by Kit Falbo
I take out the list Vale gave me, Transformations in Progress by Marlow, New Faces Same Places by Marlow, Ugly No More by Marlow. This Marlow fellow was certainly a prolific writer. Three more books are on the list, Marlow by Marlow written by Marlow, Physical Transformations by Erikson, and lastly Fixing Marlow’s Mistakes by Farnsworth. People may go missing here, but it still looks like just a dusty old storage room to me.
There is a click, and a tile beneath my foot sinks down. I freeze, half expecting to be riddled with darts or fall into a pit. I wait, and I wait, and nothing happens, I move my foot. The whole room rumbles and the two passages appear in the wall straight ahead of me, one partially blocked by crates. Great, a maze, I look to Cook who has been peering into crates. “You up for doing a little scouting?”
“Scary.”
“Would you rather go back to Lady Else’s house and hang out there?”
“Not that scary.”
“See, there is always something worse. Do the rightmost one, then come running back if you see anything dangerous or find any books or that long mold.”
Cook goes that way, and I wait, picking through the crates. Left shoe, no sign of the right; broken glassware; worn robe; attached to the robe I see an old pin. Badge of the SpellWorks. I doubt Vale would refuse me one, but this means I won’t even need to ask. I unpin it and put it in my bag. The next crate is even worse. Most of what is in there is just labeled junk or garbage when I analyze it.
I’m hit with a brief tingling spasm. A notification pops up.
Your familiar has died.
I’m also down about twenty percent of my hit points. I check the spell, there is a twenty-four-hour casting restriction on casting the spell to revive and re-summon the familiar. A red clock next to it slowly counts down the seconds, minutes, hours. The Dark Vision buff is still on, but I only have an hour and forty minutes to find a light source, or I’m stuck in the dark.
I look at the door Cook had gone through and the other partially blocked one. I guess I’ll take the one half blocked by crates. Can’t be any worse than the one Cook died in. I start shifting the crates out of the way, peeking in them while I do. Why even keep any of this junk? Of course, maybe the next adventurer coming down will be looking for a, I touch a random piece of junk, broken Rambaldi crystal. For them, finding a smithing mold for a staff would be junk, as much as this stuff is junk to me.
The crates and piles of stuff extend into that room, overwhelm it, as though all the crates and clothes and mishmash I have passed until this point consisted of all things that had not made it into this room, you could still the maze a room. The room turns into a twisting corridor, with walls made of boxes and crates. So narrow I can just fit through them. Poor Cook. It would have been nice to have an extra set of eyes in here. This time, even the Dark Vision can’t negate the creepiness of being surrounded by walls of stuff. Things like a doll’s arm and a wand are sticking out, sandwiched between boxes. I spot one book, but it turns out to be Poems for Naughty Children.
The path splits three ways I wonder how big this room is. I must have passed under and beyond the base of the tower by now.
The proper way to complete a maze is to pick one side, right or left, and just follow it to completion. I’m just not sure I have time. I follow the left side, picking up the pace as I search for anything close to what I’m hunting for. I find several more books, none on the list, but flip through one called Transforming Yourself. It turns out to be a self-help book.
I finally find Marlow by Marlow, at this rate, I’ll have to waste another day here tomorrow. Still no sign of what caused people not to come back from their basement visits. I continue following the left wall, one sharp turn then I’m suddenly no longer crowded in by stuff. There are people just ahead. “Hello?” I call out. None of them move, so I walk to the closest one, It’s not quite a statue. It’s a person wearing a wizard’s long white robes with the pin of the Spellworks attached. The man is preserved in a bluish amber film that covers him from head to toe. Probably dead. Then I see him blink.
I jump back a little. If this wasn’t a game, I would totally leave. I make my way forward, and the number of frozen people grows. In the silence of the room, I hear a faint murmuring. Hidden mostly by a mass of frozen members of the Order of Spellworks is a woman, pink like a flamingo, naked except for the censored spots. Her tail twitches idly, keeping just inside a glowing circle. The circle is roughly six feet in diameter, that I know enough to know she’s probably trapped in. I see a notice above her head: Archdevil, status: Neutral. If I hadn’t earned that achievement from Gar, I would probably already be dead.
“You’re not one of those Spellworks buffoons, are you? I’m still mad at them for this.” Her words come out in a throaty purr. She cocks her head to the side, more like a cat looking at something they want to get than any human interaction.
“No ma’am, just looking for some things.”
“So polite. It’s been years since I’ve had new company. Come here.” Her tone left no the possibility of refusal.
Running would possibly make her hostile to me. I walk forward to the edge of the circle, not stupid enough to cross it. She looks me up and down in a predatory manner. “I could add you to my collection.” She pauses. “Oh, that spell won’t work on you. You’re something different.” I guess too many players would complain if their character is frozen for years. “I could kill you still, though the smell would linger for a while.” Her nose scrunches up, clearly thinking about how the smell would be worse than my death.
I smile, “I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you that way. I’m merely looking for some books and a mold for casting a metal staff.” I hold up the list Vale had given me.
“Oh, a treasure hunt, though this is more a shopping list than a search for anything valuable, and there are valuable things here. I know where those trinkets you seek are. If I help you, will you help me?”
I get a new quest. It’s even titled a Deal with a Devil. I would rather not be killed and have to come all the way back down here, though making deals with devils usually doesn’t end well in most games. “I’m not opposed to such an idea, but I would like to talk details first. I’m Chess.”
“I am Azamatiel.” She extends her hand as though to shake, but only as far as the circle will let her.
I roll my eyes at this and don’t respond.
“Oh, you’re no fun.”
“You’re right. I’m more business than fun. Now, back to that. What exactly would I do to help you?”
“I just need help with a spell to get me out of here. Here I’m a slave forced to—” Her body shudders, and she starts mumbling in a strange language, her fingers twitching as if they are at a keyboard until her body stills again.” —move this part of the city around for Spellworks’ little game. I’m a slave, even if their spell was inadequate to contain all my powers.” She gestures to the frozen wizards, sorcerers and mages. “I’m bored and want to be free.”
“I don’t like the idea of enslaving anyone. But if I free you, then what? I don’t want to let you go only to have you kill everyone here or destroy part of the city or use your power to rule it. That would reflect badly on me. “
“They did this to me! They deserve to be punished!” Under her skin, power glows, a light inside her. “They thought they were safe, restricting me from killing them. All I can do was suspend them.“
“You have punished them more than you know. If they’ve been here as long as you say, any friends or family they have are gone. They’ll wake up in a time where even the culture is different. I’ve seen the Spellworks. It’s a sad thing hanging by a thread. That is what they will go back too. You ripped them from their homes. There are not many fates worse than that.”
Her eyes narrow, and she tries to put her friendly poor little me smile back on her face. Which didn’t really work because everything else about her screams predator. “Perhaps you are right. Your kind really does care about those things more than is
proper.”
“If I do free you, would you promise not to destroy the city, kill a bunch of people, or do anything too drastic that might make me look bad? I still have to work here and would rather not be known as the sorcerer who caused that kind of mess.”
“Fine,” she harrumphs. “I’ll help you find those trinkets, though there are real items of power here I can direct you to as well. I hate the feeling of owing someone. Makes my scales itch. It is much more pleasant to have someone owe me.”
My Dark Vision is running down, maybe forty minutes left. “We have a deal. I get what I am looking for. Then I help you with the spell to attempt to free you. Though if you’ve been trapped here, how would you know where these things are?”
Before she can answer, she’s lost again doing her task of shifting the mage quarter around. “I can extend my perception. That’s why they have me do this. Though even there they restrict me. Can’t accidentally squish someone with a moving building, can I? Over the years I’ve read every book here, cataloged every item, counted every hair. Simply out of boredom. Now let me tell you where the items you seek are.”
She is good at giving directions. I suppose it helps to know exactly where everything is. The Staff mold is in the wall of crates, and I have to dig it out. Most of the books are in the room with the frozen Spellworks people. Dropped by the most recent addition to her collection from a few years ago, with only one other in the stacks.
“Ok, I have what I need. What do you need me to do for the spell?”
“You’ll need to reach your hands into the circle and grasp mine. Your body will start to feel warm, then hot. Once the heat is flowing, you’ll need to say these words.” She lifts her arms. While I was away gathering my stuff, she had carved words into both of them.
“Ok, but before we do this can you make it so the quarter is mostly normal? I would rather an easier time leaving than I had getting in.”
She twitches her fingers making them dance in the air again. “It’s done. Now let’s do this, I am ready to be free.”
With a little hesitation, I put my hands into her circle. This is a game, after all. Even losing them wouldn’t be permanent. She takes them and lifts her arms, so I can read. Once my body starts feeling warm enough, I say, “Sim Sala Nikto Mechanis Mekka-Lekka…” I continue reading snippets of geekdom I only vaguely recognize. As I say the last word, “Pocus,” there is a flash and then darkness. Azamatiel’s hands are no longer in mine. The Dark Vision notice, which, by the way, still had time on it, is gone. “Well, this is great.”
Even in pitch black, I can still see my game notifications just fine. I’ve just had them minimized. I open them now.
Quest accepted. You have learned Ritualistic Casting. You may share or receive mana from a willing caster. You have learned the spell Grand Dispelling.
I boggle at the mana cost. Azamatiel had provided ten times the mana I had in order to have me cast it. It also explains why my darkvision buff is gone.
Quest completed.
I level up twice from the xp alone. For level 11, my new enchanting spell is elemental effects. I can add a random elemental damage effect or resistance to weapons and armor. I’ve been jealous of Mervlin and Hephesty because they have had that ability for a while.
Of course, now I’m in the dark. Even a simple light spell would be useful. The Officers sword can produce a glowing hot mini-sun, though according to the description, it kind of explodes if you touch anything with it. Going back through the maze of stuff, trying to be careful and carry the mold for the staff that I was unable to fit into my bag will be a pain.
Suddenly a ball of light flickers on nearby. A very angry looking mage stands there, blue goop sliding off his body dollop by dollop. I can see by the light that others are slowly being freed as well. He points at me with his free hand, and a fleck of goop drips from his finger. “Who are you and what have you done!”
Rude. “I’m Chess. I’ve just freed you all. You should be more grateful. Who are you?”
“You freed the demon! Who knows how many will die because of this. You did this. I want you to find her and bring her to heel. Adain, head of the Spellworks commands you.”
I get a new quest notification. This is certainly one I don’t need. I already have to deal with Vale. I don’t need this guy too.
“Former,” I mutter softly before selecting No. “Adain, you’ll have to find someone else to clean up your mess. I may have freed her when I freed you, but I didn’t bring her here in the first place. I’m going to see the current and actual head of the Spellworks. I wouldn’t mind the light, so if you want to join me feel free.”
Adain’s temple is throbbing. I pick up the staff mold, hoping that if he does decide to torch me, it might count as inventory which would mean there is a chance I might get it back when I revive. Having never died, I’ve never actually found out what that is like.
“Fine!” Aiden huffs. Other sources of illumination appear as more casters regain their senses and cast their light spells.
I take my time getting back through the maze. The hole in the wall I dug to get the staff mold saves me from getting lost. Behind me, there is a long trail of sad and soggy spellcasters. Bolle gawks at me and then Adain as we climb up through the basement hatch.
“Can you take me to Vale again? I think I have what he needs. This guy wants to come too. There will be more coming, so any extra hands to manage them might be useful. “
“Sure,” Bolle answers softly and walks us to the lift. His eyes still tracking the slowly emerging stream of people from the basement.
The three of us take the lift. I see Jasper giving me a pleading look as we pass the alchemy lab, a blue potion is being slowly poured over his hand. Eventually, we reach the top. Bolle looks to Roz. “I need you downstairs to manage a situation. I’ll be down shortly.”
She puts down her book. “Can’t you see I’m reading.” Her feminine voice sounds cross. Aiden’s features twist in confusion.
“Now, Roz. We don’t have time for this. You’ll understand when you get there.” Bolle opens the door to the office, letting us in before he runs back to get down to the new problem.
Vale is staring out the windowed wall at the now clearing smoke. “I think they’ve got the fire out,” he says as he turns to face us. He looks from me to the damp-with-blue-goop wizard and back to me again.
“I got the books you were looking for.” I dig them out of my bag and put them onto his desk. I get the Quest Complete notification, but Vale is too busy staring at Adain to respond to me.
“Adain?” Vale asks quietly.
Adain turns to me, “See, someone recognizes me as the head of the Spellworks. Though why people are running around here mimicked like each other I have no Idea.”
At least it is a good thing these NPC are not aware of the length of time they were frozen. I clear my throat, “Aiden this is Vale, the current head of the Spellworks. I am helping him with a little problem.”
Aiden jabs a wet finger in Vale’s direction, “He recognizes me. He sees that I am the head of the Spellworks.”
It is during this exchange that Vale gathers himself. “Former head of the Spellworks, from three hundred years ago. Your portrait is still up with the others, though it had to be repaired after being defaced a few times. I’m a distant nephew, though I don’t advertise that fact. You were removed from the office when you were declared dead. You can petition to be reappointed, but I doubt you’ll find the support you once had still around. “
Adain is struck speechless for several breaths, “Three hundred years!” he blurts out before going quiet again.
Vale looks through the titles of the books. “Good work Chess. I’ve been thinking about the staff. It would be nice if you can make it out of the lightest metal you have. I would like to be able to weld the thing. I’ll leave the other details to you. The incident had more members go missing, and the rescuers as well.”
I wince. “Yeah, I’ll be leaving you with
a bit of a mess to clean up while I work. There are dozens that may be coming up from down there. I’ll bring the staff by tomorrow when I’m done. The quarter should have stopped shifting at least. Adain here can probably give you more details than I can. “
“Oh, I don’t mind the work. Usually, I’m just sitting around exiled in my office reading reports on different enforcement actions. It will be nice to get my hands dirty again.” He eyes the slimy shocked guest. “Even if it will be literal in this case. You Touched really are shaping the world. Do you mind if I continue with Jasper’s help today? We can use all the hands I can get right now?”
“That’s fine. Just thank him properly when you’re done with him.” I leave, and sounds of Vale talking to Adain becomes muffled as the door closes behind me. The lift is waiting, and I step onto it, and it slowly takes me back down. I have to wade through the now burgeoning crowd as Roz and Bolle try to manage it all.
I make my way back. The ground is mostly flat, and the buildings are mostly the right shape. I don’t think Azamatiel was in the mood to make everything perfect. Groups of residents and a few players are outside just looking at everything. I suspect they are waiting for it to shift again.
Back near the entrance, Lady Else is outside, her fuzzy familiar circling her feet. I pick up my pace hoping to get by unnoticed, but she spots me.
“You!” She yells marching in my direction. “You did this! How am I going to get nice young Touched people coming to my doors to help me anymore? I’ll have to sit home alone with no visitors.”
I try to ignore her, but she’s spry and keeps up with me until I finally turn to face her. “Look, Lady Else, we Touched love to help people with their problems. You just need to find a new niche, and maybe advertise. You can see where things are. I’m sure that gift alone can draw many to you who still need to find a specific object or place for one of their many missions.”
“You’ll spread that word around, or so help me I will use my abilities to find you and haunt you as long as I’m living.” A quest notification pops up.
