Absalom’s Fate

by J. D. L. Rosell

  It took a nerve-wracking hour to find the nest. When we did, we had to drive away two harpies that remained guarding it. It was well worth the effort. The nest was about the size of a suburban house pool, and it was lined with loot.

  “Quickly,” Farelle advised. “Those harpies could be back any minute. I’m assuming you got torn up enough today?”

  I answered by getting to work. A lot of the items were junk — rusted helms, broken daggers, and the like. But once Farelle and I negotiated our shares, I got 56 coins — which was about 56 more than I’d had before — plus a few choice items:

  Mithril Sword of Thirst

  Quality: Fine (47/50)

  Rarity: Uncommon

  Attributes: ? (You must identify this item to learn its magic attributes)

  Leather Boots of Grip

  Quality: Fine (41/50)

  Rarity: Uncommon

  Attributes: ? (You must identify this item to learn its magic attributes)

  Iron Chainmail Hood

  Quality: Fair (20/25)

  Rarity: Common

  I immediately equipped the Mithril Sword of Thirst. Though I didn’t know what its magical properties were yet, it certainly had to be better than my old iron sword. The Leather Boots of Grip, I donned as well, figuring their ability would probably come in handy in mountainous terrain. If I ever needed my felt boots, I could always equip them again. The chainmail hood I left in my inventory. It'd be too heavy to comfortably wear, and too noisy to sneak in. I'd sell it when I had the chance.

  Farelle had gotten a new Yew Short Bow of Fire, which I'd been less than interested in, and a Belt of Speed. It was painful to let her have that one; the days would be more grueling than ever going forward.

  With the specter of the harpies’ return on our minds, we made our way down the mountain and onward through the pass. Though my mind kept flitting back to my stuck situation, I found I was quickly becoming used to it. The Everlands had a way of drawing you in, of making you let go of the concerns of the real world, and I let myself be lulled into complacency.

  The next few days passed relatively peacefully. We forewent my combat training, afraid our efforts might be heard by the many nefarious occupants of the Black Craigs. Instead, we sat around the fire and talked. I found it easier and easier to open up to her. Sure, she might be generated by software and only alive on a server, but she seemed as real and nuanced as any person, and she was twice as interesting as anyone back home.

  “What of your past?” she asked once. “I've talked about mine. Where do you come from?”

  She actually hadn't talked about hers much, not beyond tales of her adventures. I still didn't know why she was who she was, or where she called home. Still, I obliged. “I'm from a long, long ways from here.”

  “That cat-woman… she's from there as well.”

  “Right.” I knew she was an actual person on Earth, sure. But that wasn't saying much. It made me wonder again who was behind that feline mask.

  *Where is this place? Across the southern seas?”

  I laughed. “Not exactly.”

  Farelle’s brow crinkled. “But you can't have come from the sky, or the ground. And the east is claimed by the Drakons, while the west ends in an endless chasm. The north is too frozen a land to consider. If not from the south, then where?”

  This seemed like dangerous territory. I would think the game had measures to prevent AI-characters from getting too confused by players and their pasts, like the androids in Westworld. Besides, she was my companion. She deserved an explanation of one sort or another. “From another dimension,” I finally said.

  She eyed me skeptically. “Another dimension. Really.”

  “Really,” I said. “But don't worry, you're not missing out. There's none of… this here.”

  “This?”

  “Monsters. Adventures. Wonder. It's pretty much a grind for most, and a delusion for a few.”

  It bummed me out thinking about Earth and how I couldn’t go back, so I pulled myself back to the Everlands. At least I could always have one helluva time here. “Okay, no wiggling out of it this time. Your turn.”

  “Mine? I've already—”

  “Oh no you haven't. Telling stories isn't the same as spilling your past. I want to know, say, who your parents were, where your childhood home is, stuff like that.”

  The Satyr stared at me for a long moment, then took a swig from her flask. I wondered briefly where she kept that steady supply of alcohol.

  “I don't talk about my home because I left it behind,” she finally said. “It, and all my family with it. I rejected their ways, and they exiled me for it. At the time, I just laughed and scorned them. But now…” She shook her head and took another drink.

  “You don't have to talk about it,” I said softly. I thought about reaching out to her, and holding her hand. I wondered how soft the fur on the back of her hand felt.

  She shook her head again, and blinked rapidly. “I will tell you, but not now,” she said. Then she looked up and smiled at me. “I think I'm beginning to trust you. Against my better judgment,” she added with a laugh.

  “You're telling me,” I said. But I was pleased to hear it, and also to see a notification had popped up:

  New quest: The Wilder’s Past! (Lvl 8) - Learn the truth behind why Farelle left her home.

  Reward: 3000 XP. Dramatic change in relationship with Farelle.

  Dramatic change in relationship — that sounded like the change could go either way. It sounded risky, but what here wasn't? I knew I’d pursue it as soon as I could.

  We settled down into our cloaks soon after. As I lay in the dark and looked up at the stars, I heard rustling from her, then felt her warm body next to me. I smiled, but a bit of sadness crept up in me too. The only other person I’d been close to like this was Karen, my recent ex-girlfriend. I didn’t know why, but there was something bittersweet about being with another person like this.

  Still, I didn’t shift, but lay quietly until I finally fell asleep. As I soaked in Farelle’s warmth, my head slowly started to clear, and worries were replaced with pleasant dreams.

  18

  The Barrow

  A couple days later — I tried not to imagine how long that was in Earth time — we reached the end of the Black Craigs. Standing at the last cliff before our descent, I looked over the lands below. It was a clear day, so I could see for miles and miles, and I thought I saw the other mountain range in the distance, the White Tors. J’anteau was supposed to be nestled into the base of them. I asked Farelle to check, and she confirmed it: we were only a few days further from my task’s end. I got jitters of excitement for a moment before I got ahold of myself. Though I was excited to see where this quest would lead, it went beyond that. As much as it didn’t look it, this was my way home.

  The land in between the mountains — called the Mired Copses — was hilly and patched with spots of forest, like a bald head that had received a hair implant. In between the large groves were swathes of open marshland. Altogether, it looked like a bitch to cross.

  Wishing we could fly, I peered up into the sky. There never seemed to be a clear day here in the Everlands — always some clouds impinged on the view. But today was clearer than most, and as I squinted into the clouds, I thought I detected harder lines within. Unless I was recalling wrong, the Valyn were supposed to live in the sky. Perhaps they were on floating islands?

  “We won't cross that swamp waiting here. Come on.” Farelle nodded to the way down. After a lingering look at the island-shaped cloud, I followed after her.

  We left the Craigs behind and descended into the mess below. I soon found it was even worse than I'd anticipated. Whereas the mountains were full of the crispest, freshest air you could hope to find, the mires between the small forests could choke you with their stench. The air hung thick and murky, a yellow haze making it hard to see more than a few hundred feet in front of you. And the heat — it seemed to rise up from the ground itself, grasping at you
and weighing you down worse than any monster. Humidity clung to us like the whole swamp was raining sweat.

  As we clumped through the wet ground, so slick that even my Leather Boots of Grip had trouble finding purchases, Farelle cheerily told me about all the creatures that occupied the region. “First, there’s bog sprites,” she said. Despite her easy-going manner, I saw the way her eyes cast about constantly, searching for danger.

  “Like those?” I pointed to the far end of the muddy pool we were walking around, where three figures were hunched over. Their eyes caught the light and reflected back at us, three sets of half-moons watching and waiting.

  “Exactly like those,” she said approvingly. “Keep that up and we may make a Wilder of you yet. Don’t worry about those though — sprites won’t bother you if you don’t bother them. Most of the time.”

  I kept both eyes on them until we were well past, just in case.

  “Tell me the rest,” I said wearily. Not only was it good to expand my bestiary — another handy overlay — but it was reassuring to hear her talk, even of such a dismal subject.

  “Well, there are swamp trolls—”

  I shuddered. “No more trolls.”

  “—And toadstool fairies—”

  “Fairies, really?”

  “Really. But not the wish-granting kind. These will bite your ears off. Then there are mire mummies—”

  I stopped. “Mummies are buried in sarcophagi.”

  Farelle paused as well, eyeing me warily. “And…?”

  “Sarcophagi are put in tombs.”

  “Yes…?”

  “Anyone worth putting in a sarcophagus or tomb has riches.”

  Farelle just shook her head. “After what we went through in the Craigs, you’re still looking for trouble?”

  “For adventure, my good navigator.” I patted her on the shoulder and walked past her. “Come on. I’ve got to get my Lara Croft on.”

  “Who?”

  “Indiana Jones?”

  “What are you saying?”

  I just laughed and kept trudging.

  We found a tomb just before nightfall.

  Ascending one of the forest hills from the marshes, we traveled through the woods searching for a place to settle down for the night that wasn’t so wet that our cloaks would be soaked in the morning. Before we’d found a suitable location though, the trees opened up to reveal what looked to be a tiny pyramid. Excited despite its diminutive size, I coaxed Farelle over to take a closer look. “You get 42 shares of the loot, remember?” I reminded her.

  “45,” she corrected. “But I should get more.”

  I took her by the arm and pulled her over, ignoring her protests. Immediately, my excitement grew, as I could see at the corners of the structure, the ground was pulling away, like there was more underneath. “It goes all the way down,” I said, pointing. “This is just the tip of the iceberg.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Your enthusiasm isn’t catching, you know.” But I could tell I was wearing her down.

  The ten-foot-tall doors to the crypt, however, didn’t budge when I pulled on them. Stepping back and studying them, I couldn’t detect any way other way to open them.

  “Try the handle?” Farelle suggested unhelpfully.

  “Har, har.” I circled the pyramid once, feeling along the black stone, but I couldn’t detect any creases that would signal a hidden entrance. Winding around to the front again, I used Detect Traps on the off-chance it would help, but to no avail.

  “Well, you tried.” Farelle was peering at the darkening woods around us. “And cost us a dry spot tonight. Best find something if you want to be able to keep up tomorrow. This belt isn’t doing you any favors.” She shook her new Belt of Speed with a grin.

  But I couldn’t look away from the doors. “Just a few minutes more,” I mumbled as I studied the images carved on their fronts. It was hard to tell, but I thought they depicted some war between two peoples. Peering closer, I saw one group was depicted with light skin, and the other with dark. “Who built this?” I asked, turning back to Farelle.

  She shrugged. “The Devalyn I suppose.”

  “Autumn elves? I thought they were supposed to be some kind of fallen people.” I looked back over the austere pyramid. “This looks more fit for the nobles of a great kingdom.”

  “A great empire, actually,” the Satyr corrected. “True, autumn elves don’t have any significant states of their own these days. But once, they were the conquerors of all these lands, and their rulers were the most powerful in the world. Many of the great wonders that the Gnarish can’t take credit for are due to the old Devalyn empire.”

  I traced one of the dark faces. “Autumn elves don't all have dark skin. Why show themselves that way?”

  “Because the sky elves are always shown as white.” Farelle shrugged. “At least from what I've seen. Never actually seen the Valyn, so I can't say whether they are or not.”

  “Hm.” I studied it closer, and noticed something else. “It looks like our rulers from the sky have also claimed the sun. And there's the moon for their cousins.”

  Farelle nodded. “They've each claimed those, yes. Now, if we're done with our history lesson…”

  I waved her away. “You go on if you want. I'm going to stay here awhile longer.”

  The Wilder sighed, but she just sat down where she was and stared up at the sky. The stars were starting to come out, and soon the moon would rise. I stood with my chin in my hand, studying it. What was the key to opening the door?

  I stood there for a long time. Thirty minutes, an hour, two — who could say how long I studied it. But nothing came to me. I flopped down in front of it, throwing up my hands. “Fickle gods!” I exclaimed.

  “You don't even know,” Farelle informed me.

  Just then, the first beams from the rising moon struck over the treetops. As they did, the two great doors to the pyramid began to glow like molten silver. Startled and thrilled, I jumped to my feet, my hands itching to try the door. Looking back at Farelle, who had nodded off to sleep, I saw her on her feet — hooves, that is — and as ready as I was. “Fickle gods,” she muttered.

  I took a deep breath. “Here it goes.” I put my hand on the handle, and didn't die, so that was a good start. Bracing myself, I heaved. The doors swung open with a huge grinding noise, hardly requiring any effort from me.

  I looked back at Farelle with a wink. “Ready for your payday?”

  She shook her head. “You and your funny phrases. Let's just go, shall we?”

  I nodded, drew my sword and dagger, and entered the crypt.

  The top layer was little more than the size of an ordinary living room, though it was definitely more interesting, sporting mysteriously burning silver torches and columns of a black stone glittering with amber crystals. Straight ahead, a stairway led down further into the pyramid. After scanning the area with Detect Traps, I nodded the all clear to Farelle and moved quietly forward.

  The stairs curved down in a seemingly never-ending spiral. Off-shooting these stairs were doors, branches no doubt where the tombs were held. I shared a glance with Farelle, and she gave a shrug, as if to say, “It's what we're here for, right?”

  I took the first of these doors and, carefully scanning the room, stepped inside. It had low ceilings barely high enough for me to stand under and was no more than twenty feet wide, giving the room a claustrophobic feel. Adding to the crushing sense was a single torch illuminating it, leaving the corners shadowy and dark. Below the torch was the first sarcophagus. Inching forward, I scanned for traps.

  Sneak is level 4!

  Detect Traps is level 3!

  I grinned to myself, and not only at the advancement. There was one tripwire attached to the sarcophagus, and I was happy to notice it. After clipping the wire, I tried shoving off the lid of the sarcophagus to get at whatever was underneath, the heavy stone slab didn't budge.

  “Come on, help me with this,” I said to Farelle.

  The Satyr rolled h
er eyes, but though I could see she was terrified, she obliged anyway. Treasure was always a great motivator. Soon we were scraping the lid off and it clunked to the floor with a boom. My companion and I both looked nervously towards the door, but no sounds followed. We were alone, at least for the moment. Still, I whispered to Farelle, “Let's be quick.” She nodded in agreement.

  We both looked inside, and my eyes went round as fine china. Gold, both in coins and ingots, glittered around the edges of the mummified corpse. And clutched in its hands was the jeweled pommel of an immaculate longsword. Rings decorated its fingers, and silver necklaces hung from its neck.

  I met Farelle’s eyes, my own excitement mirrored in hers. “We’re rich!” I whispered.

  She nodded, than her mouth firmed. “As long as we get out of here alive. Let's put all of this in that magical satchel of yours and get the hell away.”

  I started to scoop up coins and disappear them into my inventory as quickly as I could, while the Wilder kept a nervous lookout. Soon I had everything in my inventory, and noticed a considerable weight difference when I stood. I guess I did have a bear a portion of what my inventory held; it just hadn’t been noticeable. Last of all, I whispered, “Sorry, fella,” and pried the stiff fingers off the sword. Some released easily, but three I had to break off they clung to it so stiffly. When I had it free, I held it up to the light and admired the rubies on the golden hilt.

  Jeweled Longsword of the Stars

  Quality: Master (181/200)

  Rarity: Rare

  Attributes: ? (You must identify this item to learn its magic attributes)

  “Time for that later,” Farelle snapped. “Come on, quickly.”

  I put the sword in my inventory for now — it seemed a bad idea to use such a fine weapon in battle before I knew what it was worth — and followed her out of the door to the next room. There, after carefully scanning for traps, we looted it as thoroughly as the last place. In place of a sword, this dead man clasped a double-headed battle axe, and was made of a metal black as coal. Though I was starting to get weighed down, I had no doubt it was valuable, and stashed it with the rest of the loot.