “It was my fault,” the norder replied. The rooting spell didn’t take, and he managed to get to the fire. My character is lumbering and slow, and I couldn’t keep up with him.”

  “Well, judging by the blood-red color of your name, he’s had one hell of a time.”

  “We got him down to 67. It is a sin to feel mirth at the suffering of a fellow being, but I’m happy nonetheless.”

  “It’s weird I never saw him. I was sitting right next to the fire, by the first wall.”

  “He tricked us by running in the opposite direction, then went down the crater. Must be hiding out somewhere in the mines.”

  “He won’t last long. The mobs down there are rather unfriendly.”

  “Are you going to wait for him here?” Danger Babe asked.

  “What do you think?”

  The girl shrugged.

  “It’s up to you. You’re the leader of the party.”

  “Me? You’re almost at 100, and I’m a measly 45. Why am I the leader?”

  Danger Babe and Tangh exchanged glances that spoke volumes, and smiled to each other just as mysteriously.

  “Is there something I’m not getting? What are you conspiring about?”

  “It’s fine,” said the norder. “We have just decided that you were… uh… the worthiest among us.”

  “So, now we have a party of three instead of two. But no one’s mentioned it to me, even though I’m supposed to be the leader, and that’s quite a serious expansion.”

  The norder shrugged.

  “I can leave. I have no intention of imposing myself on anyone.”

  Ros wouldn’t decline the offer even if the night visitor hadn’t warned him, and decided against pushing the issue.

  “I remember. You don’t like to ask people for anything. So, shall we get going?”

  “Down the mine?” Danger Babe asked.

  “Do they offer any other entertainment around here?”

  “I’m afraid I won’t be of much use in the mine,” said Tangh. I don’t have the Mining & Quarrying ability, and I’m a tank by profession. And what good is a tank without armor?”

  “Just grab your pickaxe and follow us.”

  “Very well, but, please, take it slow. I must be one of the slowest tanks in the world.”

  * * *

  Ros finished mining for another piece of gold ore, and headed back. Some hundred paces on, he helped Danger Babe get her piece of copper ore. Then they reached the cul-de-sac where Tangh was working.

  “Lunchtime. Have a seat.”

  The norder put his pickaxe away into his bag, and took out a piece of meat. Danger Babe tried her portion and winced.

  “It’s simply horrible. It was a lot better yesterday.”

  “Yesterday I cooked it carefully, over coals, which takes a lot of time. Although I could make it that way for us, and roast it quickly over a large fire for the rest of the guys.”

  “That’ll do.” The girl waved dismissively. “Hey, Ros, did you know Tangh can produce twice as much ore as me?”

  “That makes sense.”

  “How, exactly?”

  “He’s a tank. His Strength and Attack must be a lot higher than yours. And they directly affect the damage dealt to a resource in a mine.”

  Tangh nodded.

  “If I had a pickaxe like Danger Babe, I’d be four times faster, or maybe eight.”

  “Make one for him! Why don’t you?” Danger Babe looked at Ros with puppy-dog eyes.

  That look was hard to resist, and he’d be acting in his own interest, anyway—after all, Ros needed lots of ore to keep working on his Jewellery, Metallurgy, and Enchanting. He would be in need of lots of raw materials, in fact.

  “Tangh, do you have any worker skills?”

  “What exactly do you need?”

  “Mahogany wouldn’t hurt—or, at the very least, decent Woodworking or Carpentry. Danger Babe has hers at a minimum, and I have none at all.”

  “I’ve almost never tried to work with wood.”

  “Would you be able to work with hides? I need leather.”

  “Sure, but where would I get the necessary ingredients?”

  “Which ingredients would you need?”

  “The blood of the hide’s former owner, primarily. But it has to be fresh. Then you need some vessel to soak the hide and cover it with mull earth from some swamp. It’s easy to do, but it takes time and also stinks to the heavens. I know the process, but haven’t ever tried it myself. The quality is unlikely to be high, so the demand is low.”

  “What have you personally done?”

  “I’d worked with a few kits for processing hides and skins back in the day. Alchemists sell them.”

  “That sucks. I’ve never tried Alchemy myself—been too busy; besides, I have a friend who used to take care of it.”

  “In that case, there’s nothing I can do to help. If you give me some cloth, I can sew a few simple items.”

  “Where would I get any cloth? The only cloth available in the mine is in Agythric’s cape. And something tells me he won’t yield it to us.”

  As Ros talked, he kept prepping ingredients by placing them in an empty bag. He made a mental plea to his luck, and activated the process.