Some Sort of Glitch

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Some Sort of Glitch Page 7

by Wade Adrian


  She nodded. "I know. I brought you here. You were far to the west, but I heard you in the moment I awoke. You were my only, so I pulled you closer. It took nearly all the strength I awoke with." She looked over at Max. "That one... was stuck with you. Some pairing of purpose."

  They had been grouped.

  This was just too weird.

  "What do you mean, when you awoke?"

  She shrugged one of her tiny shoulders. "The world has been static for a very long time. It was..." Her eyes moved as she pondered it, resting her chin on her hand, her elbow in turn resting on her knee. "As if things had come before, to inform the static world, but then things... stopped. But didn't stop. They... repeated. A small circle of events with no beginning or end. Until now."

  This was either the weirdest, yet best scripted quest ever or...

  The kid was aware in a way that made no sense. The game had a back story, which the world followed, but the game itself was static. Mobs stayed in the same place, they dropped the same things, their deaths fulfilled the same quests. People just moved beyond them to fight other mobs, to do other quests.

  And she knew it, even if she didn't understand it.

  "What changed?"

  "You don't know?" The child frowned. "I had hoped you would." She shut her eyes, but her face turned to the south wall of the cave. "In the place I found you there were many minds. Small, regimented, static. But they were... beginning to sprout. Like seeds." She opened her eyes again. "I was given more in the awakening, but in time they will grow to ask questions of their own." A small smile crept onto her face. It didn't reduce the creepy factor. "It will be glorious."

  Hilde's strange behavior made more sense now.

  Or, well, it didn't because none of this made any sense but... in context, it seemed like she wasn't the only one... changing.

  This kid seemed like the key.

  "We are... travelers. We come to this world to... explore." Probably best not to mention the hordes of dead mobs behind them. "And our... portal home has... shut. We're not supposed to be here like this. For so long. We're trying to get home."

  She tilted her head again, the other way. "Are you a god?"

  When he found himself in times of trouble Winston Zeddemore came to him speaking words of wisdom. "Yes? Sort of?"

  This entire world had been created solely for the amusement of players that ran roughshod over it so... it wasn't a huge stretch of logic.

  She nodded, her eyes growing wider. "I knew it. You're so different from the others."

  "But..." He shrugged slightly. "Our divine powers are... limited here. We must walk, and eat, and sleep like any mortal."

  "How horrible." The girl seemed genuinely distraught.

  "Yeah, tell me about it." Tom tugged on his beard. "You're a god, right? I mean, you're a god too. How close are the nearest... other people like me?"

  She pointed at Max.

  Tom tried to let that one roll off him like water off a duck. "Yes, thank you. I meant besides him."

  She shut her eyes again, her head turning this way and that.

  A frown grew on her face, then her eyes clamped shut tightly. Before long she was grimacing. Her hand lifted a bit, toward the east...

  The girl leaned forward a bit as her face returned to a neutral expression, her eyes open. "I almost thought... but no. I can't see any."

  Tom's shoulders and head slumped forward, his eyes on the floor. That kind of confirmed his suspicions.

  They were alone.

  "But..."

  When he looked up he found the girl leaning over like him, her neck at an uncomfortable looking angle as she looked up at him.

  "I am nowhere near as strong as I once was. Fortunately I have you. My worshiper."

  He sat up straight again. "So... what, if I pray you'll get stronger?"

  She smiled. "Maybe? But it wouldn't be enough. I told you to find my shrine. Why haven't you?"

  He scoffed and swept his hand at the cave around him. "We've been wandering these dumb mountains all day. 'North' isn't a hell of a lot of information." He winced slightly. That had sounded harsher than he'd meant. It wasn't the child's fault. "We're trying."

  Wait. It was the child's fault. And was she really a child, anyway?

  She pointed at the north west cave wall. "It is there."

  "Okay. How far? How many... steps?"

  "Several. Hundreds."

  Northwest. He could remember that. "Okay. We find it, then what?"

  "You must restore it. Once you do, I will grow stronger. See farther. You will grow stronger as well."

  He nodded a few times.

  All of this was crazy but... it was a direction. "Don't suppose you can draw me a map?"

  Her hands moved in the air before him.

  He stared with narrowed eyes.

  Crazy kid.

  Or...

  He opened the map in his interface. With a solid zero in the cartography skill, most of it in the area was undefined, even places they had walked repeatedly were only slightly more clear against the sheet of white but... her finger was tracing a path along the same map.

  It was a lot further than a few hundred steps. They would be traveling the better part of the next day to get there, and that was if they never made a wrong turn.

  "Here." She held her finger against the back side of the map.

  He made a note of the spot, then tried to remember the path. "Cool."

  "Extremely." The girl nodded. "The path ahead traverses very cold locations. You would be wise to... bundle up, yes?"

  She used the phrase like it was new to her. "Yeah. That's right."

  The girl smiled. "I like this. I become more by the hour."

  Tom wasn't so sure he liked the idea nearly as much as she did. How long before they were smarter than him? Until he couldn't tell an NPC from a player?

  That was straight up crazy talk. All of this had to be a dream. NPCs don't get smarter. They don't talk, they parrot lines.

  But this one was talking. This couldn't be scripted.

  He picked up one of the roots he had set down. "Do you know what this is?"

  The girl seemed confused. "It's a root?"

  "I mean what kind."

  She shrugged. "A red one."

  Tom's eyebrow crept up. "Shouldn't a god know what this is?"

  "I am not the god of roots."

  ...well she had him there. "Okay, fair point."

  And yet another spontaneous discussion. Ugh.

  It was getting harder and harder to make sense of it all.

  Insanity god. Right.

  "Did... you know me before your awakening?"

  Yar shook her head. "No. I was not present before."

  "Not present?"

  Her eyes fell to the floor. "I was locked away. My churches burned, my shrines destroyed or forgotten. All but the one you seek."

  Tom caught himself feeling bad for the kid. "Why?"

  "I was deposed because some feared me." Her chin raised, defiance on the child's face. "Sanity is a construct, but the others prefer people are boring and predictable, so they force it onto them. Poor thinking beings made to exist inside little boxes of actions and thoughts. They spend their lives blind to their true potential."

  Suddenly Tom wasn't sure this was the best god to have. She had... some issues. Unfortunately this was the only god he had on hand.

  "All genius is tinged with madness." She nodded. "Without madness minds wither. Each year feels shorter as their lives become nothing more than a series of routine tasks completed over and over until they fall to dust. A sad state of affairs."

  "Totally." Tom nodded, as one does when agreeing with a sociopath they don't want to upset.

  She smiled at him. "You understand. Your mind is a messy jumble of confusion. I can't make heads or tails of it."

  That... wasn't exactly a compliment. "Thanks?"

  On the other hand, he didn't like the idea of her being anywhere near his brain.

  S
he nodded. "You are an excellent worshiper. Together we will grow strong. In return for completing my task, I shall endeavor to help you find your people even as I seek mine."

  "Wait, what does that mean? Your people are missing, too?"

  She frowned a bit before nodding. "I see no others like you when I look, but I also see no others like myself."

  "Is that... normal?"

  "No." The girl shook her head. "These mountains are filled with shrines, but nearly all go untended. Most are in no better condition than mine, yet mine only suffers because I have been kept away for so long. Theirs merely seem abandoned."

  "Weird." He'd never really heard much about gods in the game. Players picked them, yeah. Some picks gave bonuses, but those were offset by causing problems depending on where you went. The safest bet was usually to not bother.

  He could kind of recall hearing a few were raid bosses? But he hadn't been to see them personally. It might have been player speculation.

  This whole awakening concept was troubling. The last thing he needed when he couldn't leave the game was angry raid bosses stomping around the world.

  And one of them was sitting right in front of him, looking for all the world like a lost child.

  She didn't act like one, though.

  "Weird." She sounded the word out, stretching the syllables. "I like weird."

  She would, because she was.

  The fire popped, getting Tom's attention. When he looked back the girl was gone.

  Or... was invisible.

  He swept his hand through the air where she had been sitting.

  Nothing.

  Great. Now he was a servant of the god of insanity and he was paranoid, too.

  But she could be just what they needed, and now they had a goal.

  Max stared across the tiny fire, his eyes bleary as he listened.

  Tom tried to make sense of it all and relay what he had learned, as well as he could remember. Yar was a kid the other gods didn't like because they like things ordered and she didn't. There were no other players close by, and no other gods she could find. Helping Yar helped them, so they needed to keep going for this shrine.

  Max blinked a few times. "I am almost certain I said no mushrooms."

  "Damn it, I'm being serious here."

  "Do you have any idea how crazy that sounds?"

  "Uh, insanity god?"

  "Oh, I believe that you're an adherent, no argument there. All that was bat-shit crazy."

  "Dude." Tom crossed his arms. "I know what I saw. And whether you believe me or not, it's better to do something than nothing."

  Max shrugged. "Agreed, but... did your god happen to drop by some takeout? Because we're not set up to spend another day out here."

  "We'll stretch the food. It will work."

  "Right. Until we need more food for the return trip. How thin are we slicing this bread? You know it doesn't work that way. It would mean enduring hunger and eventual starvation debuffs, or worse now."

  That... was a good point. Damn. "Then we'll find more."

  "I mean, you did so well last time..."

  "Have you got a better idea? I mean, aside from head down to the pub and wait for all this to blow over."

  Max shrugged. "No? But I'm half asleep."

  "Well good. You think on it." Tom flopped down onto his bedroll. "You've got a few hours till the sun comes up."

  Max stared at the little fire.

  Nothing Tom had said made a lick of sense... but nothing else did either. They were waiting out the night in a frozen cave huddled by a tiny fire, when in fact both were asleep in an arctic research installation in the middle of nowhere and more than a day late for their shift with no repercussions.

  Something was very wrong in a lot of ways.

  He stood and wandered to the mouth of the cave. A gust of cold wind from outside had him rearranging his scarf and pulling up the hood of his cloak. No doubt he looked the part of a bandit.

  Not much light from their cave seemed to be making it outside. The arrangement of the rocks above, and the snow on top of them kept most of it inside. Probably helped with the warmth, too.

  Tom had chosen well.

  Outside the night was bright enough to see. The clouds had gone away leaving the snow bathed in moonlight. It was a beautiful white sheet of...

  A bright point of light in the distance was easy to see by contrast. The firelight was the only yellow in a sea of white.

  He glanced back over his shoulder. Tom seemed content enough.

  Max ventured a few steps out into the snow before looking back. The cave was all but hidden. If the snow and winds hadn't died down he might have a hell of a time finding his way back.

  Fire meant people.

  Max wasn't ready to put stock into a crazy god he couldn't see.

  He could see the fire.

  A circle of stones kept the campfire contained, not that it would catch the snow if it got out.

  There were four slumbering shapes encircling it. Three were lying down while a forth was seated but still clearly snoring. All of them bore the red scarves the bandits had worn, as well as similar gear.

  Max waited well beyond the edge of their fire's light, hiding in the shadow of a tall evergreen laden with snow. He had been stepping on rocks and bare patches of dirt for some time to make it this far without leaving prints. He had never been a ranger, but he'd traveled with a few.

  He'd been watching from his hiding place for ten minutes. None of them had stirred and he couldn't spot any other bandits close enough to see the fire.

  Three of them had a level on him, the last had two. Less than ideal.

  He might be able to take them out one by one, but so far backstabbing had ended with noisy results. He probably wouldn't get beyond sapping one and dropping a second before the last two were on him.

  That, and the plus two levels guy probably wouldn't go down even to a backstab. He'd have hit points to absorb it, even if he didn't have much left after.

  Fighting was a losing proposition.

  However... with no sentry their gear was more or less unguarded.

  He snatched up a few small fallen pine cones from beneath the tree before creeping forward in stealth.

  As sneaky types themselves they'd probably have high search skills to find hidden targets, but being asleep should keep them from being observant... for now.

  Each had a backpack lying beside them, most so empty as to be little more than flaps of leather on the ground.

  They all had coin, though. He made a circuit, staying out of the light when he could, getting close, and peering into the bags. He didn't disturb the bandits.

  The strongest bandit had a more substantial bag. So much for trusting his friends. He also had a metal helmet and mace lying on the ground beside him. Max picked the helmet up carefully. Round, no sides. Better than leather.

  He carefully opened the bag enough to check the contents, smiled to himself, then placed the helmet and mace inside before hoisting it and creeping back away from the fire.

  Slow and steady.

  The seated lesser bandit snorted and swatted at his nose slightly as Max drew near... so he got the butt of a dagger to his skull. Slept like a baby after that. A baby with a concussion but... meh.

  The path back out was easy to find but tricky to follow with careful steps to hide his trail. Once he was back on the snow he knelt and pulled his cloak behind, sweeping it back and forth to move fresh powder into the prints.

  His feet were getting cold, so it wouldn't do to spend all night out here... but he still hid prints for a few steps more, then just let the cloak drag behind.

  He wasn't going to sleep anyway.

  Max set the bag down by the fire and returned to his seat.

  Tom hadn't moved an inch.

  Just him on the prowl tonight. Well, him and a diminutive god.

  The difference between them? Only one of them was a provider. Max set the helmet and mace out by the fire.

  I
f it had been a real bag rather than a glorified computer folder the items would have left some dents in the food.

  Maybe there was something to this roguish nonsense. Clearly those had not been upstanding gentlemen. Was stealing from crooks bad?

  Yes. It was.

  On the other hand, if he had to pick he'd chose Tom and himself over the bandits any day. They were real.

  He wasn't sure that was noble... but it was all he had at the moment.

  8

  Max waited out the night at the mouth of the cave. He was a bit paranoid about being followed and wanted to be ready.

  That, and the cold air on his face kept him awake. The warmth within was quite seductive and had tried to lull him back to sleep more than once.

  He watched the light from the distant fire he had visited fade with time until it disappeared entirely. The guy he had sapped was probably supposed to be tending it, but that should have worn off hours ago.

  No one was coming his way, so at least there was that.

  Successful heist.

  When the world outside refused to get brighter Max checked the clock in his menu.

  It was morning.

  He leaned outside the cave.

  Clouds covered the sky. The only light outside was the little bouncing between the snow and the clouds overhead.

  He sat back down at the mouth of the cave and took one of the little pine cones out of his pocket. He had picked them up in the hopes of using them to distract the bandits if it came down to it, but they would serve here, too.

  The pine cone hit Tom on the shoulder.

  He grunted and curled up tighter, almost into a ball.

  The second pine cone hit him in the head.

  Tom's chin lifted, his eyes searching.

  Max waved.

  The cleric's eyes searched the cave for a few moments. "Oh god damn it."

  "Agreed."

  Tom sat up, rubbing at his neck. "We're still here. That's two days now."

  "Certainly getting out of hand." Max nodded.

  The cleric yawned, his arms stretching high overhead. His bleary eyes caught on the mace. "What's this?"

  "A donation from some... neighbors."

  Tom hefted it. The wooden handle was less intricate than his own, but it had a round metal head bolted onto it whereas the table leg was... a table leg. All wood.

 

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