DLC: A LitRPG Adventure (Beta Tester Book 4)

by Rachel Ford

  So, complaining to himself all the while, Jack got back into the saddle and flew west out of town, along the riverbank.

  To his mounting frustration, he saw the reindeer as soon as the little island came into view. Indeed, they were exactly where he’d spotted them when he’d played on Team Krampus. “Mother trucker.”

  Jack collected Donder and Dasher, and they put up no resistance at all. They flew, all three reindeer and Jack, toward Winter’s toppled carriage. Then they landed, and he pulled out the hardware Estelle had given him.

  Jack knew nothing at all about harnessing horses – or reindeer – to a sleigh. Luckily, the game did the hard work for him. He simply exchanged the cut pieces for the ones she’d given him, with no more than a touch and a thought: he reached out his hand with the new pieces, and thought about making the swap; and it was done.

  This was a three deer rig, and, with Dancer in the lead, Jack urged them, “Alright, forward. But slowly. We need to right the sleigh.”

  He needn’t have worried, though. At his command, the reindeer sprang forward a few steps, and the sleigh conveniently plopped into place. Videogame physics again.

  Jack jumped aside, brushed the snow off the seat, and plopped down. “Alright. Get me back home.”

  The sun had just started going down. Estelle was waiting for them when they returned with a small loading crew of elves, and a half dozen sleighs full of gifts. His companions had turned out for him too. All but Migli, who was, he guessed, still in full pursuit of Miss Mint.

  Estelle met him as he disembarked. “Well done, Jack. Very well done.

  “Now, I must ask a further favor of you. I had meant to do it myself. But mother has woken, and she is not well. I must stay with her. You understand, I’m sure?”

  He managed an, “Of course.”

  “I must ask you – and I hope it is not too great an imposition. But my father brought you here with his dying wish. I think, in his own way, he knew what was going to happen. He knew that you would deliver us all.

  “So I want to ask you, will you take the reins tonight? Will you make the deliveries? Will you, for this one night, wear the cloak of Father Winter?”

  Chapter Thirteen

  He’d known all along it was going to happen, of course. But that didn’t mean it aggravated him less. Still, Jack accepted the mantle of the dead Father Winter. What other choice had he had?

  None.

  Then, Estelle had told him she had a list with all the instructions he’d need. He had only to pick a companion to join him. “Just one. With the weight of the gifts, we can’t risk more passengers than that. But a good companion will help you as you bring cheer to the Vale.”

  Then, before Jack had a chance to choose, she added, “But, if it is not too great of a favor, might I ask that you leave Er’c and Ceinwen with me? If you do not mind, I would like to employ their martial expertise in an examination of our defenses. Now that Krampus is making his move, I believe we cannot be too careful.”

  Jack sighed. “Sure. Keep them.”

  “Thank you, Jack. Then you should choose from your remaining companions.”

  “Alright. In that case –”

  “Although, if I may make a further suggestion?”

  He’d offered an, “Of course,” from behind clenched teeth and a fake smile.

  She lowered her voice, until it was a whisper so low that the others could not hear. “You may wish to consider a companion whose experience would be relevant.”

  Jack considered for a moment. Shimmerfax was out, of course, because he was a horse. Or a unicorn, or whatever. “So…not Migli, since he’s a bard. That wouldn’t be very useful. Not that he ever is…”

  “Correct. And, anyway, I do believe he might be otherwise engaged.”

  Jack shivered, thinking of poor Miss Mint, and her terrible taste in men. “Right. Then…Arath?”

  Estelle’s brow furrowed. “Really? Are you certain?”

  “Well…no. But I don’t really have any other choices, so…”

  “There’s always Karag.” She shrugged. “I know, historically, our people have not gotten on well. But there is a light in him that I see, even if he does not see it himself. And he has skills that I think you will find helpful.”

  He frowned. “Really? I’m not going to kill anyone, am I?”

  She laughed. And not a little laugh, either. She laughed until her entire body trembled and her eyes watered, and then she laughed and cried at the same time. Jack wasn’t sure what to do with that. After a space, when she kept making the same noises, he reached out a hand to her shoulder, petting it gingerly. “There, there. It’ll be alright.”

  She shook her head. “No. No, I’m not sad. I’m – I’m happy. Truly, Jack. It’s the first time I’ve laughed since – well, since the news.” She blotted her eyes with a handkerchief and composed herself. “Truly, I am alright. I just – well, I needed that.

  “But no, you’re not going to kill anyone.” She giggled at that and fought the giggles for half a minute further. Then, winning that particular fight, she said, “I just mean, his previous work involved a good deal of discretion.”

  He nodded. That was a point he couldn’t argue, anyway. But he still saw one glaring, giant-sized problem with the plan. “Okay. But – he’s a giant.”

  “And?”

  “Well, he’s – giant. There’s no way he’ll fit down a chimney.”

  “Oh, is that all? You needn’t worry. You wouldn’t fit down a chimney normally either. But you’re wearing the mantle of Father Winter. You will fit. You both will fit.”

  So Jack agreed, and she smiled, the sort of smile that made all his annoyance fade. “Good. You won’t regret it, Jack. Oh.” She paused, rifling through an inside pocket in her great, shimmering cape. A moment later, she pulled a glittering wand. “You will need this.”

  “What is it?”

  “It’s the wand of good tidings. We always try to anticipate the residents’ needs in advance. But, when you’re on the ground, if you find that we’ve missed anything…if you find someone in distress, or some new trouble afflicting one of the residents…just use this wand. It will fix it.”

  That had been that, then. He’d stuffed the wand between the cushions of the sleigh. The elves loaded the vehicle down with gifts.

  Jack told Karag he’d selected him as a companion, and the giant gave him a sideways look. “Well, I am at your command, of course.”

  Then, he spoke to Ceinwen and Er’c, telling them that Estelle might need their expertise to secure the North Pole against Krampus. They nodded, assuring him that they would offer any help they could.

  And then the sleigh was ready, and they were whipping through the now darkened night toward the Vale. The North Pole settlement got smaller and smaller behind them, until it disappeared altogether.

  “I’m surprised,” Karag said, with a velvety smoothness to his voice that set alarm bells off in Jack’s mind, “that that Winter’s daughter would allow a giant into the homes of her people. Then again, I suppose she doesn’t trust me out of your sight. I suppose she told you I needed some kind of handler?”

  Jack rolled his eyes. “My God, Karag, I’ve never met anyone more paranoid than you. First poison, and now this.”

  “I wasn’t wrong about the poison, though, was I?”

  “Yes you were. I wasn’t poisoned.”

  “So you say. But you looked like you’d been poisoned. Then you drank an antidote, and you recovered. I’m no expert on these things, of course, but that sounds like poison to me.”

  “I’m not going to argue. You were wrong about that, and you’re wrong about this. She thought you would be able to help me.”

  “Did she indeed?”

  “She did. She told me your particular skills might be useful.”

  “Really? And how can a humble wine merchant help the great Father Winter?”

  Jack snort-laughed. “Come, Karag: you are no more a wine merchant than I am Father Winter. An
d she knows it. Which is why she suggested I take you.”

  “Ah. So it was her idea then, was it?”

  “Of course. I didn’t realize you’d be able to fit down the chimneys.”

  Karag nodded, as if satisfied on some point. “I believe that makes me two for two today, Jack.”

  “What?”

  “First the poison, and now this: she couldn’t wait to get me out of her sight, so she sent me away with you.”

  “Karag, that’s not why.”

  “Of course. Whatever you say, my friend. I am a humble merchant, and she believes my delivery skills will be of the greatest assistance. We are, all of us, innocent and pure as the driven snow.”

  Karag said no more as they flew, and Jack gave up trying to persuade him to see reason. He hadn’t examined his list yet, and he figured he should do that. He didn’t know if he’d be on a timer like he had been with Krampus, but he had a gut feeling he would be. The different quest paths seemed to mirror each other more or less so far: both had involved finding the reindeer, albeit for very different reasons, and both had involved Christmas Eve deliveries to the people of the Vale. It followed that both deliveries would be timed.

  His objectives were clear enough:

  Deliver gifts to fifty percent of the good residents of Pleasant Vale (homes marked by stars on Father Winter’s map).

  Deliver a lump of coal to the naughty residents (homes marked by lumps of coal on Father Winter’s map).

  Use the wand to help residents in immediate need. [optional]

  And there, just below his objectives, was a note confirming his suspicion:

  You must finish your work before the timer runs out, so that you can be back to Father Winter’s ice palace by sunrise. The more holiday cheer you spread, the happier the residents of the Vale will be. Try to get a perfect score for special perks.

  He glanced over the map. By now, he was pretty familiar with it, and he began at his previous starting point: the mayor’s house.

  This time, they weren’t sneaking through the yard. Dancer, Dasher and Donder landed on the roof, which sloped at an angle that rather put Jack’s heart in his mouth. He sat inside the sleigh, peering out and down.

  “We should take the wand of good tidings,” Karag suggested. “You never know who will need our help.”

  Jack snorted. “This is the mayor’s house, Karag. The richest guy in town. I’m pretty sure he can buy himself out of any problems he’s got. And if not, there’s plenty of hot chocolate in the kitchen to drown his woes in.”

  So, leaving the wand where he put it, he closed his eyes and stepped out of the sleigh. He didn’t slip or fall to his death. He remained on his feet and remained where he stood. He opened his eyes, took a breath, and turned to the chimney.

  This proved a rather tremendous hurdle, though of the psychological variety rather than the physical. Physically, he had only to pull himself onto the top of the chimney and step into the void; and it was done. Psychologically, it was another matter altogether. He was about to jump into a tiny black hole – a hole that seemed to go on forever and ever. And worse yet, he didn’t know for sure that there was no fire blazing at the end of his fall. Sure, he didn’t see smoke. But what if someone was just kindling it?

  It felt in the moment like standing at the mouth of hell, getting ready to take the fateful step down, down, down…

  “You need to go down,” Karag told him after a long while. “The stockings don’t come up to us. We have to go down to them.”

  “I know,” he snapped back. “Just…I’m not sure I want to.”

  Karag settled the matter rather decisively, with a hard shove that sent him off the edge of the chimney and into the dark pit.

  He tried to scream and flail his arms, but he couldn’t find his voice. He felt air rushing all around him, and smelled a faint, sooty odor.

  Then he landed, gently and upright, like he’d done nothing more strenuous than take a step.

  Jack blinked into a dark room, trying to get his bearings. The smell told him where he was before anything else: peppermint, cinnamon, sage and myrrh assailed his senses. The kitchen.

  He pulled himself out of the fireplace, brushing soot off his clothes. A moment later, and a soft thud sounded behind him. Then Karag’s voice said, “You mind moving? Can’t say I’m a big fan of the view…”

  The view, of course, was Jack’s backside, since it was blocking the way out. “Very funny,” he snapped. Still, he moved. “And I didn’t appreciate the shove, Karag.”

  “Oh, I do apologize for that, Jack. It was an accident. I lost my footing, you see, and…” He mimed stumbling.

  Jack’s scowl only deepened. “My backside,” he said. Which wasn’t what he’d meant to say, even if it did convey the same sentiment.

  “I’d really rather not return to that particular topic. I’ve had my share of it for the day. Come on, Jack: this way.”

  Karag led him out of the kitchen, the sack of gifts slung over his back, and Jack followed, scowling all the way. He didn’t know what Estelle was thinking, but he was convinced she had to be out of her mind to saddle him with the giant.

  “We’re going to have to visit half a dozen separate hearths here,” Karag said in a low whisper.

  Jack felt sure he’d misheard. “What?”

  “There’s many different hearths, and each family or person has hung their stockings separately. Klaus has one in his chambers, and Cristobal in his, and then the servants have their own.”

  Jack groaned. It was bad enough that the game had him running around like a fool from house to house. Did he really need to run around inside the houses, too?

  Karag ambled on heedlessly, though, and he followed. They started with the house servants, whose quarters were on the lower story. They were not quite as fine as the chambers they’d visited on their first trip to the mayor’s mansion. Still, Jack had to admit that both the size and style didn’t differ much between these residences and the master’s.

  Their first stop was a wing reserved for a young family. “Head footman and housekeeper,” the giant intoned, reading off the list. “And their three little ones.”

  Jack shook his head at the thought of three kids. “Cause they don’t have enough to do?”

  But Karag ignored him. He crouched beside the family’s door, rifled through his pack and produced a set of lockpicks, then got to work.

  “Wait, you know how to pick locks too?” Jack hissed.

  The other man shrugged. “You know, I quite forget where I learned it. But a useful skill, don’t you think? Ah. There we go.” He touched a finger to his lips and smiled. Then, he turned the handle. The door swung quietly inward.

  Karag crept inside, taking slow, careful steps. Jack followed him, cringing every time he put down his feet. Somehow, despite their relative size and weight difference, the giant managed a much quieter step than he did.

  They ignored the sleeping quarters – four separate rooms, all off a large central area – and concentrated instead on the living area. A great fir tree, all decked out in garlands and tinsel, sat in the center of the communal room. Against a far wall, a large fireplace sat, smoldering. Five red stockings hung from hooks on the mantlepiece, each embroidered with a name.

  “I’ll fill the stockings,” Karag whispered, “if you want to put the gifts under the tree?”

  Jack didn’t want to. But the clock was ticking. He saw that, now, and he assumed it had started ticking the moment Karag pushed him down the chimney. So he nodded, and the giant set the sack of gifts down, as lightly and softly as if it was a feather.

  Jack rifled through it, picking out the ones addressed to the family, and stacking them up under the tree. There were a lot of gifts, particularly for the children. It seemed that every time he thought he’d got the last of them, he’d find another. Finally, though, the game put a checkmark by the family’s name, signifying that he’d delivered everything he was meant to, to this household. “Let’s go,” he told Karag,
who had already wrapped up his own work.

  The giant hoisted the sack onto his shoulder and crept back out. Jack followed, closing the door behind them. Karag nodded. “Well done, Jack. Next is Miss Joy, the scullery maid.”

  In this way, they went through the bottom floor deliveries. Then, they moved on to the top floor. Here, there were only two recipients: the mayor himself, and Klaus, whose elevated status in the mayor’s household earned him an entire wing of the upper story.

  Karag let them into Cristobal’s chambers the same way he’d done everywhere else: by picking the lock. By now, Jack had started to think Estelle was onto something. Having a giant around to lift an endless sack of toys wasn’t a bad idea. Neither did it hurt to have an Obsidian Isles scoundrel in tow when you needed to break in.

  Of course, that was an aspect of the game that didn’t make any sense at all. If these fools expected Father Winter to leave gifts, why on earth would they lock their doors on him? Unless…we’re supposed to go down separate chimneys for each person.

  The mayor’s mansion had dozens of chimneys, after all, and dozens of fireplaces. Maybe they were supposed to figure out which one led to which residence, rather than breaking and entering all over the house.

  Jack just shrugged the thought away, though. The fewer times he had to make that bizarre journey down a chimney shaft, the better.

  Cristobal had left out milk and cookies, with a note. Karag took care of the gifts while Jack worked on the cookies. It seemed rude, he thought, to ignore cookies that had been left out for him. And when it came to eating cookies, Jack found himself quite adverse to rudeness.

  While he munched away, he glanced over the note.

  To my esteemed friend and colleague, Father Winter:

  Dear sir,

  I hope I do not presume too much to call you a colleague, but I feel that you and I, in our different ways, are very much colleagues – partners, even – in the stewardship of Pleasant Vale’s morale. You, of course, are responsible for the seasonal splendor and I, in my far more modest fashion, take on the day-to-day mayoral duties.