by Sam Ferguson
“Exactly,” Brian said. “And what better way to establish order than to take the crystal?”
Mike thought for a while, scratching his chin and mumbling to himself. After a bit he turned back to Brian. “So, let’s think about this,” he said as his rhiquin stepped through thin ice in a shallow pond that barely came up to the animal’s knees. “Every NPC that is waking up is basically becoming a more true version of their base function, right?” Mike pointed to Shuggra. “She is a surly half-orc willing to beat the brains out of anyone that disagrees with her.” He then gestured to Atheron. “The dwarf wizard is headstrong as well, but seeks knowledge and power. Freya lives only to serve you, since I imagine she was programmed to be a love interest and has latched onto you for that, and Pan is...”
“Pan is Pan,” Brian agreed.
“Exactly,” Mike said. “And those two assassins back in Fezhik, they are simply an amplified version of themselves. Rored is the same.”
“How so?” Brian asked.
“Rored seeks to establish order, but he doesn’t seek to rule. He needs a champion. That champion here was you, but now he needs a new one.”
“One of the assassins,” Brian guessed.
Mike smiled. “So, while Rored could probably fight to take the crystal himself, I don’t think he will. I think he will get his protégé close and then allow that assassin the honor of victory. Then that assassin would take over the continent and thereby establish order.”
‘That fits with how he spoke to me,” Brian said. “He talked about creating order here, then on Earth, and then in the land wherever we came from.”
“There you have it,” Mike said. “He doesn’t want to rule, he wants to pull the strings.”
“But you could be wrong,” Brian said.
Mike snickered. “Well of course I could be wrong, but I choose not to dwell on things I can’t control. Let’s just focus on what we can do, isn’t that what you always say? Let’s fight to get to the crystal first. After all, Rored still has to find all the keys. His network of spies might be good, but they aren’t ahead of us, not yet.”
Brian wished he had Mike’s faith. It was hard to remain so optimistic when he considered the odds they had stacked against them. As if reading Brian’s thoughts, Mike leaned over and gestured toward him.
“Besides, think of all the incredible odds we’ve already beaten,” he said. “Just the leviathan alone, that was incredible.”
Offering a half smile, Brian let the conversation die.
The group startled a herd of caribou, a rather lame animal to have in a game filled with so many fantastic creatures, but Brian welcomed the reprieve. He was also happy the game hadn’t factored in relentless cold. Each of the characters and the rhiquin handled the increasing cold as well as they had tolerated the forest. A bit of frost dusted the edges of the metal armor and weapons, and light spots of ice crystals formed on the rhiquin antennae, but no one suffered any stamina or HP damage from the environment.
As soon as they passed the last of the ponds, the rhiquin were able to break into a full gallop once more. They crossed the plains in a matter of minutes, reaching the base of the mountains without seeing any dangerous creatures. Once there, however, even Pan sat up to take careful notice of his surroundings.
“We need to be quiet,” he warned. “We should go over the mountains in single file. I know the way, but it is also sometimes used by frost giants.”
“Well, at least we have a small army,” Chris said.
Pan scooted closer to Rhonda, but to Brian it appeared that the satyr was careful to always maintain separation between them as he pointed out the best routes to travel up the base of the mountain.
Bits of snow fell from the nearby pine trees that dotted the lower region of the mountains as the rhiquin caravan passed, but otherwise there was hardly any movement besides the wind. About a third of the way up the mountain, Pan had Rhonda stop her mount. He signaled to one of his bodyguards and then pointed out to a snow-covered boulder.
The bodyguard readied his bardiche and stalked quietly toward the boulder. Snow exploded from the rock as it unrolled, revealing it to be a centipede-like creature with massive mandibles and two forelegs that had large pincers like a crab.
The bodyguard swept down with the bardiche, slicing off one of the pincers and then, spinning the weapon effortlessly, he twirled around for momentum as the centipede-thing lunged at him.
Kshink!
The other pincer flew free from the monster. It hissed and shook its body, creating a loud rattling sound. The satyr leapt over it as it rushed toward him, the bardiche coming down in the center of the centipede’s back and cracking through the hard chitin plates like a hammer to a boiled crab shell, splintering bits of chitin and spilling black goo on the snow.
The bodyguard landed next to the monster, pulled his weapon free, and moved to sever the head. After cleaning his weapon in the snow, he walked back to the rhiquin he had been riding as if nothing had happened.
“The blood makes for good potions,” Pan said. “They can sterilize wounds or be used in fire elixirs.” The satyr wrinkled his nose. “Not good as a wine additive though, trust me.”
Rhonda slipped down from her steed and looted the creature. “I got three vials of blood from it,” she said.
“Three is a good amount,” Pan said. “We should go before the parents smell the blood.”
“Parents?” Rhonda asked.
Pan nodded. “That was a baby, maybe just two or three weeks old. They get bigger—much bigger.”
Rhonda glanced to Brian, and he gestured with his hand to hurry up.
The group continued up the mountain. In real life such a climb would have taken days of travel in the kind of blizzard that hit the group, but in the game it lasted only ten minutes or so before they were up over the top and down to the tundra on the other side.
“Polaris is to the south,” Pan said. “But we don’t want to go there. The centaurs there make good wine, but the cold makes them mean. Best to head due east for Bielshire as fast as the rhiquin can go.”
Rhonda turned and the group galloped along. The rhiquin made the trip much faster than horses in the game would have. A couple of furry monsters tried to charge them, but none could keep up. Other predators came only close enough to hear the rhiquin’s supersonic noise before snarling and turning the other way.
Brian was surprised to see plenty of vegetation growing in the frozen tundra. Snowpod grass sprang up in mounded clumps. Red pine trees grew nearly forty feet tall, their branches forming a nearly uniform column around the central trunk. Scattered along the route there were all sorts of animal life that could be seen. Caribou, albino elk and deer, theropod dinosaurs with fur or feathers that would hunt in packs of two or three at a time to chase the herbivores. There were also wooly mammoths and massive sloths that moved along the trees and sampled the red needles.
“Ironic to see megatherium,” Mike said. “There are caves nearby our dig site known to have been inhabited by them.”
Brian nodded. He knew of the caves where the giant sloth skeletons had been found.
The group traveled until nightfall in the game, and then they stopped at Rhonda’s request to make camp. Pan directed his bodyguards to build fires in seven places around the group of rhiquin to keep them safe from predators. Atheron, Freya, and the other companions built a fire and then hunted a few of the albino elk for dinner. They began roasting the meat while Rhonda moved a couple hundred yards away from camp.
Brian, his curiosity piqued, went into sneak mode and followed her to a small hill. Taking Little Man out of the satchel, Rhonda then pulled out her alchemy set and began cooking something. The moonlight elixir! Brian noticed that the hill she had chosen was bathed in moonlight. She moved effortlessly. Of course he knew it was just a mini cut scene, but he still admired her. He imagined her actual body sitting there on the snowy hill, doing all the same things with the ingredients that her avatar was now doing.
“Yes!” Rhonda exclaimed to herself. She knelt beside Little Man and stroked his head. “You have been a wonderful companion,” she said, “but it’s time to become more than a little pet.”
She gave Little Man the last elixir. She then appeared to interface with him, as they both became perfectly still for a moment. Little Man curled up in a ball and went to sleep. Rhonda’s character laid out a bedroll and curled up next to Little Man.
The game shouldn’t have let Rhonda initiate a sleep cycle if any enemies had been within range to attack, but Brian didn’t trust the game. He remained where he was for about fifteen minutes as the moon slowly drifted across the night sky. A faint aurora painted the southern horizon for a minute or so, and then Rhonda and Little Man woke up. At least it didn’t require her to sleep through the whole night.
There was a golden ripple of light across the creature’s fur. It grew to the size of a dog, then to a large wolf, and then to the height of a tall black bear while maintaining the lean proportions of a wolf. Little Man’s legs thickened and his chest broadened. Bright blue and white spots appeared in the moonlight, creating a beautiful design across Little Man’s face and hackles. Spikes now grew from where there had once only been nubs along the spine. They glowed a brilliant green in the moonlight as they flexed upright for a moment and then laid back a bit toward the animal’s incredibly bushy, fox-like tail. The moondust wolf looked to the moon, threw its head back, and howled so loudly that it echoed across the tundra.
Rhonda stood and started walking toward camp once more.
Brian stood, exiting sneak mode and giving Rhonda a bit of a scare.
“Oh, I didn’t see you there,” she said.
“I just wanted to make sure you were both safe,” he said.
Rhonda reached out to the side and gave Little Man’s head a soft pet. “I think he is more than capable of handling anything out here.”
Brian smiled. He knew the creature would be friendly to him so long as he was kind to Rhonda, and yet seeing the beast up close gave him a shiver that ran up his spine. It was much larger than any of the adults Brian had seen early on in the game. The three of them walked back to camp, arriving well after the others had eaten.
“And where have you been?” Freya asked. Her voice had lost its usual pleasant tone.
Brian pointed to Little Man. “Rhonda made the last elixir and transformed him.”
“Oh, that’s awesome!” Mike shouted.
Freya looked to the wolf, then to Rhonda, and then walked to the far side of the camp and set up her bedroll to go to sleep.
“What’s with her?” Brian asked when Mike came close to pet Little Man. Mike shrugged and knelt beside the large wolf.
Shuggra approached and regarded the wolf, then looked to Brian from behind her mask. “She is the only mercenary who is here without being paid. Once you understand why that is, you’ll understand why she’s upset, outlander.” Shuggra moved to the eastern side of the camp until she was far enough to keep her face out of view from the others. Angling her mask up over the top of her head, she began smoking from a pipe.
“She has a point,” Mike said.
Brian glanced over to Freya. It all came down to the NPC’s primary function. Freya was a warrior, but she was programed to be in a relationship with a player, should that player take the right steps. Apparently, Brian had made all the right in-game moves. As Rhonda and the now-grown wolf moved to the center of the camp, he couldn’t help but wish real life was just as easy. Buy Rhonda a couple flowers, find a ring she lost, strike up one or two small talk conversations, then BAM! Relationship time.
Why were humans so much more complex? Perhaps that was what had driven him to dig up dead cities in the first place. Uncovering a lost civilization gave him perspective on the find. He could learn and judge the find without them learning about him and judging him in return.
Brian sighed and shook his head. “Do you think the NPCs really need to sleep?” he asked Mike.
Mike shrugged. “I doubt it. I think they’re just doing it because we aren’t moving. It’s like their idle animation or something.”
“Then let’s get them up and move along. I want this to be over with ASAP.”
The mercenaries all gathered their bedrolls without complaint, as did the satyr bodyguards. Pan, on the other hand, was an entirely different matter.
“This is not pleasant,” he said over and over as he fought off large yawns and asked others if they had any more wine to share for the road.
The group mounted their rhiquin and galloped along toward Bielshire. Little Man no longer fit in a satchel, but he kept pace with the rhiquin easily enough. The group kept up the grueling pace until they saw Bielshire’s tall walls glistening in the golden light of the rising sun. There were stone houses outside the city walls as well, each with large stone and timber fences that surrounded the house and a few acres of land that corralled things that looked like wooly rhinoceri.
The group slowed their steeds as they neared the walls. The gates were shut, and the battlements were filled with archers watching them carefully. A horn sounded within the city somewhere beyond the walls. Brian and the others waited for about three minutes before a small man door set inside the massive black iron gates opened and two women emerged.
Each of them wore golden armor and carried both a spear in their hands and swords at their sides. Above them, the archers on the battlements all loaded arrows, but they didn’t draw their bowstrings. Brian figured they were preparing just in case things turned ugly. He made a show of holding his empty hands out as he slid down from his rhiquin and then took a couple steps toward the women.
“We have come to seek guidance,” Brian said. “We need your help.”
The two women strode up to him confidently. Their spears marked the snow as they stamped the shafts to the ground with each step. As they came closer, he could see that their black capes were held in place with a silver clasp in the shape of a wolf paw. He’d read enough of the Terramyr books to know exactly who these women were.
“Rhonda,” he called out. “I think they’re going to want to speak with you.”
“What is your name?” the first woman asked.
Brian almost replied with his real name, but then realized he should use his in-game name. No use giving anyone more information than they needed, just in case Rored was able to get anything out of them. Just then he realized he’d already slipped up calling Rhonda by her name, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it now.
“What is your name?” the first woman repeated.
“I am Bob, from House Bob.” The two women glanced at each other and then smirked at him.
“That is a strange name, if it is your true name,” the first said.
“What kind of help do you expect from us?” the second asked.
Rhonda approached. “They want to speak with me?” she asked.
Brian nodded and pointed to the silver wolf paw clasps. “These women belong to a special clan of Amazonian warriors. They are called Kyra’s Fangs.”
“You know of us?” the first asked.
Brian nodded and pointed to Rhonda. “She worships Kyra as well. We are friends.”
The second woman narrowed her eyes at him. “Another came, claiming to be our friend. He said he would help us restore order.”
“Rored was here?” Brian asked.
The women nodded. “Is he your friend?”
Brian looked to Rhonda. He wasn’t sure what to say now. Had this group already aligned with Rored? Was it too late? Brian thought quickly, recalling everything he had read about the group. Then, a smile came to his face as he realized they never would have aligned with Rored. Brian shook his head. “We are not friends with Rored, he hunts us.”
The two women seemed unconvinced. “Why would he hunt you, and why should we care?”
“Because Rored’s method of insta
lling order is to rule by force, to compel obedience by the sword. But that’s not Kyra’s way, he said.”
“You speak the goddess’s name, and yet you wear the robes of an assassin. You are from the same guild as the one called Rored, and you speak like his companions did, with guile and deceit.”
The first woman held up her spear.
The row of archers on the wall drew back their bowstrings.
“No, no! Wait. I am not like them.” He took in a steadying breath and unequipped the Morr’Tai attire, trading it out for common clothing. “I may look like them, but I am not one of them. I seek to protect the Crystal of Power. You see, I have the same mission you do. I even know of Jonathan and Morgan Haymaker, your ancestors!”
The woman holding the spear tilted her head. “And why should I believe you? Because you can recite names and tenets?”
“Now would be a good time to introduce Little Man,” Brian said.
Rhonda whistled. Little Man rushed up and sat at her side, happily panting and studying the two women.
The first woman gently lowered her spear. The archers relaxed their bows and pointed them down.
Brian sighed with relief.
“She is a follower of Kyra, and we truly are here for the same reasons you are. We want to protect the Crystal of Power. Rored would steal it to try and abuse its power. That is why he hunts us.”
The women nodded to each other.
“Kyra’s blessing would not fall upon the dishonorable,” said the first woman.
“Agreed,” said the second. She turned to Rhonda and gave a bow of her head. “A true follower of Kyra shall always find safe harbor here. Bielshire was once governed by others who sought power, for they knew this would be the closest place from which to launch the search for the sacred keys that hold the crystal in its box. We defeated the black-hearted scoundrels two years ago and have since established a powerful base here. Kyra’s Fangs is not only an army, but an order of mercy. We shelter the weak here and give rest to the weary so long as they are honorable. Come inside. We shall have food and rest for all of your party.”
