Current XP: 850 (900 for LvL 9)
*
“Damnit!” the sorcerer burst out. “I’m only 50 XP away from Level Nine!” But still, with all of the running back and forth in the Oak Shrine, he still didn’t have the time to pick his spells for Level 8, so maybe there was something in there he could use to contact the others…
He checked his lists, and, as he had chosen the Path of the Sorcerer he received all of their spells for free every level. Meaning I’ve added Trap Spirit for Level Seven, and Ether Bolt for Level Eight… Dean checked the other lists.
“Path of Pain…? No, I doubt there will be anything in there! Path of the Healer? Nope…”
*
Path of the Forest Friend.
Level 6. Send Dream. Cost: 5 Mana.
By accessing the deep subconscious rhythms that lie underneath all living matter, you are able to construct and send a simple dream to another character whom you have met in the game, no matter what distance, whether they are on or offline. (Note: characters who are currently offline will receive their dream-message to their VRM-Alpha headset, where they may listen or view the message by download, or else receive it through logging into the game again).
*
“Well, it’s the best I can do at the moment,” Dean sighed, selecting that option from the available spells he could buy with each level he had won, and activating it as soon as it appeared in his spell list.
Send Dream….
Choose Image: Sword, Horse, Bird, Map, Candle, Skull, Coin, Boat, Crown, Staff, Star.
None of the symbols seemed to match perfectly to what Dean wanted to say, so he selected ‘Star’ and hoped that would catch their attention.
Type or Speak Message:
“Crusher? It’s me, Winters. I’m back at the Hide-Out, and I want to know where y’all are!” Dean clicked ‘send’ and there was a swirl of purple and red energy in the air of the room, and a fading burst as the star he had selected seemed to fade into the distance. He did the same message for Lady Jay and Sari. It only costs 5 Mana, anyway, he reasoned, before settling back.
Now what? He looked around. I’ve got only 50 XP left until I get to Level Nine… His gaze flickered to the windows, where the branches of a tree scratched the dirty pane like fingers. I’m sure I can find some monster or another out there can meet that…
But first, he knew he had just one very important thing to do. Unlock the Green Ouroborax. He reached into his inventory to pull out the shard of crystal that looked vaguely like green kryptonite, and set it on the table. Who would have thought it was so powerful? Winters looked at it. In fact, he didn’t particularly feel like he could feel any magical power from it.
And how am I supposed to unlock it? He turned it over, not finding any signs of wear and tear, or any cracks.
“Did the Red Hand mean shape it?” he said to himself.
But I don’t have my tools. They’re all back at the King’s City! Winters suddenly clapped a hand to his forehead.
“If the Red Hand wants me to do anything to this lump of rock, I’ve got to get back to King’s City…”
Feeling a little useless, the sorcerer put the green crystal back into his inventory, and wondered what to do.
“Get some XP,” he decided, “at least enough to get me to Level Nine.”
Dean knew his character always had paper, ink, and quills in his inventory, so it didn’t take too much effort to write a note for any of the characters that might arrive by the time he got back.
Gone hunting. Won’t be long. Council of Elrond when I get back – we need to get back to the city!
W.
*
Stepping through the woods, the mage realized he was no ranger. He snapped twigs and tore his heavy cloak several times, but he still persevered. How hard could it be, encountering a monster out here? This was officially the Far Realms, wasn’t it? This place should be teeming with them!
But so far, despite the ever-expanding circle he had made around the hut (retracing his steps several times to make sure he knew the way back), all he had encountered were the same black-barked trees, a few small, scurrying rodent-type things, and some very long, furred, and bright orange caterpillars.
“And I probably won’t get much experience for killing those... he thought glumly, just as he was turning back to return to the hut. Either way, I guess I’ve killed some time waiting for the others… He sighed.
“Hsss…” A sound like the rattle of snakes behind him, and a shadow moved in the trees above.
Spoke too soon… Winters turned, one hand raising the staff defensively, just as the dark shape moved across his vision.
“Oh crap.”
It was a lot bigger than he had thought. A hell of a lot bigger.
Hss!” The creature jumped from the bow of a tree to the ground with a heavy thump, much larger than Dean was, and yet seeming able to be much quicker as well. Winters fell back as it slowly turned, eight feet tall and the size of a bear, but curiously feathered.
It had small, strangely stubby legs that ended in large clawed talons, like a bird, and under its arms, from its wrists to its back, there extended a cape of feathers.
But the strangest part of the creature was the thing’s head. Squat, with large rounded eyes and a beak, like an enormous owl.
“It’s a freaking Owlbear. Dean could have laughed, were the thing not hissing and stalking towards him. “An Owlbear!” He’d heard of such things in roleplay games, but never actually had a chance to face them. He had thought their pictures had been a little silly, cute even.
But there was nothing cute about the glaring, hissing behemoth that lunged towards him.
Might as well use that spell…
“Ether Bolt!” the sorcerer cried out as he dived to one side and felt a kick of power surge through his body. Electrical coils of light twinned and surged down his quarterstaff, before joining and firing out of the end at the thing. It was like watching a laser weapon in action, as the ray of purple light exploded outwards into the main mass of the monster, hitting it like a thunderbolt.
30 damage!
“Sckrar!” The monster was kicked to one side, a sheet of flame eating up one side of its feathers, but it jumped back to its feet and leapt forward once more at Winters.
“Crap!” he had a moment to gasp, before one of the thing’s talons caught him on the shoulder and ripped his quarterstaff out of his hands.
-12 Health!
“Damnit!” Winters scrabbled to one side of a tree as he felt the ground thud behind him from another blow. The Owlbear was quick. Very quick.
Smash! One of the branches of the tree exploded above his head as the creature struck out at it again. But Winters still had a few more tricks up his sleeve.
“Lightning bolt!” He dove back from the tree, pointing at the creature that had pounced around it, ready to eviscerate him. At his command, the sky above the trees cracked with thunder, and there was a whistling sound as a bolt of burning white light shot through the canopy, incinerating leaves, and slamming into the creature’s back.
18 Damage!
“Hssss!” The creature whistled and hissed in agony, lurching forward as its back feathers were blown apart. Winters could smell the acrid burning hair and flesh as he staggered back, preparing another—
“Scrark!” The creature took another step, raised its mighty talons, ready to bring them down in a blow that would surely crush the human sorcerer’s skull…
CRASH! And, with a thud, it fell backward, gurgling its death rattle.
Congratulations! Owlbear Defeated! +225 XP!
“I only wanted fifty…” Winters swayed on his feet, checking his health bar. Almost half gone. “If I spend any longer out here, I’m probably going to become dinner for the next thing wandering around…”
The sorcerer stumbled back down the path to the cottage, to find that not everything there was going according to plan either.
*
“Winters!?” he heard a voice say as soon as he arrived. Looking up, he saw it was none other than the Enchantress Sari, standing on the other side of the table, long golden hair flowing over her shoulders and wearing a deep green gown. She looked just as fresh as she had the first moment he had seen her, apart from the worry in her face.
“Sari? What is it? I’m here…” Winters hobbled into the room.
“And you’re bleeding.” The young woman’s frown only deepened. “Sit down. I’ve got an ointment that can heal that…” Her worry had made her stern, Winters realized, wondering why she wasn’t like this more often in the game.
Within moments, the Enchantress had fished out a small pot of something foul-smelling and creamy and had started to apply it to the sorcerer’s shoulder. Dean watched in awe as his health bar started creeping back up, slowly.
“It’ll take a while to work, but I’m afraid I haven’t got any Healing Elixirs left…” she said distractedly as she worked, before cleaning her fingers on a handkerchief. “Now, I need to talk to you. This is serious.”
“I know, Council of Elrond, right?” Winters said enthusiastically. “You got my dream?”
“Of course, but it’s not that. Or rather – it is.” Sari bit her lip.
“Don’t worry,” Winters said quickly, before the enchantress could voice her doubts. “I’ve felt the same way about all this – but I’ve been chatting to Marcy – she plays Mirelle the elf — and we’ve found out that it’s all true. All of that Jesse Creek facility stuff. It’s true!” Winters tried to convince her. She probably wants to back out, he thought.
“No, you’re not listening to me. It’s Jay. Lady Jay.” Sari even stamped her feet on the cracked paving slabs of the cottage’s floor.
“What?” Winters stopped all of a sudden, as he realized Sari’s worry was real.
“Josephine. That’s Jay’s real name,” Sari said. “I should know, because we know each other. In real life.”
“I guessed…” Winters nodded.
“Well – after you left the other day, we stayed around for a bit with Crusher and the Red Hand, but it was mostly Crusher asking Ramesh – that’s the Red Hand’s real name, by the way – about all of his various adventures. Boring. So we jumped out of the game. There was some stuff I had to do for college, and Jay, I know, has got to get her sleep before work…”
“Wait. College?” Dean paused her. “You’re both in college? How old are you?”
“Me? Or Josephine?” She looked confused for a moment, before answering anyway. “Twenty-one. Second year of grad college. I’ve known Josephine for years, since high school. We both live in San Fran, and Jo works on the delivery service, running all over the city at night in a truck. It’s why she has so much time during the days to play Aldaron.” Sari shrugged. “Anyway, that’s not the point, this is: Jo jumped out, promising to call me later, and she never did.”
“Okay…” Winters winced. He didn’t like where this was heading already.
“So, I just thought she’d forgot or didn’t have the time and got on with work. No biggie, right?” Sari said. “Well anyway, this morning I pick up a call from the manager of the delivery firm, pretty pissed because Josephine never came into work last night, and he wanted me to tell her that if she didn’t have a medical exemption or a pretty darn good excuse, she would be fired!”
“Well, did she?” Winters asked.
“Wait for it. I go over to her apartment – we don’t live together, because Jo is a neat-freak, and I have never been able to organize my fridge, let alone my apartment. Anyway, I’ve got spare keys, I go over there…” Sari’s words wobbled, and Winters could tell she was having difficulties explaining the last details of her story.
Oh no. This must be bad. Real bad.
“She was in a coma. On her bed,” the enchantress said in a rush. “Just like what Ramesh told us about. She was out, eyes glazed, still breathing, but wouldn’t wake up, no matter what I said to her, what I tried…”
“Dear God...” Winters said in horror. “You think it was the VRM-Alpha?”
“What else can it be? The doctors say it was a stroke, but I mean, just a day after Ramesh told us about the dangers of the VRM-Alpha? What are the chances!?” Sari broke down into tears.
The chances have to be a thousand to one, Winters thought. In fact, they were unbelievable.
“Is Josephine in hospital right now?” Winters asked.
Sari nodded, dabbing at her nose. “San Franciso General. Specialist Unit.”
“Look, Sari? I told you my friend is a nurse, Marcy – she plays the elf? I’m going to get her. She might be able to, I don’t know, find something out about Jay’s condition.”
“Thanks,” Sari said, before she put a hand over Winters’ shoulder suddenly. “I don’t like this anymore, Winters,” she said.
“No.” Dean could only agree. “I don’t think I do, either.” They exchanged contact details, real phone numbers, and Dean promised to call as soon as he found anything. “And I’ll message you before I log in next time, so we can coordinate, right?”
Sari nodded, tearfully, before winking out of existence.
Oh hell, Winters thought. This game has suddenly got real.
*
“San Fran General?” Marcy’s worried voice said over the phone. The line crackled, and Dean wondered if it was the powerlines near his window.
“Yeah. That’s what Sari said, that she was in a specialist unit up there?” Dean listened to the muffled and muttered sounds of swearing on the other end of the line. As soon as he had finished talking to the Enchantress, Dean had logged out immediately, and called Marcy. All of a sudden, not having an emergency buzzer he could press and have her running to his bedside had become very inconvenient indeed!
“Okay, got it…” More furious tapping at the other end of the line. “I’m logged into the internal California medical system,” she muttered. Is she allowed to do that? Dean thought, but whatever the legality, it didn’t seem to be stopping her.
“So, we have … all the usual units: ICU, Emergency, Surgery, Adult Care, Mental Health…” She ran through the list. “Nope. Nothing listed just as Specialist Unit.”
“Hey.” Dean started to frown. This is getting weird. “Maybe she just got it wrong. It must be the ICU, right? Intensive Care Unit?”
“Wait…” Another furious amount of tapping on the computer. “We’ve got something here, Sub-Units, never heard of those before…”
Dean waited, tapping his fingers on top of the VRM visor at his side, before suddenly pulling his hand away as if it was burned. How dangerous is this thing, really? What would happen if I put it on my head?
Crusher. Isaiah. He swore.
“Dean? What is it? What’s wrong?” Marcy on the other end of the line, suddenly worried. “Is it your knee? A panic attack?”
“No, no – I sent a dream to Crusher that I would meet him in the game, at the Hide-Out. I sent that dream to everyone in our party.” Dean couldn’t believe how stupid he had been. What if something happened to them? The same thing that had happened to Jay?
“I have to go back in, warn them…” Dean started to panic. His heart started to pick up its staccato rhythm, in a familiar surge of panic.
I can’t do this. I’m a cripple. My friend is in hospital, and it must be my fault.
“Dean?” Marcy’s voice, concerned. “Do you want me to come over?”
“Nah – no.” Yes. “No.” He shook his head, even though he knew the nurse wouldn’t be able to see it. “I’ve got this.” I hope. He breathed slowly through his mouth. This is just a wave of panic. Of emotions. Nothing serious, I’m used to this.
“Well look, these Sub-Units are hidden under the Directorate’s Board of San Francisco General Hospital. There’s a bunch of them, Specialist Unit: Investigations, Specialist Unit: Trials, Specialist Unit: Minerva.”
“Minerva? Wha
t the hell is that? Some rare medical condition?” It was easier for Dean to concentrate on the sound of Marcy’s voice than it was to breathe through his rising anxiety. I can do this. This is important. More important than my knee, or my hand.
“None that I’m aware of. But this is pretty whack – it sounds as creepy as all hell just having specialist units for ‘trials’ and no write-up of what the trial is. I mean, it could be a drugs trial? Or a treatment plan? Or anything…?”
“You thinking what I’m thinking?” Dean said.
“I am. There’s a secure website for them though, and if I…” Dean heard his friend tapping away at her laptop as she talked to him on the other end of the line. “Ha, no. I thought as much. It just takes you to a log-in page.” Marcy sounded, if anything, excited. Like how she sounded when she had appeared at his door with news of a new set of exercises and routines he could ‘try his hand at’ (she had a very dark sense of humor).
“Dead end, then?” Dean groaned, feeling the despair mount up.
“Don’t give up so quickly, buddy, I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve…” he heard her say. More tapping. More muttered curses.
“Don’t tell me you’re some secret world-class hacker as well,” Dean managed to say through his worry. “We’ve only just met Ramesh, and already my life has turned upside down.”
“Ha. You’re making jokes. You can’t be that bad…” Marcy countered. “No, I’m afraid I’m not some world-class hacker. But every medical employee is schooled in data protection and digital safety, it’s a part of our security training for public and social health,” she said. “And this is the one useful thing I was taught: if you’re getting phishing attacks…”
“Phishing?” Dean wondered.
“Yeah, I have no idea where it comes from, but it means fishing, like, criminals out to get your information by sending you fake emails with links for you to click. The security training had to make sure we wouldn’t accidentally give over access to the medical computers to some fraudster the first time we logged onto the hospital systems,” she said breathlessly.
“Oh, okay…”
“Well, we were told that if you’re receiving a steady onslaught of phishing attacks, you can fairly easily trace who is doing it by putting in the details of their website or the email address into a look-up service. There’re tons of them online, and they’re all free. They check who is the official owner of a website, twitter handle, email – that kind of thing. You can find their city, contact details, and all that.”
Tales of the Gemsmith Page 25