by J D Astra
“Where’s Arcona?” My voice was dry and raspy.
“The war room. Where’s Otto, or the Murk Elf? He was supposed to bring Eisen back hours ago.” The Risi woman growled, holding the axe up as if to threaten me.
“They didn’t make it back?” I looked between them as they shook their heads.
I closed my eyes and let my hand fall to the floor.
They didn’t make it.
He didn’t make it.
Rebels in Need
I STEPPED UP TO THE door and Cait, the Risi woman who “escorted” me, gave me a shove. I turned the handle to the war room but it refused to budge. “If she was expecting me, why is it locked?” I grumbled to Cait as I glared over my shoulder at her.
The door creaked as it flew open. My head jerked back to the opening and Arcona’s navel met me. I looked up to see an expression I didn’t think I’d ever seen before. It was something like fury, mixed with bloodlust, and anguish.
“You,” she snarled as she lifted me from the ground. She tossed me like a rag doll, and I bounced into the room. My bones felt like they’d shattered, and my chest refused to pull in air. The room spun as my eyes crossed, refusing to focus on anything.
“How dare you come back here?” she asked as she slammed the door.
I wheezed. “I respawned here. Otto”—I paused to gasp for air—“and I were captured.”
“So then where’s Otto?” Arcona demanded, a twinge of sadness in her voice. I shook my head as a wracking cough overcame me.
“Dead?” she barked, her voice sounding as if at any moment she could burst into tears.
“I don’t know, but it is very likely.” I crawled to the wall and leaned against it as I panted.
The room was not elegant, or flashy. It was utilitarian, organized, and dark. It was at least three times as deep as it was wide, with a large wood-and-stone table at the center surrounded by twenty-some-odd chairs. Maps adorned the dirt walls, and chandeliers hung low over the four quarters of the table.
“How did you die?” She had calmed a degree or two. With three massive strides, she passed me and sat at the table.
“Otto stabbed me through the heart.”
“Liar!” she spat, her white-knuckled fists pressing against her knees.
“He saved me.” I swallowed hard to wet my aching throat. “He did it to save me.”
“Why?” The chair flew back as she jumped to her feet. “Why save you? Why would he bother?”
“The Bindings Book. I have it.” I opened my inventory and scrolled to the quest items section.
There was a red, blinking 7 on my messages tab, and I gasped. I changed views to my messages and looked at the heading of the one at the top. “A Proposition.” It was from Sandra.
“Well!” Arcona kicked my boot, sending shocks of pain up my leg to my butt.
I snapped my menu closed and shouted back at her, “I have a message from the captor!”
Her jaw tightened. “What does it say?”
“I don’t know yet, you kicked me.” I crossed my arms and sneered, “May I?”
Arcona’s lip curled back and she turned away with a snort. I opened the menu, noticing I had six messages from Jack titled “Important” or “Please Read.” I loved that he was trying to stay in contact, and my heart melted for a moment before I remembered the crisis at hand. They’d all have to wait. I selected the top message, the one from Sandra.
<<<>>>
Personal Message
Looks like I gave up a pair of Aces for Three of a Kind. If you want to see your NPC friends alive, come to the war district with the Faction Seal. If not, I’ll go visit your confidant to retrieve it. Don’t think because I’m trapped in the game I can’t figure out who they are. I will, and I will not be kind when I take it from them.
Be at the Champion’s Statue before 12 PM if you don’t want to see Mr. Staldain, Mr. Mungal, or your Dokkalfar diced and sprinkled around the wharf as chum.
—Sandra
<<<>>>
“He’s alive,” I whispered in disbelief as I read the message again. More importantly, the use of the word “them” in her message. She didn’t know the gender, and therefore was not any closer to finding out Jack was holding the seal.
“What?” Arcona barked, and I shuddered at the sound.
I swapped over to my inventory and grabbed the Bindings Book. The fat book plopped into my lap, and I closed the menu. “Here it is.” I tried to offer her the book, but my arms shook and gave out as I lifted it.
She snatched the book up and it disappeared from her hands a fraction of a second later. I waited. No quest update? What the hell, was that not it? I scooted my way up the wall and walked toward the closest chair.
“I’ve completed your quest,” I declared, hoping the NPC was prepared to hear something like this and know how to respond.
“No. You completed half the quest. Renzik and Eisen did not return. Not only have you put our home in jeopardy, but the homes of so many other rebel groups that Eisen has worked with. He’s made portal wards for dozens of groups in New Viridia and Glome Corrie.” She paused and snapped the axe from the holster at her back. “We’re already under evacuation, seeking a new home, and the rest are sure to follow suit. You’ve destroyed the rebellion.”
I held my open palm five feet from her face. “I hope you have high fire resistance. Plus, you don’t want to kill me if you would like Otto and Eisen to survive.”
She bared her teeth and lowered the axe a hair.
I went on, “Sandra, Osmark’s right hand, she has them all. Eisen, Renzik, and Otto. Alive, or so she claims. She wants me to bring her the Faction Seal.” I dropped my hand, but kept the Inferno Blast spell at the tip of my mind.
“You would trade an item of that power for three men’s lives? You’re weak.”
He makes me weak. I remembered my thoughts from just days ago, and I knew they were a lie. Otto didn’t make me weak. My friends didn’t make me weak. They made me smarter, they made me kinder, they made me stronger, and they made me fight harder. I wanted them to live, free and prosperously, and I would do anything to make that happen.
“I’m not weak or stupid. Otto would be dead before I could collect the Faction Seal from my friend, and there are no other items like it that don’t already have owners, at least that I know of. We can’t allow them to keep Eisen, you’ve made that clear, and I want my damn friends back, so that’s what we’re going to do.”
Her frown deepened. “And how in the seven hells do you plan to do that?”
My mind churned away at everything that had happened in the last few days, every bit of information my bruised and half-defunct faculties could produce.
I smirked. “Stop the evacuations. We’re going to need everyone who’s anyone in here, now.”
Chaos Preparations
“TALK TO ME, JEANETTE,” I yelled over the chatter in the war room as I shuffled through Alaunhylles district maps. “How’s the distraction coming?”
“Eighty percent of the way there!” she replied, a hint of satisfaction in her tone. This was the biggest operation the group had carried out in years. The Alaunhylles rebel faction had, I discovered, shifted from an active rebellion base to something more like a free people’s sanctuary. They still did topside missions, but they were all to secure more rations or pilfer survival items from the wealthy. Long had it been since they’d sown the seeds of chaos this widespread in the grand Hvitalfar kingdom.
I snatched up the “War District” map and rolled it up. “Great,” I said to her as I shimmied past busy strategists, all of them working on their own little plot for their district. “Did you find a rider?” I asked her as I tapped the map against my palm.
She nodded. “Nine-hour trip. If she departs in the next ten minutes, she should arrive just before noon. She’ll need to avoid flying over The Crossing, as it has a very active night sentry, which will add an hour to the journey.”
Just in the nick of time. “Excellent.
Let me see your pencil?” I pointed to the graphite stick in her breast pocket.
“Certainly,” she said with a raised brow.
She passed it to me and I went to work finding the target on the map. There it was, the Champion’s Statue. I circled it twice, rolled the map up tight, and tied it off with a bit of string. I produced the pre-written message from my inventory and handed both to Jeanette. “This could change everything. It must get there in time.”
She nodded and beat her chest with a closed fist. “We can do this.”
I put my hand on her shoulder and squeezed it once. “We will.”
“Abby!” Logan called from across the room. His little soot-covered face was alight with a tinkerer’s joy.
I took a few steps and met him as the door as Jeanette jogged out through it. “Status update?”
“It’s ready,” he said with a maniacal chuckle, exposing a missing front tooth.
“I’ll be back in fifteen,” I announced to the room, and few heads turned up to look. They were all focused on their specific tasks. Perfect.
Logan drummed his fingers together, a leer plastered to his face as we traversed the halls to the forge. “What’s that about?” I smirked as I scrubbed my hand over his shaggy red hair.
He laughed again, like some mad scientist. “You’ll see!”
“Alright,” I said as I broke into a jog. “I’ll race you!”
We giggled as we took off through the torchlit halls. It was busier than usual, with many people coming and going through the Great Room, everyone working to execute the strategists’ plans or send them back with adjustments. It reminded me of working at Osmark Technologies. Despite our boss’s dickish tendencies to take over, and the hellish crunch we had endured for a year before V.G.O. was ready, the company had been pretty great. The culture was collaborative, and open.
“I’m gonna win!” I charged through the last hallway after letting Logan get the lead.
He turned and looked at me. “Not fair, you have longer legs!” he said, a whine in his prepubescent voice.
“It’s an important lesson!” I shouted as I pushed myself a little harder. “Life is rarely fair, but we find a way to overcome it.”
“How can I overcome shortness?” he cried as the forge came into view.
I could hear the ting, ting, zing! of Lenny’s work and the whooshing of the bellows. My passive ability, Residual Heat, triggered, and I ran just a little faster.
Logan pushed himself even harder, grunting from the effort as he pulled ahead again. I didn’t let off, making him work for it so he’d feel proud when he won. Logan slid to a stop at the doorway and slapped the identifying plate with a, “Ha!”
There was a sheen of sweat on his broad, red-eyebrowed forehead. His blue eyes twinkled, and he grinned so innocently. I had thought about having my own children for a long time, and I was still on the fence about it. I’d never been able to give any boyfriend a straight answer, but this kid made me hopeful that one day, even if I just adopted an orphan like Logan, I’d be able to enjoy the laughter of my own sweet child.
“Nice work,” I said with a pant and held out my hand. “High five!”
Logan frowned at my gesture. “What?”
“Slap my hand.” I smiled.
He moved in to complete the high five when a gruff voice bellowed from inside the forge. “Don’t you dare strike that woman!” Lenny, always with the manners.
“But she said to,” Logan protested with a pinched brow.
“Time and a place for that, lad, and it’s not at the forge! Get in here,” he ordered, and I contained my chuckle.
He marched into his master’s workroom and ran to the bellow chains. In a single swift leap, he grabbed the chain several feet up and then climbed it to the top. He flipped upside down, planting his feet in a squat position on the ceiling, and then jumped with all his might. The chain started a slow descent, and the bellow whooshed a little faster. Logan jumped against the wall a few more times like a rappeller moving down a sheer cliff.
“Ms. Abby,” Lenny said with a warm depth to his voice. “I have what ye’ve asked for.”
“Let’s see if my memory served me well enough.” I smiled and shook his outstretched hand as he offered.
His brow pinched and his eyes lost focus as he pulled away. “I did make a few minor adjustments for you. But”—he shot me a wink as the disk popped into his hand—“all the same, it should work fine.”
I grabbed the bronze-colored disk the size of a small dinner plate and flipped it over in my hands. Shit. The man’s head was facing the other direction, and I didn’t think that tree had been so large. The words read just right, though: Imperatorius Factio Signum around the top edge, and Domini est Terra at the bottom.
“This looks great, Lenny, thank you. From across the room, no one will be able to tell the difference.” I smiled and his brow quirked up.
“Well,” he said as moved toward the forge, “I do believe it’s time we show ye the modification. Give’et ere, Abby.” He held out his hand and I tossed it back to him.
He spun and threw it into the embers of the forge.
“No!” I screamed and darted forward. White light, brighter than the sun, blasted my eyes. I moved to shield them, and a debuff notification appeared.
<<<>>>
Debuff Added
Blinded: You have been blinded by a magnesium fire! Experience 90% vision loss for 60 seconds, and minor vision impairment for 30 minutes.
<<<>>>
I gasped in pain, and another pop-up appeared in my vision.
<<<>>>
Debuff Added
Magnesium Smoke Poisoning: You have inhaled the smoke of a magnesium fire! Experience symptoms like nausea, fever, chills, muscle weakness and spasms, or lung capacity restriction. Symptoms may range from insignificant to severe.
Current debuff level: Minor
Duration: Up to 8 hours
<<<>>>
“Lenny! What the hell!” I fell back onto my butt, my arm wrapped securely over my eyes and nose.
“Oh my, I guess no one will be able to tell the difference once they get in close, either.” The sarcasm was thick in his tone. Damn sensitive artist type, guess it applies to all sorts of crafts.
I blinked hard, several times, but the giant black splotches that obscured almost everything remained in place. I could see a tiny amount in my periphery, but otherwise, just black. It was honestly a bit terrifying, but knowing I was in V.G.O. helped—I knew the debuff would end when the description said it would. I didn’t have to be afraid of permanently losing my sight or having it damaged.
“Why did you do that?” I asked as I grabbed my aching throat.
“Come’ere, let’s sit ye down on the bench.” Lenny’s voice drew close to me, and I felt warm hands grab under my arms.
“That’n was just a practice emblem,” he said as we walked toward... somewhere. The bench hopefully. I couldn’t see shit. “I’d worked in a rough shape, realized I’d made the cast for the man’s face backward, so I recast. That was part of what took so long.”
“He was too tired to remember his left from his right!” Logan jeered, and Lenny grumbled something under his breath.
He pushed my arms downward and I plopped onto a lumpy cushion. “What else took me so long was givin’ ye an edge with that magnesium coating. One spark from your spells, that’ll go up and blind anyone within ten feet of ya. Anyone within five feet’ll get that nasty magnesium smoke debuff.”
“It was my idea!” Logan shouted from my side.
I reached out a hand and patted him on the head. “You’re so smart!”
“Yes, and a wee devil, too,” Lenny chastised, and Logan giggled. “Get Ms. Abby the serum from my shelf.”
“Yes, sir.” Logan skipped off. There was some tinkling of bottles on the far wall, and then he returned.
“Thank ye, lad.” There was the sound of pouring, then dripping and shaking. “Alright, Ms. Abby, give it a drink.”
Lenny placed something into my hands, and I felt for the mouth of the cup.
“What is it?” I asked as I lifted it to my lips.
“Goblin blood!” Logan yelled.
Lenny replied with a quick, “Hush! It’ll take those magnesium smoke symptoms down to their lowest level.”
I took a whiff. “So is it Goblin blood or not?” I asked, and Lenny groaned.
“Just drink it, lass, we don’t ’ave all morning.” The cup tilted and liquid, bitter and warm, coated my lips. It was thick, and possibly Goblin blood. Yuck. I took the drink in two gulps and shivered as it oozed down my esophagus.
“Ew,” I said as I stuck out my tongue, and Logan sniggered.
“Well, I didn’t say it’d be mead! Whad’ye expect from medicine?” Lenny snatched the glass from my hand, and a new pop-up appeared in my vision letting me know the smoke inhalation symptoms had dropped to insignificant, and the debuff timer fell to two hours.
“Thank you, this is going to be perfect,” I said, reaching out for Lenny’s hand. He shook it, and I could finally see the outline of his face as the blindness ended.
“You’re very welcome, Ms. Abby. It was a pleasure to do somethin’ other than fixin’ up old swords and armor for once.”
“Alright,” I said as I blinked a few more times, “I need to get to a quick meal and strategy round table with Arcona.”
Lenny held out the real fake Faction Seal to me. “Yer going to need this.” I nodded, taking the much more accurate seal and flipping it over. It was indistinguishable from the real deal, or at least my account of the real deal after several days and a few deaths.
“May Asima be with you.” Lenny patted me on the arm and turned back to his forge. Logan gave me a shy little wave and ran back to the chain at the end of the wall to pump the bellows.
I rubbed my throat a few more times as I double-timed it back to the war room. Arcona wanted everyone to gather at 4 AM sharp, and I didn’t have a second I could lose to anything else. There was still so much to be done, and so little time.
