Blackout: Book One (A Post-Apocalyptic Dystopian Thriller)

by Adam Drake

  Mudhoof snorted in irritation. “Still, it was a cheap shot. Stabbing someone in the back when they're not looking? How cowardly can you...” his voice trailed off as he realized who he was talking to. He smiled sheepishly. “I'm excluding you, of course, Vee.”

  “Of course,” I said with a playful rolling of the eyes. “But Perriwinkle is a symptom of my problem. It is the disease we need to cure once and for all. The sooner the better.”

  I turned to the healer. “Where might we find the nearest Locators Guild here in town?”

  “You will find one across the main square. They are beside the new clockworks shop. Can't miss them.”

  Thanking him, Mudhoof and I went to the Temple's entrance. We stood in the wide open doorway and took in the sight of the town.

  Typical medieval setting with cobblestone streets and stone-earth buildings wedged up against each other. Beggars begged and barkers barked. Occasionally, a player would pass our view and I tensed up if they looked in my direction.

  “No worries, Vee,” Mudhoof said, tightening the grip on his battle axe. “I got your back.”

  Any of these players could be a bounty hunter, biding their time for the right opportunity to strike once I left the safety of the Temple.

  Casually, we descended the stairs and made our way across the town square. Many people milled about, townsfolk and players, and we did our best to keep some distance from all of them.

  “This just underscores what I've been saying,” I said, keeping one hand on the pommel of the sword sheathed at my hip.

  Mudhoof sneered at a woman carrying a basket of apples who got to close, causing her to give us a wide birth. “What's that? That I'm awesome and wonderful and you can't have a proper adventure without me?”

  “Well, yes, that is all true, too. But I mean getting rid of this bounty. I'll never have a moments rest until that happens. Questing is almost entirely out of the question. At least not open world quests.”

  Mudhoof said, “You can still do instances with me and Thorm. No worries there.”

  “Yes, but I can't stay in an instance forever. And I'm not logging out and staying away from the game just because of it.”

  Mudhoof scoffed. “Now that would be a fate worse than death.”

  We reached the other side of the square unmolested, but our guard was still up. I spotted the Locators Guild sign with its stylized symbol of a compass, a few doors down.

  As we walked to it Mudhoof stopped in front of the clockworks shop next door. Its wide bay windows were filled with little clockwork robots which teetered around and belched steam. A shopkeeper emerged and placed a small robot on the ground. The machine wobbled about, inner gears grinding loudly.

  I was unimpressed. Clockworks was a new feature recently implemented into the game. Players can purchase, and even learn to make, clockwork beings for a myriad of tasks. Many players loved it. Personally, I didn't care for them. Too steampunk for me, but to each their own.

  “Cute, huh?” Mudhoof said as the robot bumped into a flower pot, shot out steam from a suspiciously placed orifice, then teetered off in a new direction. When Mudhoof noticed my expression he added, “Uh, maybe I should just smash it.”

  I motioned to the Locators Guild. “Let's get inside before the shopkeeper brings out bigger versions of that thing.”

  Entering a Locators Guild always gave me a little rush. It was crammed with maps. Large tapestry maps hung from the walls, rolled parchment maps were stacked on top of each other within narrow shelves. The smell of inked parchment and stitched wool assailed my nostrils and I turned up my simulation suit's olfactory settings to take it in like an addict.

  Various globes spun on stands, each representing some of the more popular worlds that filled the game.

  The service counter was at the back wall, and as we walked toward it I took my time to peruse all the worlds and places I would love to visit. There was so much to see and do within the game; billions of locations and near limitless quests to go on. I had no hope of seeing and doing it all within my lifetime. But I would have fun trying.

  I paused at a strange-looking globe, its surface blighted and blackened.

  “Looks like it was nuked,” said Mudhoof, looking over my shoulder. “No more loot to be found there.” It appeared that way. Where there once were continents and cities, now smudged outlines remained. Vast oceans had become deep, wide canyons and shattered rock.

  I selected the world's name. Herronia.

  “I wonder what happened to it,” I said.

  “Destroyed. By the Demon King,” said a man who appeared from behind a towering bookcase.

  I tensed for a fight, but immediately relaxed. Like the Temple, the Guild was a safezone.

  The man approached carrying a bundle of map rolls under one arm. His name appeared above his head. Yibbet (Locators Guild Cartographer).

  The mention of the Demon King, a recent enemy who nearly wiped out my whole party on a previous quest, caught my interest. “Destroyed it how?” I asked.

  Yibbet shrugged a skinny frame from within billowy yellow robes. “No one has any facts as to how, exactly. Some have reported a thick white fog encompassed Herronia's entire surface which preventing anyone from seeing. Then when it dissipated the planet looked like that. But other reports claim asteroids were nudged from their nearby orbits and pummeled the surface.”

  Examining the globe closer, I said, “Doesn't look like there are any impact craters.”

  Another shrug. Yibbet said, “Although we at the Locators guild pride ourselves on accuracy, we don't always go the extra mile to map out utter destruction.” His neutral expression was replaced by a genial smile. “Are you here about a map of Herronia? I can provide one for a modest sum.”

  Mudhoof barked a laugh. “Bet all your maps of the place are now heavily discounted.”

  “No,” I said. “We're interested in your locating service.”

  Yibbet brightened. “Very good. Please follow me.” He dropped the maps he was carrying on a table and led us deeper inside.

  Atop a podium was a large open book, thick with weathered pages. Yibbet stood over it and brought out a beautiful blue quill pen, which looked expensive. As he dipped its tip in a squat ink bottle, I couldn't help myself and pulled up the statistics for the pen.

  Item: Niqix Quill Feather (Rare), Weight 0.01 Units, Uses: Can be used in Alchemy, Cartography and Inscribing spells. Value: Unknown.

  Do you wish to query for current auction house prices? Y/N

  I selected Yes.

  Querying. Item found. Current asking price range is 450 Gold Pieces to 620 Gold Pieces.

  Impressive, I thought. Rare items that could be used across a broad range of skill sets were worth a lot.

  “Person, place, or thing?” Yibbet asked. He stood with the Niqix Quill Feather poised above a blank sheet of the open book.

  I dismissed the statistics screen from my view. Nosey gamer, me.

  “Uh, place,” I said.

  Yibbet carefully drew a symbol at the top of the page. Finished, he asked, “Name?”

  “Uh,” I gave Mudhoof a glance who was trying to stifle a grin. “Wally's Womp.”

  “Can you spell it, please?”

  I did with a little uncertainty.

  The Cartographer blinked. “Interesting,” he said, then wrote the name under the symbol. I didn't doubt he had heard untold names over his years of service, and each one would have been 'interesting'.

  Finished, Yibbet stood back and watched the page expectantly. “Hmm,” he said after a few moments.

  “What is it?” I said.

  “According to the Locator's book there is no place named Wally's Womp,” he said.

  “Maybe you spelt it wrong,” Mudhoof said.

  “I'll try Wally with one 'l',” Yibbet said, but that did not produce a result either.

  “Okay,” I said, getting worried. “Try 'Thing'.” Maybe Kragg had lied after all.

  Yibbet turned over to a fresh b
lank page, drawing a different symbol at the top. Beneath, he wrote 'Wally's Womp'.

  This time something happened. The symbol and name on the page moved about on their own, swirling and stretching. Then, a single word appeared replacing them. 'Masked'.

  “Ah,” said Yibbet.

  “Ah, what?” I said. That didn't sound good.

  “Someone has paid a lot of money to negate the search for a thing named Wally's Womp,” Yibbet said. “I cannot attain its exact location, as a result.”

  Mudhoof snorted. “Trite did it.”

  I nodded. It made sense Ogden would use his vast resources to hide the access point to his guildhall. Many guilds did it as well. It wasn't a perfect solution; someone determined enough could do some detective work to eventually find them. But my time was short.

  To Yibbet, I asked, “Is there any way to get around the Masking of a search? Perhaps pay an extra fee?” The last was said hopefully. I didn't have a lot of gold, but would spend it all for a shot at Trite.

  The cartographer shook his head, “I am sorry, miss. Once a Masking is placed it will remain so for its duration.”

  “Duration?”

  “There is a thirty-day limit to a Masking, which can then be renewed.”

  I frowned. Unless Ogden stopped paying his monthly bill, which was doubtful, I had no immediate way to get the location.

  Mudhoof, showing his frustration, scoffed. He produced a large silver medallion from his inventory. The game brought up its identification. 'Sliver Of Knowledge'. He handed it to Yibbet. “Here,” he said. “This should take care of it.”

  My eyes widened. “I didn't know you had one of those.” I was shocked. Sliver Of Knowledge medallions were the ultimate form of payment to any Locators Guild. All of their more privileged services would be available to someone with one. As a result, the medallions were incredibly rare, and very expensive.

  “Are you sure you want to use that now?” I asked Mudhoof. “That's worth a ton of money.”

  Mudhoof waved a hand. “Yeah, why not. It's what they're for. And I'm not in need of locating anything else at the moment.” He grinned.

  “Thank you, Muddie,” I said, and patted his arm.

  Yibbet's eyes grew big at the medallion in his hand and gave Mudhoof a respectful bow. “What is it you require, sir,” he said.

  “Give us the location of the thing named Wally's Womp.”

  “Alas, the Masking cannot be circumvented by any means, but with this Sliver Of Knowledge a can provide you with the closest known travel gate. Would that be sufficient?”

  Mudhoof nodded. “Make it so, Number One.”

  After another bow, Yibbet turned the book to new page. He drew the symbol and wrote the name.

  Immediately the page swirled them about and this time a detailed map appeared.

  “Bingo!” I said with delight.

  “Walley's Womp is located near a travel gate in the Tormen Region on the planet Glidian,” Yibbish said. “I will give you a copy, and the most effective route to get there. Be advised, if you deviate from this route, the map will adjust accordingly.”

  I was beyond happy with this result. Going from not having a clue where to find Ogden, to practically being served the exact location of his hiding spot put me over the moon.

  Map in hand, I thanked Yibbish, and we went back out into the town square.

  “This is great, Muddie,” I said. “Let's get to the nearest travel gate and-”.

  “THERE SHE IS!” a voice boomed over the noise of the bustling crowds.

  Mudhoof and I turned to look.

  Walking toward us, from the direction of the Temple, was a heavily armed group of players. Their disposition indicated they were spoiling for a fight.

  And standing in the middle of them, pointing a finger at me was a Shadow I recognized.

  Perriwinkle.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “Well, this sucks,” said Mudhoof.

  Instantly, both Mudhoof and I had weapons in hand; I with my bow, and Muddie with his massive twin bladed battle axe.

  I assessed the opposing players. Two warriors, a stone mage, and Perriwinkle. All were at my level or just below. One on one, I was certain I could take each on, but as a group, even with Mudhoof by my side, it would be difficult.

  “Vivian Valesh,” Perriwinkle said, grinning widely. “I knew you'd wash up here once I realized my poison didn't finish you off.” He made a tsk-tsk noise, then said. “At least now I get the pleasure of killing you face to face.”

  “You're our bounty, FILTERED!” roared a warrior, a human viking. He wore a simple set of chain-mail armor, along with an iron cap helmet with a single horn sticking out to one side.

  “Now, guys,” I said, “Maybe we can work out some sort of deal?” The Temple was behind them, and its safezone felt far away. There would be no going around this lot. We'd have to go through them.

  “Hey, Pickle-winkle,” said Mudhoof. “Want some face-to-face time? Come closer.” He swirled his battle axe around and grinned.

  “Enough discussion!” shouted the second warrior. He was a knight in all black armor from head to toe. I would bet a million gold pieces that the player behind him was a pimply faced thirteen year old skulking in his mother's basement.

  When the black knight was shouting, I summoned a magma arrow into my empty quiver. With tremendous effort I did not look directly at my intended target.

  The knight drew a pure black sword from his sheath with a flourish. “Time for killing!” he bellowed.

  “Okay!” I said and use my new Quick Draw ability to fire the arrow.

  The opposing group tensed but the arrow was almost home.

  Rule number one of group PvP: Kill the magic users first.

  At the last moment the stone mage's eyes widened in alarm. Then he made an upward sweeping motion with one hand, brown robes swirling about.

  A thick slab of cobblestone suddenly jutted out of the ground directly in front of him. It could easily block any incoming volleys.

  But not a magma arrow.

  The red hot projectile shot straight through the cobblestone like it wasn't even there and the arrow then pierced the mage in the middle of his chest.

  The stone mage tried to shout but instead of words, hot magma spewed from his mouth. His robes caught on fire and he collapsed to the ground in a red bubbling heap.

  The combat log showed:

  Vivian Valesh one-shot Rocky Ridgeway with a magma arrow. Rocky Ridgeway is dead. Vivian Valesh earns double PvP battle points for an instant kill.

  The rest of the group, seasoned veterans of player versus player encounters, barely registered their companion's death. They were already on the move.

  Perriwinkle pulled his gaze away from the dead stone mage and locked on me. He moved forward but with caution; a sword in one hand, the poisoned crystal dagger in the other.

  Mudhoof roared. “First kill, ya FILTERing FILTEREDs!” He waved at the other two warriors, indicating they should come closer.

  To my relief, both the viking and the knight obliged him. No doubt they knew Mudhoof was the greater threat and needed to be dealt with first.

  Fine by me.

  As Perriwinkle got within striking range, I switched my bow out for my sword. Although one handed, I gripped it with both, giving me greater control. We circled one another, sizing each other up.

  “I owe you a stab in the back, buddy,” I said. But Perriwinkle didn't retort, only grinned.

  Was he trying to draw me in, make me try a first strike? I didn't bite. Wait and see what he did seemed the most prudent tactic.

  Behind me, I heard the mighty clash of steel against steel. All three warriors were shouting at each other, and practically every word was FILTERED. I knew Mudhoof would keep them engaged. Once I dispatched this sneaky bounty hunter I'd help him out.

  But Perriwinkle refused to come any closer. In fact, he kept sidestepping away when I tried to shorten the distance between us.

  Did he not w
ant to fight? Or was he thinking the same as me: keep the Shadow busy until the warriors can come and take her out.

  Then I saw it. The sun was behind me and cast a building's shadow onto the cobblestone square. From this shadow grew another smaller one. Then another.