Treachery (The Terra Trials Book 1)

by Dan Thomas

  “Don’t trust him,” Chopsticks advised. “He’s going to take what little coin you have.”

  “Indeed. You may not know, but you can bring things in between worlds, though there are some restrictions, and also large customs charges depending on what it is you bring through,” his new friend explained as they stepped back out onto the main street. “Now, you wouldn’t tell if I let you in on a secret, would you?”

  Max eyed up the stranger. He was the definition of rugged with a short but wild beard covering much of his scarred face, his strong build clad in exotic armor, trinkets hanging from his belt and bag. “Of course not, I wouldn’t break a friend’s trust like that.”

  The stranger flashed Max a grin. “Exactly. Now, in certain Hubs, there is a sort of black market where you can buy off-world items on the cheap...if you know where to look.”

  “And let me guess, you know where to look.” Max followed his new acquaintance along the road. What did he have to lose?

  “Yes, I know where to look. We can get you kitted out, so you’ll at least have a chance of making it out of here alive.” The player grinned and pointed into the distance, way beyond the compound of the Hub. “There’s a pack of Unenlagia that patrol the plain outside of this Hub, finding an easy living eating unsuspecting players who come and go. Imagine a mix between an ostrich and a raptor, terrifying stuff. You’re going to need some good armor, and a half-decent weapon if you want to make it out the first time.”

  “Cerribue,” Sam called out. “You’re in Cerribue.”

  “Are you sure?” Chopsticks asked, their conversation coming across Max’s earpiece.

  “Yes, Jag and I visited there earlier this year. Your new friend is right about the Unenlagia. Those bastards are going to eat you alive.” He could actually hear her footsteps and the sound of the door opening and closing over the mic as she left the room to go tell Pez where to find Max before the mic cut off.

  Chopsticks then cut in, “Dude, he’s talking about smuggling. If you get caught or reported for it, you’ll easily lose the account, then we’re back to square one. Besides, why is he sharing this with you, some random noob? You’re going to get boned.”

  With a mental command, Max muted his voice in-game before replying, “I know, but this could give me an edge here, and I won’t actually be doing any smuggling, only buying.”

  “Hmm. Just be careful, man.”

  Max returned his attention to the game. “You know a lot about the world.” Small talk with strangers wasn’t his thing.

  “I’ve been playing Terra Verse for years. I spent a lot of time in Mythia. Dungeons and Dragons, Might and Magic, those games were my thing when I was a kid. Mythia just brought it all to life.” The guy had a small smile on his face as he turned down a side street. “The name’s Oswald, by the way.”

  “I’m, uh, Murf…” He then turned to look at Oswald. “So, you found Primeva and realized dinosaurs are way cooler?” Max asked, following closely behind.

  Oswald laughed. “No, I prefer my reptiles to have wings. I’m here on business.”

  “So why are you here?” Max asked, now genuinely interested.

  “The tournament.” Oswald paused outside a building that looked like a tavern, especially with the reek of rough alcohol filling the air. “Of course, you’re new here. Murf, you probably don’t keep up with the word on the street, as it were.”

  Max wasn’t a noob, but neither did he keep up with the insider talk and conspiracies about where the game was headed. While it was one of Chopsticks’ favorite pastimes, Max was more interested in looking at base and farming tactics. “What did I miss?”

  “There’s something big coming.” Oswald’s eyes darted from side to side as if he were checking to see if anyone was listening while they stood in the deep doorway of the stone building. Max frowned, there was no one around, this guy might not be a good guy after all. There must be some alternative motive for offloading all this information on some random player.

  “He’s got shifty eyes, I told you not to trust him,” Chopsticks spoke in Max’s ear, which made him jump, both in and out of the game.

  “Hey, it’s okay, my friend.” Oswald slapped him on the shoulder, hard. “No one in Cerribue is going to bother you while you’re with me.”

  “So, what were you looking for?” Max asked, silently cursing Chopsticks.

  “You’re bound to make friends in this world, but you’re more likely to make enemies,” Oswald admitted, a gleam in his eye as he put his hand on the rickety tavern door. “Follow my lead.”

  “Wait, what is happening?” Max asked, but Oswald had already pushed the door of the tavern open and stepped inside, ending their conversation, leaving Max with questions burning in his head.

  Chapter Eight

  Oswald sauntered across to the bar, which was unlike any Hub pub Max had ever visited. Most bars in Terra Verse were run by a franchise, they all had the same counters, with the same colorful signs and the same world-themed food, taking advantage of the sensory immersion to sell wacky dishes, and then advertise businesses and services. Just like any fast-food restaurant in the real world, really. The second benefit of dining in-game is that you could experience the sensation of being drunk without doing any damage to your actual body.

  This bar was different. Every surface was carved from exotic wood, if Max wasn’t mistaken, it was from a Snakewood Tree, a wood prized for its beautiful grain, as well as hardy nature and rarity. The chairs and tables were also unique, like snowflakes, each piece of furniture was different and clearly had been crafted by hand, by someone with a lot of skill and creativity. The place wasn’t busy, but it was certainly lively, many people laughing and chatting either along the bar or at the tables.

  “What is this place?” Max whispered, realizing he should get out more. He’d been in this world for years but hadn’t been further than the equivalent of his own back yard for just as long. His days of exploring and seeing new things had been replaced by the need to mine and grind to cover the living expenses his job didn’t.

  “Indigo!” Oswald greeted the raven-haired woman behind the bar like an old friend, clasping her arm that she reached over the bar.

  “Oswald. Long time. I didn’t think you liked the boring world of Primeva, especially this backwater place.” The woman flashed a smile. She was stunning. And as unique as the furniture in the bar. A vine tattoo ran from the tips of her fingers on her right hand, up along her arm, over her right shoulder, and up her neck. The long-curved tendrils erupted in bluey purple blooms across her right cheek. Max guessed her name was connected to those blooms.

  He leaned on the bar to take a closer look. The vines were similar to the Strangler Vines. But they were rare to see in full flower and not as blue.

  “It’s true. I prefer castles and kingdoms. I like to add a little magic into the mix.” He patted his pocket. “But sometimes it’s good to get out and see the other worlds.”

  “Who is your friend?” Indigo inclined her head toward Max.

  “Stop drooling.” Sam had come back into the room and verbally slapped Max across the back of the head.

  Max scoffed and went to retort before realizing he hadn’t muted his voice in-game and ended up coughing awkwardly.

  Oswald glanced sideways at Max and then purposely put his hard-soled boot on Max’s and ground it into the floor. “Drink?” Oswald opened his eyes wide and ground his foot harder into Max’s.

  Max clamped his mouth shut and nodded mutely as he wound his neck back. Play it cool, he reminded himself. He’d gotten lucky. Meeting Oswald might help him get out of here and back to the rest of the crew without dying several times over.

  That, or he was about to be recruited into some crazy underground operation.

  Max gulped, realizing why he was probably there.

  “Sorry, tripped. Still trying to get a hang of this body.” Max pushed himself upright and grinned disarmingly.

  “I’m doing Murf here a favor,” Oswald
told Indigo. “He just died, lost some levels, and is never going to make it past the Unenlagia unless he has a weapon and the weapons master out there has nothing in his price range.”

  “Murf?” Sam’s voice hissed in his ear. “You called your smurf account Murf?”

  “And let me guess, you want me to equip him with weapons and armor out of the goodness of my own heart.” Indigo smiled coyly before her face hardened. “We trade and I’ll see what I can do.”

  Oswald winked at the tattooed woman. “Wait until you see what I have for you.”

  Indigo tilted her head to one side. “What I want to know is why you’ve come to me? Others in Mythia have items to trade more to your liking.”

  “They have, I agree, but my Crew plans on entering the event, that may or may not be coming up, and we might need a few things ‘out of that world.”” Oswald grinned at his corny joke, Max hiding a smirk. “As well as that certain something.”

  Indigo raised an eyebrow. “So it is happening? Okay.” She then slammed her hand down on the bar. “You’re in charge, Wraith.”

  A slender young man dressed in black, his dark hair combed down over his eyes, drifted over to the bar from where he had been quietly talking with one of the other patrons. Without a word, he vaulted over the solid wood and landed with his knees slightly bent, all without cracking his dour expression.

  “Goths,” Indigo muttered and beckoned Oswald to follow with a long, purply blue nail. Max tagged along although he hadn’t been directly invited. He assumed if Indigo didn’t want him to follow, she’d have told him to stay put. They walked around the long bar, Indigo taking out a key and unlocking a heavy door.

  Max took a deep breath, unsure about what he’d managed to get himself into. At least the worst thing that could happen is him dying and losing a few more measly levels. Or being caught with smugglers and having his account deleted. Max really didn’t want to go to the lengths he had to get the second account again.

  “I wondered if you might have caved and sold out.” Oswald struck up a conversation with Indigo as she led them along a dark corridor with four closed doors leading off it. When they got to the end, she opened another door leading out into a small, dust-covered yard, hemmed by the bare stone walls of other buildings.

  “Yeah, they keep offering and I keep turning them down.” She sighed as she reached for another key on her belt. “It’s only a matter of time until they get their own way, though.”

  “Who gets their own way?” Max asked, feeling every bit the green player they thought he was.

  “The corporations who own most of the other taverns and amenities in-game are slowly buying up the remaining independents,” Oswald told him.

  “They’re trying to get their hands on the ones in Cerribue. It’s one of the few places still controlled by independents.” Indigo unlocked the stout wooden door of what looked like an old timber barn. At least on the outside. But as soon as the wooden door was open, it revealed a solid metal vault. “They want to try to set up something new out here in the wilderness. I’ve heard they’ve sponsored Crews to start building bases around here as well.”

  “Wow.” Chopsticks sounded like he was practically salivating as Max watched the matte black door of the vault swing open.

  “What they don’t realize is that Cerribue is only busy because of the traders that come here from all the different worlds, this Hub has one of the lower customs charges, probably because it’s so difficult to access across the different worlds...along with a few other benefits, eh?” Oswald glanced at Indigo, who ignored his comment.

  Max’s new friend had been in this vault before, that much was obvious from his cool detachment as they walked down the steps into the treasure trove, past valuable items from other worlds stacked on shelves and benches around the walls.

  “I run the Hub of all Hubs,” Indigo bragged as they crossed the threshold, stepping into a small chamber with a rectangle-shaped table, four chairs surrounding it. Max had no idea what material it was made of, but it certainly wasn’t from this prehistoric land with the glass-like appearance and a slight glow.

  “Sit. Show me.” Indigo gestured to the chairs. Oswald pulled one out and sat down. Max mirrored his move, aware of what must have been laser cannons mounted in two of the four corners of the chamber.

  “This is awesome.” Max kind of wished he could see Chopsticks’ face but instead, he focused on what Oswald was pulling out of his pocket. But as he placed it on the table, Oswald turned his body to shield the object from Max.

  “Sorry, kid, some things are private.” Oswald flashed an apologetic glance over his shoulder, that warned Max if he moved, he would likely be incinerated and never leave Cerribue alive.

  “Told ya not to trust him,” Chopsticks said triumphantly.

  “Don’t be stupid,” Sam told him. “We wouldn’t tell our secrets to complete strangers, would we?”

  “That would imply we have secrets worth knowing,” Chopsticks retorted. “Besides, that’s ridiculous, he’s already invited Max into a secret bunker, introduced him to his associates. This is definitely a cult.”

  Max stood up and turned his back on Oswald and Indigo. He couldn’t stop himself from eavesdropping, but he wasn’t going to spy on them. He was grateful Oswald was willing to help him at all. He was also grateful he knew this place existed.

  He was just hoping that he wouldn’t be made to regret any of this.

  “Maybe they have something here we could use to take down the Ravagers.” Chopsticks must have read his thoughts.

  “Like a rocket launcher or something,” Sam joined the conversation. “Also, did you hear that about sponsored Crews?”

  “Yeah,” Chopsticks said. “I’ve read some forum posts about some random Crews suddenly becoming stronger. I thought it was just some salty players, but it would explain where the Ravagers got their new gear and dino from.”

  Max tuned his friends out as he focused on the conversation in Indigo’s bunker.

  “So, what’s the trade?” Indigo asked after a brief silence. Max presumed she’d been examining whatever it was Oswald had brought from the magic world.

  “You know full well why I’m here,” Oswald said lightly.

  Indigo laughed. “You’re still after that old thing.”

  “It was mine. You know it. I know it.” His armor creaked as he moved, his voice low. “I accepted you took it as an honest trade, and now I want it back.”

  A chair scuffed the floor. Indigo was on her feet, pacing up and down. Max’s heart hammered in his chest. If this went south, he didn’t want to get caught in the crossfire. He ambled toward the entrance to the bunker, attempting nonchalance and failing.

  “Don’t go thinking you can bail,” Indigo snapped loudly.

  Max slid his feet together and stared longingly at the doorway. “Got it.”

  “Good.” Indigo walked away, her footsteps echoing faintly as she entered a door on the other side of the room and entered the belly of the bunker.

  “Don’t mind her,” Oswald told Max. “Her bark is worse than her bite.” He chuckled. “Literally.”

  Max didn’t know what Oswald meant and decided a low-level character like Murf didn’t need to know. Not if he wanted to get anything out of this. “She’s a Collector, isn’t she?”

  Oswald looked Max up and down. “You’re not as clueless as you look, Murf. She’s more of a specialist trader. Indigo does not need half the stuff she has here other than it gives her power and wealth.” He dropped his voice. “Rumor is she’s a millionaire a couple of times over in the real world.”

  “Millionaire?” Max looked over his shoulder. “From trading in Terra Verse?”

  “Sure. Trade between the worlds is a specialist job. If you don’t keep a lot of the stuff correctly, it’s worthless, not to mention the high price of transporting most items across worlds. Most things from one world aren’t any good in another. Metals corrode in the wrong climate, machines chew through fuel if it’s too
hot, or too cold, you get the idea. Although some items are extremely worthwhile on other worlds. Indigo has learned when to trade and when to walk away.” Oswald grinned and ran his hand over the now empty table. He trusted Indigo enough to allow whatever it was he’d brought in here out of his sight. “It’s a little like battles, you have to choose them carefully and not be afraid to retreat when it’s not worth it. I just don’t have the patience for this when it doesn’t end in a good scrap.”

  The sound of Indigo returning caught Oswald’s attention and Max watched as the tattooed woman walked back into the room, a leather pouch in hand. “Here. This is what you want.”

  “It’s a good trade,” Oswald held up his hands. “What I gave you is worth far more than this thing.”

  She placed the pouch on the table. “Sometimes sentimental value outweighs its price on the market. And this is one of those times.” Her eyes leveled with Oswald’s for a moment.

  Oswald’s face remained still for a second before he let out a short laugh and reached out for the pouch. “Thanks for keeping this safe.” He slid it into a pocket on his chest. “And in return, if I come across anything unique worth trading during the tournament, Cerribue will be the first Hub I visit.”

  “Thanks.” Indigo approached Max. “So, what does your little friend need?”

  “Whatever you can spare.” Oswald joined Indigo. “He’s new.”

  “A new Trackless?” Indigo’s eyes narrowed as she assessed Max. That must have been the name of Oswald’s Crew.

  Oswald laughed. “No, just new.” He met Indigo’s suspicious gaze. “What? I can’t be a good Samaritan when I feel like it? I’m convinced they’ll call me a saint one day.”

  “So, first time in the Terra Verse?” Indigo turned her basilisk gaze back to Max.

  “Yep.” Indigo continued to stare at Max, which he found more than a little unnerving. “I mean I’ve been in-game for a few hours. But I lost everything when I got eaten by a raptor.” He shuddered. “Big sharp teeth, I don’t recommend it.”

  Indigo released him from her stare. “Come on, I have some stuff out back. You are welcome to look through them and take what you need. It’s all discards, but it’s better than what you have. If Oswald made a better trade, maybe you’d walk away with better equipment.”