by Brian Simons
“If you stand for what you speak, then please help us. To live underground should be a choice, and it is not. Liberate us.”
“I will do everything I can to set this right, King Rumin.”
“Thank you,” he said. “My son will show you back the way you came. When you need to visit us, please use this.” The king handed Sybil a large teleport orb.
Sybil followed the minotaur prince through the underground maze, every inch of which was now visible. When they got to the stairs, they said goodbye to their royal escort.
“I only understood some of that,” Daniel said. “I take it he was speaking elvish?”
“Yes,” Sybil said. “A lot happened back there. I’ll recount it for you later. In a nutshell, I unlocked a new songbook. I learned the song Shadowshatter. I have a quest now, to restore minotaur control of the Aster Mountains. And I have a title now.”
“What!?” Daniel was shocked. It normally took players hundreds of levels and years in the game to obtain a title.
“I’m now Last Hope of the Minotaurs,” she said with a shrug. “Let’s see how Sage Tawn takes the news.”
33
Sal helped push the other ogres out of the tent and closed the flap. He sat with Coral on the ground, with a pot of stew between them and a pile of unused cockroach parts in the corner.
“Sal,” Coral said, slurping soup directly from the ladle, “this is really good!”
“Thanks,” he said, lowering his trusty flagon from his face. “That must be why I won.” A broad smile stretched across his face. There were a few gaps, but now Coral could appreciate that he had more teeth than the average ogre.
“I got a ton of XP, for sure. But for coming in first place, I also get a prize from the King at an award ceremony tonight,” Sal said. “Meanwhile, it looks like you’ve been pretty busy here.”
“Somehow I started my own boutique,” Coral said.
“Are you the one that made that hideous cockroach shirt? That was brilliant! I saw Varta walking around with it.”
“Who is Varta?”
“She’s the king’s oldest daughter and a general in his army.”
“I had no idea I had attracted such high profile clientele,” Coral said.
Just then a green-skinned man opened the flap to their tent. “No more clothes for today, man,” Sal said. “Sorry.”
“My name is Bergg, and I’m not here for clothes,” he said. “I’m here to talk about spices.”
“You speak refreshingly clearly,” Coral said.
“I speak human when I find others who do. I take it you don’t speak ogrish?” Bergg said.
“I don’t.” Coral realized that the ogres she met weren’t as uneducated as she thought. On the contrary, they seemed to have learned a few words in her own language while she didn’t know a word of their native tongue.
“OgreEater,” Bergg continued, “the stew you made. Did I detect juvensprig?”
“Yes,” Sal answered.
“Do you have extra?”
“You could say that. I was planning to keep it though.”
“I don’t have any money to give you,” Bergg said, “but if you give me some of that herb I will teach you to make a salve from it. I would like to use some of that salve myself.”
“Go on,” Sal said. His face seemed skeptical.
“Juvensprig is more than just a delicious flavoring. When prepared correctly it can reduce respawn time to zero. That means, once you harvest or slay something, a new one will appear instantly. With a little bit of that salve, I can ensure the ogres never starve. I can produce enough food to feed us all in very little time.”
“And what’s in it for you?” Sal asked.
“I didn’t say I would give the food away for free. You know as well as I do that early winters can cut off food production here to disastrous effect. I’ll make some money off it, and people will have food available. It’s a win-win. And you, you get some of the salve too. I won’t ask what you use it for.”
“This salve,” Coral said, “can it save someone like Sal from dying in battle?” For instance, against their crazy axe-wielding nemesis?
Bergg looked hard at Sal. “No, because he would reincarnate, which is a different process than respawning. The herb only works on respawn time, to bring a living thing back from death with no time lapse in between.”
Coral’s mind was racing trying to process the potential of juvensprig salve. “When you say death, what do you mean?”
Bergg and Sal looked at Coral, confused by a question with such an obvious answer. “When HP hits zero,” Bergg said.
“What if I used the salve on a mob with zero HP, but its body hasn’t vanished yet?” Coral asked.
“I believe,” Bergg said, “it would respawn where its body already is. It would essentially come back to full HP right there.”
“How sure are you of that?” Coral asked.
“Not sure at all,” Bergg said. “I’m hard pressed to think of a scenario where that would happen.”
“Sal,” Coral said, “we should make the trade. I may have an idea.”
“Ok,” Sal said. He removed four pieces of juvensprig from his bag. “Here you go. How long before you have the salve for us?”
“It needs to steep overnight. I’ll have it in the morning,” Bergg said.
“How do you make it?” Coral asked.
Bergg looked at her a long moment. “You don’t have the herblore for it. You need to boil a small amount of river water and steep the herbs for 8 hours. Then grind them up in the water as it cools, and mix it with paste until it’s thick.” He took the herbs and left the tent.
“I don’t like that guy,” Sal said. “He’s going to wait for people to be near starving and then profit off of them.”
“I know,” Coral said. “But I think the salve will help us with the armor we need for the Regent. And if we fail there, Otto may slaughter all of the ogres before the winter even arrives.”
“Let’s head to the main tent for the award ceremony,” Sal said. “Hopefully I won something good.”
Now that Bergg was gone, Coral had a chance to ask Sal more about the languages of Travail. As they walked toward the big tent, she said, “I didn’t realize there were different languages here. Is ‘human’ the same as English?”
“‘Human’ is whatever language humans speak in-game. The nanos translate everything inside your head. So if someone spoke Russian to you, you’d understand it as long as they were playing a human. If they were playing a different race, they’d speak elvish, or ogrish, or dwarven, which means you’d only understand bits and pieces of what they were saying.”
“But you seem to know human and ogrish. How is that?”
“You don’t actually have to ‘learn’ these languages. The more time you spend someplace, the more the game allows you to communicate with the people there. I’ve spent a lot of time in Havenstock. If you stick around here, you’ll be fluent in ogrish in no time.”
That was comforting. Coral didn’t like feeling like a self-entitled foreigner, speaking human to people everywhere she went regardless of the local tongue.
A notification on the world chat reminded Coral that their detour in the Ogrelands would be short-lived.
>> Januar has descended from the sky near Havenstock. Visit him now for blessings and holy tidings! Appearance duration: 5 minutes. Countdown to Januar’s renewal: 2 days.
She and Sal walked into the same big tent they had been in earlier that day, but now instead of throngs of ogres in a chaotic huddle, there were chairs facing the front of the tent and a small stage set up. On the stage stood perhaps the fattest man Coral had ever seen. His green belly protruded three feet from his hips. It didn’t droop or sag, it just jutted out, like he was holding a large box in front of him covered in green skin and filled with body fat. Next to him stood Varta in her new cockroach vest.
Coral and Sal took seats in the front row. The King addressed the crowd, “Ogres! Food test! Prize
to OgreEater!” Whatever the King said sounded to her like the most broken of English. To Sal, it must have sounded regal and eloquent. Sal stood and walked toward the stage to accept his award.
“Coral_Darning!” Varta yelled. She ran off the stage and stood in front of Coral, thumping on her vest with her fists. “Coral_Darning make!” she exclaimed and grabbed Coral’s hand, lifting her up out of her seat and turning her to face the crowd. Coral saw a sea of green faces. Not a single human was in this crowd. She thought her reception in the Ogrelands would be more hostile than this, but she noticed a few people in the crowd wearing clothing she had made earlier, and they clapped for her. Varta sat next to Coral and the ceremony began.
“OgreEater good stew,” the King said. “Prize.” Sal bowed his head for a second. Then he simply said, “Thank you, King.” Coral wondered if the prize was something she couldn’t see. Then the King looked out over the crowd. His eyes seemed to focus in one place though. Coral turned and saw someone approaching. He was on the short side, with a slender frame and pale skin. Pointy ears poked out from under his shaggy white hair. His ears looked like Sybil’s, but not lavender. He was an elf.
He strode toward the King with no apparent fear or deference. He simply climbed onto the stage, looked the King in the eye and handed him a scroll. The King unfurled it and stared for two long minutes at the paper. He let it fall from his hands and he curled up his fists. The elf then pointed at Coral and walked off the stage again, exited the tent, and was gone.
Sal bent down to pick up the scrolled paper. He glanced up at the King, then over to Coral. “Run!” he said.
Varta looked confused for a moment. Then the King yelled something out to the crowd. Varta looked at Coral and said, “Sorry, friend.” Varta made no attempt to stop Coral as she jumped up and ran toward the nearest canvas wall. The rest of the crowd, however, was on their feet and moving toward her quickly. Sal had jumped down from the stage and ran as well. He stuck out the handle of his mallet and charged toward the tent siding like a knight with a jousting lance.
Sal rammed so hard into the canvas tent wall that he pulled the tent down with him. The canvas tugged at the tent’s frame until it gave out, causing an avalanche of heavy cloth to fall on everyone in the tent. Ogres threw their hands up to push the material off of themselves as they kept rushing forward.
Coral and Sal were close to the fabric’s end, and they found their way out of the tent and ran. They dodged past small tents and large, and sped past a few ogres that seemed confused by the hubbub. Then they heard a loud horn blare a single deep note across the tented kingdom. Ogres emerged from their tents, some of whom seemed to intuit that the pale skinned brunette running wildly through their streets was the problem at hand. The chase was on.
They ran and ran through a labyrinth of tent clusters and dead ends. This place could use a city planner. Sal took the lead and Coral followed him. Left down this alley, right down that one. Until at last they saw open space ahead of them. They ran without looking back until Coral ran out of stamina and collapsed on the grass outside the Ogrelands. She thought she might black out from exhaustion.
Sal stopped and turned toward her. He was still clutching the scroll the elf had given the King. “It’s written in ogrish,” he said. “So I’ll read it to you. It says:”
Dearest King Ploth of the Ogrelands,
You may have assumed that you can hide your actions from the Queen. You assumed wrong. Harboring a non-ogre in your territory threatens Her ordained order and flouts Her will. You shall limit yourselves to your own kind or Her army will return to your lands and flush you from the verdant plains like the vermin you are.
The Queen is ever magnanimous in the patience she extends to your people. Expel the non-ogre and forbid her re-entry immediately and She shall leave you to your peace.
Sincerely,
Her Majesty the Royal Highness of the True Elves, Queen Sivona of Diardenna
“Why does the elf queen care whether I spend a day in the Ogrelands?” Coral asked, panting to catch her breath.
“I don’t know, but I bet Sybil will have something to say about it,” Sal said. “We should head back to Havenstock next.”
“But the salve!” Coral said.
“Forget the salve,” Sal said. “There’s no going back to the Ogrelands now. And it’s late. We should log off, sleep, and wait for Daniel and Sybil in Havenstock.”
Coral reluctantly agreed, and they logged off, leaving the grasslands behind in gentle tufts of smoke.
34
Sybil walked up the stone steps that led back toward Sage Tawn’s chamber. Daniel followed close behind. When she placed a hand on the stone door ahead, Daniel reactivated Sneak.
The corridor seemed shorter now that they knew where they were heading. Sybil walked right into the sage’s room without knocking.
“Sybil_in_Shrouds, you have returned. Are you ready to learn your birthright as a dark elf? I will teach you the song Dark Faith.”
“This used to be their home,” Sybil said. “These mountains were the minotaurs’ kingdom.”
“Yes,” Sage Tawn said, “we came here centuries ago because they were a mighty people with a powerful army. With their help we could have stormed the forest and deposed the queen. They refused to assist us. We couldn’t return to the forest, so we stayed here. We had to displace those creatures. Do not pine for them. They chose their path.”
“Some choice,” Sybil said.
“An imperfect arrangement, but one in which you are now complicit. The dagger?”
Sybil held up the dagger for Sage Tawn to see.
“What is the meaning of this?” he asked. “There is no blood!”
“I refuse to participate in slaughter,” Sybil said.
“Then you have failed your quest, Sybil_in_Shrouds. You have suffered the minotaurs to live at the expense of our safety and prosperity. You are a traitor to your kind! And you know the consequence. You are stripped of your identity as a dark elf and you are banished from The Ersatz!”
Daniel instantly heard footfalls in the corridor behind them. Sage Tawn took a wand from his collection and aimed it at Sybil. “Only dark elves are permitted to see The Ersatz and live!” he yelled. The tip of the wand began to glow orange. Sybil ran.
They entered the hallway and ran down the winding corridors. Sybil used her spear to push dark elves out of the way as she ran, which cut a path for Daniel to follow. Some elves shot arrows at them, but the constant twists and turns of the underground halls made it hard for any archer to aim and shoot before their target was out of sight again.
They were close to the stone ladder that led above ground. They would be sitting ducks in the middle of that basin, but they could try to teleport before any archers were within shooting range.
Sybil stopped running and fell forward, landing on the ground with her spear in one hand. Someone had jumped onto her back. She tried to stab them with her spear, but the weapon was too long and she had it at the wrong angle. A dagger glinted briefly in the air, catching the light from nearby moss.
Daniel pounced. He jumped on the person’s back and slipped his sword in front of their neck. In an instant he had slit their throat and pushed the body off of Sybil.
>> Dark Elf Rogue takes 1378 Damage. [BACKSTAB]
An arrow lodged in Daniel’s back as he stood up. Attacking the rogue had deactivated his Sneak. The metal tip embedded itself in his leather armor, but failed to pierce his skin. He ran without bothering to pluck the arrow off his armor. He took a few more arrows as he climbed the ladder, but soon they were above ground and they had slammed the stone door shut beneath them. They sat on the door to prevent it from opening and activated their teleports.
35
Coral logged in first thing in the morning. The tented kingdom of the Ogrelands lay a half mile away. A strong wind occasionally brought a burst of the city’s scent. Thankfully it was only occasional. Despite the odor, Coral had liked her time there. The ogres see
med like a nice group, not nearly as hostile toward outsiders as she expected. At least, not until King Ploth read from that scroll.
Sal appeared beside her. “What did the king give you yesterday? We ran before I could see what your reward was.”
“A new ability,” Sal said. “Severe Bloat. It doubles my size and improves all my attributes for a time. Pretty neat!”
“That should come in handy,” Coral said. “At least we aren’t leaving totally empty handed.” She was disappointed that they couldn’t go back into the Ogrelands to get their share of the juvensprig salve.