by James Hunter
Slowly, the Keeper descended, his blocky feet thumping with every step and his staff clacking against the worn stone. Thump, clack. Thump, clack. Thump, clack. At last, it stood before me, or rather, towered over me, since I had to crane my neck up to get a look at it. A tag briefly flashed above its head before vanishing: [Darkshard Golem: Brewald]. The creature slumped forward, leaning on its staff, staring at me for another long moment, sizing me up and filing away every inch of me in painstaking detail.
Finally, it spoke. “Know this, Traveler. Only one who bears the Sacred Relic of the old kingdom may venture here.” Its voice was deep and sludgy like the sound of a burbling mudslide. “Now,” it continued, extending one giant hand, “name your purpose and present the Relic or perish.” The conjured barrier around me faltered and faded, leaving me exposed before the creature. I tried to tell him my purpose, but my jaw flared with pain and I found no words would form.
THIRTEEN:
Crimson Alliance
The stupid Fractured Jaw debuff was still in place. I mumbled a bunch of unintelligible gibberish, which only seemed to make the creature angry. I urgently pointed at my chin, but the Golem didn’t seem familiar with charades, so instead, I scrambled at my pouch with shaky hands.
After a second of fumbling around, I drew out the seal, holding it up for the Golem to see, before it could turn me into messy blood splatter. The creature’s glowing gaze fixed on the disk like a dog spotting a delicious bone. For being such a powerful and ultra-rare artifact, the seal really wasn’t much to look at: a simple gold plate, about the size of an antique CD, with the image of a noble-faced man in profile on one side and a huge tree on the other. A Latin inscription ran around the disk’s edge—Imperatorius Factio Signum on the top and Domini est Terra on the bottom. Carefully, I edged closer to the guardian, not wanting to piss it off, then slipped the relic into its outstretched palm.
The Golem’s hand snapped shut, the disk vanishing in a blink beneath its stony digits. “And your purpose?” the creature prodded. I waited for another few seconds, pointing at my jaw. The creature glowered at me, but there was nothing I could do but wait. Finally, the Fractured Jaw debuff disappeared, and I felt my jaw pop back into place with a crack. I sighed in relief, rubbing a hand along my chin.
“Your purpose?” the creature asked again.
“I want to form a faction in Yunnam,” I replied, mustering all the conviction I could. “I want to claim this Keep,” I finished, hoping my words wouldn’t offend this monster.
The guardian stared at me with intense scrutiny for a long beat before finally turning toward the chief, who lingered behind me. “You are the current chieftain of Yunnam?”
The chief crept closer, flanked by an entourage of undead, until he stood shoulder to shoulder with me, and inclined his head. “Indeed.”
“Do you give your assent to let this man”—the creature swept his free hand toward me—“form his faction in your lands?”
“I do,” the chief replied solemnly, bowing his head in respect.
The creature grunted monosyllabically, nodded, then thumped the butt of his staff against the ground—a flare of light exploded outward from the runes in the wood, and once the light faded, the other Keepers were simply gone. Disappeared back to wherever they’d come from in the first place. Then, the Darkshard Golem turned in a lumbering circle and started back up the steps. “Follow,” he boomed, not bothering with even a cursory glance back to see if we complied.
Up our party went, trailing after the strange creature, pausing briefly at the top of the stairs, waiting as the doors swung out of their own accord. Silently, we headed into the Keep’s interior, me and Abby in the lead, with the others sticking close behind us.
The Golem trudged ahead, unconcerned as he escorted us through a large banquet hall—festooned with tattered banners, badly rotted tables, and a series of huge chandeliers suspended overhead—before passing into a connecting hallway at the far side of the room. We trudged by more hallways and a host of empty rooms, which we’d have to explore when we had a little more time. I caught Cutter casing each room in turn, his gaze sweeping over closed chests as he greedily rubbed his hands together.
The Golem, however, ignored those areas as though he’d walked these halls a thousand times and had no interest in the treasures scattered throughout this place. Finally, we hooked a right and headed down a long hallway studded with wall-mounted candelabras that burned with sickly green flame. Even more hallways branched off from this one, some leading to storage areas, others to what looked like training grounds of some sort. Still, our escort ignored them all, soldiering onward until the hallway finally dead-ended at a spiral staircase, which shot straight up into the air, the stairs quickly twisting out of view.
We climbed up and up and up, the echo of our footfalls filling the tight staircase. After what must’ve been ten flights of stairs, we came to a circular room at the very top of the largest minaret. At some point in the distant past, the roof had caved in, giving us an unrestricted view of the night sky above. The silver moon smiled down while a thousand twinkling stairs winked their approval at us. Welcome home, they seemed to say.
Several windows, set into what remained of the walls, looked out onto the jungle below, which stretched out all around us like a lush blanket covering the land. Tucked away in the dense canopy far below were the warm, yellow lights of Yunnam—I could see the whole city from here, including the chief’s tree, jabbing up defiantly into the sky.
I was never one for heights, but the view was truly spectacular.
“Wow,” Abby said, slipping an arm around my waist, snuggling up to me. “This place is incredible. Can you believe this is going to be ours?”
“Yeah,” I mumbled, not knowing what to say to that. This whole experience was more than a little overwhelming—my whole life, I’d lived in a run-down apartment that wasn’t much bigger than a broom closet. To know this place, even as decrepit as it was, was mine? It was mind blowing.
“I formally welcome you to the Darkshard Keep,” boomed the Golem, drawing my eye. The creature stood on the far side of the circular room, staring out over the land below, his giant hands clasped behind his back. With great, ponderous steps, the guardian turned toward us. “I am Brewald, the embodiment of Darkshard.”
“The embodiment of Darkshard?” Abby asked hesitantly.
“Probably means he’s the butler or something,” Cutter said, swaggering into the room like a peacock. “Are you the butler?” Cutter asked, fixing the creature in his sights.
The creature fell silent, his monstrous gaze flashing in anger.
Amara was next to Cutter in a moment, planting a sharp elbow in the thief’s ribs. “Forgive the ignorant fool,” Amara said, offering the Golem a graceful bow, eyes averted to the floor in reverent respect. “He is a true outsider and does not know the old stories.”
“Hold on a minute,” Cutter replied with a scowl, crossing his arms as he stared daggers at the Huntress. “First, I’m no fool, and second, it’s not like I was trying to insult the ugly bastard. There’s nothing wrong with being a butler—I’ve known plenty of outstanding butlers—I was merely stating the obvious. It just seems like this bloke is gonna be fetching me mutton and mead.” He paused, and cocked his head to the side. “There will be someone to fetch my mutton and mead, right?”
Amara gave him another tight jab to the ribs. “Brewald is not the butler,” she hissed. “He is the castle.”
“What the bloody hell do you mean he’s the castle?” Cutter snorted, flinging an arm out toward the stone guardian. “I’m staring right at the ugly mook, and he’s not even castle shaped.”
“This guardian,” the chief said, sliding forward and slipping an arm around Cutter’s shoulders like a father admonishing a wayward son, “is the physical manifestation of the castle itself. This land is sacred to us because it is alive, aware, and powered by a tremendous ley line of shadow magic, deep in the ground. Though this place may look l
ike stone and wood, it is actually built entirely from shadow matter, alchemically converted into the Keep you see around you. And this Golem is actually the Keep’s avatar here in the material plane. So”—he faltered, offered Cutter a tight-lipped smile, then gestured toward the creature—“this creature is the vessel through which the land spirit Brewald speaks.”
“Right,” Cutter replied, sounding a bit more nervous than he had a moment before, “so he’s definitely not the butler. Got it.”
“So the castle is actually alive?” Abby asked, awe coating the words. It must’ve been a game feature she was unfamiliar with.
“I tire of this,” the Golem boomed, locking on me with fervent intensity. “You may ask whatever questions you want later. But this is not a place for outsiders or idle chatter. This”—the creature gestured at the room around us—“is the primary command center for the Darkshard Keep. It is the most important area of the Keep. From here you may found your faction, and perform other administrative functions. A word of warning is in order before continuing: Should an opposing faction officer capture this room, they can claim the Keep for themselves, so guard this room with your life. Now, would you like to proceed?” A text box appeared in my field of view:
Quest Update: Founding Father
Congratulations! You have acquired a Faction Seal and have initiated the secret Faction-Founding Quest. If you choose to proceed, your Faction Seal will be destroyed and your faction headquarters will be permanently bound to the Dokkalfar city of Yunnam, located in the Storme Marshes. Doing so will also grant you ownership of the Darkshard Keep.
Quest Class: Ultra-Rare, Secret
Quest Difficulty: ?
Success: Present your Faction Seal to the Guardian of an appropriate Keep and found a faction.
Failure: None.
Reward: ?
Accept: Yes/No?
“Yes,” I replied after reading the update.
The Golem inclined his blocky head and held out his hand, revealing the Faction Seal I’d presented to him earlier. I watched in rapt fascination as the disk rose into air, hovering above the creature’s palm. Slowly, the disk began to glow. To shine. To change. Morphing into a brilliant ball of liquid gold, hanging in the air like a burning star. “What would you like to name your faction?” the creature grumbled, fixated on the floating orb.
I only had to think about it for a second. “The Crimson Alliance,” I replied, immediately thinking of my old gaming guild. Abby smiled and nodded her approval.
The Golem extended one stony finger and lightly tapped the floating orb, giving it a little nudge. The thing let out a beautiful clarion ring, then exploded skywards like a rocket bound for the stratosphere, leaving a trail of dazzling diamond light in its wake. One hundred feet it soared. Two hundred. Three. Then, it burst in a spray of light more powerful than any Fourth of July fireworks display I’d ever seen. It was like watching a supernova detonate in low orbit. Our little band of adventurers—even stone-faced Amara—let out a collective Ahh at the magnificent sight.
A second later a notification flashed in front of me:
Viridian Gate Online Universal Alert!
Notice: Traveler Grim Jack Shadowstrider, honorary member of the Ak-Hani clan, has founded the first traveler-owned faction in Viridian Gate Online! Any traveler opposed to the Viridian Empire may now request to join Grim Jack’s faction, the Crimson Alliance, bound to the Dokkalfar city of Yunnam, located deep in the heart of the Storme Marshes.
Notice: Joining the Crimson Alliance instantly lowers a player’s relationship with all Viridian-aligned factions to Unfriendly. Joining the Crimson Alliance instantly raises a player’s relationship with all Rebel-aligned factions to Friendly. Joining the Crimson Alliance entitles members to all Crimson Alliance Faction buffs.
Notice: Grim Jack Shadowstrider is now an exalted enemy of the Ever-Victorious Viridian Empire!
I stared at the notice, mouth agape. I don’t know what I’d been expecting, but it hadn’t been that. Things had certainly escalated more quickly than I’d anticipated. I closed out of the Universal Alert only to be inundated with a slew of other notifications, one right after the other:
Notifications:
You have just founded a faction and are now the High Commander of the Crimson Alliance!
You have received the Cursus Honorum (Rank) of Baron!
You now have access to the Faction Leader Tool Screen!
You now have access to the Leadership Skill Tree!
You may now appoint officers to your faction!
You have gained 1,000 Renown!
Your relationship with the Viridian Empire has been lowered to Exalted Enemy!
Your relationship with the Eldgard Rebellion has been raised to Honored!
You have gained 75,000 EXP points!
You have received an ultra-rare reward: Blessing of Sophia!
x4 Level Up!
You have (55) undistributed stat points! Stat points can be allocated at any time.
You have (12) unassigned proficiency points! Proficiency points can be allocated at any time.
That first alert had been a universal player notification—which meant every player, and maybe even every NPC, would’ve seen it—but I felt fairly certain I was the only one who’d received the other notifications. So, I carefully read each item off for the benefit of everyone else in the room. By the time I was done, two new PMs had hit my inbox; the first waited for me in my personal inbox, and the second waited in my brand-new faction inbox. Quickly, I opened my personal interface and pulled up the first message:
Personal Message:
Jack,
I’m glad you finally came to your senses and decided to do the reasonable thing and form a faction. Well done. Unfortunately, I’m quite busy running the universe, but know that I’ll be keeping a close eye on you, even if from afar. But, I don’t want you to think I’ve completely abandoned you to the wolves, so you and your friend Abby have both received a special Blessing from yours truly—a little token of my special favor. My Blessing permanently increases your luck by 15 points, which is no small thing, and should hopefully tip things your way from time to time.
—Sophia
I whistled under my breath, then stole a quick look at Abby. Her eyes were flicking back and forth, as though reading something no one else could see—a look of bewilderment and even shock lingered on her face. After a minute, she gulped, caught my eye, then mouthed we’ll talk later. Yep, she must’ve received a similar message. Without a thought, I closed the message and brought up the new PM in the faction inbox. A tight knot of fear formed in my belly when I saw the subject line of the PM waiting for me: I’m Coming For You. I hastily opened the message, and slowly read it out loud:
Personal Message:
I know who you are, I know what you and your friend Abby did, and now? Now, I know where you are. You’ve made a terrible mistake and an even worse enemy. You’ve never met a man like me before, that I can promise. I’ve murdered whole families for far less than what you’ve done. I’ve publicly executed people and hung their corpses from overpasses for even minor offenses. And now I’m coming for you. For you and your friends. For everyone you’ve ever known and cared about. I will wipe Yunnam from the face of Eldgard. I will murder every NPC and raze every building until there isn’t even a memory of such a place. If you come to Rowanheath and turn yourself in, I will consider sparing your companions. Fail to do so, however, and suffer the consequences. You have until sunset, two days from now, to make up your mind—after that I will come for you.
—High Commander Carrera
“Holy shite,” Cutter said as I finished reading. “We are so royally screwed. What the hell are we going to do now?”
Everyone was quiet for a long time, as if no one dared to break the uncomfortable spell hanging over us.
“We’re going to get busy,” Abby finally said. Her face was pale and waxy, but her voice hard with resolve. With conviction and anger. For the fir
st time, I felt that same conviction and anger brewing in me. Generally, I was an easy-going, go-along-to-get-along kind of guy, but I didn’t like being threatened. I didn’t like being bullied. In high school, I’d been the butt of too many jokes; one of the best parts about growing up was leaving all the high school B.S. behind. But here this guy was—some drug-dealing thug from Colombia—threatening me and the people important to me. I wasn’t going to let that slide.
“Carrera is overconfident,” Abby said. “He’s cocky. He gave us two days because he’s sure we aren’t a threat to him. But we can use that overconfidence to our advantage.”
“Yeah, but where do we even start?” I asked, running a shaky hand through my hair.
Abby paused for a moment, then glanced over at the Golem. “Maybe we should ask him,” she said.
FOURTEEN:
Initiate Tutorial
I turned toward the Golem, not quite sure what to say. “I don’t suppose you have some sort of tutorial for us, do you?”
Surprisingly, the creature nodded, his face flat and solemn, then held out one hand, palm up. For a beat nothing happened, but then emerald light began to bleed from his rocky flesh, coalescing into a globe of brilliant light the size of a beach ball, twirling lazily above the Golem’s hand as we watched. “Faction leaders have a tremendous number of tools at their disposal,” the creature intoned. As he spoke, the twirling glob of light began to change and stretch, unfurling like a flower’s petals, until a hazy interface screen hung in the air for everyone to see.
“First, as Faction Leader, you have the ability to access the Faction Leader Tool Screen, which offers you numerous options. From this menu, you can appoint officers, accept new members into your ranks, and set the rules and ordinances that govern your faction.” The creature gave a slight shake of his hand, and suddenly the hazy interface simmered, shifted, and morphed again: now we saw a new screen, labeled Darkshard Keep. “From there, you can also access the Keep’s interactive menu, used for making updates and upgrades to the compound.