Exalted Realms Online- Harbinger of Chaos

by Jamie O'Leary

  Max whimpered.

  “C’mon, stop it,” Darkwind said. “They can handle their own quest without me.”

  Max stood on his shoulder and stared back at the group, his eyes full of sadness. Or were they really?

  Darkwind hesitated for a moment. This pet would be the end of him.

  “We’re going to the city,” said Darkwind, finally, to the rest of the group. “I need to get to Gonquist’s in Mevalon. And after that, maybe I’ll help.”

  Gonquist’s was a library that had old books and maps filled with legends and other songs and records of Half-World. It was the place to go if you wanted to search for clues in your quests. The library at Gonquist’s was huge and you could spend a lifetime scouring the contents under its roof.

  The sun was going to be setting soon, and Darkwind was tired and didn’t feel like taking on any monsters left roaming the roads at night.

  He picked up his pace, leaving the others behind without a chance to answer back. Max jumped down and ran beside him. They trotted into Mevalon just as twilight was beginning.

  XVII

  The chest crumpled under Kalgar’s hammer, releasing a putrid stench that burned the eyes and nostrils of every man that could see the treasure, which sat at the bottom of the chest in some black slime that seemed to gurgle. Kalgar went to reach in for the shiny trinket, but Boricel grabbed his arm and pulled him back at the last moment. “What are you doing?” Kalgar snapped.

  “Don’t touch it,” Boricel whispered in fear. “Look.”

  Boricel grabbed a rat that scurried past his feet and dropped it into the chest. The black slime engulfed the rat, whose cries shrieked out in the cavern until the slime drowned its last whimpers. The slime grew larger and splashed over the sides of the chest. It leaped out of the chest and wrapped itself around Kalgar’s head.

  The large man flailed around in a panic until he fell to the floor and the slime oozed away even larger now, having dissolved Kalgar’s head from his shoulders. The rest of the men scattered, fleeing in terror.

  Boricel stood frozen in shock as the slime reared around, sensing his fear. He held up his sword and let out his fiercest battle cry, which quickly turned into a cry for help. He, too, was absorbed by the slime, which crept through the cavern, soaking up every creature in its path, growing larger all the time.

  All the remaining cavern creatures escaped as the slime made its way to the cave entrance, where it laid a trap for unsuspecting travelers.

  ***

  It had been ages since anyone opened the books Darkwind now pored over. The librarians were likely unaware they even existed, considering the sheer size of the library’s halls.

  The pages of Drengor’s Histories of Half-World, Volume Thirty-seven were dusty and torn from centuries of use. Darkwind carefully thumbed through it, searching for anything that could put him back on the path towards the God of Chaos. He finally came upon a passage that read:

  IN THE DARKNESS YOU WILL FIND,

  THE BELOVED DEVIL IN YOUR MIND,

  COME SERVE THE DARKNESS,

  COME SERVE THE CHAOS,

  WITH BLOOD ON HANDS,

  MAKE THE FINAL SACRIFICE.

  Darkwind scrawled the passage onto a piece of parchment and took it with him. He cross-referenced some of his findings with other books, including Sacrilege Against the Gods: Worshipping the God of Chaos, Chaos and You: A Foray Into Chaotic Evil, and Summoning Your Spirit of Chaos.

  Max was getting annoying, but to be fair, he was hungry and deermats constantly needed to eat because of their extremely high metabolism. “Just a little longer, pal, and we’ll get some food,” Darkwind reassured him.

  Darkwind found some more clues when he was looking at the maps of several dungeons. These were all over the world and it was going to be difficult to find the one he needed. The maps were mostly guides for treasure hunters, grave robbers, and the like. He pored over more maps until finally Max had enough. It was time to eat.

  He took what info he had, scooped Max up, and headed to the tavern. He hoped that they still had the chicken special.

  At the tavern, he found the rest of the group waiting for him. So they were really ready to go to great lengths to ensure he would stay with their party. He sat down at their table, without saying a word, and started scarfing down his chicken and potatoes, washing it down with some elderberry wine. Meanwhile, Nurox studied a map he too looked to have borrowed from a trip to the library. Had they been following him there as well? It was an old map of Half-World that showed where the final crests were kept. They had two of the four, and were now ready to seek the Earth and Water Crests. It was far to the south in the ancient Tower of Pearl, which rose up from the depths of Lake Baijer. “I found them,” he exclaimed. “The Earth Crest is in dwarf kingdom of Cassia. We should go there next.”

  Josie examined the two crests in her possession. She ran her fingers over their stone features. As she examined them, she discovered that while these two pieces didn’t fit together, they would be able to connect them with the next crest. The fire crest had a flame etching on its face, surrounded by several runes, all of which glowed a faint red. The earth crest was adorned with a drawing of a tree and some runes that gave off a green aura.

  Chezzy sat meditating. He needed to replenish his spiritual energy if he was going to be able to use his magic. “We should stay the night and get some rest before we head south,” he said matter-of-factly without breaking his concentration.

  “Agreed,” Josie said. She put the crests back in her bag.

  Suddenly, the tavern door swung open and two men ran to the barkeep. “Help us! Please, our friends!” they began. They were clearly in shock.

  Josie jumped up and ran over to them.

  “Josie, don’t get involved,” said Darkwind, still not sure what his next move would be.

  She ignored him and moved toward the bar. She grabbed one of the men and spun him around. “What happened to you and your friends?”

  “It was, it was awful,” he stammered.

  The barkeep sat the men down and gave them some potatoes and water. After the meal, they were calm enough to explain what happened:

  “My name is Igolas and this is Poro. We joined my friend Kalgar’s party to go hunting for the treasures in the Cassian caves, but we accidentally released a creature that killed our friends. We ran for help and ended up here. Can you help us find our friends if they’re still alive?”

  “If they are, I’ll find them,” a voice chimed in from the other side of the tavern. Darkwind’s ears perked up. He knew that voice. It was Zanzibarber. That bastard.

  All eyes turned onto Zanzibarber. “I know the Cassian caves and can tell you that if your friends are alive, I’ll find them for a cut of the treasure.”

  “Don’t listen to this fool,” Darkwind interrupted. Zanzibarber’s eyes grew wide with horror.

  “D-D-Darkwind?”

  “The one and only, you turd,” Darkwind replied. “You look good, Barbie. The last time I saw you, your head was not so attached to your body.”

  Zanzibarber fumed.

  “You two know each other?” Josie inquired.

  “Yeah, unfortunately,” said Darkwind. “This is Zanzibarber, part-time wannabe mercenary and full-time shitlord. He’s been trying to kill me since forever, but he sucks so bad that he couldn’t even take me out with hundreds of his buddies. He’s what we call a real l-o-s-e-r.”

  Zanzibarber’s face turned beet red. He despised that he let himself get so worked up over Darkwind and his remarks, because he knew it played directly into Darkwind’s hand, which he perceived as even worse than dying a thousand deaths by his blade. Zanzibarber had resigned himself to the fact that he was never going to be able to best Darkwind in battle, and his inability to do so only fueled his resentment for his nemesis.

  “Do you want to challenge me again, Barbie?”

  “Yes, but not to a battle. I think I can save these men�
��s friends before you can. If I do, then you have to agree that you’ll leave me alone in-game. And if I lose—”

  “If you lose, you leave the game. Permanently.”

  Zanzibarber hesitated. This would be his biggest gamble yet. “Okay, deal.”

  XVIII

  Daemeon Cole was getting fed up with the game. She was taking a break today since she woke up with a fever and the chills. Could be that flu that's going around her apartment complex. These dank, small spaces were breeding grounds for infection. Daemeon drank some warm tea and stared at her computer screen, reading windows of text scrolling past almost incomprehensibly. She was always able to read fast, her eyes darted rapidly back and forth as she took in the information.

  Then, Daemeon came across one thread that made mention of the God of Chaos. This was the first time she saw this. There also appeared to be something hidden in the message. The post was anonymously made months ago, and whoever posted it made sure to include a set of in-game runes that could be translated. Daemeon grabbed the runes from the post and would begin working on the translation in-game. This could be the answer she’d been looking for all this time. But then, why would anyone leave such valuable hints behind? Maybe it was just another trap made by those noobs dreaming of offing her character… Only one way to find out.

  Despite feeling under-the-weather, Daemeon decided to suit up and go in-game. She couldn’t wait any longer and her curiosity was getting the better of her. She had to know if she was on the right track. Excited for the challenge against Zanzibarber, she went in-game and met up with the others at the tavern.

  ***

  The tavern was quiet in the early morning. The fog hung in the canopy of the surrounding woods, and the air was brisk. Josie, Nurox, and Chezzy ate some biscuits and gravy for breakfast with Igolas and Poro as Darkwind waited out front for Zanzibarber. Max sat atop his shoulder and sniffed the cool morning air. Chezzy approached Darkwind.

  “Darkwind, the Cassian caves are dangerous. There are many creatures that will eat you alive in those deep places. And beware of Zanzibarber; I’ve heard many things about him. He’s not popular among the mages.”

  “You don’t have to tell me, I’ve been putting up with his rat-soup-eatin’ ass practically since I started playing the game. And those monsters? C’mon, I’m Darkwind. They’ll be lucky if they see anything but the business end of my blade!”

  After a while, Darkwind was almost certain that Zanzibarber wouldn’t show, but then he saw a hooded figure move through the fog in their direction.

  “You actually showed up, Barbie. I’m impressed,” Darkwind teased.

  “I won’t let you win this time, Darkwind,” Zanzibarber sneered.

  Darkwind called to the others. “I’ll meet all of you back here tonight.”

  “Why don’t we all go? It makes more sense,” Nurox reasoned.

  “No,” said Darkwind. “This is between me and Zanzibarber. Here.”

  Darkwind handed Max to Nurox. “Be good, little dude. If he gets hungry, give him an apple.”

  Nurox nodded.

  “Are you ready?” asked Zanzibarber.

  “Let’s go, dickweed,” replied Darkwind.

  They both shot off on foot into the fog.

  The Cassian caves was a network of subterranean ducts that stretched over a thousand leagues, winding underground from the Hybord tundra in the north to Cassia in the west and the well-traveled road to Barul in the south. The caves were carved out by the ancient dwarves thousands of years ago, and were now used by smugglers, thieves, guilds, and cults as a repository for treasure and the dead. Monsters had been living in these caverns since before the recorded history of Half-World, taking the lives of countless unsuspecting travelers that dared to enter the mouth of this cave system that ran under the grand Mount Cassia.

  Cassia was the land of the dwarves, who toiled away in the underground darkness, tunneling under the mountain to carve out their great stone halls. Much of the mountain had been settled by the dwarves. They learned to live with many of the mountain’s indigenous creatures, some of which were dangerous, like the mabarass, the sentient ooze that was responsible for the death of Kalgar and the other friends of Igolas and Poro. It was treasure hunters like these who were typically befallen in the Cassia caves, whether they ran afoul of monsters or simply became lost and were never seen again.

  The dwarves’ mining efforts over the years yielded unheard of treasures of gold, silver, the magical ore iranite, and other metals. The dwarven mines at Cassia were responsible for the raw materials used in everything from building construction to the forging of weapons and armor all over Half-World. Generations ago, the Dwarf King, Sholdor II, excavated the Earth Crest, which gave him the power to command the earthen elements and helped the dwarves to build their kingdom from the depths of the mountain. The dwarves thrived for ages under the keen rule of Sholdor II until the fateful day that dark magic infiltrated the kingdom that brought about the end of the dwarven reign in Cassia.

  The wizard Warung of the Wood conjured a demon to bring him the Earth Crest so that he could increase his own magic. It was disappointing that this conjuration killed their king and stole the artifact needed to sustain their kingdom, but after Sholdor II was killed, the remaining dwarves evacuated the western mines of Cassia when the demon took up residence. They were concerned with survival. Warung not only was responsible for the death of the dwarven king, but he filled his coffers with dwarven treasure once everyone had fled the underground halls. It had been nearly a century since the dwarves were displaced from the caves, but the demon still lurked in the bowels of the mountain. The dwarves never forgot what happened, and they were determined to get the Earth Crest back.

  As Darkwind and Zanzibarber approached the mouth of the cave, they could see the scattered bones of some unlucky fools. Darkwind brandished Helga. Her blade flashed in the sunlight. Zanzibarber readied his fireball magic.

  “After you, Barbie,” said Darkwind, motioning for Zanzibarber to go first.

  “Sure,” he replied warily.

  The cave emitted a foul stench of death that hung in the air, which made Zanzibarber cringe, wanting to vomit. Darkwind couldn’t help but chuckle at Zanzibarber’s discomfort.

  “Shut up,” Zanzibarber said.

  The outside light waned as they entered the cave; the soft ground at the mouth was slippery. Darkwind pulled a torch from his satchel and lit it. The walls of the cave flickered in its warm, amber aglow. The walls were carved directly out of the belly of the mountain. The architecture was stern and rigid, with sharp angles and few embellishments, the hallmark of dwarven engineering. Some of the walls bore the emblems of the various families that once lived these halls. The emblems were accompanied by sets of dwarvish runes, which Darkwind assumed were their family names. He couldn’t read dwarvish though.

  Zanzibarber, however, was well-versed in dwarvish magic. He had used the dwarvish runic alphabet regularly to conjure up incantations that most had forgotten about. He discovered earth-based spells in old tomes that dealt with the old dwarvish magic. Zanzibarber thought if he were to discover Warung’s spellbook in these catacombs, it would be quite a prize, and would cement his sorcery skills, which had grown considerably since the last time he encountered Darkwind. While he seemed to enjoy a rather venerable reputation within the mage community these days, he would always be a shitbird to Darkwind.

  They came to a fork in the corridor. “We split up here,” said Darkwind. “You take the right, I’ll take the left.”

  “What if one of us needs the other?” Zanzibarber asked.

  Darkwind shot him an incredulous look. “Really?”

  He plodded down the left corridor. Zanzibarber conjured a lantern spell and a tiny flame floated out in front of him, illuminating the right corridor.

  Water dripped down the stalactites, whose white bands shimmered in the firelight. Zanzibarber crept through the cavern, admiring the dwarvish archite
cture that was carved out around him. He descended down some steps, his light fading at the end of the stairwell as he entered another chamber.

  Darkwind sauntered down a corridor held up by multiple stone columns. Each one had a different dwarvish poem written in ancient runes carved into the rock. He didn’t read dwarvish. Besides, Darkwind never cared much for dwarvish culture, as they were shackled by their need to unearth the riches buried beneath Half-World, and he didn’t respect the dwarves’ infamously obsessive work ethic. All the dwarves he’d ever met treated him with indifference, never ones to go out of their way to be hospitable. No wonder they’re all gone. Dwarves never made alliances and therefore had no friends to help them when Warung’s demon took over the Halls of Sholdor.

  Some unlit torches hung on the walls. Darkwind walked past each one and began lighting up the entire hall. The corridor stretched out before him, still dark, awaiting his torch to grace the remainder of the hall. Something was scrawled across one wall in blood. Again, Darkwind couldn’t make it out, but it looked like the desperate last words of one of the dwarves that tried to escape. The skeletal remains of a dwarf, clad in armor and holding a short spear, laid against the wall beneath the writing. Darkwind expected to find a lot of corpses the deeper he went. He pressed on, curious if he would actually find the missing men. So far the chambers were all empty, devoid of any treasure or bodies. He wondered if his mage nemesis had found anything yet.

  ***

  Zanzibarber examined one of the chamber walls. Its craggy rock face looked out of place among the rest of the walls, which had been sculpted from the rock. It was as if they were run off by something. Zanzibarber suddenly felt uneasy. There was something else in this room with him. He couldn’t see it yet, but he’d sensed it ever since they entered the cave.

  The walls were slick with ooze, like the walls were crying. Zanzibarber ran his hand across the wall, searching for a fulcrum or something indicating a secret passage. There was nothing except the ooze. It was clear and thick, like snot. Zanzibarber flung the goop from his hand before wiping the rest of it on his mage’s cloak. So gross!