by Kyle Vauss
I shrugged. “I don’t really care. If you’ve studied my history at all, you’ll know that I don’t bother with quests. There’s something not right about this.”
I looked around, as if I expected to see someone watching me. The thing was, if the Infarna devs were tuned into my game feed, it would be on a monitor somewhere in the real world. For all I knew, a group of them were gathered around a screen. It made me uneasy.
“What did you mean about Gabber?” I asked. “About it not being an accident that we met?”
Bolzar blew out a smoke ring. This one was in the shape of one of Crawford’s neeves. “Not much happens by accident, Tom. Even random encounters in the game world are scripted. Sure, they might not be scripted to happen to a particular person at a particular time. But they were planned to happen to someone.”
“And how does this relate to me and Gabber?”
Bolzar leaned forward. “This quest is important, Tom. To you. It will mean a lot for you to finish it.”
I stood up. I’d had enough of Bolzar and his cryptic riddles. Gabber was waiting outside, and I needed to get back to him. I walked over to a wall and put my hands on it. I felt for a door. After doing a lap of the room, I found nothing.
I knew Bolzar was watching me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that he was grinning. I didn’t turn to face him. Instead, I brought up my map.
It was blank. There was no sign of the Infarna mainland, and no green marker to show my location.
“I can see you’re keen to leave,” he said. “Are you going to Ikiele, by any chance?”
I shook my head. “We’re going north.”
“We better get a move on, then.”
I stood against the wall with my arms folded. “So, what now?”
“Well, you’ve reached level 7. It’s time for another skill. Or it might be, anyway.”
“You mean I might not get one? But everyone learns a new skill at level 7.”
“Sure,” said Bolzar. “Normally. But this is a trial. Nothing can last if it stays the same, Tom. Even a game like Infarna needs a change every so often. To liven it up. Sometimes it works, like the Gold Coast expansion. Other times it tanks, like Ulrip Caverns.”
I moved away from the wall, walked to the table and stared at Bolzar. “No way,” I said. “You can’t do this.”
Bolzar reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. “Terms and conditions, Tom. Terms and conditions.”
I looked closer at the sheet of paper. At the top was the title ‘Infarna Omega Terms & Conditions.’ At the bottom, was my signature. Had Bolzar had this prepared all along?
There was no use arguing. I knew I’d signed it. And I also knew I hadn’t read it.
“So, what do I need to do?” I asked.
Bolzar nodded at the chair. “Take a seat.”
I sat down. My health, stamina and mana bars began to fill as I leaned back against the chair. Despite the warm feeling, I was agitated.
Bolzar looked at me. “This one’s simple,” he said. “I’m going to ask you a question. Give me the right answer, and you’ll get a skill.”
“Fine,” I said.
He coughed. “Okay. Here it goes. Everyone has one, yet no one can lose it. What is it?”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “And now you’re literally asking me riddles. What does this have to do with a customer survey?”
“I just told you, Tom. You’re also helping us trial tweaks to the levelling system.”
“This is ridiculous.”
“Maybe so. But if you want a new skill, you need to think. Now, answer me. Everyone has one, yet no one can lose it. What is it?”
I sighed. “A crippling sense that the universe is conspiring against you?”
He laughed and then shook his head. “Very good. But you’ve had two guesses, and you only get 1 more. Get it wrong, and you leave without a skill.”
“I’ve only guessed once.”
Bolzar shook his head. “Your first answer was ‘And now you’re literally asking me riddles. What does this have to do with a customer survey?’ And your second answer was a joke. Now I’m going to ask you again.”
As soon as I had time, I was going to log onto the Infarna forums and see if anyone else had seen anything like this. It was definitely a new thing, but it made no sense for them to trial it on me. Whatever the reason, I needed to play along so I could get my skill. Missing out on a level 7 ability would be a big blow.
“Everyone has one,” said Bolzar, “Yet no one can lose it. What is it?”
I thought about it. What did he mean? Was it a heart? Everyone had a heart, and you’d be screwed if you lost it, even if that was possible. But that didn’t make sense.
Did he mean a past, then? There was the old saying – ‘you can’t run away from your past.’ That would hit too close to home, though. Everything I did these days was an effort to get away from my past. Surely the Infarna devs didn’t somehow know about Sarah and me? And if they did, I couldn’t believe they’d be cruel enough to use it against me.
No. That couldn’t be it. I was being paranoid; the devs had no idea about my past.
It had to be something else, then.
“Tick tock,” said Bolzar.
I wanted to tell him to shut up, but I didn’t in case he took it as an answer. I mentally listed things that everyone had. I took everyone to mean not just humans, but others. Imps, goblins, trolls. Something everything had, but couldn’t lose.
And then I got it.
“Tick tock,” said Bolzar again.
I leaned forward. “A shadow,” I said.
Bolzar leapt out of his seat. A huge grin broke across his face, and he walked across the table and patted me on the back.
“Well done Tom, well done! That’s two in two, now. Just one more and we’re done.”
“I need to leave now,” I said.
“I don’t mean one more this second. The next time you see me will be level 10, and after that, the trial is finished. You can get on with the game, and I’ll…”
“You’ll what?” I said.
A sad looked flashed across his face, and then disappeared. “Never mind,” he said. “Enjoy your new skill.”
[Skill gained – Shadow Form]
- The shadow walker can harness the darkness and wrap himself in it. He turns into a living shadow that only the keenest of eyes can see. Effects last 1 minute x total mana.
Chapter Twenty-Two
When the room faded and I found myself back in the cavern, I looked around. Was Bolzar telling the truth? Did time really move slower in the white room? It certainly seemed that way, since Gabber had only moved a couple of feet from where I’d left him.
I didn’t have time to dwell on it. The neeve was prowling toward Gabber, mouth open, globs of spit drooping from its teeth. The hair on its back was stood on end, as though it was a physical sign of its intention to attack.
Dagnor reached into his inventory. He pulled out a few sheets of paper and leafed through them. This was no way for a wizard to be. Any mage worth his salt should have his spells at his command. He shouldn’t have had to look through them in the midst of battle like he was trying to find a recipe.
I heard shouting coming from the tunnel across from us. The sound was dim, but it was there.
“Did you hear that?” I asked Dagnor.
He put his papers back in his bag. “I don’t have anything useful,” he said, frustrated. “A few traps, a morale boost. I’m sick of this.”
The neeve rounded on Gabber. The goblin hefted the weight of his bag on his back and held his dagger in his hand.
There was more shouting. Closer this time. There was no doubting that it was Crawford. We needed to finish off the neeve and get out of there.
As the neeve moved forward, I drew my sword and crossed the cavern. I was going to attack it when Gabber held me back. “Let me try and tame it,” he said.
He stood in front of the neeve and whispered words
both foreign and bestial. His pitch changed as he tried to figure out how best to talk to the hunter creature. The strange sounds echoed off the cavern roof. I wondered if Crawford would hear them, and what he would think.
“This isn’t working,” I said.
The neeve’s tail was up. It leaned on its back legs, ready to pounce. As it leapt, I put myself in front of Gabber and held my sword out in a parry position, absorbing most of the neeve’s attack. I pushed Gabber back. The neeve landed on the floor, rounded, and prepared for another strike.
“It’s too strong,” said Gabber. “Hurt it a little, but don’t kill it. I should be able to tame it when it's weakened.”
He was right. Unless you were high level or had charisma-boosting equipment, influence spells needed a vulnerable target.
The neeve leapt again, catching me off balance this time. Its claws scratched down my cheek, and I felt the sting of the fresh wound.
“Trap it,” I told Dagnor.
I’ve always thought that one sound you shouldn't hear in the middle of a battle is the crinkling of paper. Nevertheless, that was what I heard as the would-be-wizard started to read from his trap scroll.
“Incartantum trapius…”
At first his voice was soft, and he read the words in a northern accent. Then it seemed like he had remembered he was meant to be a wizard, and he put on a deep, booming voice.
“Decioso talakus….”
The neeve leapt again. I held my sword up and took the force of the blow along the metal. I sidestepped to gain ground on the neeve and struck it. The neeve cried out as my blade opened a cut on its hide.
“Not too much damage,” said Gabber.
“Veropsoikanto trapso!” finished Dagnor.
The paper in his hands burnt to ashes. A pale blue light gathered in his hands. It formed the shape of a bear trap, then drifted across the cavern as though it was one of Bolzar’s smoke rings. It settled over the neeve and then came crashing down. The hunting creature thrashed, but it couldn’t move.
I brought down my blade on its back. The neeve shrieked, but it didn’t die. Gabber walked up to it.
“Be careful,” I told him. “The trap won’t last forever.”
Gabber began to speak to the neeve, his words changing into beast-like sounds. He crept ever closer to it, his voice becoming softer until finally, he stood by its head.
I heard a voice call to us from outside the tunnel. This time it was so close that I could pick out the words.
“Come on,” said Crawford. “Give up the goblin. I’ve got money coming out of my arse, and I’ll reward you for handing him over.”
The wizard turned his head at this. He stared in the direction of the tunnel.
“It’s Crawford,” I said. “Ignore him.”
Gabber stopped talking. He reached out and put his hand on the neeve’s head and rubbed his fur. The neeve craned his neck and seemed to bask in the affection. As much as I disliked Crawford, I remembered seeing him on the hill. He was stroking his neeves before he ordered them to attack. He obviously had strong feelings for them.
“The trap’s wearing off,” I said. “Let’s go.”
The sound of Crawford’s boots grew closer and we heard his other neeves as they sprinted toward us. We left by the north tunnel, but the chase was far from over.
Chapter Twenty-Three
For the next few hours, we ran through the caverns. Every so often we’d come to places where the path forked. A check of my map was all it took to pick the right way. I made sure to spread my blood on the path we didn’t choose, to confuse the scent for the neeves.
We came across groups of forgotten ones, which we dispatched as quickly as we could. I was still hoarding my mana, making sure I didn’t use my cantrips just yet. As soon as we got to a town, I was going to stock up on mana potions.
For cantrips like Gleaming Lights, it wasn’t a problem. This was a low-mana drain, and its cooldown was short. For my better cantrips like Blade Turn or Minor Illusion, the cooldown was so high that I had to use them sparingly. As my levels advanced I’d earn Blade Turn level 2 and so on, but I had to be careful until then.
Fighting the forgotten ones put my exp within touching distance of level 8. My grinding instincts told me to stick around and try and run into more of the creatures so I could level up. But every so often I’d hear Crawford in the tunnels behind us, and I knew we had to go.
“According to the map,” I said, “We’re near the exit.”
Gabber and Dagnor had matched my pace. Dagnor was upset that his wizard robe dragged along the cavern floor and became dirty. He’d taken to holding it up as he ran, like a bride scared of ruining her wedding dress.
We came to a section near the exit where the cavern opened. To my left there was a waterfall, though I couldn’t see the source.
“We need light,” said Gabber.
“Use a torch,” I said.
“They’re all out.”
“I can’t afford to use mana yet. We might need it later.”
“I can hear something,” said Gabber.
I reluctantly cast Glowing Lights around us to make sure that there were no creatures skulking in the shadows. The awareness bonus I’d gained from the forgotten ones had come in handy, but it wasn’t infallible.
When my lights illuminated the cavern, I saw that blood-red water gushed out of the waterfall. A putrid smell filled the cavern, enough to make me gag. I didn’t want to know what the liquid was, but something told me it wasn’t a flowing spring of healing potion.
I heard something slithering above us. I looked up to see my lights cast over a bulky form crawling across the roof.
“It’s the Sac Mother,” I said.
The Sac Mother dropped down from the cavern roof and landed with a thud. She turned to look at me. The sacs in her throat bulged, and she opened her mouth and screamed at us, sending a waft of sour air toward me.
I pulled out my sword. There was no escaping, this time. We were going to have to fight her.
“Use your trap scroll,” I told Dagnor.
As he reached into his inventory for the scroll, the Sac Mother stepped closer to me. Her throat sacs bulged even more. One by one they started to open, revealing worm-like creatures with sharp heads. She moved her head, and one of the worms shot out at me.
I tried to sidestep, but I wasn’t quick enough. One of the worms hit me and latched onto my arm, and I felt a burning sensation of pain as it tried to bite through my sleeve.
I hit it with my free arm and shook it off. The Sac Mother shot more of them in my direction. I jumped to my left, and two of them flew by me. The other latched onto my neck. I slapped it away, but not quick enough. Barely a second into the fight, and I’d already lost a fifth of my HP.
Gabber commanded his tamed neeve to attack the Sac Mother. Dagnor found his scroll and began to read from it. This time he was so panicked that he forgot to use his wizard voice. Instead, he read from it in his natural, barbarian-sounding tones.
“Concentrate,” I told him. “You can do it.”
The Sac Mother lashed out with her long arms, swiping Dagnor at the legs and sending him to the ground. As she attacked with her limbs, more worms shot from her throat. They latched onto the nearest person they could. One of the sunk its teeth into Gabber’s leg.
I needed to do something. I thought about using Dark Magic to blind the Sac Mother, but it was useless here. Like the forgotten ones, the Sac Mother didn’t have eyes. As a creature of darkness, she didn’t work on sight.
Sac Mother lashed out at me. I tried to step out of reach but her arms were too long, and she caught me at the waist. Her powerful swipe knocked the wind out of me, and she scored a critical hit, draining my HP below halfway.
Panting, I moved out of range. “Hurry up with the trap,” I told Dagnor.
Gabber’s neeve prowled toward the Sac Mother and sunk its teeth into her belly. Sac Mother shrieked and then lashed out at the creature, killing it with one hit.
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She had to have a weakness. Every monster, no matter how big, was programmed with strengths and weaknesses. I just needed to figure out what it was.
Dark Magic wouldn’t work here. Minor illusion would be useless too since it relied on my target being able to see the illusion. So, what, then? There was no point casting Blade Turn, since the Sac Mother’s attacks didn’t involve blades.
