“Okay then,” Devon said as she stepped into a beam of sunlight that fell through the temple’s vault. She brought her sun-cast Shadow Puppet to life, then formed it into a set of narrow blades that she wedged into cracks in the stone ceiling at the temple’s main entrance. Next, she cast Fade on herself and sat back to wait.
The players entered in a flash of light, first the cleric, then the warrior. As soon as they stood, Devon cast Freeze on her shadow, encasing the thin blades in ice. She quickly followed with a Flamestrike targeting the roof.
“Freeze-thaw cycle. Thank you, high school geology,” she muttered as the tunnel entrance collapsed, blocks loosened just enough by the expansion of ice in the cracks. The players yelled and backed away from the falling stone and dust just as Hezbek ran into the room.
The players whirled, the warrior drawing his sword.
“Oh no!” Hezbek yelled, “Escape has been cut off! The spider lord comes! Wait, who are you—”
“Uh, who are you?” The warrior asked, lowering his blade slightly.
Hezbek glanced over her shoulder as if terrified of something in the main chamber. “I am a medicine woman of the Uruquat tribe. My companion and I have come to cleanse these halls.”
“Dude, she’s an NPC.” The cleric said, his eyes on the spider corpses.
Hezbek backed away from the temple’s main chamber. “The spider lord will soon appear. Our acts have summoned his wrath. Will you join us in battle?”
The warrior grinned. “Sweet, an event. And we showed up just in time for the boss fight. Hell yeah, we’ll join.”
Moments later, two names appeared in the group list. Hezbek backed against the rubble of the entrance as Devon took over the plan. She cast another Shadow Puppet, bringing it to life in the temple’s main chamber. Stretching its substance thin, she formed it into the shape of a house-sized spider. With her Ventriloquist ability, she made the thing shriek.
“Holy shit,” the warrior mumbled as he raised his sword.
While the players were distracted, Hezbek had begun casting. Devon heard a thunderclap as her stomach suddenly flew into her throat.
Her feet landed on bare stone, and high-altitude sun lanced her eyes. Devon blinked away tears as the glow of the teleport spell faded. The party was standing on a trail on a high peak overlooking rolling farmland that had to be the Eltera hill country.
“No!” Hezbek cried, clutching at her hair. “Not again! He’s found us unworthy and banished us. Will we ever defeat the spider lord?”
The woman was doing a remarkably good acting job, if a little melodramatic. Devon cast Fade again, stepping into the shadow of a rock outcropping. So far, it seemed the players were so bewildered by the situation they weren’t paying attention to her. She used Ventriloquism and caused a low growl to rise from a cleft in the stone behind the players.
Hezbek’s eyes widened. “Oh no, is that a… cave troll?”
As the players turned, the medicine woman jumped into action. Her hands began to glow, and she dashed forward and clapped the players on the shoulders, resetting their bind points to this location.
Devon almost laughed at how well this was going, but she focused on her ventriloquist act, turning the growl into a roar.
“There’s no choice, we have to run!” Hezbek yelled, turning and dashing the other direction as she kicked the players out of the group. Devon sprinted after her, and they rounded a bend in the trail as Hezbek worked through the motions of another teleport spell. A breath later, Devon's stomach turned over as the spell took hold. She opened her eyes to the dappled shade in the camp.
Then, she started laughing.
Chapter Thirty-Four
“JUST LIKE THE old days,” Devon muttered as she crawled out of bed. Bright sun leaked around the edges of her blackout shades, and she squinted as she pulled the string to open the blinds.
Back when the market for items in Avatharn had been so hot that she hadn’t even needed her day job at the Fort to help pay the bills, she and her guildmates had spent most nights gaming and at least half the days sleeping it off. But once she’d started her shifts in the Wild West, she’d gotten used to seeing the sunshine again. It was nice to be awake when the rest of the world was. But lately, she’d had to stay up late dealing with problems in the game.
She pulled on a pair of yoga pants and switched out her jammie shirt for a tank top before shuffling to the kitchen. As she got the coffee started, she peered into the cabinets in search of breakfast. Her stocks were running low. She yawned, wondering if she should just order grocery delivery. Lots of people found the notion of physically going shopping for food to be kind of quaint, but Devon usually dragged herself down to the store. It had started during her months of scraping by. The practice made it easier to buy discount fruits and veggies without getting a bunch of moldy crap delivered. Now, shopping was one of her only excuses to get out of the apartment.
She poured a bowl of cereal, added milk, and took her coffee to a small table beside a window with a view onto the concrete balcony of the apartment complex. While she ate, she opened her messages. The first was from Tamara.
Hey, where are you? I came by around ten… Ended up with more day-old bagels than I could eat. Knocked for like five minutes, but finally decided you weren’t answering. Busy, huh? Did you take up mountain biking without me? Anyway, drop a line.
Devon rubbed her eyes. She wasn’t usually a sound sleeper. Seemed strange that she’d slept through five minutes of knocking. Maybe Tamara had caught her during one of those deep sleep cycles she’d read about. She sent back a note.
“Sorry, I’m out of town for the mountain bike world cup… Actually, I was sleeping. You don’t have one of those polite little girlie knocks, do you? PS. We should grab tacos again soon.”
Next, there was a note from Emerson.
Hi, Devon. Can you call me when you get a chance? Prefer to talk in real time rather than text. I’m getting my implants adjusted, reach me here instead:
At the end of the message, he’d dropped in a link for an old-fashioned video conference.
Devon grimaced. Video chat? Maybe after she’d had a chance to wake up.
As she slurped the milk out of the cereal bowl, she couldn’t help laughing about the “event” they put on for the players last night. Even though she tried to restrain herself, she finally caved and pulled up the forums. Under a subsection for the Western Reaches and Eltera City, there was a new thread labeled: Jungle event, OMG so lame!!
She snorted as she read the rant from someone with the handle “The_Kr4cken”. The message was loaded with expletives and choice descriptions such as “nothing worth killing” and “stupid ass event that TPs you halfway back to Eltera” and “wasted two days of play time.”
The other player, SenorFrog on the forums, had responded with a similar description.
Just to further dissuade players, Devon made a post as an anonymous user:
Same!!! OMG! Devs on crack or something??
She laughed as she closed the forum window. After a quick shower and change of clothes, she stopped in front of the mirror. She tried combing her hair one way and frowned then grabbed it into a ponytail, pulling out a couple of strands to hang near her face. With a quick look at her profile, she realized what she was doing. Worrying about her hair because she had to call some guy in Arizona…
“So stupid,” she muttered. For good measure, she took her hair back out of the ponytail and messed it up a little bit, tangled strands piling over her shoulders. With a sigh, she grabbed her old tablet and flopped on the couch. She entered Emerson’s contact into the video chat program.
“Oh, hey!” Emerson answered with what seemed like forced casualness.
“Hey, what’s up? What’s going on with your implants? I haven’t used this program since I got mine.”
He shrugged, and a guilty look came over his face. “Actually, nothing. It’s… I didn’t really want to talk over the E
ntwined hardware. I don’t think there are privacy issues, but… you know. Better to be safe.”
Devon didn’t like the sound of this. She blinked as her brows drew together. “Is there a problem? I was hoping you had a solution to the pain thing.”
He shook his head quickly. “No, nothing like that. But the pain thing… I still haven’t been getting any answers, and it’s frustrating. It definitely shouldn’t be happening. I guess I wanted to let you know that it’s okay if you take a couple weeks off while I sort out a solution. I’ll cover for you.”
“Cover for me? As in E Squared—that would be my employer, as you recall—wouldn’t know I was on vacation? Isn’t that some kind of fraud?”
“I was just thinking there’d be no need to draw attention to you taking a little break. If the issue did come up, I’d take all the blame. I am… Well, my equity in the company has set me up all right. Worst case, if something went wrong, I could cover your salary…” He trailed off, clearly realizing that he was straying into creepy territory again.
Devon raised a brow.
“No obligation, of course,” he said, cheeks red with embarrassment.
Devon sighed. The poor guy really wasn’t all that great socially. But that had its own charm, and he did seem to be trying to look out for her.
“You don’t think there’s anything dangerous, do you?”
He bit down on his lower lip while he considered his words. “No… It just bothers me. At the very least, I expected to recruit you for something fun, not torture. I mean it about the time off. I totally understand if you want to hang tight until it’s resolved.”
“Thanks, Emerson. I’ll keep it in mind.”
His mention of the pain had brought back unpleasant memories of the fight with the spiders in the temple. The swarm had surprised her enough that her adrenaline had masked some of the pain. But he was right, she wouldn’t exactly call the combat experience fun—when she got hit anyway.
Fortunately, she didn’t get hit very often. And the truth was, there was so much else going on, she couldn’t afford to take time out. A couple weeks without playing would be more than a month in game. In that time, players would probably show up and attack her tribe, and quite likely, someone would find the relic.
No way was she going to stay logged out and let all that happen.
“Well, let me know,” Emerson said after a moment of awkward silence. “I feel responsible since I recruited you and all.”
“Thanks,” she said. “I will. Anything else you need? Otherwise, I should get to the store. Running out of Cheetos and Jolt Cola.”
He blushed again. “No, that’s it. Thanks for getting back to me.”
“Not a problem.” She reached for the disconnect button but hesitated when Emerson looked like he was going to say something else. After a second though, he nodded, and the connection dropped.
Chapter Thirty-Five
WHEN DEVON LOGGED back in, around a full day had passed in the game. It was midmorning, and even though the tribe members were going about their work, an uncomfortable silence hung over the glade. She understood why when she approached the dwarf camp. Sentries still stood on the border, Dorden among them. Heldi was up and about, but she seemed weak. Devon spotted her sitting on a moss-covered stone near one of the canvas shelters.
“Nice morning, eh, Dorden?” she asked as she walked up.
Hard eyes turned her way. “I suppose,” he said flatly.
“Thank you for maintaining the truce. I see Heldi is feeling better.”
He shrugged. “There’d be nothing left of your tribe if she hadn’t recovered,” he growled.
Devon kept her face still. The little dude wasn’t going to let go of this grudge easily, was he? She stepped closer, arms at her sides in what she hoped was a non-threatening manner.
“The arrow shot was a mistake,” she said, chin raised. “You realize that, right?”
Dorden’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not so sure. I’ve done quite a lot of thinking the past few days. Why did Bayle draw on my wife in the first place?”
“She was reacting to Deld’s injury. The shot came from their backs, and the only people behind them were you two. You can see how she could be confused, right?”
“That’s just it. That first arrow… I know Heldi didn’t shoot it, but there is another archer in your tribe.” His eyes flicked to Grey, who was setting turtle traps in the small stream that gurgled through the camp.
“Grey?” She narrowly avoided laughing. How could she explain that he was a total hippy?
“See, it occurs to me that some of your band might think they’d be better off with some of our weapons. Makes me wonder if your hunter there tried to land an arrow in one of our backs but missed and hit one of his own.”
Devon shook her head, raising her hands to try to cut off this line of conversation. “It wasn’t Grey. I found the culprits. There were a pair of starborn in the jungle.”
“Starborn, huh? And where are these aggressors now?”
She thinned her lips. “They’ve been sent away.”
Dorden crossed his arms over his chest. While they’d been talking, a few more of their fighters had stepped closer, matching glowers on their faces. Devon was starting to feel decidedly outnumbered.
“Surely ye must have some proof of this claim, then? Because it seems rather convenient to blame it on starborn then explain that they’ve been sent away.”
Devon blinked. Proof? She assumed she’d be able to explain everything once the threat had been eliminated, but apparently, she hadn’t counted on dwarven stubbornness or the amount of thinking Dorden had been free to do while his wife was unconscious.
“I didn’t—I suppose I wasn’t considering I’d need to prove anything to you. I was pretty focused on protecting our shared home.”
Dorden snorted. “Your home, ye mean. We’re just hired guards camping at the edge.”
“Your Gloriousness?” Hazel appeared out of a nearby tangle of brush.
“Yes?”
“If it’s proof they need, I may have it.”
Dorden glanced at her with thinly concealed interest. Maybe Devon had misjudged, and it wasn’t stubbornness so much as the desire to be certain he was doing no harm to his clan by trusting her.
The small scout nodded and hurried forward, digging in her belt pouch. She pulled out a small strip of leather with a bronze design fixed to the end.
“What’s that?” Devon asked. She held out her hand and accepted the item.
You have received: Seal of Eltera.
“Seal of Eltera?” she muttered. “I don’t know what this is.”
Hazel shrugged. “I plucked it off the warrior’s belt. You see, I’ve never met a starborn before, except you, Your Gloriousness. I’ve been practicing my Stealth and wanted to test it.”
Devon forced a smile. It was better proof than the whole handful of nothing she had to show Dorden, but she wasn’t sure whether the object would prove there’d been starborn here.
A low growl rumbled in Dorden’s throat. After a moment, he nodded. “Ye may not know what that is, but I do. The governor’s seal.” He shook his head. “That little bronze emblem is the bane of my clan. The governor in Eltera issues those things to every new starborn in the city. Gives them favored trade status. While craftsmen like me and my clan line up outside the city gates with our wagons just hoping for entry, starborn traipse through without a glance and dump their ore and loot for coppers. So I suppose I believe ye, lass. And unfortunately, if the starborn are here, I’ll also be saying my goodbyes.”
Devon gripped the item tight, then dropped it on the ground. “Listen, Dorden. I understand your desire to move on. It might seem that forging on toward the coast will take you farther from Eltera and the starborn masses. But the truth is, more and more starborn will be coming to this world. You can’t fight that. No matter where you go, you’ll find them. But I’m doing what I can to keep them fro
m coming here. At least until we prepare. I’ve talked about founding a community, a city, a kingdom even. And it will start right here. I assure you if you stay, your clan will never go hungry, and you’ll never receive poor treatment for lack of being starborn.
“I can’t force you to do anything, but I can say with complete honesty that I believe your best chance to survive in this changing world is to stay here. Join my tribe, and you’ll be as valued as any members.”
Faint grumbling rose from the dwarves, and Devon wasn’t sure what she’d said wrong. Maybe they just needed a minute to come to terms with reality. Heldi rose, somewhat unsteadily, from her seat on the rock and walked up beside her husband. The proud dwarf woman set her jaw and met Devon’s gaze. “We’ve been known as the Stoneshoulder Clan for generations. How can we forsake our ancestors by suddenly calling ourselves the tribe of… Kumquat was it?”
Devon resisted the urge to smack herself on the forehead. She should have thought more carefully about her words.
“Please accept my apologies. I didn’t mean that at all. In fact, I don’t know why we’ve clung to the name of a dead ogre. What would you say to continuing to think of yourselves as a clan, but as joining a larger organization, too?”
She activated her settlement interface and focused on the name. The text highlighted, and she replaced it.
“Hereby, I’d like to call our settlement Stonehaven in honor of your clan and as a statement about the sort of place it should be. All citizens will be part of the Stonehaven league. But you will still be an independent clan. I will never take that from you.”
“So if we join your… settlement, does that make you the leader?” Dorden asked. She could see the emotional storm on his face. The clan patriarch wanted to do what was best for his people, but surely it must be a blow to give up his leadership.
“Ultimately, someone must bear the responsibility for final decisions. I will take that responsibility and burden, but I have never made decisions alone. And I don’t want to start now. Would you join Hezbek as the first two members of my city council?”
Temple of Sorrow: A LitRPG and GameLit Adventure (Stonehaven League Book 1) Page 22