by Terry Schott
Bramell fixed his gaze on Sebastian. “It does, but only for one name. Sebastian.”
“Is that true, Seb?”
Sebastian ignored her question. “How do you know that?”
Bramell’s smile widened. “I am a trader who understands that information is the most valuable commodity of all.”
“A trader?” Sebastian stroked his beard. “And you tried to meet me in real life…”
“Many times.”
Sebastian’s eyes narrowed. “Joshua Milfield?”
Bramell laughed and bowed deeply. “At your service, Mr. Darndhal.”
“Joshua Milfield? You mean, ‘The Farmer King’?” Shale’s eyes widened.
Bramell made a flourish with one hand. “The one and only.”
“Farmer King?” Ezref asked.
“Slave master, is more like it,” Sebastian growled.
“That’s a bit unfair.”
“You hired thousands of poor children to sit in front of computers for twelve or more hours a day.”
“To play computer games. I paid kids to play computer games.”
Sebastian snorted. “Please. They didn’t get to really play. Each kid had to log in and kill basic creatures in starting zones. They could never leave the start zones. And they had to kill creatures as fast as possible. The slow kids were thrown out to make room for those who were fast.”
Bramell shrugged. “Sounds like common sense, if you ask me.”
“At the end of their long, boring shifts, they turned all the gold and items collected over to a master account controlled by you.”
“One of my office managers.”
“Of course. You’d never be around. Instead, you’d make them work like dogs and then take all the digital currency. Then you would sell the virtual gold to casual players in exchange for real cash. They in turn would use the digital currency to purchase in-game items that they could not otherwise afford.”
“Not everyone can grind all day to earn gold in a game.”
“But they could to buy it with real money. Real cash for digital gold.”
“Oh, please.” Bramell shook his head. “You’re describing every other system of control and commerce throughout history. Serfs worked all their lives to grow food for lords who sat in their castles. Miners lived in the dark, dangerous caverns of mines to extract precious minerals for rich men who never dirtied their hands but reaped the rewards of thousands who did. And the currency they exchanged was no more real or fake than the digital coin.”
Sebastian pursed his lips.
“Those children earned more money working for me than their parents did working in factories.”
He waited for Sebastian to reply, but he didn’t.
“An economy is key to prosperity, Sebastian, even in computerized communities. You built the system; don’t blame me for using it.”
“There is using, and then there is exploiting,” Sebastian said. “The average player could work a forty-hour week gaining treasure and coin in Blades PC and trade the results for money in the real world, but they would not make enough to buy very much. By using poor kids in third world countries, you took basic effort and compounded it to make millions of dollars.”
Bramell laughed. “I never thought I’d get the chance to say this to you.” He raised one hand. “Let me take a moment to savour it.” He licked his lips. “Don’t hate the player, Sebastian. Hate the game.”
Sebastian stared at the dwarf for a long moment. Then he laughed.
***
Sebastian placed the fork and knife on his plate and leaned back in his chair. “That was delicious, Bramell. Thank you.”
“My pleasure, Sebastian, I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
“This was my first time having roast beef since I arrived.”
Bramell chuckled. “Cows exist here, but no one considered eating them. That’s a strange little twist you built into the game.”
“I think the NPCs will get around to making that discovery eventually.”
“It’ll likely be one of ours that takes it back out into the world to share with the rest.”
“One of ours.” Sebastian stroked his beard.
“NPCs.”
“I know whom you were referring to. I don’t think I like the way you and many others are doing the referring, is all.”
Bramell took a bite of potato and chewed. “You consider them to be real.”
“They are real.”
“No. They’re digital.”
“They are as real as every other thing inside this place.”
Bramell’s mouth turned downwards. “I suppose, but the fact remains that us players feel a gamer disconnect from them.”
“Gamer disconnect?” Ezref asked. “What do you mean by that?”
“If I were to draw an elf on a piece of paper,” Bramell said, “and ask you to burn it to ash, would you have any problem doing so?”
“No,” Ezref said.
“How ’bout if I created a convincingly realistic form out of straw and dressed it to look like an elf. Could you hack it to pieces with a sword?”
Ezref laughed. “Sure.”
“And let’s take it one step further. You cast a clone spell.”
“Of who?”
“Doesn’t matter.” He waved a hand towards Sebastian. “Him, you. Whoever. Your group is fleeing from certain death. The boat being used to escape won’t hold the clone and there is a long duration left on the spell. What do you do?”
“With the clone?” Ezref’s eyebrows furrowed. “Leave it on shore while the rest of us get in the boat and escape.”
“But the mobs will tear it to pieces.”
“Who cares?” Ezref laughed. “It’s not real.”
“Sure it is.”
The crafter shook his head. “You know what I mean.”
Bramell’s eyes met Sebastian’s, and he smiled. “Indeed I do.”
Ezref saw the look between the two men. “What am I missing?”
Bramell spread his hands. “Not a thing. I would say you illustrated my earlier point perfectly. You see, Ezref, how you feel about each of my examples is exactly how New Travellers feel about NPCs. About you.”
Ezref paused, his lips pursed tightly.
Sebastian reached out and placed a hand on Ezref’s arm. “Not all of us feel that way.”
Ezref’s frown did not lessen as he nodded.
Chapter 19
“Are you Fen?”
Fen considered the young bard for a moment. Then he looked around to see if anyone else was watching them before turning back to answer. “Might be. Who are you?”
“I’m Jyachin. My master sent me to find you and bring you to our camp outside of town.”
“That’s not happening.”
“He said to tell you it was about a…” the boy frowned. “Corporate merger?”
“Did he now?”
“With something else attached.” The boy scratched his head. “I can’t remember the exact words. They were so strange to pronounce.”
“I bet.” Fen held in a laugh as he watched the boy’s face contort with effort.
The boy’s eyes widened and he broke into a smile. “Stock options! Yep. That’s what he said.”
Fen laughed and stood, retrieving his shield from the back of the chair. “Well done, lad. Take me to your master.”
***
Isaac heard the signal whistle and looked up from the campfire as his apprentice and a young warrior emerged from the woods.
“Wow, you’re an ugly-looking one.” Fen lowered his gear to the ground and sat cross-legged by the fire.
“I was about to say you looked better than last time.” Isaac passed him a mug of ale. “But after that insult, you get no compliment from me.”
“Too late.” Fen winked and clinked his mug against his friend’s before taking a long drink. “Ahh, that’s the stuff. Thanks, mate.”
“No worries.”
“Why are we meeting out here on the road
in the middle of the night?”
“’Cause that town you were sitting in really hates players.”
“Tough not to get that impression, what with all the hanging corpses outside the gates and all.”
“My wife assured me that I’d be tagged and dealt with fairly quick if I were to go in.”
“Your wife?” Fen raised one eyebrow. “Nice.”
“Master Isaac is well-known in town,” Jyachin said. “Before, I mean. Most would easily see the changes in him now.” He let his thoughts trail off as he watched Isaac.
“You okay with that, lad?” Fen asked. “Your master being different from what he was? If not, we can send you on your way with a bit of money and no hard feelings.”
Jyachin frowned. “He is my master.”
“Was. Like you said yourself, that guy is gone. And believe me, he won’t be teaching you anything else.”
“Hey,” Isaac scowled.
Fen laughed. “It’s true. You have a lot of learning yourself to do, man. This avatar has serious skills.” His gaze slid to Jyachin. “What level is he?”
“Forty-two.”
Fen whistled.
“Damn,” Isaac said. “That is pretty impressive.”
“Only if you can use the abilities locked inside of you.”
“I should be able to get the hang of it.”
“I can help,” Jyachin said.
Isaac leaned forward. “Really?”
The apprentice nodded. “You have taught me much. Treated me like your own son. I would be honoured to return some of that kindness.”
“You realize it wasn’t actually him that treated you well, right kid?” Fen took another drink of ale and twitched as Isaac kicked him. “Ow. I’m just saying.”
“Don’t ‘just say’ anything else, please.” Isaac turned back to Jyachin. “If you’re willing, I would appreciate any help that you can give.”
“Then I will accompany you and see to your training.” He smiled. “I never thought I’d be saying those words to my own master.”
“Fen’s right. I might look like your master, but inside,” he tapped his head, “I’m a stranger. You don’t have to do this.”
“I don’t really have anything better to do. I mean, I could adventure.” He smiled. “But something tells me that staying with you will be an adventure on its own.”
Fen laughed. “Count on that for sure, kid.”
“Kid? I’m older than you.”
“Oh, right.” His eyes darted to Isaac. “Here, you are. But where I come from—”
“Don’t further confuse things,” Isaac said. “My apprentice is older than you, so stop calling him boy.”
Fen laughed. “And you’d likely better stop calling Jyachin your apprentice. Especially since he’s the one doing the teaching from now on.”
Jyachin laughed, and Isaac felt his cheeks flush with warmth. “Point taken.”
Isaac refilled their mugs and the three sat quietly watching the fire for a time.
“Where are we going?” Jyachin finally asked.
“Great question.” Isaac said. “Any word on where Sebastian’s gotten to?”
“Nope. We’ll have to travel from town to town until we run into him again. Here’s hoping we get lucky and find him sooner than later.”
“I don’t know.” Isaac shrugged. “I intend to train while we travel. I’d like to have some skill level before we meet up.”
“You’re inside the body of a forty-something-year-old man. Even with zero skills, you should be able to fend off a crafter with a knife.” Fen’s eyes glinted.
“He surprised me last time.”
Fen turned to Jyachin. “What’s the closest town, not counting the one you found me in?”
“There are a couple.” Jyachin was frowning.
“What’s wrong?” Fen asked.
“If it were me and I wanted to find a New Traveller, I’d start where the majority of them are gathering.”
“There’s such a place?” Isaac asked.
Jyachin nodded. “Darwin’s Vale.”
“How far away is it?”
“Couple weeks by foot.”
Isaac nodded. “What do you think, Fen?”
“Make our way toward it and visit everything on the way?” Fen raised his mug in a toasting motion to the apprentice bard. “I think Jyachin is already starting to be useful to this little group of ours.”
Chapter 20
Xander opened his eyes to find his shard imp perched on his chest and watching him.
“Mortals waste so much time sleeping,” Xyclotl whined.
Xander sat up. The shard imp took to the air, his wings making small clacking sounds as they flapped.
“How did you get here?” Xander whispered.
“Huh?”
“I’ve only ever seen you in my dreams. How did you get into my room?”
“You like to talk a lot.”
“No, I—” Xander pursed his lips.
Xyclotl’s teeth flashed. “Come on.”
“Where?”
“You’ll see. Let’s go.”
Xander stood and threw on a pair of pants and his leather boots before joining the shard imp at the door.
Xyclotl smirked. “Wanna put your armour on, too?”
“I figured you’d tell me to if I needed it.”
“That’s a bad assumption, pal.”
“Shh.”
“Right. Sorry,” he whispered.
“Do I need armour?”
“No.”
Xander sighed. “Then let’s go.”
Xander followed quietly as the shard imp made its way down the stairs and through a winding path of long halls, large rooms, and both common and private areas. Each time they reached a door, Xyclotl flew close and unlocked it with a word of magic.
They finally entered the chapel and stopped in front of the blackened stone door that led to the underground chambers. Xander knew this door was not locked. There was no need. It was not a destination most people would enter willingly.
“Get the door,” Xyclotl said.
“Nope.”
“Come on.”
“Uh-uh.”
“I can’t open it.”
“It’s not locked.”
“I know that. I can’t push it open, though.”
“Then I guess we have a problem, ’cause I won’t.”
The shard imp grinned. “I’ll make it worth your while.”
“I thought you were supposed to look out for me.”
“That’s right.”
Xander frowned. “It’s not a good idea to go down there.”
“Not for average people. But you ain’t average, kid.”
“That’s kind of you to say.”
A bark of laughter sounded from the tiny creature, the sound echoing in the large open area. “No need to start throwing insults around, boy. There’s nothing kind about me. If I say something, it’s because it’s the truth.” Xyclotl frowned. “Unless it’s a lie. But I’m not lying right now.”
“I’m going back to bed.”
Xyclotl made a hissing noise and landed on Xander’s shoulder. “You’re going down there and I’m coming with you. It’s not up to you or me. These are orders from the Dark Lady herself.”
Xander felt a lump form in his throat.
“There’s something down there we need to see.”
Xander took a breath and opened his mouth to speak. Xyclotl’s talons dug into his shoulders, which prompted him to remain silent.
“Just take us through the door,” the shard imp said. “I’ll get us to the right place after that.”
***
Xander followed the flitting form past cells and a large torture room, then down a long hallway lined with stained wooden doors. They came to an entrance that took them into a maze filled with so many twists and turns Xander became lost after only a few seconds. The only thing he could be certain of was that each step led them deeper underground.
The
air turned cold, then icy cold, and then back to warm by the time they turned a corner and entered what appeared to be a dead end. Xander continued walking to the far wall and saw a door of glossy, smooth, black stone. The silver symbol of the Dark Lady rested in the door’s centre.
“This is it?” Xander asked.
“Yeah.” Xyclotl waved one hand. “Go ahead and unlock it.”
“I can’t.”
“Not with that attitude, pal.”
“Are all shard imps so mouthy?”
“They try, but I’m certainly better than most.”
“How lucky for me.”
“Hey, thanks. It’s nice to be appreciated for my skill set.” He considered Xander with a slow nod. “There might be hope for you yet, boy. Now get serious for a second and unlock that puppy.”
“How?”
Xyclotl sniffed. “If I knew, I’d open it myself.”
Xander stared at the door for a long moment. Then he shrugged and stepped forward. His hand reached for the doorknob…”
“Wait!” Xyclotl yelled.
Xander touched the knob and a warm tingle spread into his arm. The door began to vibrate, emitting a deep thrumming sound. Then there was a click, and the door swung inwards. Xander let go of the handle and the humming stopped. He stepped back and turned to face the imp. “What is it?”
The shard imp looked at him with mouth open and eyes wide.
“What’s your problem?” Xander asked.
“I was trying to warn you not to touch the handle.”
“Too late.”
“Yeah.” The shard imp landed on the ground and bent over, resting both forearms on his knees and breathing loudly.
“You okay?”
“Give me a second.” He took three more full breaths, then straightened. “Whew! I cannot believe that worked.” He began to laugh. “You should be a pile of ash on the floor right now. That was one of the dumbest things I’ve seen in a long time.”
“What was?” Xander frowned. “Touching the doorknob?”
“Yes.” The imp continued laughing. Finally, he stopped, and his eyes met Xander’s. “Only an idiot would touch the obsidian door with their bare hands.”
“You told me to try and unlock it.”
“What door has ever been unlocked simply by touching it?!” the imp cried.
