by Rick Ellrod
Her comrades had remembered! It didn’t matter that she had never met these people; she didn’t even know their true names. The guild chief knew who most of them were IRL, in real life, but their custom was that real identities were not disclosed otherwise, no matter how much they discussed real-life events. Yet they had met so many fictional challenges together and shared so much conversation that they felt like family to her.
Badon whispered her in private mode, A happy day, Rose! I brought along a little something. He passed her a leather jerkin with an impressive array of bonus points. This one, however, was a deep burgundy red.
Dana smiled. My favorite color, you rogue! How did you do that?
As one rogue to another, I called in a favor from Lyrania to dye it a different color.
I’m delighted!
Then I’m suitably rewarded.
Dana grinned. If this were real life, they’d be flirting. In the game, of course, it was all play-acting. One couldn’t even be sure of the gender of the player behind the character, though she had always had a strong feeling Badon was male IRL.
“Everyone’s here who’s going to be, I think,” said Pendragen. “Ready for the next step?”
A chorus of assents. “Up into the mountains,” Badon said. “I think we’re supposed to find a clue up in the pass.”
“We’ll keep our eyes open.”
“Rosmara, you lead off,” Pendragen said. “Since we don’t have a Scout, a Rogue is next best.”
“Aye, aye.” Dana placed Rosmara at the head of the line and proceeded up the path. Vivid browns and oranges dashed the mountainsides rising around them. Clusters of green plants sprouted from the steep slope. The path wound back and forth so they never had a line of sight very far ahead.
Dana spotted a lurking giant spider before it spotted them, and the group made short work of it. Farther along, a snow elemental surprised them. The creature immobilized Archonis with an ice attack and ran Badon’s health down to perilously low levels before Rosmara finished it off with a flurry of strike-from-behind attacks.
“I owe you one there.” Badon bowed to her.
“That makes about forty-seven in all, by my count.”
“It would have helped to have Evanesce along,” Archonis said. “Dark magic does well against snow and ice. What’s she been up to, anyway?”
“I still haven’t heard from her.” Pendragen paused for a moment. “She hasn’t been on for most of a week. Not like her.”
“Maybe she’s got a life,” said Meretreia. “New boyfriend, maybe?”
“Right age for it.” Badon laughed. “She’s a teenager, isn’t she, Pen?”
“True. Well, I’ll follow up later.”
Snowdrifts began to mount above them as they climbed, and their path became a narrow cutting between rock walls crusted with ice. A flashing arrow told Dana Rosmara was sensing something still out of sight. “Trouble coming up.”
In full stealth mode she eased around a rocky bend. “Four dwarven mountaineers guarding a tunnel on the right. They haven’t seen me yet. They’re about our level. Yellow.” Yellow-labeled creatures might be either friendly or hostile.
Archonis struck a martial pose. “We can take them, then, unless they’ve got backup.”
“Should we talk first?” asked Meretreia.
“Yes—we want information,” Pendragen said. “Come on back; we’ll try going in openly.”
“But stay stealthed if you can, Rosmara, in case we need to fight after all.”
Badon’s voice was casual, but he had a strong tendency to find ways to keep Rosmara out of danger. It wasn’t a very practical reflex in a combat-based game, but it was rather endearing—one of the gallant gestures that made him seem distinctly masculine.
The mountaineers did not attack immediately. Pendragen, the character with the highest charisma score, opened conversation with the nearest dwarf. We come in peace.
The dwarf brandished his axe. Who are you, and what do you want?
Three responses came up on the screen.
1. Stand aside! We will have speech with your chieftain.
2. We are travelers on a mission from King Harro, and wish to speak with your chieftain.
3. We are humble travelers who beg your indulgence and a chance to rest.
“Middle of the road?” asked Pendragen. There was a murmur of assent. He chose the second option.
The dwarves let out a roar and each displayed a different word balloon. Kill them! –We have had enough of the king’s taxes! –Show no mercy! Their labels changed to red and they moved forward. Smoothly Badon and Pendragen, the melee fighters, met them. From farther back, Archonis began to cast a spell. Meretreia chose to commence a song.
Dana herself, still undetected by the enemy, moved carefully around to the dwarves’ side and dazed two of them without being detected.
“Guess they're not middle-of-the-road types after all,” said Pendragen. Many more dwarves were emerging from the tunnel entrance, their battle cries rising above the synthesized sounds of clashing steel. “This isn’t good.”
“Yeah,” said Badon. “Maybe we’d better break off.”
“Right. Disengage, everyone. Arc, cover us.”
A grey fog formed in front of the players. The group backed up, their enemies fading into the mist. As soon as they were slightly ahead of pursuit the players turned around and ran back down the trail.
“I don’t see getting through there.” Archonis sounded irritated. “Too many of them, and they all aggro at once.”
“Don’t we have to?” Badon said. “The last clue we got said we needed information from them, right?”
They paused to consult quest logs and individual notes. “It said we needed information we’d get up in the mountains,” Dana corrected. “Maybe they’re not the ones who have it.”
Meretreia asked, “Can we get past them and continue through the pass?”
Pendragen inched to one side to get a view as far as possible around the curve of the trail. “I don’t think so. The pass isn’t wide enough to stay out of range.”
Dana thought about it. “Maybe there’s a way to get around them. Merry, you have Legend Lore, right? Is there any information about other paths further back?”
Bards had a chance to recall information from the lore or myths of the world. In practice this required both luck and search skills, since the bard player actually had to formulate a search query fed to the Heroes’ Calling legends database, and even then had only a limited chance of success. The group waited while Meretreia’s blonde, curly-haired ’toon sank to the ground to sit in Zen fashion, portraying deep thought
At length she rose again. “There is another path! Back behind us a ways. It’s a hidden tunnel into the mountain.” Pleased chuckles came from the others.
“Worth a try.” Pendragen turned around. “Off we go!”
****
The entrance they had missed turned out to be hidden in plain sight. An inconspicuous rocky protrusion, when viewed from the proper angle, revealed a gap. The band entered the cavern, arrayed themselves in appropriate order with the melee fighters or “tanks” in the lead, and went on into the mountain.
They did not encounter the dwarven mountaineers, but other minor obstacles guarded the path. Dealing with these was routine enough for Dana and Badon to have a chance to type back and forth.
Badon sent, Been imagining you having a good day—hope it’s true.
Boring morning, relaxing afternoon. This is the fun part.
Glad to hear! But I’d hate to think the rest was all mundane. Get any gardening in?
Dana paused to smite a particularly stubborn opponent. Not today. Had to work earlier, then took a nap.
Alas. Forsythia out yet?
Oh, yes. Full bloom. Waiting for the azaleas to start.
About at the same stage in this neck of the woods.
They were in the same climate zone, Dana knew. She paused to readjust her character’s combat settings, th
en typed: Finished the latest Jay Roman book. Good one!
Yes. Lot of complications in Eremar this time. Everybody seemed to be going through something traumatic. Or silly. Or both.
Dana smiled. Yeah. But I liked the way you get a feel for the City. It’s like another character itself.
Yes. Reminded me of Dickens’s London.
Really? I don’t know Dickens much. Read Tale of Two Cities in high school, couldn’t get into it.
Of course, London didn’t have a spaceport. Or zoos concealing sentient beings.
I’m fond of the gallant armadillo myself. Dana grinned.
The eccentric characters remind me of Dickens, mostly. Stylized almost to caricature, but orbiting around a couple of normal people to keep it centered.
Everyone seemed to be talking about Dickens today. But Badon made it sound almost intriguing. So you see me curled up by a roaring fire with a cup of tea and a Dickens book?
Sure. Wildest characters you’ve ever seen. Heroes, villains, saints, buffoons; compassion, low comedy, melodrama, social conscience—you name it.
She trusted Badon’s recommendations; their tastes usually ran together. What should I try first?
There was a pause on the other end. Dana imagined Badon looking over his library. Personally, I like Little Dorrit; I’m half in love with the heroine. Or Our Mutual Friend. But it might be easiest to get into David Copperfield.
Dana would find it very interesting to see what sort of heroine Badon found attractive. A little investigation for discussion purposes might not be a bad idea. I’ll try Little D, maybe. I can find it at my local library?
For sure. Unless they’ve gone through another round of budget cuts. The library here has been getting rid of the classics to make room for more popular books.
The same thing had been happening in Dana’s library. Yes, I know what you mean. I’ll find it one way or another.
Right. There’s no way to keep a rogue from her target!
She smiled. It was good to be on the same wavelength.
****
The tunnels took them down under the mountain, then leveled off. An underground river flowed through a large cavern, which appeared to be empty of enemies. In the river, though, was some sort of creature. Advancing cautiously, they saw it was a large fish.
“Carp, I think. Everybody bring your fishing poles?” Archonis brandished his own.
The fish popped up a word balloon. Greetings, travelers. Rest your weary bones (but not too long).
“Ah, a smart fish. Don’t get out the cooking gear right away.” Dana moused over the creature, and laughed when she saw the label. “It’s the Carp of Doom!”
“You must be kidding.” Pendragen chuckled. The dialogue balloon showed several options. A check mark appeared next to Why are you called The Carp of Doom? Should I be afraid—very afraid?
The fish flipped its tail and its front fins wiggled. No such thing. This is doom not in the sense of danger, but of destiny. Think fate, not fatality.
“A wise fish, an educated fish. Let’s see if it has some answers for us.” Pendragen clicked back to the initial dialogue options.
What’s fate going to mean here? Dana typed to Badon. The Fate of the World Depends On Us?
Or the Dread Fate That Awaits You If You Continue.
Pendragen checked the response What do you mean, “not too long”?
The carp answered, Your quarry draws ahead while you tarry in the dark.
“Hmm.” Pendragen selected What do you know of our quarry?
I know what I have seen, said the fish. Princess Aurelie was brought through these caves not long since. Those with her were moving swiftly. They will not be easy to overtake.
There was only one dialogue option, and Pendragen clicked it. Why didn’t you stop them?
The carp replied, What could I do? I’m a fish!
Dana smiled. “You know, he’s got a point there.”
“He could have made at least a small scale attempt to do something,” Badon said.
“I’m going to gill you for that one,” Dana vowed.
“I thought so.” Satisfaction showed in Archonis’s voice. “The clue wasn’t with the mountaineers at all.”
There was one conversation option showing. Can we persuade you to tell us which way they went, O Carp?
The fish replied, I do have this curious appetite for gold…If you should happen to have any small pieces of that metal about you…
“All right, open your pocketbooks,” said Pendragen. “Pay the nice fish and we’ll be on our way.”
Gold was exchanged, and the carp said, If you wish to follow them, follow the river as it leaves this cavern. Where a tunnel breaks off to the right and leads upward, take it. Beware of dangers on the path. Once it has leveled off, take another branch rightward to the surface.
“Clear directions for once.” Badon gave a cheer. “I like it. Onward, up the carpal tunnel!”
Dana wished very much that Badon were physically present. She’d like to throw something solid at him…
****
Several pitched battles and many furlongs of tunnel later, the group emerged on the other side of the mountains, facing a sparse forest sloping downward over rocky ground. Pendragen rotated his character to scan the vista. “We may have to cast around a bit to pick up the scent.”
“What’s up with Rogann anyway? A cleric would have been really useful back there.” Archonis sounded annoyed.
“It’s a couple weeks since he’s been on.” Dana didn’t think Rogann had said anything about a vacation or other interruption. “Haven’t heard what’s keeping him.”
“I don’t know, either,” said Pendragen. “Let’s break here for the night. It’s getting pretty late in my time zone. Maybe we’ll be able to get him in for the next session.”
As the players went through the routine of making camp, Dana saw a whispered message from Pendragen in the chat box. Rosmara, can I talk to you separately?
Sure.
Hang on just a moment.
She agreed and took Rosmara through the necessary clean-up steps while she was waiting.
Dana, Pendragen wrote, I’m a little concerned about Evanesce and Rogann. Neither of them has been on in almost two weeks. That’s okay, but usually they let me know if they’re going to be offline for a long time. It was common courtesy in their guild, since one player’s plans also affected others. I haven’t heard a thing, and no one else has either.
I see what you mean.
I was worried enough that I tried calling Rogann on the phone, and sent some e-mails outside the game. Still haven’t gotten an answer.
Dana frowned. I’d hate to think something was wrong. What do you want to do?
You live pretty near them. I’d like you to go by and visit. It’s not our usual way, but in this case I think it’s more important to find out whether there’s any trouble.
It was unusual, all right. Dana couldn’t recall any similar case. Where are they?
City of Marien. You’re in the same part of the state, right? I’m not close enough myself. Pendragen lived in eastern Canada. Can you do it?
With her car in the shop, the trip would not be easy to arrange. But Dana hated to leave a friend in the lurch. And she liked to think of herself as game for anything; a little too much so, her real-life friends sometimes said. Yes, Kirk, I think I can manage it. May take a little while to arrange.
Is there a chance you could make it Sunday afternoon? That gives you the best chance to catch Rogann when he’s not at work.
Dana didn’t want to disappoint him. I’ll make it happen.
Great. Let me give you the address…
****
…There’s the address; you can map it online, Pendragen whispered to Jeff. I hate to impose, but you’re one of the few people who live anywhere near Rogann.
Jeff nodded to himself. Sunday afternoon it is, then. If they have trouble of some kind, maybe we can help somehow.
It does seem unlikely, but I think we should make the effort.
Pendragen’s loyalty to his compatriots was one of the things Jeff liked about the guild. So do I. I’ll try and keep you posted.
Good. Talk to you later.
Only after Jeff signed off did he remember his car was in no shape for a long trip. He would have to deal with that tomorrow.
He was pleased, though, that Rosmara had seemed to be enjoying her birthday. They’d had a pleasant chat about books. And he had done a much better job of defending Dickens than he’d done at the garage earlier in the day. Of course, it wasn’t surprising if he’d been more successful with Rosmara. She was bound to understand better than Dana Roland.
Chapter 4
By ten o’clock Sunday Jeff’s car had already stalled out twice, and he had only been awake since eight. Dana was rolling up the garage door as he pulled in, and she motioned him into the bay, smothering a yawn. She must have been up late, too. The engine died again as he brought the car to a stop.
“You are a good prophet of doom.” Jeff leaned out the window. “This is the third time it’s failed this morning.”
“Oh, joy.” Dana sighed. “Open the hood…Hold on a second…Try turning it on…Okay, turn it off.” She opened the door from outside and reached past him to plug a lead into something under the dashboard. Jeff caught a faint freshly-washed scent. She went back around to the front.
He climbed out of the car and resumed his favorite position leaning on the workbench. There was a pause. Jeff’s eyelids drooped. The engine roared to life, and his eyes snapped open again. The rough sound of the engine slackened, smoothed out.
“Turn it off, please.” Dana reappeared from behind the hood and leaned against the side of the car. “It’s getting worse, but if you’re careful you should be able to limp along for a few errands today. I’ve put in a request for your pre-injector ring on the Web. In a few more days…”
“I don’t have a few days.” Jeff ran his hands through his hair. “I’ve got to go out of town.”
“There’s a bus terminal over on Whistler Street.”
He shook his head. “No good. I need to see someone who lives in the suburbs. I’d never make the connections on a weekend schedule. Assuming the bus runs anywhere near.”