Archemi Online Chronicles Boxset

by James Osiris Baldwin

  While they talked, I went back over my [Terms and Conditions], searching mentally for keywords. Surprise surprise, there was nothing about this particular information - just the usual cavaet emptor-style disclaimer about unspecified ‘risks’.

  “And I can tell you something else. They really wanted soldiers for the beta,” Lucien admitted. “Management, that is. They wanted to know if the, uh, ‘conditioning’ you guys get makes you more resilient. I heard that one of the major A.I developers went nuts in here and had to be banned from his own game.”

  “Jesus.” Baldr shook his head. “We really are guinea pigs then, aren’t we? Can they hear us talking about this?”

  Lucien shook his head. His sharp features were intense now, and he gestured with his hands as he spoke. “Aurora Shard is in Alaska, and Ryuko is running a skeleton crew. So honestly, I don’t know, but I’m willing to bet they can’t. They have recording functionality here, but all the available memory is being used to load people in. Even if they are logging us, there’s not enough people on the ground to review every minute of footage.”

  I still didn’t like Lucien, but he was trying to make up for being a creep by being a useful creep, so I sat my ass back down. “What’s the story about the Dev?”

  “It’s more of a rumor than anything,” Lucien said. “That he was one of the guys who coded OUROS, and he was an early entry into the game.”

  “My brother probably knew him, then,” I remarked.

  “Dead? Alive?” Baldr pressed him anyway.

  “Dead. I don’t know if it was from HEX or not, but given he was in the Shard, I doubt it. For whatever reason, he was one of the first to try to hop over permanently. He made it, but he went nuts.”

  With a repressed shudder, I couldn’t help but wonder if Crazy Dev’s upload had been glitched, like mine. I still wondered if Steve was here, too… or part of Steve.

  “Well, shit.” Baldr shook his head. “Here I was all worried about the Trials, when maybe I should have been worried about waking up in the morning. Speaking of that, though, time for bed. We got a busy day tomorrow digging up magic weeds.”

  “I’m not worried.” Lucien was the first to stand, tense with suppressed discomfort. “We’re player characters, so even if we don’t pass, we’ll respawn in our original spawn points. We won’t be able to ride a dragon, but there’s something to be said for the city.”

  “I won’t lose,” Baldr said.

  “I can’t afford to,” I said. “My original spawn point was several miles over the open ocean.”

  Baldr chuckled. “Guess you’re going for a long swim if you die.”

  “Thanks, Captain Sympathy.” I rolled my eyes.

  Lucien snorted. “Don’t worry. We’re not going to encounter anything over CR 10 in the ruins. The high-level monsters are all turned off. We’re lucky to be trying out for the dragons now, actually - it’ll be harder when they re-enable all the features.”

  “But there’s still only three eggs,” I said, watching him steadily.

  “Indeed.” He smiled thinly. “And six of us.”

  Chapter 30

  “We really have to go by ourselves?” Violetta, the sorceress, asked nervously at the breakfast table.

  “Yes. Alone.” the sullen, dark-haired man replied. His name was Pravoslav, and he had the accent to match his name. “We go into ruins alone.”

  Baldr and I ate in studied silence, both of us preparing in our own ways for the challenge ahead. Lucien wasn’t here yet. Presumably he was logged out, eating real food in his fancy Shard quarters, looking out over a dying world from a tower nearly two miles high. It was almost enough to make me regret not punching him when I had the chance.

  “Ugh. I wish I hadn’t taken Mage now.” Violetta slathered a biscuit in butter, lips pursed. “They nerfed this class. Mage is usually the best for DPS, but this whole thing has been nothing but a grind for mana. I need to travel with a tank. A rich tank.”

  “Why you try to become dragon knight, then?” Pravoslav asked. “Not good class for mages.”

  “I was going to say,” Baldr added wryly. “You got your work cut out for you, squish.”

  “Why do you think?” Violetta jabbed her butter knife vaguely in the direction of the Eyrie. “We’re all here for the same thing. And being a mage does have some advantages. I’m already partly immune to mana toxicity, for one thing, so the Trial should be a breeze, assuming I don’t die in the ruins and lose all of my EXP because we’re not allowed to work together. It’s ridiculous, if you ask me.”

  “Bless your heart.” Baldr chuckled between forkfuls of bacon.

  “We compete for eggs,” Pravoslav grumbled. “Maybe three of us survive, maybe four.”

  “Or maybe we’ll all survive, and the quest is made out to be a bigger deal than it is,” Violetta replied primly. “I mean, we’re some of the first players here, if not the first players. I doubt they’ll actually kill us off.”

  Only one end of the long table held food. The rushes on the floor were clean and untrampled, and there was no fire in the hearth. The room was frosty, and felt and sounded empty. The sound of a chair scraping on the floor or a boot kicking a leg of the table echoed like gunshot.

  “What you going to do?” Pravoslav asked everyone. “Going today? Or training a day, go tomorrow?”

  “I’m out and away as soon as I’ve filled the tank,” Baldr said, and patting his stomach. “Got my Path, got my gear. I want to find my mushrooms and McGuffins and get this shit over with. We get to see the eggs and their mom before they hatch. Want to make a good impression.”

  “Hah. Such confidence.” Pravoslav seemed impressed, rather than irritated. Baldr had that good ol’ boy thing down. “What about you?”

  He was speaking to me. My plan was to go to the library and ask about Skill Tomes and the locations of the herbs, eggs, and mushrooms we had to find in more detail. I wanted to see if I could head off a wild goose-chase through dangerous ruins. “I’ll be staying around here for a bit. Thought I’d head out in the afternoon.”

  “I have to study more,” Violetta sighed. “There’s so much to learn about this game. I’m hoping to master at least two more Words of Power before going out into Cham Garai. It’s an Aesari city, you know - so I reckon there’s some deeper connection between the Skyrdon, the Aesari, and the dragons.”

  “What do you know about them?” I asked, genuinely curious. There was still next to nothing in my Glossary about the Aesari, other than what Rutha had told me.

  “They were an avian-angelic race, I guess you could say,” the sorceress said. “One of the three Elder Races: the Aesari, the Prrupt’meew - the Meewfolk, - and the dragons. The Elder Races are the native sentient species of Archemi.”

  “Humans aren’t native?” I tilted my head. “What about the Lysidians? The elves?”

  She shook her head. “Nope. We’re an introduced species. We came with the first Cataclysm, when the Drachan invaded Archemi. The Elder Races drove off the evil dragons, and the Aesari just sort of took over everything after that.”

  My index updated with that information. Satisfied, I nodded. “You think there’s some link between the Skyrdon and the Aesari?”

  “Well, Captain Arnaud told us that story last night.” The sorceress flushed prettily as she spoke his name. “But he left parts of it out. First, Saint Grigori was a Starborn, but he died somehow. Perma-died, that is.”

  “Not a player character, though,” Baldr grunted around his toast.

  “No. Just a mythological figure. Then there’s the fact that Fort Grigori is built on Cham Garai. Liren has facilities for dragons in the cliffs, but the dragons don’t live there - they live here, leagues away from civilization in the Eyrie. Which doesn’t make sense to me, because Liren is so convenient and is so much closer to the King... well, the Warden and the Council now, I guess.”

  “Yeah, don’t go talking about the royals around here,” Baldr said. “’Round these parts, they’ll pull your finger
nails out for saying nice things about the old king.”

  Violetta shrugged. “My point is that the Skyrdon would be of more use living closer to the biggest city in the land, don’t you think? To defend it?”

  “Depends,” Pravoslav said. “Depends on whether they want to defend city or borders, farmlands or buildings. Dragons flying over a city... they bleed, turn citizens into mutants who slaughter everyone. Who knows?”

  I mulled over what Tymos had said to me. The old man had seemed to know something about his Order, something that upset him, but what? Suddenly, I wasn’t hungry - I was itching to get to work. I pushed my wooden plate away and rose, stretching.

  “Good man. Had the exact same thought.” Baldr did the same thing. “See you guys at the Eyrie, right?”

  Lucien barked a short, bitter laugh.

  Baldr and I walked out together. I stayed quiet until we were out of earshot.

  “I’m hitting the library to get more info on the locations of the herbs,” I said, keeping my voice low. “The quest only gives two specific coordinates: the eggs, and the Red Rashovik. If I learn anything, I’ll PM you.”

  He nodded. “I’m going to do a bit of training myself. Heads up - the Bulwark combat skill is really good if you pair it with Active Defense. If you haven’t taken it already...”

  He was talking about the Knight Path. I shook my head. “Thanks, but I’m not taking Knight.”

  “What?” His eyebrows arched.

  “No. I can’t.” I’d spent a couple of hours pouring through the information available through my HUD, matching combat skills with the Lancer Path progression. The only reason I hadn’t leveled up yet was because I wanted to see if the library had any of the Skill Tomes that the Quartermaster had told me about. “I’m not built to tank. I’m taking Lancer.”

  To my surprise, Baldr frowned. “That’s not how you reach the Dragon Knight Advanced Path.”

  “No, but it might open up another AP,” I replied. “If Violetta can go into this as a Mage, I can go in as a Lancer.”

  “You know as well as I do that she’s going to bite it during the Trial. She’s got a bad attitude.” Baldr stopped dead in the hall, and I stopped short, turning back to face him. “We were given an order by the Commander. Sure, this is a game and all, but by God it’s the only world we have now. We’re joining a military organization that has, for all intents and purposes, been one of the best fighting forces Archemi has ever known. They got their way of doing things, and they have their reasons for why they do it that way.”

  “Well, sure-”

  “The nail that sticks out will be hammered down, is what I’m saying.” Baldr regarded me steadily, his eyes piercing blue in the early morning light. “You know what the Commander wants, and you know what he’s going to say when he hears you’ve taken Lancer instead of the class that you’re meant to take. How the hell is a Lancer going to work inside of a unit? You gonna jump from dragon to dragon?”

  I was beginning to feel prickly now. “I’m sure there’s other Lancers among the Skyrdon. It’s my life. My life, my choice.”

  “Not if you swear the vows and take the Trials it isn’t.” The big man’s brows furrowed. “And this here’s the problem with conscripts. You were drafted and didn’t have a choice then, but you’re here of your own free will, Hector. Because you want something they got and they want something you have. Fall into line, like he said, and don’t fuck this up. He hates your guts already, that’s plain to see. I like you, but if he makes an example of you, there ain’t shit I can do to help.”

  We split up at the door. I didn’t really have anything to say to his lecture - nothing polite, anyway - so I kept my mouth shut and nodded stiffly to him as we went our separate ways. I’d lost some points with Baldr, but I’d had a bellyful of blind loyalty in the military. The Skyrdon claimed to be an ancient fighting force. They could claim anything they liked, but Tymos had implied that they weren’t necessarily what they seemed, and I couldn’t shake his conviction. The only Path worth taking is the one you forge yourself.

  My first stop, the library, was located in one of the old stone towers of the castle at the center of the fort. Fort Grigori had three main sections within the confines of the outer walls: the main courtyard and its two attached buildings, which had a ramp that led to the castle. The castle had a main corridor that ran all the way through it to the back, where the bulk of the units’ soldiers were camped. The library was in the tower that overlooked the encampment.

  The castle was chilly, but the library was warm. Heat washed over me as I let myself in through the black walnut doors. The interior was old, worn, but cozy. The ceiling vaulted high overhead, and a single chandelier hung where the designs met in the center. A stone walkway spiraled up the inside of the tower, and hundreds of books filled the shelves built into the walls. It smelled like old paper and leather.

  There was only one person in here, and he was a Siamese cat. The Meewfolk librarian had silver rings clamped at different lengths along his long, twitching tail. He wore a long linen kilt, like the kind I’d seen in Egyptian pyramid drawings of priests, and no shirt. His fur was cream, except for his points – his nose, ears, feet, hands, and tail were a dark chocolate brown - and his ears were heavily pierced. He was carefully paging through a very old, fragile book on a wooden lectern with one hand, a brush held in the other. When the door closed, his ears twitched, and his head lifted slightly.

  “Ahh. I remember you. The Assspirant from Tungaant.” He didn’t look up, but with senses as keen as a cat’s, he didn’t have to.

  There was no mistaking that voice. This had been the mage who’d accompanied us to Lyrensgrove.

  “Good morning, sir.” I resisted the urge to salute. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

  “You are, but it is of little consequence. The book has waited three hundred years for new glue - it shall wait ten minutesss more.”

  “Hopefully I’m memorable for the right reasons, sir.” I tried not to stare. Meewfolk really did look like giant walking cats. “I came here to research some stuff before the Trial.”

  “’Sssome stufff,” he echoed, dabbing carefully at a yellowed page with the brush. His voice was light and melodic, with an accent that was hard to pin down. Something from Asia, not Europe. “Please define ‘sssome stuff’.”

  I drew myself up. “First, I’d like a map of the region. Second, some books describing the herbs we’re meant to be looking for. I was also going to ask about Skill Tomes, if you have them. How should I address you, sir?”

  “You may call me ‘Jasssper’. No ‘sssir’.” he replied, still looking down at the book. His tail was now curled like a question mark. “And yes, you were memorable for the correct reasons. I do have Skill Tomes here. What are you looking for?”

  “Herbalism. Cooking. Armor and weapon repair. Any healing or self-surgery stuff. Anything to do with the Lancer class,” I replied. I’d been rehearsing my demands all morning.

  Jasper raised an eyebrow, an odd expression on his pointed Siamese-cat muzzle. “I hear you, though I am curiousss. Why are you not out, stretching your sword arm like the othersss?”

  “I don’t want to run off blindly into the dark,” I replied, crossing my arms. “But I don’t know if these books will work. I can barely read.”

  “That is no problem with Skill Tomesss.” Jasper set the brush down in a small pot of clear, thick liquid that smelled more like oil than glue. “Their magic operates regardlesss of your ability to read them. The othersss... hmm. Well, you may try to read them, but you could just as readily put them in your Inventory, ssscan them, and then return the books to the shelves.”

  I wasn’t sure which was stranger: a giant talking cat telling me how magic worked, or Jasper talking about Inventories as if they were a normal part of life. The librarian left his work and drifted to one of the shelves. He unlocked the wooden cover and lifted it.

  “Let me sssee... herbalism, armor repair, the elements of sssmithing, and
recipes for the road?”

  “Great!” I came closer, glancing over at the book he’d been working on. The pages crawled with black writing that left me dizzy. “How much?”

  “Each book is worth one gold guilder to use, but I do not imagine you have that kind of coin,” he replied, taking them to a larger table. “However, I am willing to trade these and one other Skill Tome for a boon. The other Tome contains Jump, one of the mossst useful martial skills for the Lancer path, and a martial legacy of my people.”

  I did have the money – barely – but if I could save my Florins and Guilders for a rainy day in exchange for a quest... “Your people favor Lancer?”

  “The men do.” He inclined his head gracefully. “We live separate lives from our womenfolk.”

  “What do you need?” I walked over to him. Jasper was nearly seven feet tall, when he stood up on his feet. Well… paws.

  “You are going to Cham Garai for your herbsss and fungi,” he said, laying a clawed hand on top of the stack of books. He left them there and walked toward a shelf of parchment scrolls. “In the swamp that surrounds the ruins, there are six plants I require for the creation of inksss. Sunwort, blackweed, green algae, widowberry and crimson lily, plus a rarer plant, ghostbell. You are in luck, as ghostbell is often found alongssside king’s sorrow, which you require for the Trialsss. If you bring me these plants, you may read a Skill Tome for each lot.”

  New Side-Quest: Ink, Glorious Ink

  Jasper the Librarian has need of some special plants to make ink for his work. Cats are notorious for their dislike of water, and the Meewfolk are no exception… so he is willing to pay for you to wade around in the swamp to avoid getting his fur wet.

  Reward: Skill tomes + 10 EXP

  Difficulty: Level 4

  A quest that was a lower level than me didn’t pay much in EXP, but I wasn’t doing it for the experience. The Jump skill alone was worth a lot, as it would allow me to select a different combat ability when I took my first Path level. But even so… “That’s six herbs, and only five Skill Tomes. This will take up some the time for the Trials-”