The Lionheart

by Stevie Collier

  “Are you a ganker?” I asked him.

  He slammed his fist on the branch. “No!” he yelled. “No, I am not! I am a single player who defied the rules and asked too many questions! I am not who I was created to be. I am not an evil Archean like my brethren but I’m not as pure as you damned Light Faction players are either! I’m… well, I am myself.” Tears welled in the lower parts of his eyes, from anger or sadness I couldn’t tell.

  Could he be talking about what I had done to myself? Did he mean he had broken the control of his creator? Was I not alone?

  “What do you mean you asked too many questions?” I tried to ask. But it was clear I would not be getting any answers at this time. The poor Archean was shaking from terror.

  “Bataar! Come on down! You are hereby charged with the crime of crossing the border and entering the Ashvell Kingdom, the Light Faction starter territory, without our King’s permission. What say you?”

  “Like your King would have given me permission!” Bataar called down to the torch holding players that now encircled our tree. “I have every right to be here! I have harmed not a single player! Just let me do as I have planned all along! Live and level off the land!”

  “Your desires make no difference to me. You know the rules as does every other player of the Dark Faction. Your presence in this land is a danger to all. Now, are you coming down or shall I send the Trackers to fetch you?”

  Bataar’s shoulders rose as he took a deep breath. He wiped the tears from his eyes with the back of his hand and took a more confident air.

  “I am coming down of my own accord, you bastard.”

  The members of the Gold Alliance chuckled. I scanned them one by one and found most of their levels to be upper 80s and even a few level 100s. Resistance was, for sure, a futile attempt.

  “And who is this Tharis you have with you? Is he a captive of yours?”

  The heroic voice belonged to a Level 100 Chieftain, a class I had not yet heard of. His name was Vane.

  “I am not his captive!” I called down below. “He is my friend!”

  Bataar had crawled over me and was preparing to climb down. But when he heard me call him friend, his head spun to look at me. His eyes revealed his surprise and even a hint of appreciation.

  There was laughter from below. The torches jostled in the night air and I could hear the faint whispers of a player into Vane’s ear followed by his grunt of approval.

  “I, Vane the First, leader of the Golden Alliance, hereby declare you, Tharis,” he exclaimed, the torchlight displaying an armored finger pointing at me, “suspect of conniving with a Dark Faction player. You are under arrest.”

  14

  We were shoved into a rusty cage on the back of a wagon. Two brown horses pawed at the ground eager to start the journey. As to where, I had no idea. The only thing I could think about was that every moment not spent leveling was a moment lost to save Ushmoe. As much as I hated to admit it to myself, he was most likely already dead.

  Three players stood in front of the cage with the job of guarding us. Judging by how still they were, they seemed to be well trained.

  “Err, sorry to ugh… pull you into this mess, Tharis.”

  I rubbed my hand through my hair out of frustration. “Not your fault,” I replied. “It’s my own fault for saving you.”

  He laughed at my words and then sighed. “Perhaps it would have been best for an old Archean like myself to have just perished.”

  “Nah, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m not really good at looking the other way when someone’s in trouble.”

  “Is that how you got the title Preserver?”

  “Yeah, it kinda happened by accident actually.”

  “Hmm,” snorted Bataar, “you are quite strange and rare in this world. Either that, or you’re just plain idiotic. Either way, I’ve traveled far from my homelands and have yet to meet a player with your… resolve.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well,” Bataar said, looking out thoughtfully through our cage. “Never have I met someone selfless. Sure, I’ve met others who were willing to help but never have I met someone willing to put their life on the line. It’s unheard of in Drathos. Not sure if I’d have done the same for you.”

  We sat in silence for a few moments, both of us probably fantasizing about what horrible fate we were about to be put to. The guards remained standing at full attention, wearing the armor of their class.

  I checked around the cage to look for any sign of weakness in the nuts and bolts or perhaps in the bars themselves. Nothing. We were stuck in here. Besides, even if we did escape this cage I was sure that their Trackers could easily catch up to us.

  “You know what else is strange, Tharis?” asked Bataar, breaking the silence.

  “What’s that?”

  “I’ve been hiding in that damned forest for three weeks and you are the first player I have seen that entire time. It’s a shame that we had to meet at such an inconvenient time.” The Archean grabbed the tip of his tail and studied it for a moment, his mind lost in thought.

  “There’s a reason why I was the only player you’d seen.”

  “Oh yeah?” asked Bataar with an inquisitive air. “And why is that exactly?”

  We had nowhere else to go, so I chose to just confide in this Archean and tell him everything I knew. I started at the beginning, describing my birth and my reluctance at being controlled. I told him about the weird manner the world would behave when I asked questions in my head or out loud. His eyes widened at this and I wasn’t sure if he believed me or not, but still I continued.

  I told him about Toxhin and how evil of a player he was and how he was keeping everyone in Ashvell as captives. I told him about Ushmoe and how he had helped me to level. I even went into detail about Tahshine and how she had been there when we’d made our insane escape. I told him everything.

  Bataar listened to my whole story without interrupting once. His face showed his commitment to my words followed by expressions that were suitable to the part of the story I was at. When I finished the last of my tale, we again sat in silence as we both let the words sink in.

  “My, what an adventure you’ve had!” he exclaimed. “I see we have both rid ourselves of our designer.”

  I was taken aback for I was much more expecting him to be hesitant and skeptical.

  “You, too?” I asked, standing to my feet. My head banged on the top of the cage making all three guards turn towards me. They were expressionless and, once they were sure I was still in the cage, they turned back to their business of guarding. I bent down and whispered, “I’m not the only one?”

  Bataar shrugged. “Honestly, you’re the second I’ve run across and it wouldn’t surprise me if there were others like us. The feeling of control I once felt was so… obvious and oppressive. That’s the only way I could describe it. I couldn’t take a piss without the temptation to attack some beast within my reach just to gain some XP. That’s when I found my mentor. Crazy old bastard he was.”

  “A mentor? You mean somebody taught you how to break the control?”

  Bataar nodded, “Yeah, but he is no longer with us. Killed accidentally by a horde of beasts pulled by some noob.” The Archean looked suddenly embarrassed, realizing he had just done the exact same thing.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” I said, pretending not to notice his shame. “I imagine death is much more punishing for players like us.”

  “Indeed.”

  “Why did you leave your faction?” I asked him, curious as to why someone who was free of their creator would put themselves in such danger.

  Bataar looked up at me in a confused glance. “Are you telling me that you were not seeking after the great Wizard, Muzuhlan?”

  The name hit me as familiar but I couldn’t quite place my finger on it. I tried to think back to all the people I had met, which wasn’t very many. Finally, the quirky character came to me.

  “You mean the Wizard that gives you
that starter quest?”

  Bataar leaned his back against the bars and maneuvered himself much like a cat would trying to get comfy. “All Dark Faction players are started off by being sold into slavery just to be rescued by some NPC characters. So no, I have never seen Muzuhlan, only heard of him. My mentor mentioned him from time to time as being the keeper of information for our kind, the Enlightened.”

  The Enlightened. So that was what this mysterious mentor had called us. Were there many more of us out there? Could Muzuhlan really have all the answers for us in this almost pointless life?

  I was just about to ask Bataar more questions when the guards turned their bodies towards us and pointed their spears in our direction.

  “Captain!” they called, readying themselves to strike us if we tried anything stupid.

  “At ease, boys,” came the heroic voice. “Like these two low level players could do anything to harm the likes of me.”

  The fires from camp shone flickers of light on the tall Vane, who now stood before us. The flames brought an even more awesome effect to this guy’s already incredible golden plate armor. His brown hair was long and rested over his massive, spiked pauldrons. His ears and height gave him away as being a human.

  “You two are going to tell me everything or face immediate execution,” Vane said, crossing his arms over his chest. “You three can leave,” he said, dismissing the guards with a flick of the wrist. They shrugged and went off to join the festivities at the fire.

  Vane pulled a key off his hip and unlatched the cage door, it swung with a loud, rusty creak and we three just sat there staring at each other.

  “Well?” he said, “Come on out. I’m no Dark Faction player. There are no heathens here.” He shot Bataar a disgusted look. “You will be fed and,” he sniffed the air and raised an eyebrow at us, “and cleaned. Then, of course, you two will be questioned.”

  Bataar glanced at me out of the corner of his eye and something in that look assured me of what I was already thinking. We could not admit that we were Enlightened.

  We were both lucky enough that they let us bathe ourselves. They were even kind enough to give us a bit of privacy. We were then chained, once again, by our wrists and ankles and ushered towards the fire where we were given pots of stew. Both Bataar and I devoured the food like wild animals.

  As I was eating, I was nonchalantly looking for some way to escape. We were effectively surrounded by at least two hundred players. Why were there so damned many? I doubted it would take more than one mid-leveled Tracker to find and catch Bataar and me. So then, why did this Vane guy need so many players?

  Once we had both finished our fill of stew, Vane came and sat on a log directly in front of us. He didn’t say anything. He just sat there and examined us with a condescending gaze. He held himself as a high and mighty player which he probably deserved if he was able to lead over two hundred players. I couldn’t help but feel a bit embarrassed at the vast difference between him and me.

  “Out with it,” he said, placing his chin in his palm, his elbow resting on his leg. “I’ve been more than kind to the two of you, more than you probably deserve. If I don’t start getting more harsh, my players may begin to question my authority.”

  I had nothing to hide from this guy.

  “What do you want to know?” I asked him.

  “Are you from Ashvell?” he asked without hesitation.

  “Yes, I am.”

  Vane shook his head. “Already lying to me!” He kicked me hard in the face, making me topple over the log I was sitting on. He snapped his fingers and two of his men hoisted me back up.

  Health: 65%

  “We both know that no starter player is able to escape from Ashvell. No one.”

  I spat some iron-tasting crimson out of my mouth. “But I did.”

  He kicked me again, only this time he chose my chest. There was a snapping noise followed by immense pain. My ribs had broken. This was the first time I had broken any bones as an Enlightened. The ribs had already begun to mend themselves as my health started to rejuvenate. I couldn’t tell which was worse, the actual breaking of the bones or that of them healing themselves.

  “I could do this all day, noob.”

  “Hmph, some Light Faction player you are,” Bataar said, rolling his eyes. “It’s not like he has anything to gain from lying to an idiot like you.”

  “Gag him,” commanded Vane. The men left my side and stuffed a dirty, old sock into the Archean’s mouth. Vane looked back at me. He looked to be getting tired of this situation. “I’ll give you one last chance, you pathetic Warrior. Where did you come from?”

  I thought hard about the next words that were to come from my mouth. Just as I opened my lips to speak, there was a loud crack that came from my loot bag.

  “What the hell was that?” Vane asked. “What’s in your bag?”

  I had no idea what could have made that sound. I didn’t remember looting anything that may have moved or made a noise.

  “If you’d let me, I could pull my loot bag out and check.”

  Vane squinted his eyes at me as if searching my mind for any malicious ideas that I may have had. Then, he made a motion with his arm to his men and they undid my chains.

  Quickly, I summoned my loot bag and checked its inventory.

  And there it was. My saving grace.

  I pulled out the egg of the Raptor-Raven. I had totally forgotten about it. Ushmoe and I were just about to turn in this quest when we had heard the cries of Lehn in the city square.

  Raptor-Raven Egg

  Durability: 1%

  “It couldn’t be,” exclaimed Vane, coming closer to the green-spotted egg that I now held out in front of me.

  Another loud crack made us all flinch a bit. A tiny, featherless head popped out from the top of the egg, a bit of shell resting on its head like a hat.

  “That there’s a Raptor-Raven!” came a cry from one of Vane’s players who had been watching the performance. “Them’s can only be found in Ashvell! Very rare fer one of them’s to hatch! Takes the right kinds of nurturin’ I hear.”

  Vane’s eyes were wide as he reached out to take the baby Raptor-Raven from me. I pulled it away from him which made him snap out of his trance. He looked to be a bit disappointed.

  “Well,” Vane said, “you were telling the truth all along.”

  He handed me a vial of red juice. I took it and drank. Thankfully, the potion allowed my ribs to skip the mending process. I twisted my torso at my hips, totally pain free.

  Health: 100%

  The baby bird looked just like its mother. It was just one round and ugly head with two tiny wings sticking out were ears may have been. Its eyes weren’t even developed enough to open yet.

  “Are you going to free the players of Ashvell?” I asked Vane without looking up from my bird. “Is that why you have so many players with you?”

  I could sense the man’s lack of comfort with the question. He shifted his feet and I could hear his breathing grow a bit heavier. It didn’t last long before he regained his heroic composure.

  “Yes. Our intelligence shows that Ashvell has been locked away for some time now by a player named Toxhin. We also know he is a member of the guild Dagger Heart.”

  “He isn’t part of the guild yet,” I corrected. “He has taken Ashvell as a hostage city in order to gain their acceptance. At least, that’s what one player told me.” One of Vane’s players was quickly scribbling down everything I was saying. “Why do you need such an army to vanquish one player?” I asked him with a slight hint of sting in my voice.

  My tone was not taken well for he again lifted his foot to kick me but was stopped by a hooded figure that placed a small, furry hand on his chest. I took this moment to store the baby bird into the safety of my bag.

  “What the-”

  “You no longer need harm this one,” came a tiny, feminine voice. A black tail protruded from a hole in her robes and was busy flicking itself with excitement. “We could use h
im, Vane.”

  Vane eye’s flashed from me then back at the robed woman. He slowly placed his foot back down.

  “And how could we use this player? He’s absolutely useless.”

  I scanned this mysterious Badron’s name. But what I saw confused me. Her name and level were hidden with question marks just like Tahshine the Trickster had done, but her class title was that of Schemer. So far Chieftain and Schemer were both classes I never knew existed.

  As if reading my mind, the Badron said, “Schemer is a sub-class of Trickster, young noob. We all get a sub-class at Level 20.”

  I opened my mouth to ask more questions but the Badron’s piercing glare told me now was not the time.

  “Vane,” the Badron continued, “we risk losing many players in the battle to come. Somehow, those damned Dagger Hearts figured out our plan and have surrounded the entire village.”

  “And?” asked Vane, becoming impatient.

  “Let this one reenter the village the same way he exited. Once infiltrated, he can subdue Toxhin and bring him to us. That way, no bloodshed need be spilled.”

  “And what exactly makes you think that just by us having Toxhin under our control that that murdering guild of hoodlums would even think about releasing their hold on Ashvell?”

  “I have an idea, an idea that need not be heard by the ears of these two.” She gave Bataar and me a blank glance. “They’ve probably heard enough as it is.”

  Vane pierced his lips in thought. He then turned his head and spat. “Agree.”

  Vane stood up and the Badron put her hand on his hip as she led him away, all the while whispering in his ear with her pointy, whiskered snout.

  A few minutes went by. I saved Bataar some embarrassment by refusing not to look at him with the sock in his mouth.

  The camp froze with a cry from Vane saying, “Minx, you dirty Schemer! That’s a great idea!”

  Excitement brewed inside of me. It looked as though I would be placed right where I wanted to be, back in Ashvell to save my friend and kick Toxhin’s ass. I could care less about helping this Golden Alliance but, perhaps, this would be my only chance to save my first friend. IF he was still alive.