by Phil Tucker
“Morning! Hungry?”
“Yeah, like you wouldn’t believe.” I sat on one of the two rocks beside the table. “Where’d all this come from? You pack breakfast along with Void Blades?”
She laughed, clearly in a good mood. She’d changed out of yesterday’s skimpier outfit into something more practical, a complex combination of crimson-dyed leather and black scale mail that looked at once supple and tough. “Hardly. Did you honestly think I’d slum it just because I was going back to level one?” She took up my plate and slid three sausages that were cooked near to bursting onto it, along with three perfectly fried eggs. “That’s a Handsome Gourmand’s Everypack,” she said, gesturing at the picnic basket with her spatula. “One of my favorite item drops ever. It’s like a pantry, washing machine, and Crate and Barrel all in one.”
She served her own plate, tossed the frying pan into the basket, then sat and pulled out a carafe filled with orange juice from the basket’s depths. “If I were forced to marry and have carnal relations with an object made of wicker, this would be it. OJ?”
“I—sure, yeah.” I watched as she filled my glass, then her own, then dropped the carafe back into the basket. It disappeared as neatly as the pan had. “Any coffee?”
“Sure. How do you want it?”
I laughed, amazed. “What, it’s got an espresso machine in there too?”
“Now you’re seeing why I insisted on bringing it along. Here.” She pulled out a steaming mug. “Double shot latte, touch of cream, brown sugar. That still how you like it?”
“Yeah,” I said, a little uneasy. She’d remembered. “Thanks.”
She flashed me a smile, draped a napkin over her crossed legs, then leaned forward to spear a sausage with her fork, causing grease to burst free of the casing. “Now this is just how I pictured it,” she said. “A civilized breakfast on the edge of civilization. Perfect sunlight, a romantic ruin, and delightful company.” She picked up her OJ and held out the glass. “Cheers.”
“Cheers,” I said, clinking my glass with hers. My unease hadn’t gone away, but the pull of the sausages was strong, so I set my qualms aside and dug in.
We didn’t talk for perhaps five minutes. Brianna appeared to take just as much pleasure from watching me devour my food as from her own. When I finally lowered my silverware and sat back she smiled at me once more, flute of orange juice held up in one hand, elbow resting on an arm tucked across her stomach.
“Thanks,” I said. “That was unexpectedly delicious.”
“As long as we don’t lose the Everypack, we’ll always dine in equal style. Now. I see you’re wearing the items I brought you. What do you think?”
“Think?” I held out my hand to stare at the rings, then dropped it in my lap. I couldn’t help but match her grin. “I’m blown away, and I don’t know what half of them do.”
“Then let me elucidate. You’re wearing a Stone Cloak. As long as it’s charged with mana you can command it to petrify, repulsing most physical and even some magical attacks. The command word is ‘petrify’, obviously enough, but you can change it to whatever you want.”
“Awesome,” I said. “And I charge it by just willing a point of mana into its fabric?”
“Sure. But it can take up to ten mana and will hold them until used. Just think about how many points you want to expend at a time and it’ll offer more or less protection, depending.”
“Which normally would make me laugh, but with this mana ring? Twenty mana? Fully charged? That’s crazy!”
“Yeah,” she said, giving me a feline smile of contentment. “Not a bad little ring. Again, it’ll hold your charge until you use it, then you’ll have to fill it up whenever you’ve got extra mana to spare. Given how much trouble we’re going to be getting into, I imagine you won’t have a lot of downtime with which to fuel it, so, you know. Be smart.”
“Not my first rodeo,” I said. “And this ring? Armor?”
“Yep. Mostly against physical attacks, though, so don’t expect it to stop blasts of fire or whatever. But blades, arrows, clubs – most of them will find their damage greatly reduced if not blocked altogether, dependent of course on the power of your attacker.”
“Great. And this bull ring?”
“Ring of the Bull, you mean.” She lowered her empty flute into the basket. When she pulled it back out it was filled with more orange juice. “Mimosa,” she said. “Want one?”
“No, thanks.”
She gave an indolent shrug. “Suit yourself. Anyways, that’ll unleash a blast of force in a cone before you, out to a distance of fifteen feet. Enough to knock down doors and send opponents flying. It doesn’t take mana, but has an annoyingly long cooldown period. You’ll probably only get to use it once a fight.”
“Cool. How do I activate it?”
“I think the current power word is ‘Blammo’.” The corner of her lips tugged up in amusement. “You can change it by thinking the power word then choosing a new one. It’ll detect your intention.”
“I don’t know, I might keep the current version.” I ran a finger over the stylized bull’s head. “Has a certain charm to it.”
She gave me her sinuous one-shouldered shrug again. “Your call.”
“And this amulet?”
“Periapt, actually. Quick healing. Not like a troll’s regeneration, or anything, but it should halve the amount of time it takes for you to recover from wounds. It’s true power, however, comes into play if you ever take enough damage to die, upon which it’ll shatter and heal you back up to full.”
“Nice,” I said, studying the blue gem.
“Nice? You have no idea how much that cost. You can only get one if you complete a level thirty quest that takes almost two weeks. Nice doesn’t even begin to cover it.”
“Really nice, then. Thank you. And this belt is awesome, too. Plus four dex?”
“Yeah, I thought you’d enjoy the Belt of Shadow Form. But that’s just its secondary power. Its true worth lies in its ability to turn you into a living shadow. The effect only lasts for about ten seconds, but you’re basically immaterial and impossible to hurt during that time. I mean, there are ways to get around it if your opponent is powerful enough, but it’s still pretty broken. All you need do is charge it with mana, and when you need it simply evoke its effect with your thoughts.”
“Damn.” I shrugged. “I mean, I’m running out of words here. Thanks. Again.”
“No problem. Hopefully all this will help you to forgive me in the long run.”
“If there is a long run. Even with this crazy gear, we’re still in trouble. Have you ever heard of the Beggars of Solomon?”
Brianna made a face. “Yeah. They were one of the up-and-coming cohorts behind my own team. Versatile, powerful, and led by an indiscriminate asshole who calls himself Vanatos.”
“That sounds about right,” I said. “They’ve accepted a job offer from an NPC Dread Lord, and showed up yesterday to both claim the castle and explore the dungeons beneath it.”
“Like I said, indiscriminate. They’ll take on any job, no matter how depraved. What are they looking for?”
So I told her. Everything Guthorios had told us, about Jeramy, about the weirdness in having Albertus take such a direct hand in these events. When I was done I sat back, coffee in hand.
“Huh.” She ran a finger around the rim of her mimosa flute. “I’ve never heard of a quest like it. Sounds like this Jeramy messed enough with the Euphoria system that he attracted Albertus’ spam hammer.”
“I think it’s more than that,” I said. “I mean, from what Guthorios told us, Albertus took Jeramy out. Who was able to cast a ward that could keep the AI himself out of his own dungeons?”
Brianna waved a hand. “You’re assuming Guthorios told you the truth here. That all sounds really far-fetched. My guess is that Albertus put together this quest to see how
we’d react to a slightly weirder setup. Something that sounds like it’s getting out of control but really isn’t, you know? A test.”
“Yeah, maybe.” I sipped my coffee. It was so weird to be having this discussion over the remnants of brunch. “But a lot of stuff doesn’t add up.”
“I’m sure it will in time. Look, when you step back, it’s all just a really elaborate story to get you to explore a new and spooky dungeon beneath a castle. I’ve done that a hundred times, and it’s actually pretty refreshing to get a new take on the most common quest in the world. Archmagi, Dread Lords, Albertus Magnus himself – pretty cool setup. What we should really be talking about is how to take out the Beggars.”
“Say you’re right. How do we take them out? They’re all in the upper twenties. I’m level eleven. You’re, what, level one?”
“Two,” she said with a smirk. “Those grimwolvens outside gave me a nice XP bump before breakfast. I’d forgotten how quickly you level up at the start.”
“My point still stands. We’re going to have to be extra careful and lucky to take down the Beggars.”
“True.” She tapped her lips. “And Vanatos is no fool.”
“What is he?” It was something that had been bothering me ever since the fight. “He never actually did anything.”
“Summoner,” said Brianna. “And his daemon is pretty damn powerful. You know about summoners? Daemons?”
“No,” I said, trying for patience. “You were supposed to give me all those tutorials, remember?”
“Yes, yes, water under the bridge. A summoner doesn’t actually fight or wield power directly, but rather summons a daemon to do his fighting for him. The more powerful and talented the summoner, the more lethal his daemon. Vanatos’ daemon looks like a really freaky angel. I saw it once in a city-wide quest. It flies, heals wounds ridiculously fast, and throws these weird sunbolts by aligning lenses that are stitched into the ends of all these white scarves it wears. I was actually pretty impressed at the time. It’ll line up the lenses, refracting sunlight or torchlight or whatever, and then blast a ray of concentrated energy that can cut through stone. Pretty vicious.”
“Great,” I said. “Sounds lovely. But it needs light to work?”
“Moonlight, candlelight, yeah, any kind of illumination. The stronger the light, the deadlier its blasts.”
“Well, that makes me extra happy to be a darkblade,” I said, feeling a little more cheerful. “Nothing a Night Shroud can’t take care of.”
“Don’t be too cocky,” she said. “It’s pretty smart. Next is Balthus, his second-in-command. Big guy, ornamental mask? He’s rocking a classic inquisitor build, specializing in buffs and debuffs. He can drop ongoing effects on both his friends and enemies, with stuff like healing, armor, or even freezing an enemy in place. Inquisitors are usually overlooked in combat, as they’re not often dealing out the hurt, but they can easily tip the tide of battle in their team’s favor if not taken out early. Ignore them too long and you’ll find yourself cursed and slowed down, your armor stripped away while your enemies have been buffed up like crazy.”
“Yeah, he was doing just that in our fight,” I said. “Though it wasn’t much of a fight. We got our asses handed to us. What about Delphina?”
“I love Delphina,” said Brianna with a smile. “She’s my kind of crazy.” Which didn’t make me feel any better about having brunch with Brianna. “She plays a witch, and used to be part of the Swamp Queens until they were destroyed in the Immolation. Witches specialize in twisting shit up. Hallucinations, your ability to stay awake, understand language, filling you with terror. Like Balthus, she’s not a front-line fighter, but she can take people out pretty effectively by neutralizing them from the sidelines.”
“We were able to hold her off,” I said, not sure if I should feel proud of that accomplishment. “Falkon, Michaela and me. We had her running till the others stepped in.”
Brianna shrugged. “Like I said, she’s not built for the front lines. In a real fight she’d fade into the background and mess you up from a distance.”
“Thanks,” I said.
“What? Now, if you’d told me you’d gone toe-to-toe with Lagash I’d be impressed. She’s probably the most powerful one of the group. And she doesn’t fit in with their style, either, which is weird. I think Vanatos has something on her and is forcing her to serve him. Either way, she’s a straight fighter. She’s famous for taking down the Quartz Man solo, and people say she held the Dismal Gate while everyone else fled, but I don’t believe that. She’s good, but she’s not that good.”
“So, what, we just avoid her in a fight?”
“Yeah, if you can. She’s built like an ox and as strong as… I don’t know, an elephant? Her player’s really taken the orc warrior thing to heart and gone all out with her physical stats. I’ve heard some guys find her weirdly hot, but I don’t get it at all. I think she looks more like an animal than anything else.”
I realized Brianna was watching me carefully. Waiting to see if I agreed? I moved on. “Last one’s the guy with the fire hands.”
“Yeah, Makarios. He’s a real bastard. He’s done some really nasty shit to other PCs, got a reputation for torture and abuse. I’ve heard he likes to capture new players and break them. If he wasn’t protected by being a member of the Beggars I’m sure he’d have been taken out by now. But he’s a battlemage specializing in fire and lava. His claws can tear through metal, and he’s apparently got some pretty frightening area of effect spells.”
“I saw one. He filled the air with stationary bolts of fire. Like a web.”
Brianna nodded. “Sounds right. So the way they fight is Makarios, Lagash, and Vanatos’ daemon wade into the front lines while Balthus and Delphina provide support from the rear. They’ve got a bigger rep than they should for their level, and I think it’s cause of Vanatos’ leadership. They hit well above their paygrade. My team could have taken them down, but it would have been a nasty fight.”
“All right. So they’re in the castle. How do we defeat them?”
“Well… hear me out here.” She toyed with her flute, waggling it slowly back and forth between her fingers. “Why exactly do we have to fight the Beggars? We’re both in Death March mode. And while we’re now equipped with some respectable gear, we’re nowhere close to being able to take on the Beggars. No, wait. What I’m saying is, why not strike out by ourselves? A month’s adventures will see us arriving at New Haven on the Amargo River. We can catch a boat from there and sail all the way down to the sea.”
“Because,” I said, speaking slowly and clearly, “I won’t abandon my friends.”
“Friends? I don’t mean to be rude, but how long have you known these people? A week? Are you telling me you’ll risk literal death for them?”
“They’re good people,” I said. “I won’t abandon them.”
“Are they in Death March mode?”
I wanted to lie. “No.”
“So worst-case scenario, they respawn in the highland meadow and strike off on their own, or quit their avatars and start fresh somewhere else. Hardly an end-of-days scenario.” Her gentle disapproval was a palpable force. “So remind me again why you’re willing to risk everything on a suicide mission to help people you don’t really know and who don’t really need your help?”
I set my coffee down and stared at my hands. Brianna had always been exceedingly talented at warping my every argument and stance into something faintly ridiculous. It was like her superpower. But she didn’t know about Lotharia. “Because they trusted me. They fought for me. They’re my friends. And while they’re not putting as much in play as I am, I don’t want to be the kind of person who walks away from my friends when they need me.”
“Chris.” Brianna’s tone was frank, her gaze direct. “Euphoria is just a game.”
Again, I struggled to refute her position. She was right. Euphor
ia was just a game. But I in turn was the sum of my actions. And Euphoria felt real enough that I couldn’t allow myself to act like a sociopath. Emotionally, I was on the hook. I gave Brianna a wry smile. “What can I say? Albertus Magnus has done a good job. I’m taking this stuff seriously. I’m taking responsibility for my actions. My friend Falkon postulated that Albertus was watching the players to learn about humanity, and was paying extra special attention to Death Marchers. So if you can’t accept my own morality as reason to stay, then think of this: how we act in Euphoria will influence the world’s greatest power in how it understands and treats humanity. And I won’t give up on my responsibility to myself and everyone else by acting like a selfish ass.”
Brianna shook her head slowly in pitying astonishment, then tossed back the rest of her mimosa and dropped the glass in the basket. “You always were such an idealistic fool, Chris. I have to admit, it’s part of your charm. That naive intensity. But I know you well enough to know you won’t be convinced to do otherwise, so that’s that. I won’t abandon you, and you won’t abandon these ‘friends’ of yours. So we’d best get to planning.”
“Yes,” I said, swallowing my annoyance. Her radiant smile made it all the easier. “Let’s.”
10
The hardest part was waiting till dusk. No way was I going to tangle with the Beggars of Solomon in the light of day. Nor did I particularly want to spend time hanging out with Brianna in the longhouse, no matter how good the treats from the Everypack were or how luscious her lips. Instead, I spent my time working on my meditation techniques, exploring the various abilities of my gear, and cautiously exploring the environs around the castle. I’d not spent much time outside its walls, so I carefully made my way around it, discovering numerous cave systems, a small and incredibly beautiful hidden waterfall and various lairs I chose to back away from.
The sun was dipping toward the horizon when I ran into the Green Liver goblins. The three of them were hunched miserably on a rocky ledge that overlooked the castle. I spotted them through the scree that separated them from the narrow defile I was descending, and called out so as not to surprise them.
