by Kevin Murphy
When the group came to the clear-cut area outside of town, they stopped to lay low. Melee and Roth decided they’d head into Klith first to make sure there were no surprises—that is, no signs of players who might sell out or try to kill the sigil-marked Cline or Dakkon. As an additional measure, Mina and Jinx stayed behind, promising that if anyone tried to get the jump on them out in the wild, Jinx would smell them first.
Their caution proved unnecessary, however, as after thirty solid minutes of waiting, Melee reported that there weren’t any other players in the village at all. There were no player name tags to be seen, no one concealing their identity under a hood or shawl, and an NPC had insisted that they were the first visitors in two weeks. The village was so small that, had any other outsiders come through town, every local should know. With the greenlight given, the others made their way to Klith.
There was no defensive wall in Klith. The clear-cut zone around the town served as farmland, a defensive perimeter, and room for potential expansion. Though there was a fair amount of space cut away between town and the forest surrounding it, Klith was a terribly small village. The houses there were scattered around, thoughtlessly, with no mind paid for where roads might one day need to go. No structures were recognizably new, but things were well maintained. Nothing seemed to be in terrible disrepair and there were no clearly abandoned buildings. In a village of such a small size, every structure would be built with clear purpose. Should that original purpose ever be lost, they’d find another equally-important purpose for it in short order.
A waving Melee met them at the edge of town, with no immediate sign of city dwellers, save subtle movements in the distant shadow of a house. The lack of reception, guards, or a merchant trying to make a quick sale was a peculiarity for travelers making their way to a new town.
“Hey, come check out the center of town,” Melee said with a smirk.
Roth nodded, with conspiratorially widened eyes. “Yeah I want to hear what you guys think.”
The odd lack of even a casual reception—intermingling, no doubt, with his tournament participant status—caused Cline to shift uncomfortably as he looked around. To Dakkon’s dismay, he could swear that he was being watched from around a corner, but just managed to miss seeing whoever had been looking his way.
As the group walked around homes while moving further into town, Jinx growled warnings toward the shaded edges of buildings. The first NPCs they spotted were a group of children. Rather than greet them—or try to play—the children remained silent and at a distance, watching them as they passed onward through the scattered houses toward the heart of the small city.
“What’s with the silent kids?” Mina asked uncomfortably.
“They’re just not used to outsiders, I suspect,” Melee said. “I’d be willing to bet the kids are told to keep away. This is the back of the backwoods, hon. They don’t even have an inn out here.”
“If you’re unnerved by that, just wait,” said Roth while rubbing the back of his neck. “This next part gives me the heebie-jeebies. It’s like some sort of cult thing.”
“Just ahead are the mines,” said Melee, motioning in front of them into a clearing with a large glowing stone.
The mines of Klith, unlike most mines, weren’t bored into the side of a rocky crag nor were they an open pit. Instead, a jagged, translucent, blue crystal spire the size of a shed—bordering on small house—jutted outward from the ground with a slight tilt. The view of the crystal spire had been completely obscured thrice over by the bizarre placement of barns and homes throughout the town, hiding it from sight until one wandered close enough.
Though not opaque, the crystal was cloudy and voluminous enough that light seemed to only pass through its edges, where the crystal was a much lighter shade of blue than elsewhere. An opening was discernable from the direction that the group was heading, and new sounds of clanging and clinking drew them closer. Once nearby the crystal protrusion, they could see a chiseled-out spiral staircase leading down into more solid blue mineral beneath.
“Now, stop and take a second to look around,” said Roth.
After only a moment, the oddity of Klith was even more apparent. Had the village’s buildings been aligned on grids with even spacing, it would have been spotted already, but the peculiarity had managed to avoid detection until they found themselves at the epicenter of it all. In Klith, every building’s front face pointed toward the spot where they now stood. Every structure encircled them in large, otherwise disorganized, rings. All windows and doors faced toward the crystal as though watching over it—or as though it were watching over them.
“Creepy, right?” said Roth. “It’s like the whole town’s looking at you.”
Roth’s words sent a foreboding chill running down Dakkon’s spine. He turned to Mina. “Hey Mina, how much do you know about this place, anyway? It’s not some sort of cult town is it?”
Dakkon’s words caused Cline to look from building-to-building uneasily, but he simply couldn’t keep an eye on everything.
“What? No…” said Mina. “I mean, I don’t think so, anyway. There was plenty of info on the area since there didn’t seem to be anything of real value out here. I think it’s just a bit odd is all…”
Mina’s lack of conviction did nothing to slow Cline’s nervous glances.
“Uhh—hey, guys…” Cline said. “We’re definitely being watched.”
A few child-sized forms stood in the shadows of buildings, staring at them and moving slowly as they failed to elude the newcomers’ attention. Then, a creaking noise drew the party’s attention to the building most directly in front of the mine’s entrance. The wooden structure’s door began to swing open, then caught in place. Suddenly, a forceful kick caused the door to fly ajar. A big man shouldering a heavy pickaxe stepped out and into the fading sunlight. He walked forward deliberately, then stopped to look around at all of the small, child-sized forms hiding around the shadows, who giggled as he did so.
In a thick countryside accent the man yelled, “Gods sakes! You kids can be so damned creepy sometimes!”
The shadow-veiled forms of kids ran off—or at least hid from view around the sides of buildings—laughing gleefully as they moved.
The burly 40-something-year-old man walked forward toward Dakkon’s group. “I’m terribly sorry about that, y’all! The little buggers are told to keep away from strangers for obvious reasons, but they still like to watch when new folk come to town. They just happen to do so in the creepiest damned way imaginable. We’ve gotten nothing but complains about the lot of ‘em!”
Roth and Melee waved to the burly man, and the burly man bowed his head.
“Guys, this is Osword,” Roth introduced. “And that was probably the best entrance I could have hoped for.”
Dakkon, Cline, and Mina glared at Roth, less than grateful for their suspense.
“It was just like that when we showed up, too,” said Melee. “Those kids are unnerving.”
“Aye,” said the large Osword, sagely nodding his head while he stroked his thick black beard with his free hand.
“Hello Osword,” Mina ventured. “I’m Mina, and this is Dakkon and Cline. I hope these two idiots,” she pointed toward Melee and Roth, “haven’t caused you any trouble.” She smiled innocently and diplomatically.
“Hey, uncalled for!” said Melee, feigning distress with a grin on her face.
“It’s a pleasure,” said Osword. “And no, they tain’t been nothing but kind.”
“Osword,” said Dakkon. “Where are all of the other adults?”
“Hmm? In the mines, mostly,” Osword said. “I’d be down there, too, but my Da’s ill so I’m watching his shop.”
“Why the pickaxe, then?” asked Cline.
“Ah, I feel better holding it—in case I need it,” Osword replied, giving a wicked wink.
“Oh…” Cline said.
“Even the women are down in the mines?” asked Mina.
“Especially the women!”
Osword said with enthusiasm as he let out a hearty belly laugh.
The group exchanged glances with one another, unsure how to interpret the comment. Perhaps it was simply some deep country humor that didn’t translate very well.
“So, you lot are interested in checking out the mines, are you?” Osword asked after he finished his laugh.
“If that’s alright,” said Mina. “We might be able to better clear it out for you, too.”
Osword sighed in such a way that conveyed both his appreciation for the sentiment along with a polite refusal. “Ahhh… That’s mighty kind of you to say. We have had plenty o’ you adventuring-types come through and mop up the place a bit, but the critters down there always come back. Truth be told, we wouldn’t have any use for the extra mining space, neither. We’re down in the pits all day, every day, and we can only just get enough crystal dust to meet our trade obligations. The problem’s not so much more space, but more hands to work it.”
“You’ve got a trade contract all the way out here?” asked Dakkon, surprised.
“You betcha. Our mine contains visilium crystals. Their dust is in high demand for alchemical glass and various other magical trinkets,” Osword said proudly and standing a little taller than he had before.
“If it’s in high demand, why isn’t the town wealthier… with more people?” Dakkon asked.
“Ah,” Osword’s shoulders slumped back down a bit. “That’d be because we’re so remote. The merchants we trade with have said they won’t bother with the trip if we try to get a higher price.”
Mina’s eyes glazed over at this as she summoned her media console to check something out.
“That’s a bummer, man,” said Roth, sympathetically.
“It’s not such a big deal.” Osword shrugged. “We’ve got good people who don’t mind the work, and it’s safer here than most places. We suppose that’s a benefit of living above the visilium.”
Mina’s eyes refocused, finished with her query. “Osword, alchemical glass fetches a pretty good price… I think with what it’s worth this town should be fairly prosperous. What gives?”
Osword sighed. “Like I said, we’re in the middle of nowhere. We’re not close enough to any large markets, and we’re too remote to attract a mage.”
“A mage?” asked Mina.
“Right,” said Osword with a nod. “We’ve tried in the past to contract a mage to live and work here. Visilium crystal glass can’t be made with fire and tools alone, it takes magic. Unfortunately, no city-trained mage wants to live in the middle of nowhere. I can’t say I blame them, precisely, but that pretty much limits us to selling the dust we mine as-is.”
“Forgive me if I’m overstepping, but why not have someone from the village train as some sort of magical craftsman then come back?” asked Dakkon.
“Ah, Dakkon…” said Mina. “That’s because magical crafting…”
“It’s too damned expensive—aye,” Osword finished Mina’s sentence with a nod. “We’ve been saving up to that end, but we’re still some ways off. Perhaps my grandkid’s little ones will have the honor.”
“Magical crafting was the first thing that struck my fancy in Chronicle,” explained Mina. “Shaping materials through magic sounds awesome—but the price of admission was simply too steep.”
“I’m glad for it, too,” said Melee. “Questing with you as a crafter would have been…” Melee trailed off when Mina’s pinched lips clued her in to the fact that she’d just acted grateful for something that was preventing this village from thriving. “Erm… I mean—I didn’t mean—”
“Hahah, no need for any of that,” Osword said. “Nothing to be done about it.”
Changing the subject, Roth asked, “So who’s taking care of all the kids?”
“You’re looking at him,” Osword said with a grin. “That’s usually my Da’s job as well, though I’m not sure how he stands it. Kids can be right devils if you let them.”
“You’re watching them—now?” asked Roth.
“Aye,” said Osword, flicking his hand unconcernedly through the air. “If they break a bone, they know right where to find me.”
“That’s pretty laissez-faire, huh,” Cline whispered to Dakkon.
Dakkon nodded.
“Does that happen often?” Melee asked, shocked by the comment.
“Nah, not too often,” admitted Osword, setting the others’ minds at ease. “But, the little ones are like weeds anyhow, you can’t keep ‘em down for long no matter how they get.”
Dakkon had heard the proverb ‘It takes a village to raise a child,’ but never, ‘It takes a man to raise a village.’ Still, as he came from zero experience in the subject matter, he couldn’t presume to know better.
“So, is it alright for us to go down into the mines?” Dakkon asked to pull the conversation back in a productive direction. “—To hunt,” he quickly amended. “I don’t think any of us feel like mining.”
A look around confirmed Dakkon’s suspicion. The others shook their heads to indicate no interest in toiling away with a pickaxe for crystal dust.
“I don’t see why not,” said Osword. “Don’t be so sure you won’t like mining though, there’s something to be said for swinging a bit of metal and wood.”
“I’ll consider it then…” Dakkon replied, diplomatically. “You mentioned a shop before, didn’t you?”
“That I did,” said the large man. “You lot looking to buy some supplies?”
“Ideally, yes,” said Dakkon.
“Well then, right this way,” Osword said as he turned, lazily pushing his free arm forward to indicate the door-agape building he’d emerged from as their destination. The five travelers and Jinx followed the burly miner into the store, taking note of a well in the building’s eastern shade.
Perishable supplies were scarce in Osword’s father’s shop. The building felt more like it was meant for mining equipment storage than anything else. There were pickaxes, piles of dirty and thick cloth bags that had been treated by something akin to tallow to prevent dust leaks, torches, candles, sets of new working clothes, shovels, scoops, and wheelbarrows.
“What have you got in the way of food?” Dakkon asked.
Osword swung around behind a beaten-up countertop and opened a door hardly big enough for him to fit through. After rooting around for a moment he returned with three cleaner-looking sacks than the others strewn about the shop, though made of the same cloth fibers.
While there were no fresh fruits, one sack contained something dried and date-like which would make a fine treat on the road. The second sack contained small quantities of various salt-cured game meats, which looked mouth-wateringly delicious to Dakkon, despite the dubious nature of their storage. The third sack contained two large square stacks of hard, unleavened bread.
“This isn’t the food supply for the whole city, is it?” Cline asked. It wasn’t enough food for a village, but given the apparent poverty of the area, anything was possible.
“This? Hah! Well aren’t you a kind soul?” Osword said, mirthfully. “No, lad, if I’m being completely honest, this is the town’s trail-ready food that needs to go the soonest. We don’t get many travelers here, but the merchants always need to resupply, so we sell them the older stuff at a premium.” Osword added a wink.
“Devious,” Roth said with a smirk.
“In that case, is there any other food we can buy?” asked Dakkon.
“Ah, sorry, no,” Osword said, apologetically. “This has to go first. We aren’t much for wasting food here. We can sell it, or use it to supplement our own meals, but this is what’s for sale until it’s gone. I’m willing to charge you a reasonable sum, though, rather than a merchant’s fee.”
Dakkon shrugged. “How much for the lot of it?”
“Eight gold,” said Osword.
“I thought you’d be giving us a reasonable price,” said Melee with an offended glare. In Chronicle, the price of basic foodstuffs tended to be remarkably inexpensive. A typi
cal, mundane meal cost a tiny fraction of a real-world credit to keep living costs cheap in the virtual world. Though the price did skyrocket if the food granted magical benefits, it was easy to see that the food before them was completely ordinary in nature.
Before Osword had a chance to speak, Cline held up his hand. “No, that’s all right. I’d be happy to pay for it.”
Melee’s glare turned to disbelief as Cline pulled out eight shiny gold pieces and placed them on the countertop, but she gave in with a shrug. “It’s your money, I guess.”
“Well then, a little good will can’t hurt, I suppose,” Mina commented.
Osword nodded his approval of the situation as he picked up the gold coins. “Pleasure doing business with y’all. My father will be pleased.”
“Out of curiosity, what would you have charged a merchant for that?” asked Roth.
“Nothing shy of 50 gold, I promise you,” Osword said. “It’s the one chance we’re granted to stick it to them a little. I saw my Da fleece them for 120 once. We still laugh about that ‘round the dinner table.” The big man chuckled to himself then recited a well-rehearsed quote from his father, “‘If you can’ afford it, there’s plenty o’ creatures you could hunt down in the mines!’ What an old ass he is!”
“Osword,” Mina said to grab the large man’s attention. “Is there anything we should know about the mines before we head down into them?”
“Yeah,” said Osword. “Don’t go.”
The party looked confused.
“Didn’t you say it would be fine for us to go?” asked Cline.
“Oh, I won’t stop you, it’s just a bad idea is all,” Osword said.
“Why do you say that?” asked Mina, responsibly.
“Young lass, it’s a damnedable hole filled with monsters.”
Chapter 9: The Damnedable Hole Filled with Monsters
Passing through the upper-most layer of the mines earned Dakkon’s party quite a few odd stares. There labored nearly the entire adult population of the city, tired and nearly finished with a full day’s work. Most appeared indifferent to the group’s arrival, mining away at outcrops and cavities lined with blue crystal while the rest performed a slew of tasks to keep the village running. The villagers’ collective mining had created large, spacious nooks in the crystal and rock which now clearly served as store rooms, a dining hall, and even a nursery for the youngest children. Not only did they store their mined visilium crystal dust in the mines, they also stored large amounts of food, additional tools, and the lion’s share of the community’s collective wealth—visible as a heap of carelessly-placed bags filled with mostly low-valued coins behind a thick metal lattice imbedded into the stone and crystal at multiple points in all sides of the corridor. There was no clear way to access the bounty aside from mining a way into it.