by Wade Adrian
The pair holed up in a small cave as the sun set, the mountain passes to dark to cross without it.
They'd passed the cave numerous times throughout the day. The trails were winding and it all just looked like rock and snow. The snow that fell and blew around did a dandy job of filling in their old tracks.
Tom grumbled to himself as he laid out the foodstuffs he had found in their journeys. If he was still a ranger he could have navigated them through these stupid passes without breaking a sweat. As it stood... he was as lost as Max.
The rogue busied himself making a fire. They'd been gathering all the wood they could find for the last hour or two. It would be plenty to pass the night.
Fortunately the bandits they had bested had been camping somewhere up here. Their flint stone came in handy. Better than bashing rocks together. Without any survival skills that was what it would have come down to.
Their bed rolls were nice, too. Even with them the cave floor would be hard, but at least it wouldn't be as cold.
The elephant in the room had been munching steroids for some time now. Tom was surprised Max hadn't mentioned it, but he didn't really want to talk about it either...
It was night. The day had passed...
No one had come for them. They were still in the game with no means of leaving.
It was... a problem.
What could have possibly happened for two members of the tiny live crew to go missing with no investigation? It wasn't like they were hiding. They'd both be in their quarters, as ever.
Max had been grumbling since not long after they'd fought the bandits. It hadn't taken Tom long to figure out why; his friends list was empty too. Neither of them had ever really had reason to memorize people's login names, so it made finding them with the system all but impossible now.
If that even mattered. Their characters were a jumbled mess, why would anyone else's have fared better? Anyone searching for Castien or Gaius would be disappointed.
But... they didn't talk about it.
They talked about camping. And food.
Max threw his hands up when the fire caught. "Yes!"
Tom craned his neck slightly. "Congratulations. You're a caveman."
"Thog make fire. Fire good."
It really was good. It would keep animals away and hopefully keep the cave from getting cold enough to cause them damage from simply being there over night.
Yet it also meant they would be visible in the dark. Bandits liked campfires. Hostile players could also follow them, theoretically. It hadn't been much of an issue when everyone playing was on the live crew and talked over their lunch break. That might not hold true anymore.
Max stared warily at the food Tom had laid out. "You're not planning to... eat those, are you? Hilde gave us food."
"That won't keep."
"We've been walking around in what is basically one giant refrigerator. It should be fine."
"Game doesn't care. Spoiling takes time. Other conditions have never factored in."
"Lame. It should be plenty for tonight either way."
"Tonight, yes. Tomorrow? Unlikely."
"Then we'll head back. We've made some money now. Probably offload some of the junk. Get better prepared to head out again."
Tom picked up one of the mushrooms he had found in a similar cave. Or... had it been this cave? Whatever. "The game might have taken my class and my skills, but it can't take away what I already know. This is a whitecap. Perfectly edible." He picked up a twisting root as well. "Redroot, too. I can survive off these. You eat the bread. Stretch our resources out."
He popped the whitecap into his mouth.
It had a... metallic tinge he wasn't expecting. Though, really, he didn't know what to expect. Things hadn't really had flavors before.
A moment later there seemed to be a hint of... heat?
Tom's throat burned as he bent over, his stomach emptying itself on the floor of the cave.
The wave of nausea had come on before he could even move.
Max stared with one eyebrow raised. "I'm not sure that was a whitecap."
Tom laid on his side, careful only to avoid his former lunch. "I'm inclined to agree." He wheezed. The cool stone floor was soothing... for the moment.
"If I were you, I wouldn't try the root." Max set one of the little loaves of bread down by Tom.
"I would have sworn..." Tom reached out to pick up the redroot, still lying on his side.
"Dude."
"I'm not going to eat it." Tom sighed as he held the root close. He took a sniff.
Dirt was all he could smell.
He touched his tongue to it slightly.
A similar metallic tinge met him. Stronger than the mushroom.
Tom set the root back down.
Both had been staples of his foraging for... forever. He could pick them out from a mile away, and almost always found them when he needed to shore up their food supplies.
Both were wrong.
But both looked right. Even now, when he knew they were wrong.
"This is some bullshit." He gnawed on the loaf of bread like a rat. A sickly rat.
He couldn't navigate.
He couldn't forage.
He couldn't track.
He couldn't even wield a bow beyond the capacity of a child, if he had one, which he didn't.
The skills simply weren't available. They were what made rangers special, and he... was feeling less than special after today.
His damned feet hurt, and yet were also so cold he could barely feel them. He should have been able to dance across this stupid mountain without slowing down.
Max had noticed. He was annoying like that. "You can probably patch yourself up, you know. Wouldn't even be difficult."
"Pfft. So I can heal now. Big whoop. I could do that before. So could you."
"Yeah, but nowhere near as well as a cleric. I mean, ranger healing is a band aid next to the ambulance that is cleric healing."
Tom shook his head, basically rolling it on the floor. "So what? I can't heal us full of food or water. I can't heal us off of this mountain. I can't heal up the location we're supposed to be going to."
"We're getting by." Max prodded the fire with one of his daggers. "Maybe we don't need to find this place. We'll go back down, have a nice stay at Hilde's place, ask locals how to get around. Maybe back south where we belong."
Tom scowled as he sat up. "We have one thing to do. One. To abandon that is..."
"To admit we're lost? To admit we don't know what's going on? What we really should be doing?"
Tom opened his inventory. He wanted something between him and Max's voice.
They weren't talking about that.
Talking about that... was bad. That way lay madness.
Someone would wake them up. Someone had to. If no one did that meant no one... was able to. Had they abandoned the research center? That would be madness. It would be months before anyone could reach them. That was the point of this location.
Someone had to be around... it didn't make sense otherwise. After all, the pair of them weren't in cryo with the popsicles, so if something bad had happened they didn't have much reason to still be alive. If the cold outside the facility made it in, they'd be a different kind of popsicle that would not be able to play this game. And if time kept on... thirst would probably get them anyway.
No. Someone would find them.
They had to.
They just... had to.
Junk was weighing him down. He swept his hand around, removing stuff that didn't have a purpose. Bandit clothes. Boots. Cloaks.
A basic short sword hit the floor of the cave. "Don't have carrying capacity for all this. If you think it will sell, you can carry some of it. If you think it won't, we'll ditch the junk here."
Max stared at the fire for a moment, but he shrugged. "Fair enough." He picked up the sword, looking it over. He removed its sheathe, holding it out with both hands. There was just enough room on the handle for both.
<
br /> He might not have been feeling much better about things.
Tom moved more things around. He wasn't ready to discuss... problems. "You might be able to use that. Probably worth it if you get into a fight and can't hide."
"You think?"
"Well, not with two hands. I doubt whatever strength you have will make that worth the trouble. Something to consider. Can only do so much from stealth, and those daggers are toothpicks without it."
Max nodded. "They really are. I was looking at the damage calculations. Prone means double damage, unaware also doubles damage, and those stack. Backstab is on top of that, starts at multiplying hits by one point one percent, but increases by a tenth of a percentage for each point invested. With the points I have, that's three point two times damage every time I backstab. Without all that? Daggers suck."
Tom bounced the numbers around in his head. "But with them, there's no reason for the sword. Dump that shit. Go for stealth."
"There may come a day when stealth won't work."
"And on that day you'll do very little damage with a sword you're not proficient with?"
Max frowned at the sword. "Yes?"
"If it makes you feel better, keep the paperweight. It's your inventory." Tom tossed the other mushrooms and roots he had gathered onto the trash pile.
"Hey, wait a sec. We can use those."
"No, we can't. They're poisonous."
"Exactly." Max picked up one of the roots. "I have a poison ability, but it only does a bit of damage over time. Maybe we can use these to do something else."
"Going to shove them down the next bandit's throat?"
"Well, I can knock them out... but no, I meant to coat a weapon or something."
Tom tugged on his beard a bit. "I don't have alchemy."
"I don't either, but it's already poison. How bad can we fuck that up?"
"I guess." Tom shrugged. They may be useful but... they were still not what he had intended.
It was still a problem.
They might be stuck for... well, he didn't know how long. If no one came for them tomorrow...
"Food still won't last and I can't find more."
"Sure you can. We'll find a chicken or something. Doubt there are poisonous chickens running around."
"It's too cold. I haven't seen much wildlife out here."
"Then we'll find a farm and buy a chicken." Max shrugged. "We have money. Or we'll trade them some boots for it."
Tom stared at the rogue for a few moments. "You seem determined to not let any of this get to you."
"What's the alternative?" Max prodded the little fire once more before tossing on another stick. It got bigger, the light brighter and the warmth greater.
Fighting hopelessness was a paladin thing. Not overly befitting a rogue. But... he could understand the sentiment.
"If they don't come tomorrow..." Tom shrugged. "Then what?"
"Then we seek out other players. Do what we need to do to keep on that path until we find them. They might know more. If they don't, we'll still be stronger and saner with help. We'll set up some place safe until all of this gets figured out. Put out word to any other real people."
Tom mulled it over. His quest seemed quite vague beside Max's plan. The longer things kept on as they were, the less likely all of this was just some malfunction. Or at least, the less likely it was a malfunction that could be fixed.
He pushed his bed roll out by the fire and laid back on it. "You're right. We should have headed back to Hilde's place. At least they had food. Warmth. Someone to talk to. Women." He watched the shadows play over the ceiling for a few moments. "I can't keep us safe out here."
"We're doing fine. Don't beat yourself up."
"I'm useless."
"Really? Because I, for one, enjoy having all my blood on the inside. In case you hadn't noticed I can't heal anymore. At all." The sound of steel sliding across a sharpening stone started up from Max's side of the fire. "Besides, that glowing hammer is a neat trick."
"It's low level. Piss poor damage."
"It looks cool, though."
"If you say so."
The rhythmic sound of steel on stone stopped. "You're just not going to be happy, are you?"
"Probably not."
The sharpening started again. "Then we'll head back down tomorrow morning. Should be simple enough from here. We'll stop in at the pub, you can hit on Hilde, and everything will be right with... well, this world."
"She didn't even notice I was there. You're a shoe in, though."
"Okay, but I don't care. Rhonda is out here somewhere. I don't see a reason to hit on NPCs."
"Pfft. A lot of effort was put into modding the game for... evening activities. Honestly I think the higher ups are perfectly aware and allowed it to keep us sane out here."
"I'm not arguing that you shouldn't pursue whatever. I just... have my own goals."
"She'll be fine."
"Because we're batting a thousand out here. And there's two of us." The sharpening stopped again. "I'm worried."
Tom glanced over the fire.
Max sat on his bed roll, a dagger and sharpening stone in hand, posed as if still in use but he'd stopped entirely.
Still as a statue.
"Well I'm not." Tom shrugged a bit. At least, as much as he could lying down. "She's tough. Resourceful. Hell, security trained. She's fine."
"Yeah. Maybe."
"Besides, you're looking at this all wrong."
The grating sound started again. "Please do enlighten me."
"It's not about you. It's about poor Hilde. All alone up in these dreary mountains, only these bulky surly types to talk to. Then a suave young man from the city comes through, and she's smitten. Why wouldn't she be? Look at those cheekbones. She just wants to know something more than what this place can offer. A vision of a better life. And you're giving the poor girl the cold shoulder."
"And somehow all that boils down to sleeping with her."
"Generally, yes."
"You lead a rich fantasy life."
"I try to." Tom nodded. "Wonder if she has a sister. Clearly the same back story applies."
"Oh, obviously. Is that the standard story or does each get their own?"
"I play that by ear. If it's a city girl then I am the bulky surly type, instead. Whatever they aren't used to."
"Yeah..." Max looked over the edge of the dagger before returning it to the stone. "I mostly just hurt people." He put the dagger away. "Before you break into the story about how Hilde's mother never wanted to move up here and is looking for a tall dark stranger to take her away from it all-"
"Oh, I like that."
"Who gets the first shift? It's going to be too cold to move until the sun comes up. I figure that means we each get six hours down, six hours tending the fire."
Tom sat up. "You rest first. I'm not tired."
"After today? You should be."
"I'm not sure I'm done getting rid of my dinner."
Max nodded a few times. "Fair enough." He pointed at the bedroll as he shifted to lie down. "I'll be right here if you need something." He pulled his scarf up to cover his eyes. "Here's to not waking up in here again."
"Right there with you." Tom prodded the fire with his club.
The region chat was... completely dead. Tom paged through hoping to find a sign of anyone else nearby. Someone to talk to, even from a distance. It was too quiet out here...
But no.
The chat channel was empty. Not a peep. Not one line of text.
Not one Chuck Norris joke. Not one person asking for free gold, or to be power leveled.
Just eerie.
He tried to get to the game's forums too, but they seemed to be down. Hell of a time for maintenance. Or the research station's internet was out. Ugh.
None of it made sense.
Well, it was pretty late... but if there was no one else playing, why wasn't anyone getting them out of the damn game?
Maybe there was some other i
ssue.
Maybe it was them.
Just them.
Stuck in here forever while they lay in some med bay, hooked up to monitors while men in lab coats pondered and their bodies withered and...
"I found you."
Tom almost jumped, his eyes searching the dark...
The child from the pub stood at the mouth of the cave, outlined against the moonlight hitting the snow outside more than lit by the fire within.
"What..." Tom shook his head. "Get in out of the cold you idiot."
The child tilted her head slightly, but took a single step closer. "Your offer of hospitality is most gracious."
Weird.
"What in the world are you doing wandering around at this hour, kid?" He squinted at her. "Without so much as a coat?"
She stood in the same rough woolen dress she had worn before. "What is... kid?"
"You. You is kid."
She shook her head. "No. I am Yar."
7
Tom stared at the child for a few moments. "Yar? The God of Lost Marbles, Yar?"
She nodded. "That is my preferred title, yes."
He glanced over at Max. The rogue was lying still, but his chest rose and fell. His face was covered by his red scarf.
Tom shook him. "Hey, wake up."
Max groaned softly. "What's... Oh. Is it my shift already?"
"No." Tom pointed at Yar. "Do you see a kid over there?"
Max leaned up from where he lay, lifting the scarf off his eyes. He laid back down a moment later and rolled over, his back to the fire. "I told you not to eat those mushrooms."
Well... huh.
No fair. He'd kind of hoped he was dreaming. He'd had enough craziness in the last few days.
But then, this was the god of crazy.
When he looked back the child was closer. "You are mine. My only one."
The words hadn't gotten less creepy.
"You mean..." Tom's eyes bounced around the cave. "I'm... your only priest?"
She nodded. "My only follower. A long time ago there were many. Now there is but one." The girl sat on the cold stone floor, her head tilted like a curious dog. "What are you?"
"Umm? What do you mean?"
She pointed at him, then at Max. "You are not like the others. Those in these mountains. You are different."
Tom didn't know what to make of that. Was she asking about them being... players? The answer wouldn't make any sense to her. "We're... not from around here."