Trial and Flame

by Kevin Murphy

  “You joined a group?” Roth asked, surprised by the news. “Like a guild or something?”

  “Nah,” said Dakkon. “Just a loose affiliation of people trying to make money through the game. But, they seem to be rather good at what they do. They’re the Full-Purse Antiquarians. Qirim and Lina are members—that’s why they helped us out.”

  “Oh, that makes sense,” said Melee. “That guy didn’t seem to like you very much—or anyone, really.”

  “Yeah, Qirim’s kind of an ass,” said Dakkon. “I can’t wait to tell him that we found a castle to sell. It’ll probably make him so envious he’ll want to die.”

  “Lovely,” said Mina with a devious grin. “He was an ass.”

  “—but a helpful one!” Dakkon added with a wink.

  \\\

  After a brief first foray into the Full-Purse Antiquarians’ meeting grounds—a surprisingly plain forum site for which Lina had given him a username and access code—Dakkon quickly set up his pre-approved account then found precisely what he was looking for. A whole subsection of the forums had been dedicated to selling the rare items which others had found—but, apparently, that particular subsection had gone mostly unused for some time. There were hints and traces of some kind of falling out within the Antiquarians. The primary merchant who worked with the fortune hunting group—a player named Chillo—had been caught doing something unsavory. Any details about what had actually happened seemed to have been cleaned up or would take more digging to find, but it was clear that Chillo had had his or her forum access revoked.

  As there wasn’t any new activity in that section of the forums, Dakkon didn’t know if it was a good place to ask for help—but he posted there all the same:

  |Dak:

  |Hi guys,

  |I’ve just come into possession of a massive castle in human lands (about a day’s walk from Thelasidonna).

  |I’m looking to sell. Anyone willing to help a first-timer out?

  |Posted: Today – a few seconds ago.

  Though he wanted to know just how useful his connections with the Antiquarians really were, he feared that posting in the evacuated section of a forum might not make for a very good test.

  Over the next three hours, the party explored the nooks and crannies of the old castle, but there was little left for them to find. Even the remnants of furnishings were sparse. The finer items had clearly been taken elsewhere—though the halls appeared to have been ravaged more by time than by marauders. There were no signs of struggle—no rubble or apparent chips in the stone walls. There was no obvious reason why the castle’s inhabitants had left it.

  “You guys think this thing can still fly?” Roth asked as the party explored.

  “That’s a damned good question,” Melee said. “That’s got to be a selling point. Nothing says ‘big spender’ like buying a flying castle.”

  “Hmm, we’ll see what we can find,” Dakkon said. “I can always update the forum post.”

  “Dakkon!” an annoyingly sharp voice echoed in Dakkon’s head. “If you’ve truly found an unclaimed castle from that old map, then I expect recompense for services rendered!” Dakkon recognized the tinny voice as Qirim’s.

  Dakkon focused on the physical features of the pasty-white individual and felt a slight mental tug as a mental link formed between the two. So long as they were on one another’s friends lists, Qirim could be anywhere and his voice would echo in Dakkon’s mind as though they were both back at the cottage. It was only after establishing this link that Dakkon realized why the half-elven smith Yorvel had looked so familiar to him. Qirim had a few strikingly similar features.

  “Hey Qirim,” Dakkon replied. “You never told me you were a half-elf!”

  “Hmm? You never told me you were a human,” Qirim sent. “Why should I have to explain my parentage?”

  Dakkon had nearly forgotten Qirim’s talent for rubbing him the wrong way, but a few seconds of communication was plenty to remind him.

  “Never mind,” Dakkon messaged. “The castle flies, too. You planning to help us sell it?”

  Dakkon was met with the equivalent of a long, mental sigh before Qirim transmitted his next message. “Velana will come to you. Your little post managed to pique her interest. Are you at the spot marked on that map of yours?”

  “Velana?” Dakkon asked.

  “Yes, Velana,” Qirim responded. Then, after a couple more seconds of silence he added, “How can you not know who Velana is? She’s one of our best.”

  “I only just got access to the forums,” Dakkon thought, defensively. “Just tell me, do we need to stay put, or can we mosey on?”

  “Velana’s a master tracker—and she’s near. I’m sure she’s only going to check things out for now. She’ll find the location with what I know,” Qirim transmitted. “Still, if you want her to sell the castle for you, you’ll have to give the deed to her at some point.”

  “Hm,” thought Dakkon. “My group could use a break. I’ll see what I can do. Say Qirim, do you know if there was any sort of poem at the bottom of that marked stone in Yotgard—the Healer’s Tablet?”

  “A poem? Hmm,” replied Qirim. “No, not that I’ve heard of, anyway. Why?”

  Dakkon knew he’d already given up much too specific information to properly hide what he’d found, and if he wanted to find more then he needed help figuring out the message’s significance. He hesitated only briefly. He knew that Qirim could be a great source of useful information. “It’s just that one of those large stone tablets seems to be here and there are a few lines at the bottom that only I was able to read. I was hoping you had an idea.”

  “That’s odd,” Qirim responded in a level tone. “What did the lines say?”

  Dakkon relayed the poem in its entirety. “Does it make any sense to you?”

  “No,” thought Qirim. “I’d take that up with Velana. Try not to ruffle her feathers—it may reflect poorly on me.” Then, suddenly, the invisible force connecting their minds broke.

  Did Qirim seem a little too eager to end the conversation? Dakkon didn’t know what to make of the exchange. The abrupt ending didn’t sit right with him. Had he just given away the key to some bigger mystery? He doubted it, but he wasn’t sure. It was entirely possible Qirim was simply being his usual, agitating self. Still, in the future, Dakkon would have to keep his more exclusive information precisely that—exclusive.

  “Hey guys,” Dakkon addressed his party. “Looks like a member of the Antiquarians is on her way over to check things out.”

  “Does that mean we’re done here?” asked Roth. “As much as I enjoyed exploring these empty rooms at the start, I think the fiftieth was the tipping point.”

  The group’s enthusiasm as a whole had waned. The castle was a worthy prize in itself, but room after room contained nothing of value or consequence. The party had been ready for a break from the game before they had even stepped into the tower of trials.

  “I don’t know when she’ll get here, but one of us should meet up with Velana and possibly hand over the deed before logging out,” Dakkon said. As he looked around, it was obvious that no one wanted the responsibility of staying online and waiting some untold amount of time for a stranger who may or may not show up. Dakkon sighed after studying the weary looks on his friends’ faces. “Okay, okay. I live alone on the other side and I’m not beholden to anyone, so I guess I don’t really mind sticking around. Truth be told, I kind of want to find an inn to stop by before I log out, anyway—just in case.”

  His friends looked relieved.

  “Cool,” Roth said. Then, without exhibiting the slightest hint of concern for losing the potential fortune he held in his hand, he presented the scroll—which acted as the deed to the castle—to Dakkon. As soon as Dakkon placed his hand upon the scroll, Roth moved his other hand through the air as though he were selecting an option on a window that only he could see. Then, Dakkon received his own notification:

  |Roth has transferred the ownership of Fort Moneybags
to you.

  |You have become the owner of a castle.

  |You may view your castle’s settings by invoking the name of the castle while within its walls.

  “Fort Moneybags?” Dakkon asked.

  “That was the only thing I could figure out how to change,” said Roth. “Give it a look.”

  When Dakkon thought the name of the castle with the intensity required of casting a spell, a castle settings menu opened up for him. From the castle’s settings, he could rename it—and that was all. Roth had not undersold the level of access he’d had. There appeared to be more, grayed-out tabs beside the one he was in, but Dakkon couldn’t find any way to access them.

  “Looks like we haven’t unlocked all of the settings,” Dakkon observed. “Any idea why?”

  “I looked into castles a bit after we got the deed,” admitted Mina. “Aside from changing its name, castles’ settings only allow you to keep tabs on how much currency is in the treasury and any significant damage that needs to be addressed.”

  “Wait, so you’re saying you already knew that we weren’t going to find any loot in the treasury?” Dakkon asked.

  “No,” said Mina, correcting him. “The only thing I knew was that there wasn’t going to be any spending money in the treasury. Anything else could’ve been there. Plus, would knowing that have stopped you from wanting to look for yourself?”

  “I suppose not,” said Dakkon with a sigh. “That should mean that the castle’s in good shape, anyway.”

  “Wouldn’t stop us from selling it either way,” Melee said with a shrug.

  “True enough,” agreed Dakkon.

  “You guys want to keep exploring?” asked Roth. “I’m finding it difficult to remain blindly optimistic when I consider my desire not to soil myself in the real world.”

  “That’s not… a thing that happens, is it?” Mina asked, horrified.

  “I mean, they don’t sell those ChronPods with the gnarly in-and-out tubes for no reason,” said Roth. “We’re all playing a dangerous game here. The way I see it, if the treasury was supposed to be behind an extra-thick, lockable door, then I think we’d have already found it.”

  “I vote for an immediate break,” said Mina. “Dakkon, sell that castle for us and we can figure out who gets what when we’re all back online.”

  Melee nodded and stretched her arms theatrically. “I reckon we’d better get out of the castle first. The new owners might not take too kindly to people suddenly appearing in the middle of their stronghold when we log back in.”

  “Good point,” said Roth. “Let’s head out front.”

  As they walked, Cline said nonchalantly. “Hey Dakkon, think I can tag along with you to find an inn?”

  “Yeah,” Roth said with a yawn. “Keep an eye on him.”

  Chapter 23: Velana

  The party didn’t bother to decide upon any specific time to meet back up. After their long journey, they were all eager to take nice, long breaks in the real world with the exception of Dakkon—who had business to conduct—and Cline—who had no other life to return to.

  Within a minute of reaching the entrance, Roth, Melee, and Mina had already logged off to take care of their wants and needs on the other side. When Mina left, Jinx didn’t simply fade away with her. Instead, the wolf cocked its head like it had heard some call from off in the distance, then abruptly sprinted toward and jumped down to the treetops of wooded forest beneath the plateau where the castle sat. The sudden leap down toward the treetops had startled Dakkon. Though the wolf seemed to know what it was doing, Dakkon expected that if he attempted that same jump, he’d likely break something. Once before, he’d asked Mina what happened to her wolf when she logged off, and she’d implied that Jinx would simply wait there for her return. It looked to Dakkon, however, that perhaps Jinx also lived a second life in his master’s absence.

  Mere minutes after the wolf had abandoned the last two party members, the sound of metal chinking into stone could be heard from over the side of the plateau that was directly in front of the entrance to the castle. Within five seconds, a hand gripping onto a metal spike reached up from over the ledge and jabbed the crude climbing pick into the rocky ground. With surprising ease, the new arrival lifted herself up over the edge of the mountain—all while carrying a bag nearly the same size as she was.

  The stranger’s skin was the complexion of cocoa butter. Her dark brown hair had been locked in thick, voluminous bunches everywhere except for one defiant, tightly-wrapped braid to left side of her gently-freckled face. Stunningly beautiful, she looked over at Cline and Dakkon with the sort of piercing gaze that belonged among the best that a career model could hope to offer. When she did, Dakkon could actually hear Cline gulp.

  “Dakkon?” she asked using meticulously polished and posh received pronunciation. Distinctly British, her inflections and vowel sounds betrayed her country of origin. She began to walk the pair’s way.

  “Yes,” Dakkon said. “And this is Cline. Velana, I presume?”

  Velana subtly grinned, using only the right-half of her mouth. “One and the same,” she said. “It seems you boys have happened across something rather special.” Velana immediately shifted her focus to the castle. “Was it still airborne when you came across it?”

  “It was,” said Dakkon

  Velana sighed. “That’s too bad,” she said.

  “Why’s that?” Cline asked.

  “If this castle is Reybos—and it is,” Velana said. “Then, it will take 20 years to accumulate enough mana to start flying on its own again.”

  Dakkon shrugged and pointed to the apex of the tower of trials which they’d climbed. “We must’ve missed the warning signs around the lever that dropped it.”

  “Lever?” Velana asked, her eyes settling on the tower of trials. “Interesting.” She seemed to briefly lose herself in conjecture as she guessed why a lever might’ve been set up to drop the castle from the sky.

  “Towers and the castle flying aside, do you think you can sell this thing for us?” Cline asked.

  Eyes still locked on the tower, Velana smiled warmly before she shifted her gaze back toward Cline and Dakkon. “Beyond this castle’s history and ability to fly it has another, far more valuable feature—it sits in an excellent strategic location for any guild that aims to do business in both human and elven lands. It’s not a matter of whether or not it can be sold, but rather how patiently you’d like to wait for the right buyer.”

  “Hmm,” Dakkon was worried by the idea of waiting. “How long do you think it would take to maximize our income?”

  “Years,” Velana answered flatly. She’d clearly noticed Dakkon’s reservation. “This world may still be in its infancy, but some notable people have already determined the value of virtual real estate and are buying what they can. I assure you, the true worth of this place will not be fully realized until after trade empires have been established and wars are on the horizon. Holding on would certainly be in your best interest.”

  Dakkon frowned. Players buying up land made him think of Gullen, the man who owned a hidden chunk of the beautiful city of Tian—who, for some reason or another, wanted Dakkon’s dagger so badly that he’d paid to have him repeatedly killed. If holding on meant rubbing shoulders with that sort of person, then there was another reason to sell early. “What if we wanted to get rid of it quickly? For some of us, money now is more important than the potential for money later.”

  “There’s certainly a case to be made for liquidity. I could sell it today for the right price,” said Velana with a shrug. “However, I think that within a week’s time I’ll be able to find a more suitable buyer. To clarify, the service will not be a free one.”

  “We didn’t expect it to be,” Cline said. Dakkon nodded as well.

  Velana smiled. “Good. It’s important not to expect too much of fresh allies. For that same reason, I will keep my fee relatively small. I have come to find that Chronicle favors the paths of some above others. Should your future fin
ds continue to be as intriguing as this one, then I would choose to count myself among your friends.”

  Dakkon was grateful for the promise that his party wouldn’t be unduly extorted, but he found it strange that Velana had chosen to share her motivations so clearly. A stranger being so forthright was certainly new, but he wasn’t sure whether or not the clearness of her intent was a refreshing change of pace. It simply wasn’t the type of information which people readily shared with one another.

  “Uh, sounds good?” Dakkon said, dumbly as he absently scratched at the back of his head. “So, then, how do we do this? Is there some sort of in-game contract system that serves to keep everyone honest?”

  Velana cocked her head and raised her left eyebrow. “Contract system? No.” She snickered as though the question amused her. “There are escrow services that operate in the digital space, but I’m afraid that for this you’ll have to trust me.”

  “That suits me fine,” Dakkon said, trying to keep his tone level despite a vague sense of unease. He held out the deed to the castle much as Roth had just done for him. “I’ve never been a fan of red tape.”

  It didn’t really matter how he felt about it—the fact of the matter was that Dakkon had no idea how to effectively sell the castle. He didn’t have the connections, he didn’t have the experience, and he didn’t want the hassle of it all. No matter how he might waffle back and forth, in the end he’d hand Velana the deed either way. So, he figured he may as well make a confident showing of it.

  “Good,” Velana said casually as she received the valuable deed, pausing briefly for Dakkon to transfer ownership. “Did you find anything else inside the tower?”

  “Hmm, there’s a stone tablet and a lot of nothing else,” Cline said.

  “Qirim mentioned that you’d found a new story tablet,” said Velana. “I’d like to see it for myself.”