by Ramy Vance
“All right, I got you. Why is it there?”
“We have the cross and holy water; that CD represents the nails used to crucify Christ. You know, symbolically speaking.” Stew gave Suzuki a smile that the warrior-mage was sure the barbarian had used on his teachers when trying to pull a fast one. “It’s the whole fucking thing. How could José not be into this?”
“And I have to bring him here?”
“Yep, O Fearless Leader. You’re our only hope.”
Suzuki looked at the hodgepodge of religious iconography. The room looked like something a kindergarten class would have organized for a Christmas pageant. Granted, there was a lot more gold than children could afford. The look was earnest, at least. Sincerity was as abundant as the Christmas cheer in the room.
Suzuki leaned over and casually blew out the candles. “Guess I’ll go grab José.”
“You got the easiest job,” Sandy called from across the room. “I didn’t see you having to hang anything.”
Suzuki threw his hands up as he made his way toward the door. “Yeah, whatever. I’ll take care of it.”
It was the middle of the afternoon, so the Red Lion was practically abandoned. Suzuki walked to the bar, where Wendy was sitting, having a drink. She lazily looked up at him as she sipped her beer. Suzuki took a seat next to her and waited awkwardly until she paid attention.
Wendy downed the last of her beer and put it on the counter. “Can I help you with anything?”
“I was wondering if you knew where José was?”
“Up in his room. They’re having some kind of meeting or something.”
“Thanks.”
“No problem.”
Suzuki left the bar. There was a weird feeling in the Red Lion. He had never seen it this empty before. The few people who were in the bar were sitting by themselves, drinking quietly. He figured the rest of the MERCs were out on quests and missions. It was the middle of the day, after all. And that got Suzuki wondering if it was the weekend.
He honestly didn’t know what day it was. Since he’d come to Middang3ard, the days had blended into each other. Now that he thought about it, he wasn’t sure he had any idea how long he’d been in Middang3ard. It was hard to keep track of everything that was going on all the time. The concept of time had been the first thing to go out the window.
It didn’t take long to find the Horsemen’s room. None of the doors had any kind of marking other than room numbers. Still, Suzuki was able to figure out which room the Horsemen were in from the amount of noise coming from it.
Suzuki followed the shouting to a room near the back of the hall and knocked twice. There was a shuffling of feet and a couple of hoarse whispers before the door opened just a crack.
The Chipmaster’s eyes peered out. “What brings you to these parts, young squire?”
Suzuki cleared his throat and tried to speak confidently. “Uh, I’m here to invite José to a party. And all of you, as well.”
The Chipmaster swung the door open, grabbed Suzuki, and pulled him into the room. She twirled him around, and he was sitting in a chair at a table before he realized what was going on.
José, the Chipmaster, and Diana were playing cards. The table was covered in gold, armor, and weapons, and it looked as if the contents of a chest had just been dumped out for everyone to figure out who was grabbing what.
José was puffing a cigar nonchalantly, watching the clouds of smoke float up to the ceiling.
Diana was staring at her cards with an intensity that might have been reserved for cracking a dead language.
Suzuki assumed that the pile of gears had been the Chipmaster’s contribution to the pot.
José looked up from his cards for a second before his eyes darted back. “Suzuki,” José murmured. “What brings you here?”
Suzuki checked around the room quickly. “Is Nines around?” he asked.
“I do believe he’s sleeping.”
“I wanted to invite you all to a party. Something the Mundanes and I have put together for you.”
Diana tossed her cards on the table and groaned loudly. “I fold,” she whined. “This one is yours, Chip.”
José drew a couple more cards and looked down at them as he chomped his cigar. “Not if I have anything to say about it,” he muttered.
The Chipmaster didn’t bother looking at her cards. She waved away the possibility of drawing anything else. She kicked her feet up on the table, leaned back, and motioned for Diana to hand her the pipe that was smoldering on the table. “Don’t matter what you’ve got to say, Luv, you’re still going down in a fiery explosion of guts and glory. I’ve only been teasing you, but once I’m done with this hand, there won’t be nothing left of you to tell anyone about. You won’t be betting in these halls for some time. Not unless you want me leaning over your shoulder to remind you how shite you are at the game.”
José tossed his cards on the table. The Chipmaster took a look at the cards, curled her upper lip, and tossed her cards onto the table. José leaned forward to get a better look, then he slammed his fist on the table, practically cracking it. The gold and loot went flying as the Chipmaster and Diana burst into laughter.
The Chipmaster slithered out of her chair and started to gather whatever had fallen onto the floor, hoarding it in a massive pile of gold and shining armor. “Looks like another round for Ol’ Chip,” she sang.
“I say we play another hand. HUDs off,” José growled.
“Are you accusing a moral person such as myself of cheating? The audacity! Truly, that’s disturbing. And from such a confident and strong leader? The very idea of it is flabbergasting.”
“Fuck it,” José said as he stood up from the table. He turned his eyes to Suzuki. “What did you say you wanted?”
Suzuki felt his voice failing him. He swallowed and tried to stand as confidently as the other MERCs in the room. “Uh, I, my friends and I, we set up a party for you.”
The Chipmaster leapt up from the pile of loot “A party! Where the hell at? Is that what you were on about the whole time? José! We have to go! It’s a party!”
José folded his arms. He stared at the pile of loot . “I’m not sure I’m in the mood for a party.”
“It’s a birthday party,” Suzuki squeaked, instantly regretting opening his mouth. “Of a sort,” he muttered.
“For whom?” José asked.
“You.”
José narrowed his eyes. “This, I have to see.”
The Horsemen entered the room, led by Suzuki, his head low. Even more candles had been lit. The air was thick with incense, and it was nearly too heavy to breathe.
Stew and Sandy were still bustling around the room, trying to get everything set up properly.
José walked around the room, looking at everything the Mundanes had prepared, his manner cool and detached.
Diana and the Chipmaster, on the other hand, were nearly exploding as they tried to hold in their laughter. They were running around the room, looking at everything the Mundanes had prepared. “This is fucking awesome, mates,” the Chipmaster shouted.
Diana stood beside the Ark of the Covenant and touched the wings of one of the cherubs. “This is exquisite craftsmanship. Where did you get this?”
“Oddities,” Sandy said. “The shop you told me about. And I told the owner hi for you.”
“Much appreciated.”
Sandy and Diana instantly got into a conversation about the shop, exchanging anecdotes and product information faster than Suzuki could follow. At least they’ll enjoy the party, Suzuki thought.
The Chipmaster seemed less interested than Diana, but not nearly as disinterested as José, who had already taken a seat in the corner of the room. He was holding the crucifix Stew had placed strategically. He rolled it over in his hand for a few moments before holding it up to peer at the Christ figure.
Suzuki walked up to José and took a seat next to him. He tried to hide the sense of failure that was building in his stomach. He had never been
one for planning parties, but this was easily the worst.
José handed Suzuki the crucifix. “So,” José started, “Christmas, huh? Let me guess, this is supposed to be my birthday party?”
“Yeah, we planned it just for you,” Suzuki answered.
“And what about this is supposed to be for me?”
“Er…”
“Are you all still on the whole ‘Messiah’ thing?” José threw up his hands in exasperation. “I’m not him,” he growled.
“No, no, not at all.”
“I am not Jesus,” José spat the Messiah’s name like it was a curse. “I cannot express that strongly enough.”
“We know you aren’t Jesus. It’s just that—”
“Then why the fuck is this a Christmas party? In the middle of August?”
“We just thought it was a fun theme.”
“So you planned a Christmas party for me? In summer. Filled it with…with…I don’t even know what.”
“Yeah, it is.”
“And a Nine Inch Nails CD? Don’t you think it’s in poor taste to theme a party after someone’s death?”
“It’s for Nines,” Suzuki muttered. “We thought he might like it.”
José stood and placed the crucifix back on the table. He stepped back to admire its golden luster. “But I get it. You’re terribly misinformed, but I get it. So what do you want?”
Suzuki’s eyes lit up. José wasn’t totally dismissing them. They had a chance. “Just a quest. That’s all we want,” Suzuki said. “Something that will help us get gear so we can—"
“Yeah, yeah, I know. Fine. You got it. I’ve got a quest for you,” José said, looking around the room. “I’ve got a whole lot of quest for you.”
Even though José fell silent then, Suzuki was pretty sure the MERC was laughing maniacally.
9
A trapdoor behind the main bar of the Red Lion led down to a hidden hallway that José guided the Mundanes and the Horsemen through. It was a tight squeeze, and Suzuki was pressed up against Stew. They both tried to maintain distance, but Suzuki could feel Stew’s muscles pressing against him, flexing uncontrollably.
Suzuki tried to push forward and shove Stew aside, only to find himself even closer to Stew. “Dude,” Suzuki said, “your muscles are…cramping me.”
Even though it was dark, Suzuki knew Stew was smirking with self-assuredness. “Yeah, they tend to do that. Can’t really be helped.”
The long, dark hallway led to a spacious room which held several comfortable, leather seats. A large table which was covered by a map and various clay figurines took up the majority of the room. The walls were covered with portraits of MERCs.
Given the nature of the portraits, Suzuki assumed that they were paintings of MERCs who had fallen.
José took a seat at the table and peered over the figurines set up in various locations throughout Middang3ard. Suzuki stood next to him as the rest of the Mundanes found a place in the room.
Leaning over José’s shoulder, Suzuki tried to angle himself to get a better look at the map of Middang3ard. In the whole time he’d been stationed at the Red Lion, he hadn’t seen a full map of the realm. Fred had mentioned that each of the realms was identical to each other in geography, almost as if they had been interlaced on top of each other. The specifics of each region differed, but the natural geographical topographies were identical.
For example, each of the nine worlds had a Manhattan, but they were all developed differently. The imp had shown him what New York looked like for the dwarves: nothing but vast forests. The dwarves lived underground, so they had never touched the forests above. Must make city planning easier, Suzuki thought.
Whereas the gnomes’ Manhattan looked like a scene out of a dystopic Steam Punk anime series, complete with black smoke billowing out of stacks and steam-powered zeppelins filling the sky.
Well, at least that’s how the gnomish Manhattan had looked until it was conquered by the Dark One.
José moved around a couple of the figurines on the map. He stared at them for a bit before he turned to Suzuki. “So where did you say that your friend is?”
Suzuki pointed to the coast of New York, Ellis Island. He recognized the area from when he had triangulated Beth’s position from her message. “There. Ellis Island. That’s where Beth’s message came from.”
“That’s not Ellis Island. Not here at least. It might be the same geographically, but it’s a very different place in Middang3ard. We know that whole area was recently overrun with orcs. We also know that a host of the Dark One’s troops have recently been stationed there. It’s been hard to get any intel on the area recently. Most of the military that’s stationed there has…well, you know. But at the moment, from everything we can tell, the island is being used as some sort of prison camp.”
“So what’s the plan?”
José swiped his hand over the map and a digitized screen popped up. The Mundanes were displayed on the screen, along with their gear and a bunch of ratings Suzuki didn’t recognize. There was a percentage of success. It read .0007%. José pointed to the percentage.
“You three aren’t going there yet,” he said. “There’s no way you’d even make it off the beach. We gotta figure out what you need to get so that you can at least make it a couple of feet without dying.”
Suzuki wanted to object, but he kept his mouth shut. Across from him, Stew and Sandy’s faces had sunk. There wasn’t anything any of them could say though. They had asked José for help, and he’d finally given it to them. Suzuki knew that now was the time to listen.
José pointed to another section of the map, not too far from the Red Lion in the grand scope of things. “This,” he explained, “is a good place to start. I’m guessing that the reason your percentage is so low is that you don’t have the skills or the gear to make it there. The HUDs are designed to restrict MERCs from entering into areas they aren’t prepared for. Back in the day, we lost a lot of good people because they were wandering into places where they couldn’t possibly survive. So the HUDs have a built-in system to transport you back to the Red Lion if you step outside of your comfort zone. So what we have to do is send you someplace where we know that you’ll get the tools you’ll need to survive on this world’s Ellis Island. This seems like a good place to start.”
Sandy inched closer to the war table, swiped away the hologram of stats floating above the map and looked at the figurines on the table. There were three to represent the Mundanes. “So you’d send us here?” she asked. “Why here?”
“It’s a quest that I’ve already been trying to get set up for you three,” he said with a wink. “Christmas party or not, I’ve been planning this one for you ever since lover boy here came crying to me. As you know, it’s the responsibility of the veterans to design quests for recruits who we think might actually make something worthwhile of themselves. We’ve been watching you three for a bit. Do you think Diana just helps every mage who comes to her? We’ve been scouting you. Or did none of you douchenozzles figure that out yet?”
Hearing someone else call them douchenozzles was like a punch to the gut for Suzuki. Still, it proved José’s point. The only way he’d know that expression was if they’d been watching them when they were the Mundanes in the VR world of Middang3ard.
José folded his arms before going on. “This is a quest we all feel you’ll be able to do, which will give you the loot you need to get to other areas.”
Diana and the Chipmaster nodded in agreement with José.
José moved the three figurines representing the Mundanes closer to a large, gothic building. He stepped back and folded his arms over his chest. “It’s going to be tougher than anything that you’ve done before. There are real risks. Any one of you could get badly hurt if you’re not careful. You could die. And there’s not going to be anyone to help you if shit goes south. Do you understand that?”
Suzuki didn’t need to be asked twice. The risk didn’t matter to him. He knew that it didn’t matter to
Stew or Sandy either. If this was what they had to do to get to Beth, this was what they were going to do.
Stepping forward, Suzuki rested his hand on the hilt of his sword. “If you give it to us, we’ll take care of it,” Suzuki said.
“Then it’s yours. I’ll forward the paperwork to Wendy. She’ll set you up with the rest of what you need.”
“Thanks, José. We really appreciate everything you’re doing for us.”
José crossed himself solemnly. “Let the Lord…and me be clear about this, yet again. The Lord, not me, be with you.” José held his hand out.
Suzuki clasped José’s hand tightly. “We won’t disappoint you.”
“Let’s hope not.”
The Mundanes waited outside of the Red Lion as their provisions were being made ready. Stew and Sandy were leaning against the Red Lion, looking nervous. Stew was picking at his face, and Sandy was braiding and unbraiding her hair.
Wendy came around the side of the Red Lion, leading three horses. She came up to Suzuki and handed him the reins of the largest, a brute with a soft red mane. Wendy patted the horse’s snout and fed it a carrot. “These guys’ll serve you well. If you’re going that far east, you need a mount that’s up for the journey. These are three of our finest. They’ll get you to your first checkpoint, and there you’ll find something…more suitable for the terrain. José vouched for you.”
Suzuki looked into the horse’s eyes. They were deep brown and seemed to contain infinity. “We’ll treat them well,” he said.
Sandy and Stew came up, and each took a horse from Wendy. She nodded and walked off, turning only for a moment to watch the Mundanes as if there were something else she wanted to say. Instead, she walked back into the bar.
Suzuki mounted his horse and turned to watch Stew struggle to get onto his. Sandy hopped off hers and gave Stew a boost so that he could get onto the beast. Then she went back and effortlessly leapt onto her horse. She nudged it slightly, and the horse trotted over to Suzuki.