The butler coughed from the doorway, catching Lord Baen’s attention. “Would you like for me to fetch refreshments for your guests, sir?”
“Yes, yes. Please do, Gerald,” Lord Baen said waving his hand dismissively. “The rest of you can take a seat,” he offered, motioning to the other vacant chairs near the fire.
Riley and Frank spared a confused glance at Jason. This wasn’t quite what they had been expecting from the leader of one of the rival houses. Where were the guards? Where were the attendants? Something felt off.
As the group got themselves settled, Lord Baen spoke up, “So what exactly are you all looking for again?”
“We actually haven’t explained that yet,” Riley replied. “We’re looking for an island near Falcon’s Hook. It might have once been home to a temple – although it may be nothing more than ruins at this point.”
Lord Baen’s eyes widened in alarm. “An island you say? There is only one island around here, and I’m afraid it’s a deathtrap. Why would you be interested in such a place?”
Jason was forced to ponder a moment on how best to answer that question – not wanting to reveal their real goal. He was starting to get used to the constant lying. “We’re explorers,” he began slowly, “and we’ve been tasked with retrieving an item from this old temple. A collector has enlisted us to retrieve it and offered a considerable reward if we were able to recover the item.”
The older man shook his head, his face somber. “It’s a fruitless quest then. There is nothing but death waiting for you on Anguine Isle. The sailors in town avoid it like the plague,” he added, trailing off into a pensive silence as his gaze lingered on the fireplace.
Lord Baen sighed. “You all have probably noticed that my manor has seen better days.” He smiled as he saw Jason open his mouth to object. “My eyesight has gotten worse over the years, but there is no need to lie for my benefit.
“The truth is that we’re on our last legs. Historically the two houses that run Falcon’s Hook have had an arrangement. Our house would handle trade contracts heading north along the coast – journeying to Carmellon and even as far as Tristram. House Cairn would then take the contracts heading south.
“In those days, the city was thriving,” he explained wistfully. “The island changed all of that, and it has just been growing worse over time,” the older man muttered.
“What do you mean?” Jason asked.
“What I mean is that any boat that travels near the island disappears. It used to be that skirting Anguine Isle by a few leagues was sufficient. Now, any vessel that gets within forty leagues vanishes without a trace. So, we began sending ships further and further afield to avoid the island, but this adds days and even weeks to a trade shipment – which is fine if you’re shipping clothing or nonperishable goods. Anything else and it will be a rotten mess by the time it arrives!
“The loss of several cargos set us back considerably. You wouldn’t believe the stink our insurers raise every time a ship goes missing. We had difficulty proving our losses with no survivors or sign of the ships and we were ultimately forced to come out of pocket to replace the cargos.”
“There are insurance companies inside the game?” Jason heard Frank whisper to Riley.
Jason was also a little shocked at the depth that Alfred had added to the game world, but he needed to stay focused on his conversation with Lord Baen. “I see the problem.”
Lord Baen nodded, a hand rubbing idly at his right knee. “So, what did my family start doing? They began pilfering trade contracts from House Cairn. As you can imagine, that went over splendidly with that selfish old bastard Joseph Cairn. Now here we are, with rising tensions between the two houses.”
The old man shook his head. “However, we’re losing the war. On top of the issues we encountered with Anguine Isle, our ships heading south were suddenly being attacked by so-called pirates, our crews would desert at the last minute, and entire shipments would suddenly go missing. Other shipments have been loaded onto the wrong boats altogether.”
“Was House Cairn responsible for that?” Riley asked.
Lord Baen’s lips pinched into a grimace. “I suspect it was retaliation for pilfering Joseph’s clients. Our men certainly leaped to that conclusion. Yet proof is still lacking.”
Jason was following along with the old man’s explanation. “You had few options other than to devote your remaining resources to purchasing new ships and hiring new crews,” Jason said, thinking aloud.
“That’s the long and short of it,” the older man replied curtly.
“Didn’t anyone try to determine what was causing the ships to go missing near Anguine Isle?” Frank asked. “That seems like it would have helped solve these problems.”
Lord Baen looked at the burly barbarian sadly. “And here we arrive at the worst of it. My son’s thoughts were the same as your own. He insisted that our family’s fortune depended on exploring that island. He became obsessed with researching the origin of this mysterious mist.”
The older man gestured at the books and scrolls piled on a nearby table in the center of the room and the bookshelves ringing the study. “He became convinced that an important relic had been taken to the island a long time ago and that it might explain the mists and strange disappearances.”
Jason and his group perked up at the mention of a relic. Could it be that Lord Baen was referring to the Grimoire? “What type of relic?” Jason asked. “Did your son’s research provide any hints?”
“He just kept muttering something about a sphere. Supposedly, it provides some control over the sea. Not that this helps clarify much,” Lord Baen muttered, rubbing at his temple.
Riley looked thoughtful, watching the older gentleman. “You said that this was the worst part of your story. What happened to your son?”
Lord Baen sighed heavily. “He was insistent on exploring that island. He used most of our remaining funds to hire a ship and crew to take him to the island – a foreign crew, mind you. The sailors here in town won’t go near it. I never heard from my boy again.” With this final statement, the gentleman lapsed into a pain-filled silence.
The butler chose just that moment to return with drinks and refreshments for Jason and his group. The door to the study creaked open with a groan, and the uptight attendant rolled in a tea trolley – handing a beverage to each guest. He then set down a large silver tray on a circular table in the center of the sitting area, small biscuits heaped on its surface. Frank grabbed a handful and promptly stuffed one in his mouth.
Riley took advantage of the lull in the conversation, raising an eyebrow and gesturing toward Lord Baen. Jason picked up on her message. “Lord Baen,” he began, “perhaps we could help one another. It sounds like this Anguine Isle is the place we’re looking for – although the spherical relic does not match our employer’s description. What if we were to investigate this island on your behalf?”
The old man glanced up at Jason, a brief flash of hope flaring in his eyes before vanishing beneath the familiar pallor of sadness. “I appreciate the offer, but have you not been listening? It’s a hopeless quest.”
“My friends and I are quite capable of handling ourselves,” Jason interjected. “We might also be able to find evidence of what happened to your son.”
The older man shook his head. “I’m certain he’s dead. It has been nearly a year since he left.” Then Lord Baen shook himself, refocusing on the group. “What we desperately need is that orb – assuming it even exists. With that relic, we might remove the curse on the island. If my son was right, it might also allow us to recover our family’s fortune.”
“That certainly seems like a self-serving goal,” Frank muttered, eyeing the old man skeptically. This earned him a glare from the butler who now hovered nearby.
“Perhaps,” Lord Baen acknowledged. “But I can’t afford to be anything but pragmatic at this stage. My family is all dead and buried, and I’m one more lost shipment from losing everything.”
He l
ocked eyes with Frank, staring him down. “If you need to comfort yourself with an altruistic motive, perhaps you should consider what will happen to our crews and the tradesmen that rely on our employment and services. House Cairn might pick up a few of the scraps that are left, but this would be a devastating blow to the city and surrounding area.”
Frank’s eyes widened, clearly not certain how to respond.
“Then we can try to retrieve this orb you’ve described,” Jason volunteered. “If you can provide a crew and a ship, we will investigate this island for you.”
Lord Baen seemed to consider this proposal, a frown creasing his lips. Gerald eyed him with concern. “Sir, you can’t seriously be contemplating sending another crew to their deaths,” he said. “This is madness.”
“And what other option do we have?” Lord Baen replied in a resigned tone. “We can’t compete with House Cairn any longer. Maybe it is time for one last ditch effort.”
He gave a final sigh before glancing up at Jason. “Fine, boy. I will give you a boat and a crew. In return, I want you to bring me back this relic. And,” he began, his voice thickening with emotion, “if you discover what happened to my son…”
“We will do our best,” Jason assured him. He hesitated for a brief moment before continuing, his mind running through the logistics of traveling to the island. “When is the soonest we can leave?”
“I heard that there is a foreign crew that arrived earlier this morning. I can speak with the captain this evening. Assuming he is willing, you could be ready to launch by tomorrow.”
“Good,” Jason replied. “We need to leave at nightfall. Please communicate that to the captain.”
“Nightfall,” the older man muttered. “Are you mad?” Then he hesitated, chuckling slightly, “What am I asking? Of course, you must be crazy if you are undertaking this hopeless quest. Fine. It will be done.” As the old man uttered this last statement, a prompt flashed in Jason’s vision.
Quest Update: Strength of Many
After arriving in Falcon’s Hook, you discovered that the town has been divided by two warring trade families. Lord Baen explained that the rivalry began as a result of the disappearance of ships around Anguine Isle - possibly caused by an unknown relic. This island also seems to match the descriptions that Morgan provided and may be a good place to start in recovering the Dark One’s Grimoire.
Difficulty: A
Primary Success: Gather the following three ingredients:
Heart of a dungeon boss.
The Dark One’s Grimoire.
Two willing sacrifices.
Secondary Success: Recover the relic that is causing the mists surrounding Anguine Isle and return it to Lord Baen.
Failure: Unknown
Reward: Advancement in the Path of the Dark
At least we seem to be moving along the correct path, Jason thought. I just hope I don’t regret traveling to a mysterious death island.
Jason’s gaze shifted to Eliza where she sat quietly nearby. She had listened to most of the exchange with Lord Baen in silence. She now fidgeted in her chair, glancing at the air beside her and shaking her head slightly while muttering under her breath. As Jason watched, a flash of anger filled her eyes, followed swiftly by a look of resignation.
“Umm,” Eliza interjected. “I would like to accompany you if you will take me.”
“Oh, my dear girl,” Lord Baen replied, his eyes widening. “This isn’t the sort of journey for young alchemists. You would be much safer staying at Alma’s cottage,” he suggested, a look of concern clouding his expression.
Eliza sighed, glancing at the empty air beside her once more. “I understand, but I would still like to go,” she said in a grudging tone. She turned to face Jason. “May I accompany you?”
Jason spared a quick look at Riley and Frank. His burly friend shrugged indifferently while Riley inspected the water mage closely, curiosity lingering in her eyes. They didn’t seem to have any immediate issues with Eliza joining the group and Jason had to admit that he had been impressed with how quickly she had incapacitated the sailors. Perhaps she would be useful.
“Sure. I suppose you can come with us,” Jason said finally. He glanced at his in-game clock and noted the late hour in the real world. “We will leave tomorrow evening in-game. Speaking of which, we probably need to break for tonight.”
“You may all stay here this evening,” Lord Baen spoke up, still looking at Eliza with a worried expression. “It’s not as though anyone else is using this place.”
With that matter decided, the group broke for the evening, and Eliza retreated further into the house. As Jason watched the girl walk away, he could have sworn that he heard her muttering something about “stupid sheep” under her breath.
“She’s a weird girl,” Riley said, her eyes also lingering on Eliza. “Are you certain about bringing her along? She still doesn’t know who we really are.”
“We can use all the help we can get. Who knows what we’ll find on this island.”
“Assuming we even make it that far. You know, what with the death mist and all,” Frank muttered, coming up behind them and stuffing another biscuit in his mouth.
Jason shrugged. “I guess we’ll find out.”
Chapter 10 - Sheltered
Claire and Robert sat on the central dais in the control room, the other lab techs bustling around them as the hum of an active office echoed through the room. The routine commotion in the room was abruptly interrupted as the screen above the lab suddenly flickered to life, a notification painted on the screen. The techs around the room all glanced up in confusion.
“What’s going on?” Claire asked, turning to Robert.
His brow was furrowed, and he was typing animatedly at his terminal. “There appears to have been an incident in Vaerwald. One of the techs flagged it as unusual. I’m putting it up on the screen now.”
The display stuttered for a moment and then resolved into the viewpoint of a player. The time stamp in the corner indicated that the footage was taken roughly twenty minutes ago. The player stood in line with other NPCs and players below Vaerwald – the city’s disks looming above him.
Night had fallen some time ago, and the area around the player was faintly illuminated by floating globes of light. Massive bronze tubes rested on the platform a few yards away, the metallic tunnels stretching up to the city above them. Groups of players would enter an opening carved into the base of the tubing, and then jet-like gusts of air would launch them up through the pipes and into the city proper.
A flash of movement could be seen along the nearby tree line. The player glanced to the side, focusing on a black-robed figure sprinting toward the platform. As the mysterious individual neared the player, the camera abruptly jerked to the side and slammed into the ground nearby. The system automatically dampened the audio feedback on the video, but the group in the lab could still make out an unmistakable roaring noise in the background.
“What was that?” the man gasped, trying to sit back up with a pained groan. Notifications flashed in the corner of his vision, indicating that his health had plummeted, and his arm was broken.
The view panned back to the city, revealing the wreckage of what had once been the travel platform. Partially melted and singed metal now littered the area and bodies lay everywhere. Players and NPCs were bleeding out on the ground as their cries of pain filled the air. Massive hunks of bronze tubing crashed down around the player, throwing up dust and debris as the metal pipes continued to collapse.
Before the player could react, he saw a second form racing toward him. He put up his hands defensively, but it was already too late. The figure’s body exploded violently, his skin and clothing disintegrating in a flash of crackling energy. A searing light illuminated the display, and then the screen went dark – signaling the player’s death.
The group in the lab stared at the dark screen with wide eyes. Robert shook his head, his fingers racing across the keyboard of his terminal. “It app
ears someone destroyed the travel platform below Vaerwald. Some type of fire-based explosive was used.” He glanced at the techs nearby. “Does anyone have better footage?”
A few seconds later, a tech finally spoke up. “It doesn’t look like there’s anything usable. All of the players in the area died in the explosions. Most of the video is a collection of fragmented images similar to what we just witnessed.”
Another notification from her news feed appeared on Claire’s terminal. She could see that many of the other techs in the room had received the same notice, their heads swiveling back to their screens. It was a post from a player that had arrived on scene after the explosion. She reported seeing a few undead corpses littering the area amid the remains of the players. They all wore the livery of the Twilight Throne, and explosive crystals were stuffed in their packs.
Robert frowned. “This can’t be right,” he said, his eyes still fixed on his terminal. “Why would Jason attack Vaerwald?”
Claire wasn’t sure. This seemed like an erratic decision even for Jason. Her eyes darted to the black obelisks beside the lab – assuming they were even still dealing with Jason.
***
Jason woke up the next day feeling groggy. He had immediately fallen into bed the night before, too tired after the trip to Falcon’s Hook and their conversation with Lord Baen to muster the energy to get up and say hello to Angie or make himself something to eat. He was now feeling the consequences of that decision, his stomach rumbling loudly.
After finishing up his morning ritual, Jason trudged into the kitchen – finding another note from his Aunt displayed across the door of the refrigerator. Now that he was feeling a little more human and beginning to settle into his new apartment, he took some time to explore. Which was how he quickly realized they didn’t have much in the way of food. A cereal and ramen-only diet was getting a bit old.
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