Rolfon held the wheel straight. “Josie!” he shouted down onto the deck.
“Aye, Captain!?” she responded.
“Pull the lever!”
Josie raced to a panel that was the ship’s operational console. Rolfon had outfitted his vessel with some fancy aftermarket parts, which really gave this ship some kick. Josie knew exactly which lever to pull.
Suddenly, the ship’s large mast sprung two smaller masts out of each side. They instantly caught the wind and the ship shot forward with enough force to unsteady Darkwind, who wasn’t holding onto any railing.
They cheered as the wave crashed behind them. They were able to slingshot out of danger, but they were off-course now. The weather seemed to be calm. Perhaps this was the eye of the storm? Even if it wasn’t a threat, Rolfon didn’t want them just sitting in these waters, lest a leviathan think they’re a meal. He reset their coordinates and they headed in that direction.
XIII
Lord Darian of Barul anticipated word from JosiePussycat16, whom he’d paid to join their expedition to gather information on Darkwind. He was interested in hiring Darkwind, but Lord Darian distrusted all in his employ. There had been numerous attempts to rob him, depose him, and even murder him, but he’d survived them all. And for their failures, the perpetrators suffered excruciating deaths.
One man, a servant, was caught trying to poison Lord Darian during a dinner celebration. Something told Darian not to drink from his cup during the toast. He hesitated, and being Lord of the manor, everyone awaited his cup. He called for the servant who brought him the drink. He handed the drink to the young man, whose hands visibly shook. Darian shoved the goblet into his hands and pressed it to his lips. The man drank.
A moment later, his eyes widened and he began to cough and choke. He foamed at the mouth and gagged as blood ran from his eyes and nostrils. The servant clasped at his throat trying to get any kind of breath at all, but his throat was filled with mucus and blood. He fell where he stood, the pink foam around his lips popped and he stared into nothingness.
But it would turn out that this servant had the better fate compared to the one who paid him.
Lord Darian sent his spies into all the taverns and inns throughout Barul and its neighboring towns. In Barclay, a suburb of Barul, one of Darian’s spies overheard talk of what happened, and he learned a name—Simon Endragon, a local entrepreneur who owned a variety of shops and a known member of the local Thieves’ Guild. Did this Simon Endragon try to have Lord Darian assassinated? If so, why?
The spy reported back to Lord Darian at once.
Lord Darian pondered the gravity of the information. Simon Endragon was a powerful man indeed, especially with the backing of the local Thieves Guild, and they had been friends once but both drifted apart as they built their respective empires. Darian always sensed envy from Simon, because he started the game a week before Simon and the land that was now Barul was his, and always would be prime real estate in Half-World. He got it first and Simon was butt-hurt over it. But that was so last year. The game had changed since then and if he still had beef with Darian, there were ways to do it other than poisoning him. Darian didn’t quite buy it, but he felt that an interrogation was in order. However, he knew that Simon wouldn’t show up voluntarily.
This was the first time Lord Darian retained Josie’s services. She came highly recommended by the Thieves Guild themselves, and she didn’t need any help from anyone. She prided herself on that. Half-World was still dominated by men, and the assassin’s trade was the worst in these terms. She had to not only prove herself to the rest of them to get in, but she had to endure the boys’ club mentality that swirled through the underbelly of the game. She was better than the best of what they had to offer, and she broke away from the Assassins’ Guild to pick up more lucrative contracts on her own. Why pay the guild dues when the guild couldn’t even give her due credit for her work? She never looked back. Josie’s name began to get tossed around in back-alley whispers whenever someone wanted someone killed for a price.
So when Lord Darian needed to have Simon Endragon escorted, or rather extradited, from his manor in Barclay to Lord Darian’s keep in Barul, he was given Josie’s name. He first thought hiring an assassin to merely bring an alleged traitor before him for some questioning seemed overkill, but then he thought about how an assassin would know how to subdue someone without killing them, if that’s what the employer wanted. Lord Darian didn’t want to kill Simon Endragon, unless he should be found guilty of having attempted to poison him.
Josie entered Lord Darian’s hall. He sat upon his throne, which was large and wooden. Lord Darian’s large frame filled the seat, which had plush cushions the color of cherry blossoms, and gold rivets that lined the edges of the throne. Aside from that, it was an otherwise unadorned throne. Darian’s robes were made from the thick hide of a carnese, a large cat-like creature that roamed the nearby forests. This one was a gift from one of his subjects, who turned the skins and pelts into a gorgeous set of clothes.
Lord Darian chose only to wear the coat, as he enjoyed the soft fur, which was a golden brown with bright gold rings and flecks of white. It contoured his body and was comfortable to wear on most days. It also kept him warm in his hall when the weather outside was bitter. He was currently comfortable on his throne.
“JosiePussycat16?” Lord Darian presumed.
“Yes,” she responded, nodding her head. “What can I do for you?”
“I need you to bring someone to me.”
“Who, when, and where?” she rattled off.
“Excuse me?” said Darian, confused.
“Who is my target? When do you want it done? And where do I find them?” she responded matter-of-factly.
“His name is Simon Endragon. He is a lord in Barclay, not far from here. And if you can bring him here tonight, I’ll pay you double.”
“Done,” she said, effectively beginning her contract with Lord Darian. With that, she turned and left the hall.
Lord Darian looked pleased. “Thank you.”
Barclay was lit up in celebration. Cheers came from behind the town walls, whose gates were wide open. Players could freely come and go, join in the festivities, or simply go about their business as usual. Some of the festival-goers carried effigies of the Elementals—Earth, Fire, Wind, and Water, and burned each one on a giant pyre in the town square. This was to signal the start of the harvest solstice. Barclay provided many crops to the denizens of Half-World, and this ceremonial burning during the festival was thought to bring good luck to the harvest.
Josie wandered through the festival crowd as she kept an eye out for Simon Endragon, who she couldn’t see from her vantage point. She also kept her eyes peeled for any guards that might find her suspicious. There were a handful of guards posted up near the manor, but nothing she couldn’t handle. Josie was a master lock-pick and could infiltrate almost any building undetected. It was those skill sets that got Josie in with the Thieves Guild to begin with. She could open a triple-lock safe in under a minute, and proved it when she walked out of Regent Halstrom of Noriat’s prized vault with just under three million in gold. But she gave up thieving because she liked the thrill of being an assassin. Plus, she was even better at it.
She already knew who Simon Endragon was, and she knew just where to find him. She rented a Carnacian mount, which resembled a giant flightless bird. It was outfitted with a harness and saddle, and when the creature stood up, it was nearly ten feet tall. Josie slipped into the saddle and grabbed the reins.
She paid the handler, and the mount hobbled for a moment before getting its footing. Then, it shot off into the night. Josie clung to the reins as the mount hurtled along, its long strides covered ground in no time, and before she knew it, they’d arrived in Barclay.
The town was somewhat sleepy at night, save for the Denmoor, the largest tavern in Barclay. This is where many of the town’s elite, like Simon Endragon, spent their evenings.
The tavern was always filled with drinks and laughter, and tonight was no different. Josie could hear the raucous crowd inside as she tied off her mount.
Inside, she blended in at the bar. The barkeep sent her a chalice of wine, which she sipped as she scanned the room for Simon.
There were many influential players in the room, most of them playing whatever mini-games they enjoyed (this was an entirely different mechanic of the game; some players were devoted to only the mini-games.) Then, Josie heard Simon’s voice—nasally and boisterous. He cackled at someone’s joke. His gregariousness preceded him, and that made him an easy target.
Josie drank by herself at a table in the corner. For a couple of hours, she watched and waited for Simon to leave the tavern. Finally, he tipped the barmaid and stumbled out of the tavern and into the street with his friends. Josie waited inside, but made sure not to lose sight of him.
He said goodnight to his friends and headed off to his manor. He was flanked by two bodyguards. Josie ran to the rear exit and crouched in the shadows as the trio walked toward the alley behind the tavern.
Josie remained hidden in the shadows as they walked past. Simon suddenly stopped in his tracks. He put his arms out to stop the guards. He put a finger to his lips. “Shhh, did you hear something?”
The guards both shook their heads. “Perhaps it’s the alcohol, sir,” the one guard said. Simon did not look amused.
“C’mon, I’m tired,” said Simon. He continued staggering. Just as his guards turned to follow him, Josie snuck from the shadows and stabbed both of them in the back. She was so silent, all you heard was their bodies slump to the ground. Of course, Simon was inebriated and couldn’t hear that well. Suddenly, everything went black for Simon.
Josie had cracked him across the back of his head with her sword hilt. Then she tied his hands and carried him back to her mount. She slung Simon over the saddle, and walked with the giant bird creature back to Barul. The trek took the remainder of the night, but they arrived just before sunrise.
By the time Simon awoke, he found himself shackled to a chair. The room he was in was a barren cell. “Let me out of here! I’ll have your head, whoever is my captor!”
He heard the key turn and the cell door opened behind him.
“Whoever you are, I’ll never forget this,” Simon threatened.
Darian took a seat across from Simon. “Hello, Simon.”
“Darian?” Simon said, confused. “What are you doing here?”
“This is my dungeon.”
“Okay, so why am I here? I’ve done nothing to you.”
Darian snapped his fingers. His guards brought in the body of the servant boy that tried to deliver the poison wine to him. The corpse was now bloated and smelled rotten.
“Do you know this servant boy, Simon? I’ve been told he’s one of yours.”
“I don’t know him. You can check my stables, I have all my servants.”
“Don’t make me get nasty, Simon. Please?” Darian looked Simon in the eyes. “This is your last chance, Simon. I can tell if you’re lying, so don’t, or your fate will be even worse.”
Simon started to tear up. “Darian, we’ve been friends for a long time. Whatever it is you think I’ve done, you’re wrong. What do you think happened?”
“You tried to have me poisoned!” Darian shouted.
“What nonsense!” Simon exclaimed. “Why would I try to kill you, when our towns are symbiotic? We need each other to thrive. I know that, and you know that. Now let me out of here.”
“But if I’m out of the way, then you can swoop in to take over. You want to rule Barclay and Barul. Not if I have anything to do about it,” Darian said wild-eyed.
There would be no talking sense to him. He had already made up his mind that it was Simon who tried to have him murdered. Simon relinquished and slumped back in his chair. “Are you going to have me killed? That is the punishment for treason, isn’t it?”
“I’m not going to kill you…yet,” said Darian. “Not until I’ve discovered the true culprit, whether or not it’s you, Simon.”
“Let me help you, my friend,” Simon pleaded.
“No, you’ll stay here in the dungeon until I say otherwise.”
Lord Darian left the cell. Simon could do nothing to persuade his old friend that he’d made a mistake.
Lord Darian met with Josie in the main hall. He wanted to pay her in-person. He dropped a small purse of 500 gold pieces onto the table where Josie sat eating a nice, warm bowl of madchuk stew. Barul had some of the best in all of Half-World, at least this side of the sea.
She scraped the purse across the tabletop and added it to her satchel.
“You don’t want to count it?” Darian asked.
“I trust you, Lord Darian. Or I should say that I trust you know what happens to anyone who cheats someone in the Assassins’ Guild,” she responded coldly.
Lord Darian wiped his brow and puffed on his pipe. “So that’s all?”
“Unless you have another task for me, we’re finished here,” she said. She drained the rest of her stew and tore off a piece of bread to take with her.
XIV
It was Darkwind’s turn to take watch on the ship. It was the dead of night and the sea had an eerie calm about it, and Darkwind didn’t like it.
Max slept soundly below deck. Josie, Nurox, Rolfon, and the couple of crew mates also rested. After escaping the storm and narrowly missing death, the calm was unexpected but welcome.
Darkwind gazed up at the stars, whose constellations looked down over Half-World. The twinkling lights were omnipresent, and over the open sea, you couldn’t get a better view. Darkwind soaked in all of its primordial beauty.
He pondered his next steps and the fate that awaited him. The next few hours were uneventful.
Rolfon and his crew awoke at first light. They relieved Darkwind, who could only think about food at this point. Breakfast would be ready soon, as Nurox handled it. Apples and elderberries with cheese, bread, and bacon.
Darkwind fed Max small nibbles of food, and she licked up the crumbs that littered the floor.
“Land ho, Captain!” one of the crew called out.
Rolfon got up from the table and ran out onto deck. The others followed him.
“Is that where we’re going?” asked Nurox.
Rolfon grabbed his spyglass and peered at the dot of land in the distance. “Aye, that’s where we’re headed.”
“That’s Yorub’s secret island,” Josie said. “I’ve been here before.”
The ship approached the island and docked just offshore. Rolfon provided them with a small rowboat to get them to shore.
“I’ll give you two days. After that, we set sail back to Barul. With or without you,” he told them before bidding them good luck.
Nurox took the oars and rowed to the island. Josie was not expecting a warm welcome from Yorub, who sat in his tower at the center of the island. The wind demon was particularly strong here because he could feed off the winds. It would be especially dangerous to fight him here, but Josie knew it was now or never.
Yorub was an Elemental, which meant that he could command all the powers of his element, that of wind. His powers would overwhelm most players, but between Darkwind, Josie, and Nurox, they stood more than just a chance.
Darkwind wasn’t afraid. In fact, he was getting bored with all this traveling. Helga was thirsty and he wanted to meet this Yorub and take care of business so that he could get back to his own quest. He was tired of fighting other people’s battles for them. He regretted accepting the Regent’s help that time, because now he was on the hook, and was stuck gallivanting around Half-World with these fools that he would never hang around if it were a different situation. They left the boat on the beach and trekked into the jungle that surrounded Yorub’s tower.
The jungle air was as thick as the dense mass of foliage that engulfed them. Each of them drew their blades and hacked away. They cl
eared a wide path, disturbing any small creatures that were within earshot of the party. Josie wasn’t worried about disturbing the wildlife; she was worried that the wildlife would devour them.
“Keep your eyes open for any large vines, the size of tree trunks,” she told the other two. “If you see them, whatever you do, don’t touch them.”
“Poisonous?” inquired Nurox.
“No, they’re not exactly a plant. It’s some strange creature that blends in with the plants and trees. It hides in the canopy. The large vines are its tentacles, and they’ll crush you into goo and absorb your flesh and bone. It’s not very pretty.”
Nurox made a face of disgust and fear. “You’ve seen it happen before?”
“Yeah, the first time I came to this island. This was before I knew about Yorub. I was on an expedition that brought us here. One of my crew mates ventured off the trail we were making. We heard a scream and went to check it out. We saw these tentacles writhing in the trees, and one of them had grabbed him. We watched this thing crush him like a grape. It was awful. Then, it reeled him up into the canopy and he was gone. We ran like hell and stayed close the rest of the expedition.”
“Great, now you’ve made me paranoid about any vines,” said Darkwind.
“The mighty Darkwind feeling a bit of fear?” jibed Nurox.
“You could say that,” replied Darkwind. “I don’t exactly like the idea of being crushed and eaten by some kinda plant monster.”
“There’s nothing wrong with admitting that you’re scared. Believe me, if you were caught by that thing, you’d scream in terror, too,” Josie reassured them both.
They continued hacking through the dense underbrush until they came to a clearing. There was a small watering hole that the group took advantage of. They rinsed their hands and faces, and refilled their flagons. Darkwind guzzled his water down and refilled his a second time.
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