A party of four mounted adventurers galloped up from the road. One adventurer, a big man wearing chainmail, whistled in wonder at the armor and weapons strewn about. The bodies, like those of all players in Verdia, had vanished upon death, “What happened here?”
Morter pointed at Ben and Gabe, “We were about to be attacked, but they saved us.”
The man on horseback looked at Gabe, “What kind of wolf is that? I’ve never seen one before.”
“I don’t know.”
“Was it a quest reward?” a slim lady Brutalli in glittering plate asked. “Did you get the quest around here?”
“No. I just got him.” Ben was becoming embarrassed with the attention.
The four adventurers looked to one another.
Without warning, Gabe leaped up and sprinted toward the forest. Ben was nearly thrown from Gabe’s back. The boy and the wolf vanished into the trees.
…
“Weird,” the man in mail said. “That was fast. That was faster than a car.”
“Yeah!” the woman said. “I’ve never seen anything that quick. You think he’s cheating?”
“Don’t know. Let’s ask around. Maybe someone in Bluegrass knows something.”
The group of adventurers trotted off, leaving the people of Morter’s Point to harvest the spoils of war from the fallen raiders. They interpreted the arrival of the boy and the wolf as a blessing from Omni.
…
Ben and Gabe flew through the forest, going deeper and deeper into the woods. Ben struggled to speak against the wind whipping around him.
“What are you doing Gabe? Where are we going?”
The wolf pressed onward, deftly picking his way past tree branches and rotting logs. Birds fluttered into the air and small creatures scampered away to avoid being trampled.
…
“Okay guys, look. I’ll give you what I have. Just don’t hurt my horses. They mean a lot to me.” Buxley, a merchant who was bringing his wares to Bluegrass, was surrounded by a trio of robbers.
Buxley was a rail-thin Electar, and had no real way of defending himself from the robbery. His cart sat on a stretch of road that separated dense woods from a wide expanse of green farmland. No life was in sight for miles.
“We aren’t going to hurt them,” one robber, a man dressed in an unmatched assortment of armor, said, “we’re going to take them.” The other two robbers, a Brutalli and a human woman, laughed.
Buxley gulped, “Please don’t. It took me a month to save up for them. You can take everything else. Don’t ruin the game, guys.”
“Sorry man, we need the horses as much as you. Maybe you should have bought a bodyguard or some combat training instead of a second horse. Now, hands up,” the robber brandished a saber at the helpless Buxley, who had no choice but to comply.
“Get off the cart.”
Buxley stepped down sheepishly and hung his head. Branches rustled in the woods behind him. He turned to face the forest, “Did you hear that?”
“What? Are you serious?” The robber, who was about to climb onto the cart, stopped and faced Buxley. He walked over to the scared Electar and glared at him, “You’ve watched too many movies, man. Nobody falls for that stuff.”
The robber dramatically turned and faced the woods, his eyes wide with mock curiosity, “Ok, I’m distracted. Your clever ruse has gotten my attention. My defeat is now cer...”
An enormous white sabrewolf leapt from the woods and crushed the robber under his huge paws. He lowered his enormous head and snarled at the other two criminals. They ran.
Buxley took a second to regain his composure. He smiled up at the boy riding the wolf, “Thanks. They were going to take my horses. I would have lost everything.” Buxley paused for a minute as he sized up the white monster. “That’s a nice wolf.”
“You’re welcome. And thanks,” the boy said. His face was red and he was trying to catch his breath. Scratches and welts covered his arms and neck- a thousand kisses from the branches and nettles of the forest.
“Are you okay?” Buxley asked. The boy looked tired and frightened, “You want a drink or something?”
“Yeah, I just need a break I think.”
“From what?”
“From...” The words were ripped from the boy’s mouth as the wolf took off again, this time straight down the road. A plume of dust billowed into the sky and followed the wolf until it disappeared from sight.
“Thanks again,” Buxley mumbled. He climbed back on his cart and set off toward Bluegrass.
…
Ben squinted against the wind. Trees flew by on one side, and fence posts on the other. He did not bother trying to figure out what Gabe intended to do next; he was worn out and wanted to go home.
They passed several people walking down the road. Ben saw them as colored blurs of movement before they vanished. The people were consumed by the cloud of dust and dirt trailing behind Gabe like a comet’s tail. A man shouted something, but the words were mangled. Ben sighed, wondering when or if Gabe was going to stop.
…
The broxa, a sloth-like creature with a long, spiny tail and six powerful legs, was generally peaceful. Covered in dull brown fur, the broxa blended in with the shadows of the forest, where it went about its business eating bark, roots, berries, and the occasional bird’s egg.
An NPC would often decide that she needed broxa teeth for a potion or weapon or some other random project. She would offer a reward for these teeth, and someone would usually take the offer. The NPC rarely mentioned that the broxa was a fierce and dangerous fighter, and did not part with its teeth easily.
“I’m going to need a heal!” Jareth blocked a powerful swipe with his shield. Sharp digging claws left a row of scratches on the blue-painted metal. His right arm hung at his side bloody and limp, barely grasping a flanged mace. Pressed against a tree, he warded off the Broxa’s onslaught.
“Ok.” Sarah, an Electar Priestess, shot her hands forward at Jareth. Her blue robe fluttered - bathed in a holy glow.
Golden light surrounded the injured arm and restored it to working condition. Jareth raised his mace and took a swipe at the beast. The broxa swung its long spiky tail at Jareth, who barely dodged to one side.
“Blind it!” he yelled.
“What?”
“Honey, you have a spell called Blinding Light or something. Use it or this thing is going to kill me.” Jareth blocked another blow with his shield, which was beginning to look a little bent. His plate armor was tearing the bark from the tree as he scraped against it.
“This game is stupid. I can’t believe you talked me into this.” Sarah put her hands on her hips.
“You were the one who took this silly quest because you wanted the pretty necklace that comes as a reward. I didn’t know what a broxa was. It sounded small.”
“Well it’s not small! It’s like a big ugly bear with a long tail! Why aren’t there any cute monsters?”
“I know it’s not small! And how could a monster be cute?? Are you saying that you would kill a cute monster for its teeth but not an ugly one?” Jareth yelled, barely avoiding getting his face clawed off. “Darling, if you don‘t blind this thing now I‘m going to get eaten. Do you want to watch your husband get eaten?”
“I can’t find the spell and you aren’t helping! You said being a Priestess was easy!” Sarah thumbed through her Character Manager to find the spell.
“It is easy! You throw up your hands and light comes out of them! I told you to do the training missions!”
“Okay, shut up, I got it.” Sarah threw her hands forward.
A beam of light shot out and surrounded the broxa. The beast stopped its attacks for a bit in confusion, and roared. It raised its claws and began pounding away again. Jareth was nearly knocked down. He regained his footing and scowled at his wife.
“You just made it stronger! What spell was that?” Jareth’s shield looked like a crumpled soda can.
“Guiding Light?”
&n
bsp; “BLINDING Light! You were supposed to blind it, not give it magical steroids!”
Sarah crossed her arms, “If you’re going to yell at me you can just get yourself out of this.”
A vicious snarl behind Sarah made her jump. She turned to find herself staring into icy blue eyes. She froze.
“Honey?”
Jareth took a futile swing at the broxa, “What now?”
“There’s another monster.” Sarah backed away in terror.
The wolf curled his lip, exposing his enormous fangs. He slowly stalked toward the broxa. A boy sat atop the wolf - his eyes were wide with fright- the broxa was easily twice as large as the wolf. The wolf growled, getting the monster’s attention. The broxa growled back, shifting its glare to the bigger threat; a wolf and a boy.
With a low, warning growl, the wolf pressed forward, circling until he had put himself between the broxa and Jareth. The broxa lowered to all sixes and lumbered off into the woods, its spiked tail swinging defensively. The wolf remained tense until the broxa disappeared from sight.
Jareth stood up and brushed himself off, “Thanks. I was dead.”
Sarah patted the wolf’s enormous muzzle, “Good wolf!”
Without warning, the wolf licked Sarah across the face with his big wet tongue. She sputtered in disgust.
“What’s your name?” Jareth asked.
“I’m Ben, and this is Gabe.”
“Well thanks again, Ben.”
Ben patted Gabe on the head between his ears, “Can we go home now?”
The wolf turned around and loped back to the south; the Wolf Rider had finished his work for this day.
…
Laura was in the cottage writing in her journal when Ben and Gabe returned. Ben stumbled in the door. He gave a weary wave and went straight to his room. Gabe panted outside - noisily lapping up the water from a giant rain barrel. Laura shook her head. What a weird game.
The Great Forum
Verdia City
The elder’s gavel slammed onto his desk. “There will be order!” he yelled. The “elder” was a Dalton customer service employee. He took the form of an old Brutalli with a flowing white mane and beard. A black robe covered his massive form. His voice was deep and gravelly.
He presided over one of many halls in the Great Forum, a place where players could come and discuss the game. This particular hall handled technical complaints and issues, and was more crowded than usual. Many rows of seats billowed with angry customers. Word had spread quickly of strange happenings on the frontier, and players were shouting accusations of cheating and threatening to cancel their accounts.
When the gavel struck, the entire room fell silent. The audience’s mouths were moving, but no sound escaped. The elder stood up.
He spoke calmly, “If you want to be heard you will be civil. Now, one at a time, starting with the man in the front.”
The man rose to his feet, “Yesterday, I was traveling in the South on my way to Bluegrass, and I came to Morter’s Point. A battle had taken place there. Several hundred Conquerors had been slaughtered...”
“I was one of them!” a man in the back yelled.
“Be silent!” the elder demanded. He looked back down at the first man, “Continue.”
The man nodded, “Several hundred. And there were only twenty NPCs and a boy on a huge white saberwolf. I approached and asked where he got the wolf, and he said he just did. Then, the wolf took off into the forest. It cleared a half mile in about ten seconds.”
“I was there as well,” a Brutalli woman beside the man spoke up. “What he says is true.”
“Impossible!” someone shouted.
“That’s hacking!” another voice declared, and the hall echoed with grumbles.
An Electar in the midst of the crowd raised his hand. The elder pointed to him.
“You, you may speak.”
The Electar cleared his throat, “My name is Buxley. I was travelling to Bluegrass as well. I was about twenty miles southwest of Morter’s Point when I was attacked by robbers. A boy on a white wolf appeared from the woods and scared them off. Then, the boy and the wolf disappeared down the road. They were going very fast.”
“Did you save the time?” the other man asked.
“Yes. My timestamp says 14:47, and the coordinates are almost exactly twenty miles west of Morter’s Point.”
The man who had spoken first pulled out his Character Manager. He looked up at the elder, “After the event I marked the time. My timestamp is 14:41. That is twenty miles in six minutes. Two hundred miles an hour.”
The room exploded as people shouted in anger. Such a creature should not exist in Verdia. It was not fair. How can anyone stand a chance against that? Where did the wolf come from? Had the game been hacked? Do the wolves come in other colors besides white?
“Enough!” the elder banged his gavel again, washing the room in silence. “The matter is being looked into. We will get back to you when we have enough information. Until we have proof of such an occurrence I cannot comment further. The matter is closed for now in this forum. If you wish to discuss it further you must go to the general discussion hall.”
The crowd members glanced around. As one body they rose and exited the room, headed for the general discussion hall. One man remained. Alex Olson stared at the floor, lost in deep thought.
“Looks like it’s lunch time for met” the elder said. He stood to leave, “Did you have anything to say? Any technical issues?”
“It sure sounds like it, doesn’t it?”
“The wolf thing? We will definitely look into it.”
“Good, I want a report on it within the hour.”
The elder laughed at Alex, not realizing who he was, “Okay, who do I send it to?”
“Make it to the attention of Alex Olson.” Alex stood up and left.
Fearful recognition crept across the elder’s face. He winced and sat down. It looked like he would be working through lunch.
Gilgal, the Conquerors’ City
The Council Chambers were full of commotion. Word of the Wolf Rider reached Gilgal after the slaughtered raiders from Morter’s Point resurrected there. Knowing there was no sense in going back to the battlefield to retrieve their gear - as it would have been picked clean - the fallen Conquerors had immediately complained to anyone who would listen.
While the Explorer faction lacked any real government - with Kogan as a figurehead leader - the Conquerors were governed by a Council of Nine. Two representatives from each race sat at the Council table, as well as a ninth member who was chosen as the leader. The current leader was an Electar Warlock known as Tungsten. His turned his face, grey and haggard from toying with dark energy, to the Council’s audience. Four Council members sat on either side of the tall, gaunt figure.
Black, soulless eyes searched the audience; silence drug on to the point of awkwardness. Tungsten’s demeanor and method of oration suggested that he was probably a professor or lawyer in real life. He was comfortable in front of a crowd, and relished the attention.
Finally, Tungsten spoke, “Dalton customer service is trying to quiet the rumors of this white wolf. They would like us to believe that it does not exist. This is puzzling, as they could easily say that the wolf is part of the game and be done with it.”
The audience nodded in agreement. This dark room hosted Conquerors from the far reaches of Verdia. In the back corner, Viper sat in silence. He was not a Conqueror, but he was on less than good terms with the Explorers. He needed information, and it had to come from somewhere.
Tungsten continued, “This leads the Council to believe that the wolf is an anomaly. Whether this boy - this Wolf Rider named Ben - is a cheater or not is irrelevant. What matters is that if the wolf is indeed an anomaly, it should have been removed from the game already.
“The Council has concluded that something is preventing Dalton customer service, and even Omni himself, from dealing with this problem. Maybe the wolf is an intended part of the game. The
re is the possibility that this wolf has something to do with the “Secret of Verdia” contest. Regardless, this is a great opportunity for the Conquerors to move first. We can capture this wolf for ourselves, and whatever advantages it offers will be ours. There is the potential to breed more of these wolves, which would all but guarantee complete annihilation of the Explorers.”
United, the audience shouted agreement. The Explorers and Conquerors had been at odds for most of the game’s history, and the Conquerors held a major advantage that they intended to keep.
The Battle of Dragon’s Tears - a fight that took place before the game had even officially launched - was a complete victory for the Conquerors, giving them rights to the primary pass through the Great Northern Range that lead to the interior of Verdia. They were currently constructing a huge tunnel through the mountain range. When it was finished, Conquerors would have unhindered access to the rich interior of the continent.
Viper smirked.
The Conquerors were always looking to rule the world, but most of them were too stupid to do it properly. While they were building their tunnel, the Explorers had been constructing a robust navy to carry and protect their goods. Focusing on the tunnel would give the Conquerors an economic advantage on land, but at the expense of control of the sea.
Explorers really were not any brighter; they were hindered by the idea that their actions in the game had some bearing on real-world integrity. Both factions were laughable to him, which is why he had never joined one.
He would, however, work for the Conquerors on occasion. The Conquerors disliked him for various reasons; the Explorers hated him. Viper’s thoughts briefly wandered to the past, but he refocused on the matter at hand.
Tungsten continued his speech, “This is why we are commissioning a task force to travel south and capture the wolf. The Council moves that this task force be led by Grave. He is currently on assignment, and will be recalled.”
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