by Charles Dean
“Just now crawling out of bed at one in the afternoon? Sucking down your first Red Bull for the day and getting ready for some serious gamer updates? Welcome to G.O.R.N’s midday update. I’m Ryan, and this enchanting lady next to me is our special guest of the day, Kass,” Ryan began, his tone and mannerisms instantly changing into that of an affable, nice guy you might want to have a drink with at the bar. It was creepy how fast he transitioned.
Can you be more of a caricature? Kass wanted to say, but bit her tongue. Instead, she just returned his fake smile and answered, “Pleasure to be here, Ryan. Thank you again for having me on.”
“Glad to have you. Now, for astute detail-oriented gamers out there who have been watching the clips from earlier, you may already recognize Kass and know why we have her on our daytime talk segment. That’s because this young lady is the same lady that was riding the Hydra during the famous White-Wing beach battle that has been on everyone’s tongue. Oh, and by the way, I have to ask, how was the footing? Were the scales slimy or slippery from the water?”
“It was actually really easy to stand on. The texture of the Hydra’s exterior gave me more grip than soccer cleats usually do.” Kass kept her smile, but she was already starting to mentally brace herself. Something told her that this was going to go from a nice and friendly interview to something ugly really quick. Dad was right. I shouldn’t be here, her instincts started to scream.
“Now, for players who might not know this, that Hydra she was riding was an altered version of the Hydra that players have to defeat if they want to use the shortcut from the Human to the White-Horn lands,” he said, straight to the camera before turning to Kass. “So, tell me, how is it that you managed to get your hands on one and use it as a mount?”
“Well, actually, I didn’t exactly do that. It was the guild leader who--“
“Right, the guild leader,” Ryan interrupted her. “This is, of course, the guild leader of the newly registered faction, StormGuard Alliance, right?”
“Yes, we’ve only been around--”
“And do you have any confirmation of whether or not this is an offshoot of the one from Emerald Gardens? Was this guild made by an existing member of the massively popular online role playing game, Emerald Gardens, or is it a copycat?” He pressed her, never letting her really complete a thought.
“The guild leader is actually from that guild. He said that he was a high up member in the--” Kass tried her best to answer, but it was fruitless. Ryan was only asking her questions as a way of pretending to extract information, but he already had all the answers. She was his prop, not a person he was interviewing.
“Right, the guild leader, his name is Darwin if I’m not mistaken?”
“Well . . .” Kass was starting to feel more and more uncomfortable.
“Because, as you can see, we’ve looked at the footage and been able to put together a face, here, that we believe is a very accurate representation of the character in the game. Now, other than the red eyes, this face matches up with a famous raid leader from the StormGuard Alliance in Emerald Gardens who recently was reported missing by the police,” Ryan said as he gestured to an imaginary square next to his head where a photo of Darwin would be digitally inserted.
“By the police?” Kass interrupted him for a change, getting her question in before he could continue his thoughts.
“That’s right, Kass, by the police,” he stressed the word police. “You see, around 10:00 p.m. on Christmas Eve, police investigated reports of gunshots in a relatively nice neighborhood. What they found was absolutely shocking. These here are some of the gruesome images from the crime scene. They’re censored but nevertheless graphic, and some viewers may find them quite disturbing.” He pointed to the imaginary square next to his head again, but Kass could see them on a monitor in front of her. Part of the first image was intentionally pixilated, but what was displayed was still clearly a human head, crushed in by what must have been a baseball bat or something larger so many times that the entire skull was caved in.
“What does that have to do with Darwin?” Kass stared at the pictures of the crushed face as they cycled through.
“Well, upon investigating the crime scene, police were able to identify the body as that of a serial burglar and rapist, but did not find any traces of the person who lived there. The only tenant, a man by the name of Darwin, disappeared that night while leaving his game of Emerald Gardens on. His character, Arch Lance Ser NightVale of the StormGuard Alliance, was monitored, but he never signed on from a new or existing location. That’s why police were very interested when we began our investigation of your guild.”
Kass shifted in her seat. This wasn’t a news interview--this was an interrogation with a camera rolling--but she couldn’t take her eyes off the still floating picture of the dead body. What happened? What did you do, Darwin? The question kept rolling around in her head. This can’t be you, Darwin. You wouldn’t do things like this. At first, she rebelled against the idea, but then remembered that this wasn’t the first time she had attempted to console herself with that line of thought. “No . . .” she barely whispered, still in shock.
“Actually, yes. We know that he just defended himself from a burglar in a break-in, that there aren’t any legal ramifications for his actions, but both the police and G.O.R.N. are wondering if this is the same m--” Ryan stopped suddenly and pressed his finger into the earpiece as if to make sure he was hearing everything correctly.
“What’s going on?” Kass asked, looking around as two men in very professionally-tailored black suits came popping out from behind the cameras in front of her like she was stuck in a tacky action movie or spy thriller.
“I’m sorry gamers, but we have to cut this interview short. We’ll resume air after these brief messages,” Ryan smiled to the camera, and then, when the light gave him the signal, he got up and bolted towards the producer’s box.
“What’s going on?” Kass repeated, not understanding what was happening.
“Kass, this is the producer again,” the voice that had counted down the segment said. “These men were sent by Charles. They are going to escort you to a meeting. I’m told that this is not the type of escort you should try to turn down.”
Kass, scared stiff, looked at all the men. She slowly stood up, but she had no idea what was going on. As she took out her earpiece and laid it on the counter, she found herself looking for exits, trying to find a single escape route that wasn’t blocked.
“Please rest assured, miss, no one here means you any harm,” one of the men said. “We’re merely here to bring you to meet a very important friend. Someone we’re told you are acquainted with. Charles said it was a top priority to bring you to the introduction.”
She, seeing no real alternatives, started walking with them, still looking around for a viable exit strategy, but there was none. This Charles fellow, whose name sounded incredibly familiar, was obviously more well-connected than the average person. Even the producer and the staff were apologizing to the two men as they left, saying stuff like ‘We had no idea’ and ‘We’re so sorry. We’ll cut the piece immediately.’
“It’s a long drive, miss,” one of them said to her as they exited the building. “We can pick something up for you to eat on the way if you like.”
“No, I’m okay,” she said. What she meant was: ‘this is freaking me out too much for me to be worried about food.’
Darwin:
Darwin made his way to the back of the dungeon after the celebration and festivities died down. He didn’t consciously choose to, but before he even realized where his feet were taking him, he was halfway down the stairs that Stephanie had said led to the portal room. They were a flight of spiraling stairs, and oddly for this particular dungeon, there was an actual walled room with a door at the end. He opened the door to discover Stephanie sitting in a nice, red leather computer chair and playing a Game Boy next to a giant sheet of what looked like moving obsidian, rippling up and down and even pop
ping in some places.
“Hey, where did you get the--”
“Shh--” Stephanie cut him off before he could finish the sentence. Just from the music alone, he recognized what game it was: one of his favorite 2D, plumber-oriented platformers.
Darwin sat there, waiting a few minutes, knowing better than to bother a gamer until she was finished.
“Okay, I’m finished,” she said, turning it off and throwing it into her pocket. As she stood up, he couldn’t help but notice that her outfit had changed. She had gone from the bubbly cheerleader look to just a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt. “Are you finished?”
“Huh? I wasn’t the one playing,” Darwin replied, slightly confused, but then he understood her question. “Yeah. Yeah, we finished up. It went pretty well. We lost some good men, but overall it was a resounding triumph.”
“Great! Well, the portal is all set up. All we have to do now to get home is walk through it. I actually finished a bit ago, but you guys sounded like you were having fun when I went to get you, so I just figured I’d play some games and wait,” Stephanie said cheerfully. “That was totally hard by the way . . . The waiting, I mean. Not you.”
“Well, should we do something first? Go get the others so we can all head out at once? Grab a big stockpile of Gold? Or do we just walk through? Wait, is there a ritual or some sort of fancy item we need to get through?”
“Oh, yeah!” Stephanie looked down, fumbled around her pockets for a minute as if she were looking for a key, then grabbed Darwin’s hand and yanked him with her through the portal.
It felt odd at first, like he had just submerged himself in water, but the water was more dense. In fact, if anything, it was a mix between slowly sliding into a pool of water and running into a sheet of cold tinfoil. He instinctively closed his eyes as it happened, but when he got around to opening them he knew at once it was a success. He found himself inside a room so big that to call it an airport hanger would be an understatement. The room was large enough to house every dungeon and town he had been to and then have room for more. It was empty and bare with what appeared to be metal plate sides that one might expect on an airport hanger and an overly-reinforced black metal roof that was littered with white squares that seemed to provide the lighting for the room. The portal had worked. The only problem was the sinking feeling in Darwin’s stomach that he had gone from out of the frying pan and into the fire.
Inside the nearly-empty room was a series of tables adorned with white tablecloths and silver trays containing a rather diverse offering of different kinds delicious foods from cheesecakes and steaks to cereals and omelettes. The edibles were all lined out around one medium-sized, circular mahogany table with four place settings. At the head, sitting at the place facing the portal, there was a tall, blonde-haired man in a pin-striped suit drinking tea.
As he saw Darwin walk through the portal, he put down the tea, stood up, brushed off his legs and walked around the table to greet Darwin.
“My apologies,” he said, extending a hand for Darwin. “I totally forgot my manners and started without the guest of honor. My name is Charles. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ll be your host for as long as you see fit.”
“I’m . . . I’m Darwin,” Darwin answered hesitantly. It wasn’t that he was nervous, which he knew he probably should be, but it was that the entire experience had left him at a loss for words. That, and the fact that he had no idea what was going on.
“Well, Darwin, I must say that given the experiences I’m sure you’ve just had, I can only imagine what you’re feeling right now, but, for the moment, would you like to sit down for a bite to eat? A cup of tea perhaps?” Charles offered, walking back to his place at the table, but waiting for his guests before sitting.
“Yes,” Darwin answered, finding himself incredibly conflicted. He wanted to seem professional in front of this obviously very powerful stranger, but on the other hand, he desperately wanted to change out the cup of tea for his favorite soda. “Yes, a cup of tea sounds great. Earl Grey, please.”
“Psh, forget you two classy farts,” Stephanie laughed, walking over to an empty chair and sitting in it with deliberate nonchalance. “Give me a few cans of the nearest soft drink, and someone fetch me something with cheese, sugar, grease or all of the above. I’ve been eating nothing but barbecued meat for what feels like forever. I demand sugar!”
Charles and Darwin both found themselves chuckling as they took their seats. “Actually, double what she’s having for me, and give the same to Darwin,” Charles said to a waiter who seemed to slip out of nowhere. “Let’s make this as casual a first meeting as possible.” Charles smiled as he held his tie to his chest and sat down. “Now, before the food gets here and our final guest arrives, there are some important things I think I need to fill you in on.”
Darwin cracked open the soda the waiter brought him as he watched the other men arranging food from the buffet onto plates for them. Then, exchanging a glance with Stephanie, he found himself wondering, Wait, I’m missing something. Why is it that everyone is looking at Stephanie, but no one is turning to stone? What have I walked into?
Reliquary
The Monster Manual:
Beetle-Bee: With one horn in the front and one horn in the back, the four-foot-long Beetle-Bee is deadly from both ends. Its favorite method of attacking is using its wings to propel it into its foe horn first and swinging its stinger into the enemy as soon as impact occurs.
Strengths: Japanese gambling games, flower collecting.
Weaknesses: Strong winds, alcohol (A drunk Beetle-Bee is more sad than deadly.).
Black Bear: Sometimes a bear is just a bear, and that’s all there is to it. With nothing but muscles, claws and an appetite greater than its cuteness, beware of the bear.
Strengths: Bear arms, salmon, napping.
Weaknesses: Honeypots, bees, overnapping.
Blue-Drakes: Contrary to popular belief, the color of the drake’s skin does not change the element it shoots out of its mouth. Instead, it just makes it harder to spot on a nice sunny day with a clear blue sky. Acting as a sort of camouflage, the blue scales help it sneak up on unsuspecting forest creatures when the drake decides it is time for a barbeque. A very handy trick to have on a Saturday afternoon.
Strengths: Doesn’t ever need a lighter, wingmen often have actual wings, can disco dance with amazing talent.
Weaknesses: The Blue-Drake will often accidently burn its own TV when watching sports due to the difficulty of controlling flames while cheering.
Bumba-Ant: This four foot tall goat horn equipped black and yellow ant is constantly struggling to stay alive in the cruel world that made it. It’s too large to sneak away with picnic food unnoticed and too big to survive on the small amount of food the queen gives out. That’s why, unlike any of the other species of ants, this particular one has given up on perfect structure and order, and formed a union: one that spans the entire species, protecting the innocent workers from the tyranny of the queens.
Strengths: Building stuff, especially sand castles.
Weakness: Magnifying glasses.
The Burglar: If you’ve ever had to pay money for locks, a security system and theft insurance, you can thank this mob. Adverse to hard work and determined to take that which is not theirs, the only thing worse than their impact on family vacations is their often awful fashion sense and insistence on wearing women’s lingerie and ski attire for masks.
Strengths: Good at acting dangerous to pick up less than intelligent mates.
Weaknesses: Dogs, police officers, angry mothers.
Deer-Frog: Old men aren’t the only ones who are horny when they croak; so are the Deer Frogs. Their creepy, giant googly-eyes are always following their prey. For those who aren’t careful, a quick tongue will latch onto its victim and pull the giant man-sized frog straight into its prey--or the other way around, depending on who is heavier--leaving its antlers firmly planted in its victim.
Strengths: Giant man-size
d flies, beer commercials, tap dancing.
Weaknesses: Fire, ice.
Demon-Mole: They have all the standard red, beady-eyed attributes of a demon, but they are moles. Raised on a diet of guacaMole, aniMole crackers and Mole-assus, one has more to fear from their imMole-ating abilities than their Mole-ars, though both can ensure a disMole fate for a foe.
Strengths: Spying, sneaking behind enemy lines, making a black spot on someone’s skin.
Weaknesses: 6.02 x 10^23
Devil-Moose: The Devil-Moose actually used to be called the Angel-Moose and was renown for attempting to save everyone it could. That is of course, until it found out that it was no longer included in its nations ‘Free Health Care’ policies. The cursed governor put in a clause that made it for only Humans, driving the Angel-Moose down the road to darkness, where they have since lived. Hunting, killing, and murdering the people who took away their excellent dental plan are these guys new pastimes.
Strengths: It is great at telling jokes that are, a-moose-ing.
Weakness: Always stops for maple syrup.
Editor: Died during the making of this book from facepalming too hard while trying to clean up the book’s grammar. May or may not have been from a Hemingway-like stupor.
FlamAntis: These giant, fiery praying mantis-like creatures are constantly honing their killing ability with the precision of a martial artist. Each day they live in this world of harrowing hatred for their kind is a trial. Each day of which they reach the end, a success. Their skills in combat are only surpassed by their long lifespan, a necessary attribute for the continuation of their species. After all, it takes years of being single for a male praying mantis to accept what will happen to him right after he mates. Maybe, just maybe, if one of the grooms didn’t ask their new bride to go make him a ham sandwich, they wouldn’t all end up dead.