“I’d have to say Iraq. But I’ve seen enough people die there that I don’t really have any fucking desire to go back.”
The people around him stared silently.
Derek stood up. “You’ll have to excuse me, please—my drink is empty. Catch you later.” He gave Roger a quick nod and went back into the house.
13
The Town of Silverton, Armchair Safari.
Gryphon Café was an old, two-story tavern built from dirty granite blocks, topped by a heavy timber roof that was angled so sharply it added an additional twenty feet of height to the building. Very few patrons were at any of the tables when Megan entered. That was not surprising. It was during these business hours when the inhabitants of Silverton were still trying to make a living.
Megan walked past the great stone hearth at end of the room and followed the instructions in the envelope that Jerome had given her. She went up to the bar. A burly barkeep with a massive head of black curly hair sized her up.
“What do you want, lassie?”
“Give me a Mine Shaft,” Megan replied. She had no idea what sort of drink that was, but it had been instructed in the letter. She sat on a stool and waited.
The barkeep gave her a curious look, then glanced over his shoulder at a group of men seated in a booth on the other wall. “It’ll take me a wee bit o’ time to whip one of those up, lassie, so make yourself comfortable.”
Megan waited and studied the tapestries flanking the nearest fireplace. About a minute later, she felt a tap on her shoulder.
“Excuse me. Are you Megan?”
Megan turned and saw a large, muscular man wearing a breast plate and chain sleeves that did not make it past his bulging deltoids. A maroon dragon was painted on the armor. His head was shaved and he looked intense. Megan desperately hoped this would be a friendly meeting and not turn into combat.
“Yes, I’m Megan.” Then she added, “Maybe.”
Instantly, the warrior smiled. “Excellent. My name is Kalam, Knight of the Red. I’m the one who sent Jerome. I actually didn’t expect him to find you so quickly, so I must apologize that all of us are not here yet. Please, will you come join our table?”
Megan glanced at the man’s gesture and saw a booth over in the corner. There were two other men sitting there, enjoying their ale and watching her curiously. Megan walked across the great room with Kalam and sat gingerly on the outside edge of the seat, ready to flee at the first sign of danger. She was not used to this kind of attention.
“Gentlemen, this is Megan the Thief,” Kalam said. “Megan, may I introduce two of my associates, Boris the Destroyer, and Sameer, Master of the Elements.”
Megan studied each of them. Boris was a Northern Barbarian from the look of him. He was even larger than Kalam, with a chin beard, slanted brown eyes, and a great, fur-lined battle cap with ivory horns protruding from the sides. Sameer was the polar opposite in appearance. Small and bald, with round glasses and a full mustache, the little man looked like Gandhi. Megan could sense that he had great power about him, however, and there was confidence in his eyes as he smiled pleasantly back at her. Megan knew he was a wizard.
“Nice to meet you,” Megan said. “What can I do for you?”
Kalam nodded. “My associates and I are adventurers like yourself, and we are seeking to undertake a great expedition that will require the services of one particularly skilled in the thieving arts.”
“Okay. Why me? How do you even know who I am?”
“Why, your reputation precedes you. It’s not every day that someone successfully raids a stronghold like that of Hutto, Lord of the Haagenan. News like that travels fast.”
“You did that? You?” Boris’s face changed from stoicism to wonder. With an awkward motion, he leaned over and peeked under the table.
“What are you doing?” asked Sameer.
“I’m sorry. I’ve just never seen a woman with giant brass balls before.” He sat back up. “Hutto, eh? Well done!”
Megan felt a flush of embarrassment. It was an unfamiliar feeling for her, being praised. She liked it.
The small wizard leaned forward. “Hutto is well known in these parts as being a fearsome and invincible opponent. How did you pull off that raid?”
Megan related some general details of her last adventure. She did not mention the Portable Hole or any of her trade secrets. There were some things that others were simply not to know. By the time she was finished, the three men at the table were enraptured with her tale of daring. It was as if she had just related the greatest story ever told.
“Impressive,” said Boris, pounding the table. “I heard that the sudden drop in wealth from your little heist so weakened Hutto on a faraway battlefield that he was slain in combat. And Hutto was known for killing, not being killed. Serves the bastard right for all the adventurers he’s eradicated. Well done!”
Megan tried not to let the flattery go to her head. “So what is this expedition about? Who are we going after?”
The three faces at the table quickly took on a more serious look. Kalam spoke in a low voice. “It is about treasure. A huge amount of treasure, enough to make us all very wealthy. But it will be difficult to obtain, and we can’t really discuss it here in public. So before we go any further, you must swear absolute secrecy on anything related to this matter, on pain of death. Break our trust from this point on and my associates and I will hunt you down and kill you.”
“Sounds serious,” Megan said with some levity.
Three sets of eyes stared back at her without as much as a blink.
She shrugged. Why not go for it? It sounded big. “Sure, I’m in.”
The bald warrior smiled. “Excellent! We shall proceed with the next steps and reconvene at midnight tomorrow at the Horseshoe Tavern, east of here down Shale Road. I will arrange a private room for the discussion. Boris, will you make sure that Haas and Father Corman are advised of our meeting schedule?”
“Consider it done, Kalam.”
“Perfect. Don’t be late as we have a lot to cover. When you arrive at the tavern, go to the barkeep and use the code phrase. I will see you then.”
As Sameer and Boris started to shuffle out the other side of the booth, Megan found herself in a momentary panic. “Wait, another code phrase? What is it?”
Sameer put his hand on her shoulder in reassurance. “It’s simple, Megan. Just order a Mine Shaft.”
The Horseshoe Tavern was very different than Megan’s last rendezvous. It was packed. Megan silently repressed the urge to cut a purse or two and threaded her way to the barkeep to order her drink. The man nodded silently for her to come with him and Megan followed him through an interior door that shut out the noise in the main room. They were now standing in a hallway that extended a good fifty feet ahead of them.
A flimsy open door on the right revealed a bed shoved into a smallish room. So, the Horseshoe Tavern doubled as the brothel. Disgusting.
What Megan didn’t expect was for the barkeep to shove her into the bedroom and hold a dagger to her throat.
“Draw your weapon and you die,” he commanded.
What the—? Was she about to be raped? In a video game?
“What is the name of your party’s leader?” the barkeep grunted in a low voice. His hands did not accost her, save the one that held the dagger against her neck.
Megan blinked twice in surprise. Then, on impulse, she answered. “Kalam.”
“Is the mage in your party a man or a woman?”
“A man. His name is Sameer.”
What are the names of the party members whom you have not yet met?”
Megan understood now what was happening. This was a secret meeting she was going to, and the barkeep was intent on making sure that only authorized attendees were admitted.
“Haas. And... Corman, I think. Father Corman.”
The barkeep released the knife from her throat at once and took a step back. “Very good. Come with me.”
“Don’t I even ge
t an apology?”
The barkeep gave her a dirty look before proceeding out into the hall. I guess not.
They went down the hall to a door that looked indistinguishable from any other. With a great fist, the barkeep banged on the wood twice, paused, then banged twice again. Megan could hear a locking mechanism being opened.
Kalam’s face appeared in an open crack before he quickly opened the door and motioned her to join them. This room was set up not as a bedchamber but as a meeting room, with a large, rectangular table in the middle and six chairs around the edges. Megan received warm smiles from Boris and Sameer, both of whom were lounging on the far side of the table. Two men Megan didn’t recognize sat on the ends.
“Everyone, please welcome our accomplished thief, Megan. Megan, you already know Boris and Sameer. Let me introduce you to our other companions. First, there is Father Corman, our priest. Every party needs a healer, even more so when you’re headed into the wilderness. Luckily, Father Corman works for a living in addition to healing. Isn’t that right?”
The priest, who had closely cropped gray hair and a well-trimmed beard, patted a wicked-looking mace leaning against his leg. “Yes, there are a lot of heathens who need to be sent to the afterlife.”
“Indeed. And this, over here,” Kalam said as he waved to the other end of the table, “is Haas, our ranger. He will be navigating us through the wild, and he is deadly with a longbow.”
Across the oak table sat a medium-sized man with jet-black hair. His pale blue eyes were intently locked on Megan. His face was expressionless, neither smiling nor showing a hint of ill will, but Megan found herself uncomfortable under his gaze. He was wearing a black breastplate with tinges of faded red paint around the edges, and his sword and longbow leaned against the wall behind him. Megan gave him a nod. Haas did not respond.
“So,” Kalam continued, “we have business to cover. Now, everything said in this room is of the utmost secrecy and must not be discussed outside of this group. Agreed?”
Six voices replied as one. “Agreed.”
“Good. As of now, we are entering a binding contract with each other. Sameer will keep the minutes of our discussions. Let us go around the room and state our names for the record. I am Kalam, a fighter.”
“Megan, a thief.”
“Father Corman, a priest.”
“Sameer, a wizard.”
“Boris, a barbarian.”
“Haas, a ranger.”
“What god allows thee to enter this life and seek the riches that we all are questing for, with no fear of the evils of latency or unreliable connection? For myself, PC.”
Megan winced at the fantasy hokum. “A PC for me.”
“Playstation.”
“PC.”
“PC.”
“Xbox.”
“And do we all agree to be active in our participation with this quest, to not allow others to do the work that should be our rightful portion, upon penalty of forfeiture of all gains from this journey, as judged by the group?”
Again, six voices said, “Agree.”
Kalam leaned back in his chair and took a deep breath. “Then let’s begin.”
Five sets of eyes stared intently at the bald warrior, their new leader.
“About one month ago, I came into some information of a distant fortress far away to the south. Legend has it that this fortress was left over from the creation of the world, back to the time of Beta, when the ancients roamed the land in their quests for war and destruction to test the mettle of the universe. The aftermath of such a rampage left little more than a wasteland, of course. Titanic magics and powerful relics that utilized technologies unknown to us in this day, all designed for the purpose of annihilation, were commonplace and employed with great endeavor. The world was abused and broken. But some vestiges of the ancients were not destroyed. Some. A few remote reminders still exist, and this fortress of which I speak is one landmark that was not wiped clean before the modern age in which we live began to unfold.”
Megan rolled her eyes at the way that Kalam took such mundane, real-world details and wove them into a fantasy narrative.
The warrior spread a large cloth map on the table. Megan saw a drawing of the known world executed in exquisite detail, fine brush strokes illustrating the coastlines and mountains, the rivers and roads. But when he pointed a massive finger at the middle of the Southern Ocean, Megan wondered if a fool and his money were soon parted.
“Are we going swimming?” Boris asked casually.
“Modern map makers have no idea what exists down there, my friend. But this is where the horde of treasure lay. Millions of crowns. That is what we are after.”
Millions? Had Megan heard correctly?
“That’s preposterous,” said Father Corman. “How could such a horde exist? No one in their right mind would pile up that much money in a Safari account.”
“Oh, it exists,” Kalam replied, pacing. “I have very good information from people who have seen it. But it’s one thing to know it’s there, another to extract it. That is where we all come in.”
Boris shook his head. “Forgive me if I’m skeptical. I don’t know if I believe you.”
“Then leave,” Kalam said simply.
Megan watched the wheels turning underneath the huge barbarian’s fur-lined helmet. Her own mind was racing, too. Millions of crowns. The exchange rate into dollars was typically around 10-to-1, so they were looking at hundreds of thousands of dollars, split six ways. That was a lot of money. Kalam spoke in such an overdone, dramatic way that came across like a Shakespearean actor, but he could obviously afford good armor and weapons and appeared to be no slouch at adventuring. Maybe his sources were solid. But why would so much money be left on a Beta server?
“That’s a long way to go if there’s nothing there,” Boris said finally. “My time is not free. I could be making a living in these parts instead of chasing some wild goose and going broke.”
“Every reward carries some risk with it. Might I remind you that I am in the same boat as you?”
Boris gave Kalam a long, hard stare. Finally, he nodded. “I have adventured with you before, Kalam, and while I question your information, I do trust your judgment. I will go with you.”
“Good.” Kalam looked around the room as paced. “Does anyone else have objections? Megan?”
Why had he singled her out? Was it because she was the newest to the group?
Megan cleared her throat. “You have to admit, Kalam, it sounds kind of fantastical. Who on earth would be crazy enough to put that much money into their stronghold? Like Boris said, it’s just crazy.”
“That is a good question. Let me ask you something. How much money did you make when you robbed Hutto the other week?”
The blood drained from her face. “None of your business, pal.”
“But it was sizeable, yes?”
Pause. “Yes.”
“Of course. See, there are many players that put a lot of cash into their accounts. Just like Hutto. This opportunity is not any different. The money belongs to some people intent on using the advantages of a large account balance to further their adventuring. That makes their treasure fair game. The fact that they are trying to be sneaky by hiding it so well only makes it more so.”
Millions of crowns of pooled treasure.
Megan had to admit she was intrigued. “Okay. Let’s at least hear the rest, then.”
“Very well. Here are the terms. Silverton is to be our base of operations, since most of us have our strongholds somewhere nearby. Upon returning to Silverton with the treasure in tow, we will divide the total into seven shares. I will take two shares as the organizer of the quest. Everyone else receives one.
“Now: penalties. Anyone who quits the party at any time forfeits their share. Anyone who is killed before we physically take possession of the treasure likewise loses out. Anyone who dies after we take possession will retain their share for when they respawn and meet us back in Silverton. We will
have no turncoats or fratricide once the hard work is done. However, the size of the share will be reduced by one-quarter due to the increased burden on the surviving members of the party. No monies may be withdrawn by individual members of the party prior to the quest’s completion back here in town.”
This was getting exciting. Megan the Student was grinning like an idiot. Such a haul would take care of so many things. Tuition—check. Rent—covered. Gas—no problem. That alone was worth the gamble.
When there were no questions, Kalam wrapped up. “We will allow one day for everyone to get their affairs in order, so plan to meet back here the day after tomorrow. We will disembark early morning.”
Everyone stood up and shook hands merrily, with clasps on the shoulder and excitement building by the minute. Everyone except Haas. The odd ranger went through the motions but never once broke a smile, and regardless of whom he was speaking with, he seemed to spend such an inordinate amount of time watching Megan that it made the hair on the back of her neck stand up.
14
The party left Silverton through Morning Gate, the easternmost entryway into the walled mining city. They had everything they would need for a wilderness expedition: water skins and smoke-dried meat, blankets, pup tents, flint boxes for starting campfires, and maps covering at least parts of the area through which they would be traveling. The planned route was long and winding but eventually would take them to the port city of Bangor, where the plan was to charter a sailing ship that would take the party to the location he had disclosed on his charts at the Horseshoe Tavern.
The journey to the coast was expected to take a month of traveling. That part really sucked.
Megan was not happy about eliminating her income while she spent weeks hoofing it through the wilderness. There was no concept of Fast Travel in Armchair Safari, no way for instantaneously moving from one location to another to avoid tedium like in so many other adventure games. The tedium here was deliberate. It helped make sure that thieves did not steal so much that they could not get it home safely, and it encouraged adventurers who had been robbed to give chase to those who had done the robbing.
Armchair Safari (A Cybercrime Technothriller) Page 13
