25
An Enchanting Chute
The enchanter's shop was not what I expected. It wasn't a wizard's hat like the mage, nor the sort of fancy shop the rich go to. No, as soon as I saw it, I understood why I had never heard anything about it or stumbled across it.
The enchanter lived in a poop chute.
“I don't really get how this works,” I said, staring at the brown-smeared walls of the stone tunnel and wrinkling my nose against the stench. It probably connected to the sewers I'd first entered when logging into The Everlands.
Sheika snorted and, bending down, tossed a stone into the chute. I leaned in to watch it drop and had to pull back as the stone suddenly ricocheted just by my head.
“The locals call it cursed,” Sheika explained as she stepped up onto the rim of it, heedless of the excrement she stepped in. “And I guess it is, in a way. But not for those who know its secret.” With that, the Ja’qual rogue stepped off the edge and plummeted into the chute.
I glanced at my companions. Farelle wore a bemused expression, while Sarai crossed her arms, seemingly offended. “I will not be going in there,” she declared stiffly.
I laughed. “Oh, come on. You were a priestess to the smelliest race I have ever met.”
She scowled, but didn’t deny it.
“I’ll blame you if this doesn't come off my hooves,” Farelle warned. With that, she hopped after Sheika into the chute.
“Your loss if you don't come,” I said to the priestess as I mounted the rim myself. “Just remember you'll be fighting a dragon with or without enchanted gear.” Leaving her that to mull over, I sucked in a breath of foul air and stepped into the hole.
The fetid air rushed by for a moment as the darkness swallowed me. But the blackness seemed a barrier like the one I'd encountered at Sarai's temple, for almost as soon as I passed through it, a cozy lit chamber burst into view around me. By some unseen magic, my descent began to slow.
I stared around me with a growing smile as my feet settled onto a plushy yellow carpet. The room might be at the end of a sewage dispensary, but it was far from the sewer I’d slain giant rats in. Every surface seemed covered with something soft: carpets layered on top of each other under our feet, animal skins and tapestries hanging from the walls, and even velvet running along the ceiling.
And I could tell our enchanter didn’t have a rat problem, because the place was practically bursting with cats.
I winced as the felines all started meowing at once. Even a single cat meowing would be annoying; a whole pack of them was beyond endurable. I even checked my health meter to make sure I wasn’t losing anything from the agony of it. And the noise went beyond what came out of their mouths, too. Every single one of the cats seemed to have telepathic abilities, and they projected their thoughts to us with abandon.
Who are they? Why does this one smell like goat? Can we eat her?
This one’s mine. I will take a nap at her feet. It will be delightful.
Back! Our territory! Get back, aren’t you listening?
This last thought was directed at Sheika. That seemed the one upside to the pack of cats: they all hated her. I grinned as she hissed back at the smaller felines.
“Guess you won’t be an old cat lady?” I shouted to her.
She made a face back.
“Now, now, ladies and gentlemen! Do be on your best behavior!”
The cats scattered as a heavyset woman clad in thick velvet robes and wearing far too much blue eyeliner came bustling through them. As she passed, she snatched up one or another, each cat submitted to a quick pet before squirming out of her arms. Soon, the room was nearly clear of the furballs, leaving only a fresh carpet of shed hair in their wake.
“My apologies,” the enchanter said as she came before us, waving a fan furiously in front of her face, though the temperature felt fine to me. “They do make an interesting welcoming crew though, don’t they?” Her eyes fell on Sheika. “Ah, and especially when I have such interesting guests! They haven’t warmed up to you this time around, have they?”
Sheika coughed before answering — from all that hissing, I thought with amusement. “No, I’d say they haven’t.”
“Shame. And here I thought you all would get along so well together. But I nearly forgot! My name is Esperalda.” She swept a low bow, her fan extending out. “I’m sure I’ll hear all your names in due course, so come on then — you didn’t come just for the cats! Or did you?” She narrowed her eyes at each of us.
“No?” I hazarded a guess. “But they’re an added bonus?”
She brightened immediately and favored me with a smile. “A bonus indeed! Come along, my dear — I have a feeling you and I shall get along handsomely!” She came forward and looped her arm in mine, then began dragging me down the carpeted hall. Not knowing what else to do, I stumbled along in her grasp.
We passed a number of rooms, most of them filled with cats and the most elaborate cat trees I’d ever seen. I marveled that Sheika and her fellow devs had written algorithms that would, in the end, produce this insanity. But that was The Everlands for you.
Finally, we arrived at her workshop. Though it was covered in soft fabrics like the rest of the place, it at least had some of the things I expected of an enchanter. At its center was a wide stone pedestal with a glowing purple ball floating above it. On the edges of the round room were various implements and tools, from wands to knives to a magnifying glass that cast a burning pinprick of light on the one patch of stone it aimed at. And joining the tapestries on the walls were what I assumed were her creations. A scepter with a huge sapphire on the end that shimmered in and out of existence. A dagger, so black that it was more like an inter-dimensional hole into space than an object. A tiara of pearl that glowed faintly and issued forth the faint sounds of a choir singing.
I pointed the tiara out to the enchanter. “Is that basically your own personal theme music, accompanying you wherever you go?”
Esperalda grinned at me. “Ah, but indeed it is! You have a sharp eye for enchantments, young man. Or should I say sharp ear?”
“Sorry to rush you, Esperalda,” Sheika said, her eyes following a cat who had strayed into the room. The cat’s tail was puffed up behind her, and a low growl issue forth from her as she circled the room. “But we’re looking for enchantments on all the gear we have, and we need it fast.”
“Fast?” The enchanter’s eyes went wide. “But you cannot rush good enchantments, my dear! Just as a cat does not rush a good rub, does she?” The cat had found its way to its owner’s leg and wrapped itself around her with a possessive leer toward our Ja’qual companion.
Sheika narrowed her eyes. “How soon then?”
“Tomorrow at the earliest,” Esperalda answered at once as she knelt toward the cat. The feline darted away before she could be snatched up.
“That’s fine,” I rushed to say. I’d thought of something I had to do in Stalburgh before we left. “But I think we need to discuss—”
“Leave that to me, Marrow,” Sheika cut me off with a glare. “I suppose that will do, so long as it is first thing tomorrow.”
Esperalda donned a lazy smile. “I can allow that.”
“As for payment,” Sheika said with a glance my way, “it will have to be as we’ve arranged before.”
“Loot again?” The enchanter arched an eyebrow. “Are your pockets so empty?”
“Emptied at the other shops,” Sheika said drily. “It is an extravagant expedition, you could say.”
“Not so big of a deal, really,” I interjected. “Just going to kill a dragon.”
Our host’s eyes went round as plates. “My payment is to come from a dragon’s hoard? You must be joking!”
“I'm afraid not,” Sheika said, shooting a glare in my direction. “But rest assured, this is a venture we’ll return from.”
“That’s what the last would-be dragon slayer said.” Esperalda bent down to pick up another wandering cat, then straightened and stroked its fur
with a thoughtful expression on her face. She didn’t seem to mind that the cat constantly tried to wriggle out of her grasp.
I opened my mouth to speak, but Sheika shot me another look, so I sourly held my tongue and waited in silence.
Finally, Esperalda nodded. “The magic I sense around you two is strong indeed. Yes, I suppose you stand a chance against a dragon.” A coy smile played on her lips. “Just so long as it’s not an elder dragon you’re up against.”
I swallowed. “Right.”
“No problems there,” Sheika breezed through. “So then. We’ll take the oath, leave our equipment, and call it good?”
The enchanter grinned. “You have a deal. Now then, raise one hand so I can speak the binding words.”
I uncertainly obeyed her. Considering the binding pact I’d made to start these trials of Absalom’s to begin with, I wasn’t super fond of oaths. But if I wanted magic imbued into my gear, this looked like the only way we’d do it.
Once our whole party raised their hands, Esperalda dropped the cat she’d been holding and took in hand a staff mounted on the wall, a short silver one with a ruby at the end of it. As she held it up, the air pulsed around the red gem, and the tint of the room began to change to a pink hue. A feeling like an invisible hand seized me, and I went stiff and wide-eyed as I stared at the enchanter. I didn’t like this magic at all.
The enchanter began to speak, her voice reverberating so loudly it nearly shook me. “I, Esperalda the Wonderful, agree to enchant the equipment worn by the party here before me in exchange for half of the magic items they claim from the dragon’s hoard they aim to slay.”
My mouth fell open. Half?! We’d be the ones doing all the work! But even without Sheika shooting me yet another look, I knew we had no choice but to accept.
“If you accept these terms,” Esperalda continued, “then say the words ‘I will uphold my oath’ now.”
One by one, the members of our party spoke them. I said them last, some part of me resisting the whole way. But since I was the idiot who got us into this mess, I wasn’t going to be the fool that got us killed before we even started.
As we agreed, the pink light faded from the staff and the invisible binds released me. “Good,” the enchanter said cheerily. “Now if you break your word, you will be instantly killed, likely at a very inconvenient time. I wouldn’t risk it if I were you!” Not waiting for us to respond, the enchanter continued smoothly on. “Now, I trust you’ll just be wanting the standard dragon safety package?”
“Make it the upgraded,” Sheika said with narrowed eyes. “And each of us will choose our own weapon enchantments.”
Esperalda sighed. “Ever the sharp negotiator! Very well, we’ll do it your way. Now please, while you decide what you want for your weapons, can you hand over your armor?”
I hesitated for a moment, then unequipped my items and equipped the ragged clothes I’d begun the game with. Apparently I was alone in lacking a proper change of clothes. Farelle and Sarai had nearly identical clothes on — a perk of being an NPC, I supposed — while Sheika wore a tight-fitting leotard of some sleek material. She raised an eyebrow at me as she caught me looking, and I quickly turned my gaze aside, a blush crawling up my neck.
As we laid our equipment on the counter, I asked, “Is there a, uh, menu for what enchantments I can put on my weapons?”
Sheika slapped her forehead, but Esperalda answered, nonplussed. “Of course, honey. Just let me serve that up to you.”
It took me too long to catch the sarcasm. “Alright… So how am I supposed to know?” I turned to Farelle. “How do you pick?”
She shrugged. “I just know.”
That made me wriggle with discomfort. It had to be a thing with the automatic progression of her character, like I assumed all NPC companions worked. Her parameters set forth what she should prefer so that it was all decided for her. It was just another reminder that no matter what I sometimes thought, my companion and friend was not as sentient as I wanted.
Sheika interrupted my derailing thought train. “Okay, come here. I’ll show you where to find it in your menus.”
Doing another thing I hadn’t known was possible, Sheika showed me how to share my menu display with her so she could point me toward the menu option for the possible enchantments for my sword. Apparently it was a special menu linked to each weapon and was only accessible when in certain places, like a forge or an enchanter’s shop. Even though it seemed pretty obscure to me, she didn’t let an opportunity slip by to make me feel like I should have known about it the whole time.
“Okay, okay,” I finally snapped. “Let me pick my enchantments already.”
With a look that told me she thought I was being unreasonable, she ghosted back to converse with Esperalda — or verbally spar with her, more like.
The list was overwhelmingly long at first glance. Not only were there all the options for bonus elemental damage, but there were options for inflicting a host of conditions, from blindness and bleeding, as well as bonus damage against various groupings of monsters. But as I sifted through them, I found the right option becoming simpler to select. All I had to ask myself was what could either keep me alive longer or kill the dragon Jin’Thal fast enough for her not to kill us.
I filtered it down to three options: one that induced weakness, which would assumedly slow the dragon and deal damage over time; one that added bonus armor penetration, which might be needed even with my ironcore sword if my own dragonscale armor was any testament to it; and one interesting one that caused a condition call “delusion,” in which the enemy would start seeing double or triple of you, disorienting them and making evasion more likely.
As much as I wanted to make the decision myself, I knew I needed a second opinion. “What do you think?” I asked Sheika, interrupting her and Esperalda’s conversation about, of all things, cats.
Sheika glanced briefly at the options I displayed before her. “Dragons have a resistance to weakness. Plus it’s a poison-based debuff, and they also have a resistance to poison. As for the second, your ironcore sword should provide enough armor penetration. I don’t know if they’re resistant to delusion, though. It’s spell-based, but I know they’re not immune to all Mesmer attacks.” She shrugged. “I’d go for that one.”
“It’s what I was going to do anyway,” I said casually, handing over the sword. “I just wanted to see if you’d pick the right one.” I grinned at her look of annoyance.
Soon after, everyone had chosen their weapon buffs. Farelle had gone with a straightforward nature-based damage boost to her attacks, which Sheika assured us should translate no matter what kind of dragon we faced. Sarai’s buff to her staff, a sleek construction of some black metal with a pearl mounted at the end of it, boosted the effectiveness of her White channeling. Privately, Sheika told me there would probably be little the priestess could do against the dragon anyway; she’d have to be around level 60 for her attraction spells to be powerful enough to affect the wyrm. But at least it would help with any other monsters we encountered in the castle.
I sighed. I’d totally forgotten this would likely be a whole dungeon we’d have to clear. But the trial wasn’t going anywhere, so I’d just have to put that new Strategy skill of mine to good use to get through it.
Finally, we left the cat-infested, most comfortable sewer I’d ever been to with a promise of returning the next day. I wondered how we’d get back up, but as soon as our whole party stepped onto the yellow rug stacked on top of all the others, it stiffened beneath our feet and started to rise like an elevator. Even if it was a bit straightforward, I liked to think we were taking a magic carpet ride all the same.
26
Sacrificial Lamb
Holed up at an inn on the outskirts of Stalburgh, well away from the late Duke Rodalt’s castle, I watched the Valyn sun-fliers glinting with moonlight as they patrolled the area and thought about the busy day I’d had. Even with the numerous people I’d killed, the duke included, I couldn�
�t think of any real regrets. Maybe I was better perceiving the hyper-reality of the game, seeing it more for what it was. That would be the healthy way of looking at things. Even if death was real in some sense for NPCs, it wasn’t like they were actually alive. No matter how I might wish some of them were.
The other possibility was scarier. That maybe I was becoming callous to killing. And that maybe if I returned to real life — no, when I returned — I might not think murder was outside the realm of possibility.
I dismissed the dark thoughts with a shudder. That was a step too far. No matter who I became in the game, I’d never descend that far into insanity.
To distract myself, I pulled open the prompts that had been waiting for me since I’d completed the Trial of Glory. Six levels in the span of a day blew my mind. I doubted even Sheika could pull that off.
But as I set to trying to dole out the status and attribute points, I found myself stuck. I’d always placed them by little more than whim, even after I’d learned to strategize during the First Trial. But if I was going up against an elder dragon, I couldn’t afford to do that anymore. And I knew far too little about the great lizards to know what to prioritize.
Not to mention I still had to see if one more gamble would pay off.
I dismissed my stats without assigning any points. I’d been delaying by looking into it in the first place. But if I was going to do what I intended, now was the time. My avatar would thank me if I gave it at least a few hours rest before the big day tomorrow. But first, I had to know if what I wanted to do was even possible.
“Ava,” I said softly to the room. “I know you’re not supposed to come. But if you can manage it…”
Even before I’d stopped speaking, my Specter guide materialized before me. Ava wore her usual white dress, both the hem of it and her pale hair floating around her in a distinctly ghostly manner. She arched an eyebrow at me. “I thought I told you I couldn't help anymore.”
Absalom’s Trials Page 20
