by Terry Schott
“Of course.” Olin looked at the ground. “That makes more sense. I’m sorry.”
Ezref sighed. “Listen, if it’s so important, then of course you’re welcome to wait. He will be available in a few days. I’m sure he will be even more interested in you than you have been in him” A thought seemed to occur to him as his eyes brightened. “As a matter of fact, there are some extremely unpleasant chores that need doing around the tower. He has been cursing me for my lack of skill in certain areas. He can delegate the work to you.” Ezref’s expression became cruel, sneering. “Oh yes, please tell me you’re willing to wait. He has been extremely kind to you as custom dictates, but now that you returned of your own free will it is within his rights to order service in lieu of payment for the help he gave you before.”
“No.” Olin felt a sharp twist in his stomach and he took a step backward. His time as an apprentice was not so long ago that he’d forgotten the horrible things which could be demanded from a more senior crafter should the need prove sufficient. “I’m afraid that I can’t stay.”
“What a surprise.”
“I only wanted to return the unused components, as thanks for your master’s generosity.”
Ezref stuck his hand through the doorway and accepted the pouch. Then he squinted, as if considering something. “Perhaps I should compel you on behalf of my Master to stay. There is a patch of night bloom that will require dedicating soon.”
Olin’s mouth felt suddenly dry. Assisting a dark master dedicate night bloom was painful. Sometimes the helper even died.
Without saying a word, he turned and strode away as quickly as he could without breaking into a run.
Ezref watched the man until he was outside of the protective wards surrounding the tower. Then he closed the door.
33
Blades VR is thrilled to announce the introduction of a brand new playable class, the Scout.
It is our hope that the Scout class will add new levels of excitement and realism to the virtual world for players.
Live during beta phase of game development, Scouts will initially be played only by NPCs. We will use this opportunity to create game lore, expose players to the class in limited ways, and work out any bugs from the programming before players get access.
If all goes well, our intention is to make the Scout class available during the second half of beta testing.
Once gamers truly understand the power and potential involved, we are confident that Scouts will be a class which many players will choose and spend considerable time playing.
Isaac Chase, CEO of ARC Gaming
A flicker of movement through the glass walls of his office pulled Isaac’s attention away from his monitor. He watched Kara approach the receptionist and wait until the older woman looked up. The two spoke and Kara nodded, looking toward the window. She noticed Isaac watching her and smiled.
He arched one eyebrow and motioned for her to enter.
She poked her head through the door. “Hey, Boss, got a quick sec?”
“Does it matter?”
“Nope.” She entered the room, grabbed a chair near the wall, and pulled it over to his desk.
“What’s the problem?”
She plopped down into her seat with a sigh. “Am I that easy to read?”
He laughed. “Impromptu visits almost always equal problems.”
“That’s gotta suck.”
He grunted. “My own fault. I tell everyone that victories and celebrations can wait for the daily team meetings, but emergencies must be brought to me as soon as they happen.”
She smiled. “You look tired.”
“Stop.”
“What?”
He shook his head. “We aren’t dating anymore, Kara.”
“I know, but I can still be—”
“No.”
“Isaac, I worry about you.”
“Please don’t.”
Her lips pursed but she did not speak.
“We’ve talked about this. It’s neither of our faults that things didn’t work out. The timing was bad.”
“Yeah.” Her eyes were glassy.
“The virtual reality platform was about to enter beta testing. We both knew what that would mean. I won’t have a life for the next—” He ran fingers through his hair. “However many years it takes to get this thing into full production. It takes us five or six years to create a PC game. There’s so much more to this.”
“I know the business, Isaac.”
He paused. “It wouldn’t have been fair to you. You could have a husband, kids, by the time this project is running smoothly enough for me to pay attention to the real world again.”
“None of that interests me.” Her eyes narrowed. “I told you—”
“I heard what you said, but things can change. I wasn’t going to ask you for that kind of commitment.” Isaac shook his head slowly from side to side. “To expect you to put your life on hold, I don’t want that on my conscience.”
Kara looked away, her expression as sad as it had been the night he’d broken up with her.
He sighed. “You didn’t come here to talk about the past, did you?”
She wiped a tear from her eye and shook her head. “No. There’s a problem.”
He leaned back in his chair. “What is it?”
“We have a player who might become a Scout.”
His eyebrows dipped. “That’s impossible.”
“It’s supposed to be.”
He sat forward and placed his hands on the keyboard. “What’s the player’s name?”
“Aleron.”
“Last name? Actually, never mind. There’s only one Aleron in beta test.” His eyes scanned back and forth across the screen. “He’s listed here as a druid.”
“Keep reading.”
He did. A few seconds later he frowned. “Oh, damn.”
“Yeah.”
“This says he isn’t a full Scout, only pre-selected.”
“Once they begin training, his status will change to Scout.”
Isaac pushed the keyboard away and swivelled to face her. “I think we’re fine.”
“How do you figure?”
“I’m guessing that it’s just a clever story line to introduce him to the new class.”
“I disagree.”
“The system is creative. There are millions of possible combinations when it comes to scripts and evolution of story for player interaction. We’ve promised each player unique experiences. I think that’s what this is. Nothing more.”
“I’ve looked into this a bit deeper.”
“Which is what I pay you for.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Scouts hear trumpets. He heard trumpets.”
Isaac laughed.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing.”
“Tell me.”
“When I was a kid we did this thinking experiment in school. I can’t remember the point, but it went like this: all fire trucks are red. There is a picture of a truck. It is red. Since all fire trucks are red, and that’s a red truck, then it must be a fire truck.”
“What does that have to do with what I’m telling you?”
“You’re making a big leap in logic with very little to go on, Kara.”
“I don’t think so.”
“It could also fit with my theory.” He spread his hands. “The computer is ready to have him meet a Scout. He hears trumpets and those around him take that as a sign to get him to a Scout.”
“Maybe. They are heading toward one now.”
“There you go. We’ve made it impossible for players to become Scouts.”
“I’m aware of that. I thought it might be a glitch.”
He smiled. “You weren’t wrong to bring this to me. If there is one thing we do not want at this point in testing, it is for someone to open up the new class and start playing as a Scout.”
“You’re right.”
“Here’s why it can’t happen. The codes which will facilitate i
ntegration of a player’s abilities in the Scout class aren’t even programmed into the simulation yet.”
“I didn’t know that.”
Isaac made a waving motion with his hand. “It’s a small detail not worth mentioning to most.”
The little lines on her forehead disappeared and she smiled. “All right. Sorry to bring you a false alarm.”
“No need to be. I say it’s better to say something and have it be nothing than to ignore a potential disaster.”
She stood and walked to the door, pausing with her hand on the handle. “What about Xander? Any luck finding him?”
“No. How about Sebastian?”
She shook her head.
“It’s frustrating to see how easily we can lose people in there.”
“It shouldn’t be possible at all. Each avatar has its own energy signature.”
Isaac sighed. “There are bugs to fix. That’s why we do a beta testing period.”
“Yeah.”
“Keep an eye on this druid for me, will you?”
Kara opened the door. “Of course.”
34
Mercy strode down the hall, her boots striking the stone floor with a clicking sound as she approached a large wooden door. The guard saluted and bowed, stepping to one side. “He waits for you inside, Lady.”
“Thank you.” She reached out to touch the man’s shoulder as she moved past. To those who worshipped the Darkness, the goddess was the only one referred to as Lady. Yet over the years, as she had proven herself in both battle and leadership, some had begun calling Mercy by the title, whispering it when no one with authority could hear.
The Shard stood on the terrace, mist from his breath visible in the cold morning air. Mercy joined him and looked out below. The front gates were opening to admit Xander. The young squire walked with head held high, freshly polished sword hilts gleaming darkly over his shoulders and the sack full of corpse rat heads swinging in his left hand.
“Took you long enough.” The Shard leaned on the railing of the terrace as he watched Xander.
“Your orders were to follow the boy, not act as his personal guide.”
“How many times did you have to intervene to save his life?”
“None.”
The Shard’s eyes slid to hers, then he nodded and his gaze returned to the courtyard. “I am mildly impressed to hear that.”
“Thought I might have to get involved when the Lightbringer challenged him to a duel.”
The Shard’s laughter came out as a soft, velvety sound. “He was blessed to encounter a paladin of the Light during his spirit quest? Must have been a poorly trained adversary if our fledgling managed to defeat him.”
“Must have been.”
“And he has all of the rat heads?”
“In the bag.” Squires and Death Strykers had stopped what they were doing to gather near Xander, curious expressions on the faces of the younger boys and girls, knowing smirks on those of the veterans. “Are you certain about this course of action?”
The Shard spoke without hesitation. “Absolutely. The experience will teach him much.”
“If he survives.”
“The path to becoming a Death Stryker is filled with danger.”
“You are making his more dangerous than most.”
“Fire, water, and the hammer create the blade.”
“When each is applied properly by the master smith.”
He dipped his head in a slow nod.
Mercy grunted. “You don’t intend for him to succeed.”
His eyes were bright. “My intentions are irrelevant, Mercy. It is the Dark Lady who ultimately decides.”
She grimaced.
“You have something to say?”
“No.”
He turned away from the ledge and walked toward his chambers. “Then let us go down to welcome our new brother in Darkness.”
***
As Xander stood in the centre of the courtyard, he scanned the faces in the crowd. Memories from his avatar recognized some, but he could not recall having any friends here.
No one spoke to him. The odd individual nudged a neighbour and said something, but he couldn’t make out was being said.
There was a stirring near the main keep and the crowd parted to reveal a tall, muscular man with pale skin and sharp angular features approaching. Xander’s memory recognized him as the Shard, leader of this chapter of Death Strykers. His clothes were rich and black, the material catching the light and almost shining with a light of its own as he moved. He stopped a few feet from Xander and spread his arms. His smile exposed perfect white teeth, reminding Xander of a panther about to pounce. He wanted to shudder, but fought it off.
“Brothers and sisters, a young spirit has returned.” He lowered his hands and took another step forward, looking Xander up and down with a serious expression. He tilted his head to one side. His smile disappeared. “Something is wrong.”
Xander’s expression mirrored the Shard’s. “What?”
“You have returned without completing your quest.”
A murmur drifted through the onlookers.
“I completed it.” Xander touched the bag with his toe. “A dozen corpse rat heads, as instructed.”
The murmuring of the crowd rose in volume.
The Shard raised a hand and the crowd fell silent. He bent down and opened the bag. Gripping the edge, he stood and turned it upside down, staring at Xander with a flat expression as a dozen corpse rat heads thudded onto the ground.
“That’s impossible!” someone shouted.
“He did not do that on his own.”
“He insults the Dark Lady with his dishonesty!” another voice yelled.
The ring of people tightened. Xander looked around him with a frown. “What’s wrong? This is what I was told to do.”
A loud whistle pierced the chaos. The mob hushed and parted, allowing Mercy to emerge from the throng, almost gliding as she moved to stand beside the Shard. His eyes met hers, nodding before looking back to Xander. “You were told not to return until you had killed and collected twelve corpse rat heads. The instructions were clear. You were to kill them yourself, without any assistance.”
Again, there were shouts from the crowd. Xander felt his cheeks grow warm. “I did kill them.” He was shaking as he almost spat the words.
“Without one managing to give you even a scratch?”
“I got plenty of scratches.” He reached for the bottom of his tunic. “Bites too.” He almost yanked the shirt up but his eyes widened and he paused.
The Shard’s eyes narrowed. “Yes. Show us your wounds.”
Xander’s hand dropped to his side.
“Well?” The Shard raised one eyebrow.
“I was healed.” He lowered his gaze.
“You were what?”
He clenched his jaw and spoke loud enough for everyone to hear. “I said that I was healed.”
No one spoke. The Shard nodded. “The Dark Lady favours you indeed if she deigned to heal you. Without her intervention, you would have died.”
“I believe that.” Xander pulled his shirt up and touched a spot that had been torn open by a rat. “The bites might be gone, but I can still feel them, the hotness of the tears in my flesh, the poison coursing through my blood.”
The Shard stepped forward and placed a hand on Xander’s shoulder. “No one has ever returned with the full number.”
“They haven’t?”
“No. That is not the actual purpose of the trial.”
“What is it then?”
“To be bitten and meet death.” The Shard’s voice was calm. “To travel to death’s door and look through to the other side. The bites will not kill you. The rats have the unique ability to take one as close as a person can come to dying, yet allow most to recover and live.”
“I didn’t know.”
“Of course not.”
Xander frowned. “Without any wounds or scars, I have no proof the rats bit me. No way
for you to know that I was close to death.”
“That’s true. And we must be certain you have if you ever hope to become a Death Stryker.”
“I don’t know how to prove that I am telling the truth.”
The Shard tightened his grip on Xander’s shoulder. Xander gasped and looked up into the leader’s face. The man’s eyes were bright and wild, his smile cruel. “There is a different test, one rarely used, but it will show if you are lying or not.”
A voice inside of Xander screamed for him to flee, to run from the keep as fast as he could and never return, but he took a deep breath and nodded. “Then test me. I will prove that I am worthy to become a Death Stryker.”
35
Shale heard the footsteps approaching but didn’t open her eyes until she sensed a shadow blocking the sunlight. “Took you long enough.”
Lelthaes laughed and sat on the ground beside her. “I’m early. We don’t have to report in until noon, which is still far away.”
She squinted at the sun directly overhead. “Oh yeah, you made it with plenty of time to spare.”
“Not my fault. The family wouldn’t let me go.”
“Mine couldn’t wait to part ways.”
Lelthaes snorted. “I find that hard to believe, especially your dad. He didn’t want you to become a ranger in the first place.”
Shale smiled and closed her eyes, arms still behind her head as she soaked up the sun. “Yeah, he was kinda proud of me.”
“Ha! My mother says that your dad has been bragging about you non-stop since you left. Then when they found out what level you reached during training—”
“It’s only single digits.”
“You hit the highest level of any ranger trainee in decades.”
“So did you.”
He laughed. “Not quite as high as you, though.”
“We both did fairly well.”
“I nailed level five and you just squeaked into six. Fairly well is an understatement.”
“I don’t know.” She sat up and groaned. “All those new skills and spells to learn. Seems like a pain.”
He sat up on one elbow and stared at her. She laughed and shoved him playfully and he laughed as well. Then he stopped and furrowed his brows, looking around. “It’s definitely past noon. Shouldn’t the rest of the troop be here by now?”