by Andrew Novak
Khao Nai, Captain of the Guards, Taunite
Expertise: 50
Health: 65
Jack was half-watching the warriors and half-listening to Sartorius who was talking about the Principalities ashore. His thoughts, however, were revolving around the Hiji’s quest. There had to be something to it. Something else.
It just couldn’t be that scriptwriters let players go on a long journey and struggle so much for a victory, only to disappoint them with a joke of a prize. Jack tried to imagine what the person responsible for the quest’s script was thinking. The writer had developed motivations for all the characters. So, what kind of logic was driving the outlaws who broke out of the Fan-Go prison?
They hijacked the first ship they could, it made sense. They first needed to get out of the Lu Principality. But what was the point of sailing this boat so far, so close dangerous places, like the wild swamps? While he was trying to read the quest developer’s mind, Sartorius was describing the Taunite lands’ structures.
“Farther north there are only very insignificant principalities. Mo and Lu are wealthy because of their trade with the South, because the Chand is an outstanding trade route. The farther you go north, the smaller and poorer the principalities become because there’s no point in bringing the goods that far. There’s less order there, and the authority of the law is weaker, so black magic thrives in those little enclaves. Necromancers don’t live there, but various kinds of sorcery are easily found in the Taunite North. And the outlaws we are pursuing are most likely black mages.”
“That’s even stranger then,” thought Jack. “It means that it would be most reasonable for the outlaws to hide somewhere in the Taunite North. They would do pretty well there. But no, they decided to run even farther, to the wild and dangerous swamps. They must have a reason for such a journey then. But what is it? It’s impossible to guess, but when the Runner reaches the swamps, we need to remember that they had some serious need to do so.”
All the while the Taunite lands were on the starboard side. The port towns were smaller the further north they went, the villages looked poorer, and fewer ships sailed Chand in either direction. From time to time, there were occasional junks with obviously pirate crews aboard, but no one dared to attack the Lu Principality’s guard. Jack had to admit that Sartorius was right to choose this quest. Not only did he not have to pay, but he also had defense against pirates.
By the second half of the day the river around them completely emptied; towns were also few and far in between. That’s why Jack couldn’t help but notice a vessel stubbornly following the Runner. A little sailing ship was appearing astern, eventually falling behind, then catching up – as if to make sure that the Runner was still going north – and then falling behind again. It went on for too long to be a coincidence. Jack’s suspicion was that the Gravediggers were still spying on him. But, as always, he thought that if nothing could be done about the situation, he should just let it run its course.
Near the Fasheer swamps, the land to starboard became completely deserted. On the portside, for quite a while already, only wilderness could be seen – these were lands still unconquered and uninhabited by Gaerthon people. This part of Stoglav was an immense field for exploits where players went to fight demon worshipers. Pagan temples and monsters’ lairs were destroyed again and again, but the mobs respawned each time. This part of the continent remained like some kind of a reserve for future conquests. This is what Alterra’s developers had had in mind. But the Gendemic changed the game’s look. There were too few players to expand to the conquered lands and create new kingdoms, so vast areas north of the Chand were used only for standalone quests.
No adventures were expected in these desert lands. Besides, the Runner was being guarded by Taunite warriors now, so the Stargazer guild could safely leave the ship unwatched. Before logging out completely, Jack went into the Shell to check his mail. A message from an unknown address was waiting for him. There was a strange smiley in the ‘Subject’ field: a dot and a closing parenthesis, a sign Shifty Peter used. Jack opened it:
“Jack, it would be risky to write using my own account. Take a walk today. Remember the old bus about a hundred steps from your trailer? Take a walk there. It’s important.”
And instead of a signature, there was that one-eyed smiley again. Jack logged out and pulled off the virt-helm.
Lisa was already busy setting the table. She turned around and reminded him:
“You said I should demonstrate my cooking skills, right? Well, now you’ll see.”
Jack tried not to look preoccupied and smiled. The girl’s attempt to make it cozy was touching, but he wasn’t in the mood for all that. If this mail was not from Peter, that meant things were really bad. If it was from him, then things weren’t as bad. Shifty Peter wouldn’t be so obscure for no reason. If he was acting like this, then he was very worried. And if it’s not Peter, if somebody was writing in his name – then this was it, the end. It meant it was sent by someone so informed that they knew everything about Peter, his secrets, and his style of writing. It meant it was written by someone so powerful, that they were not afraid of Peter, who wouldn’t tolerate his messages being faked.
“I’m going out for a bit”, he said to Lisa. “Let’s eat when I come back, okay?”
It was already completely dark in real life, and the nearby trailers’ windows were dimly lit. Afar, above the roofs, in the web of wires, were the dazzling lights of New Atrium, shining far brighter. Jack left the trailer and started down the street, towards the old bus.
When he got to the rusty old wreck, there was no one there and nothing to see apart from the thorny thicket in which the bus was literally buried in. Jack decided to wait. Suddenly the weed that enveloped half of the bus rustled, and the hushed voice of Carl could be heard:
“Jack, come closer. I don’t want to make too much noise.”
“What’s the point of this? Why all these games?” Jack asked just as quietly, taking three more steps towards the sound. He stopped near the rusty side of the bus and looked away.
Carl wouldn’t come out of hiding, that was obvious. He didn’t want them to be seen together. Even though it was night and there was nobody in the street, the big guy was still being cautious.
“Peter asked me to tell you something. I’ll do it and leave, low profile. Don’t ask me to repeat anything and don’t show that you hear something. Just stand there and listen. Alphas are looking for you. You and that girl, Lisa. We don’t know who, we don’t know why, but they are. Right now, they know only your in-game names. But sooner or later they’ll find out more. They asked Peter just because somebody in New Atrium knew his real name. He’s an omega-partner of the philanthropists, after all. Meaning, they asked him the same way they ask everybody they can get their hands on. They give a hundred panbucks for detailed info and a tenner for a hint. Now these questions are spreading around the ghetto, so sooner or later they’ll get you. That’s all. I’m going.”
The bushes rustled – Carl was getting out of the thicket on the other side of the wreck. Jack just stood there for a little while, frowning, his cheekbones moving from anxiety – and then went back home. He was looking at the street in a completely different way now, searching for danger. But everything was the same as before. His neighbors were quarreling; Phil was singing something inside his trailer. His howling was quiet, though, not like he was straining himself.
Maybe it’s wasn’t that serious and they'd be just fine? He shook his head. No, it was serious. Most omegas would sell themselves for a hundred panbucks. Jack imagined the rumors slowly spreading around the Clusters and everyone gossiping about Jack the Tramp at every corner. They'd find him, there’s no doubt about that... Eventually the rumors would reach someone who knows him in real life. It was just a matter of time.
He needed to take measures. It’s a shame that he needed to do that while being a stone’s throw away from sailing to Gaerthon. Fate, that bitch, always pulls jokes like that.
She did the same to Andrew Vigo when he almost got to the Tear of Azeroth. But there’s a difference between them: Jack can’t just quietly run off because he has Lisa now.
When he returned to the trailer, the measures were completely decided on:
“Lisa, we need to do something. Don’t be scared just yet, but be prepared for some changes. Do you want to touch upon the history of Alterra’s creation?”
* * *
They couldn’t hit the road right away. First they needed to charge all the batteries they could find in the trailer. Jack was planning to lie low outside the ghetto where no one would even think to look for them. It’s quieter there, but let’s face it – you can hardly get any electricity in the Wasteland. New Atrium provided power to the Clusters where the poor lived but no one cared about the people who might live further. And they also needed to stock up on water; it was even more important than food. Jack diligently filled his backpack with everything they could need because he had to plan for two now. Canned food, a canteen of water, medicine...
Walkers tried not to travel the wilderness at night. One could dismiss it as a superstition, but superstitions don’t appear from of nowhere, so Jack did the best he could to stick to this rule. And now he had to break it.
He and Lisa set off before dawn. They were going slowly. Jack was straining his eyes and ears for any movement nearby, but animals didn’t come near the ghetto territory, and you can’t run very well with the batteries and water can in your backpack.
At night, the Wasteland seemed like the most peaceful place in the world. Even using the flashlight, one could see no more than pebble and tufts of grass not very far ahead. There was no sound and no movement.
But their journey still wasn’t an uneventful one. Hard as he tried to look into the gray of the dawn, Jack didn’t notice the hole in the ground. The sand under Lisa’s feet started moving into an unseen hollow. Then jaws full of small sharp teeth appeared. The animal itself was also quite small, but when a beast from the Blighted Wasteland bit, it’s always dangerous. Even a tiny brute could turn out to be venomous. So Jack pushed the girl away and kicked the choppers back to the burrow with his heel, caving the ground and covering the underground tunnel in the process. He did it so energetically that Lisa lost her balance and fell. Jack, calling himself the worst names, dashed towards her, but she brushed him off:
“I’m fine, I’m fine! But what was that? What was creeping out of the hole?”
“Just more bad news. Now let’s go.”
But when Lisa tried to get up, she ended up wincing and groaning. Turned out she twisted her ankle. Not badly, but she would have a limp for couple of days.
For that reason, a journey which Jack usually made in a couple hours, took three times more. In the end, they arrived at Simon’s House – the ruins of the building where one of Alterra’s developers once lived. That man had been a bit on the odd side, as they say, and thanks to the clues he left in the game, Jack discovered a very interesting adventure some time ago.
Simon had liked being alone, so he worked in the basement. It was that basement Jack decided to use. He stuck an antenna to the remains of a wall and strung the wire to the alphas’ transmitter, which Vince taught him to use during the trip back from the crashed airship. While he was busy with that, Lisa explored the basement. There was nothing there that could surprise a non-Walker who had few encounters with the remains of the old world. Racks full of computer junk, indecipherable notes, faded pages, electronic scraps, and all kinds of trinkets and things which hardly anyone knew the purpose of... But Simon had covered the walls with the posters dedicated to Alterra’s first release, which Lisa liked a lot. She limped from one poster to the next, exposing them to the light and touching the glossy paper.
A beefy barbarian in a crested helmet was pointing his axe at the viewer: “Do you dare to fight me?” A brunette with a barely covered, gorgeous bosom was holding a blinking flame in her palm, winking impishly: “Do you want to see my magic?” A gray-bearded priest in a loose cape was frowning: “The mysteries of Alterra await you!”
When Jack, unreeling the antenna cable, went down the stairs, Lisa also winked, pointing at the poster with the mage:
“Want to see my magic? Mine is just as good.”
Jack shook his head:
“You better get some sleep. We need to rest at least a few hours. The accumulators should last a while, but let’s save the power for the time being and log on later. Soon, important events will start in Alterra. We wouldn’t want the power to go out in the middle of a fight.”
The beginning of a new day turned out to be peaceful. The sailing ship following the Runner no longer appeared astern. But then, a player on a flying pet was seen several times in the sky. Jack’s explanation was that since the river was emptying and the pursuers were afraid to give themselves away. Without any other ships, a lone vessel would stand out too much. That’s why they called a flyer for help. The Gravediggers must have found a portal along the way and used it. But Jack didn’t share his thoughts with anyone, except Eloise. And even with her he tried to make it seem that the chase was just a joke, nothing to worry about.
“What’s more important,” he continued, “is there a way to resurrect a dead NPC? Necromancers can do that with a player, but what if I, say, take down one of the thugs from The Gray Gull? Would you be able to resurrect him?
“Probably,” Lisa replied after thinking for a bit. “I didn’t try that myself but I saw it in the Despot’s palace. While necromancer nobles were doing their performances, Ruger used me in his rituals, but NPC necromancers used servants for their sacrifices, and the servants were also NPCs. They resurrected dead on two or three occasions. I can try. But why?”
“You’ll find out. I’m not sure; we need to try and see what happens. So prepare your dark magic. As I understand, we will soon catch up with the escaped outlaws.”
By the end of the day, The Runner reached completely feral lands. The current became very slow. Shreds of water plants were wallowing in the muddy waters full of intertwined stalks and seaweed which looked like red rags. A few animal carcasses drifted by. Sometimes ruins came near the shore; there were ugly statues without limbs, remnants of piers and watchtowers – the shadows of the long forgotten war between demons and dragons.
Taunites weren’t practicing combat anymore; they just stood near the shipboard and examined the shores. Jack looked at the sky behind them from time to time. There was still a dark dot looming in the blue – the mounted flying spy he saw earlier. It looked like sparks were flashing there, up high, and Jack was watching for a long time, squinting his eyes, but he still couldn’t figure out the breed of the pet. Some kind of reddish-purple glow.
Suddenly, the onlooker started to fly away. Jack decided not to ask the captain for a spyglass for now. If the guy spying on the ship from up high appeared again, then Jack might take a better look at the winged beast he had below the saddle.
Next morning, the Runner reached the creek of the northern outlet of the great Chand. Here the river flowed into the swamps, becoming lost in damp forested plains which stretched miles and miles. These places were notorious for being of the deadliest in Alterra. The current slowed down even more, the water darkened and at times wasn’t seen at all, being covered with a layer of scum and blackened rotting branches of ugly twisted trees which drooped over the river’s many braids.
Zambal was steering slowly, mumbling:
“’The Gull’ must be here somewhere! It’s near, I can smell it! But where should we look? This river is as braided as a demon worshiper’s beard.”
Sartorius let out a deep sigh, and a crystal ball appeared in his hands. The mage gazed into the artifact and started speaking into his beard about how much this makes his mana drop. Eloise tried to look too but, most likely, wasn’t able to see anything since the picture inside the ball existed only for the one who was chanting the spell.
Half an hour passed. The Runner drew slowly along the river. Sarto
rius gulped down two blue vials during that time, restoring his mana... Finally, he showed the way:
“There. There’s something over there, we need to look closer.”
“Magic,” Zambal grunted. It wasn’t clear whether it was a sign of suspicion or praise.
Nevertheless, he turned the wheel, going where he was told. Jack noticed a dead man ashore. It was obviously not an NPC, but a part of the landscape: an NPC would disappear a few minutes after death. Moreover, to be realistic, an NPC would be eaten by animals even before that.
“This man was from The Gray Gull”, Zambal said. “We are on the right track.”
Khao Nai gave a nod to his people, signaling them to prepare for a fight. The river braid narrowed, so The Gray Gull could hardly get much farther.
Their ship turned again and again, following the unusual fairway formed by the winding river arms.
“Found it!” Jack exhaled.
The Gray Gull resembled its owner, Hiji – just as old and downcast, showing signs of former glory and prosperity. The bulkhead was once adorned with gilded carvings, but now the fretwork was jagged, and the gilding peeled off. A wooden figure of a bird holding the bowsprit blackened because of the dirty water and swamp fumes. The mast was sticking out lonely, brooding among the tree branches, which were black and dead and resembled gnarly bony hands.
“They struck bottom!” Zambal shouted from astern. “The outlaws might be somewhere close then! They wouldn’t get far through the Fasheer swamps. In these lands the crew gets stuck along with the ship.”
Khao Nai pulled down his helmet with scarlet plume and declared, in a solemn voice:
“I have long waited to meet the damned Bon Vijao. If you come across him in combat, try not to kill the sleaze, because I want to do it with my own hands. And remember: he is a sorcerer.”