With a shout, she called for yet another warrior to join us, who came holding a thick bundle of sticks. I recognized them at once. Huth'Ga pushed one at Mjorn, who stared at it dumbly as she chuckled.
“You allowed him to leave a trail of these behind you, and indeed we found five players who would have been on you by nightfall. They are kept well enough in my company, but if they had found you alone... well, my scouts tell me that they have been very intent on growing their seeds.” She grinned evilly at Mjorn. “It appears that you have completed your task in spite of yourself, though by no means will I pay you full price for stumbling backward into it. Let me see this one!”
Mjorn pushed me forward. I didn’t appreciate being closer to the giant insects, but most of my view of them was blocked by the towering trio of orcs. As they gathered around me to poke and prod, I tried to stand tall. I might have been on the block, but even so I wanted to impress. They seemed to care much more about my equipment though, and even that only in passing. It’s not as though I had enough to require an extensive look. Huth'Ga cuffed my shoulder and muttered “show us your spells,” almost absentmindedly as she examined my necklace.
I did so, surprised an NPC could have access to my UI. There wasn’t any point in resisting, really. Mac and Co. were already captured, and I was surrounded by a small army of orcs. I certainly didn’t care to risk another death. Huth'Ga’s eyes narrowed as she examined my interface. “What is this, player? You have spells from every tree, but no seed?!”
Mjorn gasped, and I realized that he hadn’t even bothered to look at my Character Sheet. I was starting to think that as handsome and heartless as he was, he really wasn’t very smart.
Unsure of what she would understand, I tried to keep my explanation simple. Huth'Ga snorted in amusement.
“Truly, I don’t know whether I would call you gifted or cursed. You have spells far beyond your compatriots, but without a mana seed you will learn no more of them. Strange magic indeed...” She read each of my spells aloud to her companions, eliciting particular excitement as she came to Blizzard and Flame Jet, which I knew were my highest two from the elemental trees. I noted, however, that she passed over my Ether spells. Perhaps she didn’t see them, and if so, more to my benefit. It never hurts to have an ace up your sleeve. Or three, in my case. Plus, if I was truly as much of a mess as she said I was—which I was—then my Ether spells were the only facet of my character that might balance it out.
She turned back to Mjorn, expression souring. “By no merit of yours, I have what I need—and I will have the remaining rings and a third of the commission I’ve given you. This one is barely worthy of the bounty, but accounting for the others you’ve brought to me by accident, I think the price fair.”
In spite of his fear, Mjorn’s face turned red. “He is worth double the bounty on his own, with the spells you read! And the strange magic...” he cried, sputtering as he realized that, so far as he could tell, all my “strange magic” could manage was some unusual but largely unimpressive enchantments. He altered his tactics. “My company has combed this forest for a week, and we will not be robbed!” His hand rested on the pommel of his knife, and Remaldra’s hand moved to hers in support.
It was the wrong move. Huth'Ga’s retinue instantly became a bristling mass of swords, spears, and arrows.
Mjorn’s hand jumped from his dagger as if scalded, and his tone became plaintive instead. “Please, kind lady. I meant no offense. My people truly have made every effort to fill the bounties you gave us, and to return the commission would leave us destitute. Please, allow me to make a gift to you of the items he has made since his capture. You say these other players are seedborn—this gear will greatly amplify their powers!”
This was too much for Huth'Ga, who doubled over and roared with laughter. Mjorn looked confused. “You… you fool man!” she wheezed. “They already wear his gear! He has been outfitting them even as you held him captive! Had we not found the others for you, this boy would have been selling you to me! That, or you would have made a very handsome crater in the forest somewhere.”
“Here is what will be done,” she addressed me. “Young man, you appear to be the only one with any sense in this caravan. Do Mjorn and his people deserve what he asks?”
Mjorn’s face turned a shade of purple that was decidedly not handsome. Oh, Huth'Ga did not like him. Even though she was negotiating the price of purchasing me, I couldn’t help but love her for that.
I made a show of examining Mjorn and Remaldra, and they glowered at me in return. Remaldra’s fingers twitched almost imperceptibly toward her belt knife. “Well,” I began, “his people did seem to be looking very hard, but... he also slit my throat and gave me this.” I held up my arm, displaying the gash he had opened in my forearm that morning. I left out the fact that he’d stolen my first kiss, though that carried a greater weight to my mind.
“Mjorn is so concerned about his people, let’s leave them the full share,” I suggested to the orc. Mjorn and Remaldra both widened their eyes in surprise, but then I struck home. “Could we arrange to split these two’s shares among the rest of their people though? They do seem to enjoy sharing.” Oh, it felt good needling him. And her, for acting a friend while her husband seduced me.
Huth'Ga raised an eyebrow. “It sounds as if your guest was impressed with your generosity, Mjorn. I, for one, am impressed with his, though he presumes to be generous with my gold.” Yup, there was some definite side-eye there. I worried about overstepping my bounds, but Huth'Ga didn’t seem too upset.
“Is that what we do, Mjorn? You will divvy your own shares among the companions you care so very much for?” Mjorn looked green, but nodded. It was doubtful that he would follow through, but Huth'Ga seemed to be enjoying needling him nearly as much as I had, and didn’t seem truly worried as to whether it would happen.
“Then we are done here!” the orc announced brusquely, turning to the warrior women at her back. “I would like to be home by nightfall. And I would like to be away from these two. Mjorn,” she raised her voice to call behind her, “please retrieve for me the rings and the cynosure, and then do me the great favor of not returning to our lands. Neither your charm nor your ineptitude are welcome here. Let us be off!”
One of Huth'Ga’s escorts took responsibility for marching me to the other prisoners as Mjorn transferred the bracelet to Huth'Ga and handed her the pouch with the rings. Mac looked casually interested in my arrival, until I let her know that Huth'Ga had already inferred our relationship, at which point she broke into a smile and welcomed me back. The rest of the party looked stoic, except for Varba, who glared at me as if I were something she’d scraped off her boot.
The pleasure that I’d taken in bringing Mjorn down to size evaporated as I realized how this looked. They had taken to searching for me at what could only have been Mac’s insistence, had sunk multiple days into the search, and were now captive alongside me. Shame washed over me, dwarfing even my reluctance to mount one of the giant insects. I didn’t have much say in where I rode—our mounts didn’t even have reins—but I resolved, at the very least, not to bother anyone during the ride. Me’Almah was mounted next to me and appeared satisfied with the silence. Truly, my impulse was to get away from Mac and her friends again. I didn’t want to continue being a bother to them, but that wasn’t an option anymore.
Huth'Ga gave a call, and my mount lifted its body smoothly into the air, swiftly reaching a pace that ensured a smooth ride in spite of its speed. I had to marvel at that; I’d spent enough time on horses that I expected to be bounced around, but having six legs at work made the ride feel akin to being aboard a magic carpet, although a magic carpet that might nibble.
For the first time in a long time, I had nothing to do. I didn’t want to risk exposing my Ether spells by casting, and there was nothing to craft, so I simply watched the scenery pass and castigated myself, my mood sinking lower in time with the sun.
Our captors were a party made up entirely of
orcs, with perhaps two dozen members. Scouts came and went from the edges of the group as it split and reformed with regularity to flow around obstacles in its way, so it was hard to get an exact count. To my surprise, every single member of the party was female. Some near Huth'Ga were decked out in scattered pieces of plate and chainmail, but most were arrayed in leather. They were all armed.
The ground itself seemed to take on the gray of the trees as twilight approached, and at first I thought it to be a trick of the light. The effect intensified, however, until it was obvious that something was drastically wrong. Wrong, but familiar. Closing my eyes to hide the mist effect, I engaged Ether and saw that my suspicions were correct. What I'd done to the patch of grass in the starting area had been done here on a grand scale. Mana still moved everywhere around us, but not in anywhere near the magnitude of the healthy forest we’d left, and not in the dynamic currents I’d come to recognize. No, this mana moved with purpose, flowing along with us as we rode farther into the gray.
Something out there was disintegrating the forest in a big way, and we were riding right toward it.
Chapter 18
It was fully night when the war party made its destination. The orcs and their insect mounts never seemed to consider stopping for the dark. Instead, a wizened orc woman riding near Huth'Ga called some words that seemed to slip and wriggle as they made their way through the crowd, hinting at eyeless things that slink beneath the water of caves that never see the sun. Though I saw no change personally, the dwarf, Slynx, muttered to the group that the woman had cast Dark Vision. Judging by how confidently the orcs moved through the forest, I figured he must have had the right of it.
Moonlight sifted easily through empty branches, marking out silver trunks brilliant against the shadows. The only sound was the steady staccato patter of the insect mounts’ feet and the subdued whisk whisk of their mandibles, all of which joined with the smooth and swift gait for a ghostly ride that seemed to invite sleep. Prior nights of wakefulness conspired with the general atmosphere to pull me under.
It wasn’t a restful sleep, however. Mjorn and my father merged in the hazy drowse to berate me for how foolish, and lazy, and disappointing I was, and again and again Mac and her friends turned away from me: this time because I had led them into a trap, this time because they had grown powerful and I was worthless to them, this time because they had discovered what Mjorn had discovered.
When the convoy’s gait slowed, I had to pull myself awake through a cloud of compunction and contempt that was reluctant to release me.
In the dark, I could see patches of light. Some were the wavering flicker of torchlight. Most were steady and bright, like yellow-tinted versions of the globe in Mjorn’s cabin. The mounted horde began to break apart well shy of the clustered lights as warrior women moved off to find their beds.
Following a low-voiced conversation with our guards, after which they moved some way off, Huth’Ga approached our group. Only the elderly Dark mage stayed at her side. Tersely, Huth’Ga ordered each of the other players to don a ring from the familiar pouch she now wore at her side. The bracelet Mjorn had returned to her glittered on her enormous wrist. Mac shrugged, then put hers on, and the others followed suit. Opening my mouth to stop them, I caught a dire look from the orc. I briefly considered warning them anyway, but if I died, I would respawn here alone. They would return to town—or wherever they were bound—and somehow that fate was more painful than the threat of what Huth'Ga might do. And so, I watched as Huth'Ga commanded them to bind themselves to the cynosure and then to show her their stats. She nodded with satisfaction as the curse activated and their mana, HP, and stamina bars all dropped to 10 points.
The gasps and obscenities that followed were understandable, and it wasn’t just Varba who turned to glare at me this time. Katz joined her in shooting daggers my direction, and Mac gave me a long, considering look that made my gut shrivel. I opened my mouth to apologize—to explain—but there was nothing to say, so I ducked my head and turned away. There wasn’t any hiding from the fact that I had gotten them into this mess.
Huth'Ga bid goodnight to our guards and left us in their care. They moved us deeper into the field of lights until we approached the mouth of a cave, illuminated by two hanging lamps and crisscrossed by iron bars that made its function clear. Mac led the rest of us inside what turned out to be a cramped hollow that barely fit the six of us and smelled as if its usual inhabitants weren’t humanoid. The bars clanged shut behind us, but Mac didn’t waste any time worrying about that. She immediately beckoned the party into a huddle.
“Zen, don’t give me that shit!” she muttered forcefully when she saw me pull back from the group. “Out of any of us, you know best what’s going on, so get out of your pity party and get your ass over here!”
Varba cracked her knuckles threateningly. “Yeah, kid, come over here.” She glowered over her long nose.
“Not helpful, Varba," Mac reprimanded, but without heat. “He’s shown that he’s clever enough, and we’re going to need every bit of clever we can muster to get out of this shit. Now, Zen, why no warning on the rings?”
I admit that I ugly cried. It had been days since I’d seen a friendly face, and confronting how lonely I’d been brought it all to the forefront at once. The story in its entirety didn't take long to tell, but when I’d calmed down I explained to them how Mjorn had tricked me, minus the seduction, and what I’d stood to lose if they had all respawned back in Kalsip. Through my sniffles, I apologized.
It was Varba, of all people, who moved over to me and, unable to reach my back, began to rub behind my knee. “Hey," she said. “It's alright. It's alright... It's just a game, and we’re all going to be fine. The rest of us have been through things like this before, and we’ll get through it together. They won’t have set up a questline that there’s no way out of. We just have to be patient," she reasoned. “And Mac’s right; you've already proven yourself, but we all make mistakes. In fact, Slynx there once had us spend two weeks on a quest chain that ended up costing us millions of gold just to be rewarded with a puke-green tabard and a “Lover of Filth” title. You haven’t reached Slynx levels of terrible yet.”
In spite of the dim light, I could see Slynx’s grin. He didn’t seem too upset about the comparison, but Varba’s words did help me feel better. “Now, let’s not bother focusing on things we can’t change. Let’s just get to work cleaning up this spilled milk,” she concluded. Nodding, I wiped my nose on my sleeve and worked to calm myself down. She was right. We could only do what we could do, and it was time to buck up and buckle down.
“First order of business is the quest," Mac announced. “Everyone fail it?”
Around the cavern, heads nodded in agreement.
“Quest for what?” I asked.
Slynx chuffed through his beard. “To rescue you, of course. Think we’d be out here in the woods if there wasn’t a reward involved?”
“What Slynx means,“ Mac clarified, giving the dwarf a sharp look, “is that we wouldn’t have known you needed rescuing, if we hadn’t gotten the quest.”
“Well, that was nice of the game," I said, though discovering they had received a quest to find me did, counterintuitively, make me feel a bit better. It moved some of the blame for their predicament off my shoulders and onto the game itself, though it did mean the group—Mac included—didn’t necessarily feel particularly strongly about me...
***
A squad of guards came to gather us as soon as the gray morning light started filtering into our cell, the dim glow exacerbated by the pallor of our surroundings. In the light we could see that the cave, the ground, and the bars all shared the gray tone of the forest. Ether showed that mana was flowing more thickly here, but faster as well, as though we stood on the edge of a whirlpool. The guards shackled our hands and feet and led us out into still more gray.
The village we trudged through was desolate. Small huts and houses stood opposite a rock face dotted with the mouths of c
aves, but the only color came from the village’s inhabitants. The pops of green, to purple, to black orc skin stood out starkly against the gray, as though the living were there visiting some ghostly dimension. Still, the few people walking about looked determined to get on about their day. They didn’t take much note of their washed-out surroundings.
As we walked, I began to be distracted, catching uncanny movement out of the corner of my eyes. Unnerved by what already felt like a ghost town, I was first relieved and then horrified to find that I was catching tiny puffs of dust that rose occasionally underfoot. Dust that was too fine to be dust. I had seen that kind of dust before. It was mana ash. The entire village was disintegrating.
Nudging Me’Almah, I filled her in. She nodded grimly.
Our group, prisoners and guards, came to a break in the rock face and began to ascend, moving past caves and huts that showed signs of their inhabitants stirring. Smoke funneled out of cave mouths and up into the sky, bringing with it the scent of breakfasts being prepared, though even that seemed a little gray.
The homes along the rock face were arranged in three rough tiers, and our destination appeared to inhabit the uppermost level. I had scouted the village cursorily the night before while we made our plans, and I recognized the building. It was a large, circular building. A yurt? Constructed of wood and hides—though it was difficult to tell the two apart without any color—it appeared to have been built in order to accommodate a crowd. Our guards pulled open the doors and waved us inside.
Once we were through, a new set of guards moved to flank us, then marched us forward into the center of the room.
My guess on the purpose of the building turned out to be correct. It was a meeting hall, each side circled by low benches that, judging by what I knew of the state of the village, I personally wouldn’t have risked sitting on. The thought of an entire row of enormous, stern orc women tumbling to the ground as a bench gave way tickled me, but my focus was quickly drawn back to the business at hand.
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