“Giddy up, sweetie! Let’s go!” I raced along Eyre’s narrow streets to uptown, into the house where Weldy Nialit lived and worked. The house was swept up in a real nightmare. Peaceful NPCs and players were trying to muster resistance against Pandorum, who had sprung upon the city out of the blue. Yet they were weak and disorganized, unlike the veteran predators that were the Steel Guard mercenaries. Only faction guards, who ensured the safety and security of the kingdom, could save Eyre, but I could not find a single guard out in the streets.
The common chat was choke full of panicky questions mixed with the mockery of Pandorum's members. Nobody had any idea how such mayhem could be caused inside the capital of an NPC kingdom.
It was not long before trouble found me. With my own eyes, I saw a gang of Pandas kill a player and hastily drag NPC citizens out of their homes, clearly favoring women and young girls. Those who tried to oppose them were killed on the spot, while the rest were bound and had slave collars fastened around their necks. I rushed past them, lucky enough to avoid a fight, and turned into a narrow alley, dodging the arrows fired at me, then spurred Snowflake to turn the corner twice more to throw them off the track. Whew, I made it!
I was almost deafened by the howling next to me. A dragon dashed right above me, its belly knocking the tiling off the roofs. Two mercenaries were firing from the saddles. The shadow of the house saved me, but it did not save Snowflake, whose body was a white stain in the twilight of the city.
Your mount received 312 damage! Your mount received 256 damage! Your mount cannot move! Your mount is dead!
They were hunting players, and the guy I burned inside the tavern had probably already told the others. They would be looking for me. Before my pursuers came back and new ones emerged, I broke into a run. I used backstreets and gardens, just like in my childhood, in the countryside, where I had spent the summers visiting my grandma. Over the past month and a half, I had managed to study Eyre in enough detail to find a roundabout path into the Upper Quarter. I raced as fast as my stamina allowed me, stopping only to replenish it with quick gulps of water.
Unfortunately, I was too late. Weldy’s house looked like a protodragon had breathed at it: charred facade, broken windows bristling with shards of glass. The fire had probably petered out in its infancy, leaving only sticky black soot covering everything the fire had touched. The basement door that lead into the shop had been kicked down and hung on one hinge. Inside, everything was overturned. The closets were toppled over and looted. Fragments of potions and elixir bottles crunched under my feet. I picked up a dirty white puff sleeve. It belonged to Weldy’s favorite white-green dress that she always wore at home.
I felt sick to my core. Get a hold of yourself, Cat! Don’t be stupid! Maybe it’s not too late...
I tried to return to the Watchers’ raid and reconnect to the voice and chat channels. Handling Pandas on my own was impossible. They did let be get back into the raid—one hundred and fifty people were still there—but as soon as I opened my mouth, I got muted and kicked from the channel. They clearly had bigger problems to deal with: Pandorum’s flying thingie, that astral ship, had attacked Cloud Castle.
I was brought round by a rustling, a drawn-out meowing, as something touched me. A big black cat was rubbing itself against my legs.
“Frederic!” I gasped, squatting down, and instinctively patting the disheveled kitty. “Frederic, where’s your mistress?” The cat rubbed against my knee once more, then ran to the door, meowing hoarsely. Then he vanished into the street.
I had no idea whether Frederic was Weldy’s familiar or not; the point was, he was clearly trying to show me the way. Without wasting any time, I followed him. We did not have to walk far. Tracing the nimble black creature, whose fur shone in the moonlight, I reached Lily Square, Eyre’s central square, situated right next to the castle entrance. It was the same spot that the young Err had been crowned two days before. From there, I could hear a hum of voices and other odd noises. I stopped in the shadow of a wall and looked at the cat. He stopped as well, sweeping his tail around belligerently.
“Run away from here, brother,” I whispered to him. Frederic pressed his ears close and arced his back. I got the message—we would have to look for his mistress together. Carefully, I looked out and examined the square. It was pretty crowded. I noticed almost a dozen Pandas, who were standing next to each other near the herald’s stone, a platform in the center of the square. The most prominent was a blue-skinned giant in menacing black armor, who was three heads taller than the rest.
They were surrounded by a lot of NPCs, mostly female. They stood and sat around on the pavement, apathetic, and made no attempt to resist. Many of them were half-dressed and injured. Before my eyes, two mercenaries drove another chain of future slaves into the square. They were bound by a single chain that passed through the eyelets in their collars. The blunt spikes on the insides of their collar must have hurt the NPCs, as their overseers did not even have to prompt them to keep them moving.
The main Panda barked something unclear. A group of female prisoners were brought to the herald’s stone and forced to kneel. One of the mercenaries made a few swings with his sword, and the NPC’s bodies collapsed onto the pavement. The rest of the NPCs did not even flinch, and their expressions remained blank, as if hypnotized.
The blue armored giant pulled out something that glowed a pale yellow in his hand. It was too far away for me to make out whether it was a vial, an artifact, or a magic stone. The item emitted rays of light, and as soon as they fell on the body of a slain NPC, it vanished. A few Pandas were collecting something that remained in place of the vanished bodies. The giant bellowed something again, and mercenaries dragged another batch of bound slaves toward him.
It was time to stop things. I did not know what kind of ritual it was, but it was obvious that the poor NPCs were faced with grim prospects. I could not find Weldy in the crowd, but she could have been in any of the groups intended for sacrifice, if she was still...
The blue sword left its sheath. What had the late mage said? Diya Light, the flaming sword of One of the Seven? My rage grew with every passing minute. That was not why I came here; I had no wish to become a warrior. I was just a newbie with Trading as my strongest skill. But once in a while, there are moments when you cannot stand back and play the coward. This was one of those moments.
I walked out of the shadow and headed over to the square, no longer hiding. My blade was once again lit up with blue fire. The first Fiery Lightning hit a Steel Guard mercenary, who was whipping stumbling NPCs, and it burned him to a crisp. I sped up, zigzagging erratically to complicate their task of aiming at me. One Fiery Lightning after another came loose from my blue blade.
I had one chance, fragile and unlikely—to engage them in a melee and start a mad free-for-all, where I would have the advantage, thanks to my flaming sword. The archers would be afraid of hitting their own, and I, using the wow effect of the charring strike, would cut them all down like Whips at the Tomb of the Necromancer.
I managed to burn two more, and one lightning bolt got deflected by the Steel Guard commander’s shield. Was it also a demonic item without a durability stat? Whatever. I was only steps away from them, and I thought that I recognized Weldy in the crowd of NPCs...
Silencer dealt you 127 damage! Silencer dealt you 184 damage! Pwner dealt you 213 damage with Unseen Blade!
Your HP: 0/380.
You are dying! 60 seconds left till final death! 59...58...57...
A Panda assassin wrapped in black rags up to his eyeballs dropped out of stealth and winked at me, before lowering the curved blades of his scimitars.
Silencer killed you! You are dead.
You lost 6,415 XP. Current XP: 57,735/100,000
You lost Decorated Wooden Sheath.
You lost 40 silver coins.
This is your fourth death today! You are under the effect of Death Penalty: -40% to all attributes. Duration: 3 hours.
Do you wish to re
spawn?
* * *
Jerkhan: Who the hell is this guy?
Jerkhan: How did he do it?
Calter Ego: IDK! He one-shotted us! His thing destroyed my breastplate and my sword.
Whiskey: Jerry, I’ve run him through the net. This dude’s recently killed a team in an inst, they whined about it on the off forum.
Whiskey: They say he’s a bugged sword. They got their stuff back via a petition.
Jerkhan: Tell the guys at the resp point to hold him.
Jerkhan: A petition? Hmm...
* * *
I was having the worst day ever. I wanted to cry and wail, log out of the game and wake up, to realize it was all just a bad dream. But no, this was reality… of sorts.
The resp point in the Upper Quarter was guarded by a Panda team, and a dragon rider was on duty in the air. I had already lost half my equipment over the course of the day and was under a powerful debuff due to the death penalty. What was I to do?
HotCat: Alex, help!
AlexOrder did not reply straight away. He was also among the ranks of Condor’s defenders in the Watchers’ raid.
AlexOrder: Not right now. Pandas have attacked Cloud Castle!
HotCat: Pandas are killing Eyrian NPCs! Enslaving them!
AlexOrder: Cat, we already know that. Tao disabled the guards, son of a bitch.
HotCat: What should I do? Tell me!
AlexOrder: ..........
Furious, I closed the chat window. I had five more Fiery Lightning charges left.
As soon as I left the resp point, I got taken down by a dozen hits. Nobody could have lived through a focused fire from ten players at once. A few seconds of pain, and once again, I was a ghost in a stone circle. The death penalty was now half of my attribute points, and almost all of my equipment was lost or broken.
They would never let me pass, I knew that. The Soul Stone’s cooldown was almost an hour. I had two options left: either stay here or go back to real life. As I turned my face to the sky, I screamed in pain and despair.
CHAPTER 23 BANNED
I did not get a good night’s sleep, not by a long shot. I kept tossing and turning, replaying the events of the previous day in my head, only succumbing to sleep at dawn. I woke up angry and tired. I needed hot coffee. My head was throbbing, as if I had spent the night at a pub. Alena entered the kitchen, while my magic coffee-maker was brewing me a double espresso. She was fresh-faced and coiffed, all dressed up, with Lelya on the leash. As usual, the dog was yapping and growling at me.
“Oksana’s returned from vacation,” my wife said after wishing me a good morning. “I’m thinking of going to visit her and giving her Lelya. We’ll probably watch shots and videos from Nova Cosmo. Do you want to go?”
Could it be that the presence of that muff in our home was coming to an end? Barely able to contain my joy, I shook my head, indicating that I did not want to go. What was the point in upsetting myself watching the photos of a super-trendy orbital hotel that only the moneybags could afford? No thank you.
“Have you heard? Aimi Akada’s coming to our city in June! Oleg, honey... Please buy us tickets! You know I love her!” I nodded sleepily, burning myself with the espresso. The superstar’s concert was the least of my concerns.
Alena left the apartment, her heels tapping along the floor, and I heard the front door slam shut. In a few minutes, the chugging of the engine reached my ears through the window. My darling had driven off.
I opened Sphere’s official forum and clicked the news section. Yep, there was a section about the battle for Eyre, and it already had lots of topics and reports. Kill lists, videos, interviews, more than a thousand comments—everything was in line with my expectations. Sparing the details, the point was simple: the Watcher’s shameful epic fail.
I opened one of the linked kill lists and with a few clicks, formed a general battle report.
Yeah...
It was a sorry sight. The Watchers’ kill rating was in the red, sprinkled with just a drop of green—our kills. Our clan had taken more than a thousand deaths over the course of the day, while the enemies had no more than three hundred.
The financial side of our loss was especially disconcerting. The total sum of equipment that we had lost or dropped exceeded half a million gold. Pandas, PROJECT HELL, and their allies had lost a hundred thousand, but they had won, seizing the battlefield, and had looted both ours and their own dropped stuff. Unlike ours, their losses were recouped. In short, it was a dark day in the Watchers’ history.
The forum was full of people having fun. Shit-stirring had long since become a popular sport on the internet, and some were real experts. The comments were mostly negative. The Watchers and Eyre supporters were whining, while Pandas and local trolls were gloating. People were especially pissed off about Eyre having been captured by PROJECT HELL, NPCs respawn being disabled, and the Steel Guard pillaging the city, complaining about this to administration.
The Pandas just laughed when accused of using bugs and massively linked a banner with the motto “The world of Sphere is a cruel one!” I delved into the details, trying to understand how the events taking place in Eyre could have become possible.
As I already knew, the territory of all worlds in Sphere could be divided into safe zones, mostly safe zones, and “wild” lands. Safe zones were cities, castles, and outposts of NPC kingdoms. There, any aggressors were instantly killed by the guards: special city watch. Still, there were ways around it.
The rest of the kingdoms’ territory was mostly safe. There, aggressors also got pursued by guards, but their response time varied, depending on the distance to the closest settlement. In the borderlands, they could come as much as ten minutes later, enough time to make mincemeat out of a player. Also, attacking inside safe zones was punishable by loss of reputation with the local faction and karma.
Inside the “wild” lands, PvP was not restricted at all: there was no interaction between players and NPCs. You could rob and kill without any backlash. So how could it be, that the capital of a kingdom, an NPC faction, had become mostly safe instead of outright safe? The answer was simple. Apparently, this had always been possible.
Sphere had lots of differently-aligned NPC factions, both “good” and “evil”, ranging from pirate settlements and bandit syndicates to a demon kingdom in the Netherworlds. Some, as legend went, had no faction guards at all, while others were located inside “wild” lands.
The faction control template was the same for all though. All faction leaders could increase or decrease the security level of their kingdom. If the leader wished, a castle with a crowd of guards could be transformed into a bandit den or a PKers’ stronghold, simply by changing the settings. The thing was, that players rarely got the opportunity to rule an NPC faction, and when they did, they were in no hurry to destroy it.
Why did the game need such flexible settings? It allowed the “procedural generator” to create any kind of faction and any kind of people, from dog-headed cannibal savages to enlightened elven plutocracies. Diverse worlds, unorthodox countries, inventive quests—all this was one of Sphere’s main attractions.
What had Tao done? He had disabled the guards, turning Dan-na-Eyre into a “mostly safe” zone. The guards still had to punish transgressions, but the problem was, the city had no guards, and Eyre was in a faction war. All warrior NPCs of the Eyre Nation were part of the army crushed at Old Crossroads.
And so, until they respawned, Pandorum had a day to pillage the city. The worst thing Tao did was disable the NPC’s assigned respawn point. This was an emergency feature used to move the NPC’s home respawn location. Going by the settlement management guides, it was intended to change the original resp spot, when settlers moved to another town. It was odd how quickly Tao had grasped the complicated mechanism of these pretty much service features.
After death, NPCs were revived at their home settlement respawn point 24 hours later. If the respawn point was not set for them (they were not part of a k
ingdom, were exiles, or settlers), they appeared at the respawn point closest to the place of death.
Tao had managed to lay the groundwork to leave Eyrian NPCs without an assigned resp point. This situation was exploited by Pandas to capture and enslave the population. I started to research the circumstances. How could it be that a game, even with an 18+ rating, could be built on such a disgusting system and such weird skills? Why had not the players sued the developers for trauma potentially caused by watching such images? What was that strange ritual conducted by Pandorum mercenaries over the bodies of the NPC slaves? What did they need them for, anyway?
Eventually, I discovered the answer to this question. Only NPCs could be captured and enslaved. Slavery and skills for capturing and controlling slaves had always been present in Sphere. There were even entire NPC kingdoms built on slavery, where it was considered normal, mostly in the Dark Worlds. Still, in most places in the game, slavery was outlawed.
The day before, I saw what it actually looked like: NPCs were forced to wear slave collars on their necks that gave them Slavery Effect and made them completely subservient. After that, the NPCs stopped putting up any resistance. Still, the collar didn’t work with everyone: it depended on characters’ intelligence and charisma. That explained why some NPCs had been killed on the spot.
I found a description of the ritual the Pandas performed with the bodies. It was used to transform NPCs into Dying State and transferred them into a reliquary with a Compress Artifact property, the same mechanism used to pack pawns and carry them inside an inventory. This magic enabled an NPC’s spirit to relocate into a jade statuette and be carried in a bag, like a henchman. That was what Steel Guard mercenaries were doing in Eyre: stuffing their inventories with statuettes of “packed” NPCs. It enabled them to move prisoners in much larger numbers.
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