Evolution

by Travis Bagwell

  Jason’s breath came in ragged gasps, and he could still hear the shouts and growls of combat being waged around him. He took a breath and summoned his strength, shoving the dead wolf’s body off him and swiftly rolling out from under its weight. As he made it back to his feet, Jason finally had a chance to survey his friends’ progress.

  A decapitated wolf lay beside Frank. Two more of the huge beasts were growling at him and a third beginning to flank him from the side. Riley stood near the flock, another dead wolf lying near the edge of the forest with nearly a dozen arrows embedded in its neck and face. As Jason watched, Riley released another arrow. The bolt sped through the air and struck the neck of the wolf trying to flank Frank with a dull thump. The creature yelped in pain before retreating into the woods.

  Meanwhile, Eliza stood in the middle of the tiny flock, watching Frank swing wildly at the remaining two wolves to keep them at a distance. She took a breath, and her staff began to glow a brilliant pink. The sheep began to bleat frantically, their voices creating a crescendo of noise that echoed through the forest. A glowing pink aura enveloped the rest of the group, and a notice appeared in the corner of Jason’s vision.

  System Notice

  You are affected by the buff, Bleat of Battle. Your primary statistics have all been increased by 15% for the duration of the spell.

  Jason didn’t have time to ponder on the nature of the buff or appreciate more of the Hippie’s bad jokes. The two wolves facing off against Frank were growing frustrated and were preparing to lunge at the barbarian.

  Run! Jason mentally screamed at himself. He felt frozen, staring at the gaping maws of the two monstrous animals. He no longer had his dark mana to numb him to the tension of combat, and he felt… weak.

  “Jason, snap out of it!” Riley called from his side.

  At her shout, Jason slapped himself forcefully with his mailed gauntlet – shaving off a tiny sliver of his own health. He didn’t have time to be afraid. His friends were in danger. With a massive effort of will, he started moving, sprinting toward Frank. He raced past his burly friend, triggering Shield Bash and slamming his metal shield into one wolf’s head. A shower of blood erupted from the impact, and the wolf reeled from the blow. Frank followed up quickly, his two-handed sword descending in a massive strike that partially severed the wolf’s head. The creature promptly dropped to the ground with a dull thump.

  A thunderous growl sounded from beside Jason as the other wolf lunged forward. An arrow immediately embedded itself in the creature’s eye, throwing the wolf off course. Jason took the opportunity provided by Riley’s attack and used another Crushing Blow. His sword speared the wolf’s neck, sinking deeply into its flesh. A moment later, the monster slumped to the ground unmoving, and Jason’s blade slid free, crimson blood dripping from the metal.

  Silence once again descended upon the road, only interrupted by the gasping breaths of Jason and his teammates and the soft bleating of the sheep. Four of the giant corpses now littered the ground, and the flock was huddled against Eliza, their bodies shivering and their eyes still wide in fear as they stared at the dead wolves.

  “Our mighty heroes cheered, their exploits were sure to be revered,” the Hippie’s voice rang out across the forest. “Yet the clock was still ticking, and the group shouldn’t stand around… erm… dickering! The sun will soon be setting and lingering in this forest could be quite upsetting.”

  “That last one wasn’t exactly a rhyme,” Frank said sourly. “You basically used the same word twice.”

  “Well, it was close. Ever heard of a near rhyme?” the Hippie demanded. “Of course not! You haven’t honed your craft like Fluffy!”

  Frank just shook his head in irritation, cleaning his sword on the fur of one of the dead wolves. Jason looked at the corpses with a morose expression, wishing that he could raise the beasts. Unfortunately, the Hippie had removed that as an option.

  “We should probably move,” Jason suggested quietly, hearing more howls echoing in the distance. “His terrible rhyming aside, the Hippie’s message was sort of clear. At least one got away, and he might return with friends.”

  “Agreed,” Riley said. “Let me help you, Eliza,” she offered. The water mage was nearly buried in terrified sheep, and it took a few precious minutes to calm them down enough to get them moving again.

  The group opted for moving at a brisk jog to get out of the forest. With their new classes, they hadn’t fared well in that last encounter, and none of them were anxious to repeat the experience. As usual, Frank took point and scanned the woods carefully. Every time they heard an errant howl, they immediately dropped into a defensive formation and waited patiently for a few seconds before moving on.

  As they traveled, Jason’s thoughts wandered back to the battle. He had frozen during that last encounter. Frank and Riley had both easily taken out a wolf by themselves, and he had just barely killed one – and only after it had caught him by surprise and he dropped his weapon. He hated to admit it, but he was completely out of his element.

  Nearly thirty minutes later, the group emerged from the forest with the flock of sheep in tow. As they exited the tree line, they were confronted by blinding sunlight. The rays of light illuminated a town nestled between two picturesque mountains. Jason could only assume that this town was Griswald. Streamers of smoke drifted from the chimneys of several houses built of heavy stone and thick wooden planks. He could just make out townsfolk milling between the buildings.

  “I thought our director said it was almost night time,” Frank said, glancing up at the sky and covering his eyes with one hand. “It looks like it’s midday.”

  “Oh! My apologies,” the Hippie exclaimed, his voice booming from the clouds. “I read the notes wrong, Fluffy’s handwriting is terrible. Just give me a second.”

  At the sound of the god’s fingers snapping, the sun swiftly drifted toward the horizon. Suddenly, it was nearly dusk, the sun setting behind the mountain range framing the village. The town had also changed subtly, lanterns and torches abruptly appearing along the streets as the townsfolk stopped what they were doing and glanced around in confusion.

  “This is so weird,” Riley said, watching the rapid change.

  “No kidding,” Frank muttered. “But I guess we have no choice but to march into town with a bunch of sheep and find this guy in a white frock – whatever the hell that means.”

  As Riley and Frank started toward the town, Jason noticed that Eliza looked troubled, her gaze downcast and her brow furrowed in thought. “You okay?” Jason asked.

  The water mage looked up in surprise, appearing a bit startled. “Yeah… yeah, I’m fine,” she said. “It’s just…”

  Jason waited for Eliza to continue. Clearly something was troubling her.

  “I guess I just feel guilty.”

  “Guilty?” Jason echoed in surprise. “For what?”

  Eliza looked embarrassed, her eyes focused on the ground as they walked. “The Hippie forced me into this,” she muttered. “Back at the inn in Falcon’s Hook, I mean. He made me come on this quest with you and your friends, and now I’ve pulled you into his craziness.”

  Jason shook his head. He could only imagine what this game had been like for Eliza – spending weeks with the Hippie’s constant heckling and insanity. “You didn’t cause this. We were going to come to this temple anyway, and I suspect the Hippie would have been just as irritating if you weren’t here,” Jason assured her.

  “I’m not sure about that. I feel like something else is going on…” Eliza replied quietly. “The Hippie forced me to be his avatar and said his siblings were doing the same – mentioning some sort of competition. He knew about you too,” she said, glancing at Jason quickly. “But after meeting you and your friends… I don’t want to compete with you.”

  Jason watched her carefully. This was interesting. It appeared that the Hippie had been a little more talkative than the Old Man. “Did he explain why the gods are choosing avatars?”

  �
��Not really,” Eliza said, shaking her head in frustration. “He just complained about his siblings, and then it quickly devolved into his usual nonsense.”

  The pair lapsed into silence for a moment as Jason mulled on that. Something strange was going on with the gods in-game. Why would they all be choosing avatars? The Old Man had been a bit more circumspect in his explanations, but Jason had also gotten the impression that they were competing for something. Eliza’s admission now confirmed that. To make matters worse, his frequent visions weren’t exactly providing any more clarity.

  Yet none of that addressed the worried expression on Eliza’s face. She seemed conflicted and shy most of the time, but there were rare moments when she had opened up to Jason and his friends. He wasn’t certain that he really wanted to compete with her either.

  “Well, you are your own person and so am I,” Jason finally replied. “Which means we get to choose what we want to do – not some crazy god. If you don’t want to put up with his nonsense, then don’t. Honestly, I think Fluffy might be the only redeeming part of putting up with the Hippie anyway,” he added with a soft chuckle.

  Eliza smiled slightly, and Jason noticed that the black sheep stood up a little taller where he walked along beside them. “I guess,” Eliza replied. “Thanks for being so nice,” she added.

  “I’m not that nice,” Jason replied dryly. “How many people have we killed so far on this trip?”

  “You know what I mean,” Eliza said with a grin, finally meeting his eyes. “Thank you.”

  “Hey, hurry up!” Frank called from in front of them. They both looked over to Frank and Riley where they stood near the edge of the town.

  Jason and Eliza hurried to catch up with the rest of the group, the sheep grudgingly trotting to keep up with them. As they neared, Jason saw that Frank and Riley were speaking with a lanky man wearing a white apron. His long hair was bound in a ponytail behind his head, and a puffy, unkempt beard hung from his chin.

  When he caught sight of the sheep, the man exclaimed, “Finally! I’ve been waiting for you to arrive for weeks! Did all twelve make it in good shape?” he murmured as he began counting the sheep. They edged away from him nervously as he approached, their eyes wide and uncertain.

  “This is Rupert,” Riley explained to Jason. “Apparently, he is the man in the white frock that we are supposed to deliver the flock to – or sheep rather. I’m really getting tired of the rhyming by the way.”

  “Glad to make your acquaintance,” Rupert said, whirling and offering a hand. Jason was surprised by the man’s viselike grip and winced slightly as they shook hands. “Sorry about that,” Rupert commented with a grin as he noticed Jason’s expression. “A strong grip is a side effect of working in the kitchen day in and day out.”

  “Oh, and Rupert here is a cook,” Frank said, looking at Jason with a raised eyebrow.

  “Not just a cook,” Rupert snapped, sparing a glare for Frank and placing an indignant hand to his chest. “I am one of the very best chefs in Griswald.” He turned to face the flock. “And these beauties are intended for the local mayor’s upcoming feast.”

  The flock seemed to understand the man’s words, moving quickly away from the chef. Jason noted with interest that Fluffy was now standing directly behind Eliza and peering out from behind her dress. “So, I guess that means we’re done…” Jason began slowly.

  “Not quite,” Rupert interrupted. “This group looks a little skittish. Would you mind bringing them to my restaurant? It’s only a few minutes away.”

  “Not at all,” Jason replied in a cautious voice. The rest of his group were also eyeing the man skeptically. Something felt off about Rupert, but Jason couldn’t quite place his finger on it. “Why don’t you lead the way,” Jason offered.

  “Will do!” Rupert replied, before starting off at a brisk pace toward the interior of the town.

  “This feels weird,” Riley whispered to Jason as they walked through town. “Why would Fluffy write a play about bringing sheep into town for slaughter?”

  “I don’t know,” Jason replied. “But we have no choice but to play along for now.” He met her gaze and could see the worry in her eyes. “Let’s be on our guard.”

  Chapter 25 - Delectable

  Two green-robed mages stood near the edge of a circular stone disc. The platform had been embedded in the hilltop’s mossy ground, vines and soil partially covering the stone. The two mages were stooped over a panel and gesturing animatedly. The hill overlooked the nearby valley, Vaerwald’s massive floating discs outlined in the orange glow of the setting sun. Players and NPCs milled around the platform below the city as they struggled to enter before nightfall.

  Without warning, two dark missiles erupted from the nearby tree line and whistled toward the mages. A pair of dull thumps sounded as the bolts struck home, and the men promptly slumped to the ground unmoving.

  “As easy as shooting fish in a barrel,” Tom laughed, dropping from a nearby tree and slinging his bow across his back. Another group of travelers dropped from the trees nearby and immediately took up a defensive formation around the platform. One man stopped to check the dead mages for spare equipment.

  “You should show more respect for the death of two mages,” Gracien groused as he approached, slamming his staff into the ground. “Even if they are members of the earth guild,” he continued, eyeing the fallen men. This earned the fire guild master a derisive snort from Tom and a few skeptical glances from the other players.

  “Are you going soft on us now, Gracien?” Caerus asked in a sickeningly sweet voice as he and Alexion approached with their Confessors and nephilim in tow. The Confessors kept a tight formation around Alexion, and his nephilim immediately took flight to scout the area around them. With night approaching, they would be nearly invisible in the skies unless they used their light magic.

  “Not hardly, but I don’t relish the deaths of my fellow mages,” Gracien retorted with a glare at the noble. “You know that I do this only to alert the council to the threat the Twilight Throne poses.”

  “You have to break a few eggs to make an omelet,” Alexion interjected with a grim smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Think of this as collateral damage on the path to Vaerwald’s salvation. What are a few lives if they might save thousands?”

  Gracien shook his head. “Then show me this omelet. What is our next step?”

  “Tom and his team will secure the disc,” Alexion explained, trying to keep the contempt from his voice. Sympathy was for the weak and the foolish. “As you so kindly explained, this platform acts as a secondary entrance into Vaerwald in the event of an emergency. In our case, it will enable us to avoid the city’s tube system or alerting the other travelers and citizens to our presence. Tom’s travelers and our own forces will then infiltrate the city’s lower levels.”

  “With the undead slaves we captured in Sibald, of course,” Caerus added, gesturing at the undead that were being brought up from the rear.

  Alexion grimaced at being interrupted by the noble, but he managed to silence the insidious whisper in the back of his mind that demanded he put Caerus in place. “Our casualties in Sibald were unfortunate,” Alexion bit out. “However, the silver lining was that we were able to re-purpose the equipment of the Twilight Throne troops.”

  The undead looked beaten and haggard as they approached, their skin marred by jagged wounds that had gone untreated. They were a motley assembly of captured slaves, deserters, and Twilight Throne soldiers, but Alexion had armed and attired the entire group in the dark leather armor that was customary among Jason’s forces. The equipment was still stained with congealed blood, but that would hardly matter in a few hours.

  “Interesting,” Gracien murmured as he surveyed the undead, walked up and down the line. He spared a kick for the occasional slave that dared to look in his direction. “I suppose this lot will do. Yes, they will do nicely. I should be able to sell your story to the council.”

  “I’m glad you approve,�
�� Alexion replied dryly.

  “The platform is ready,” Tom reported from where he stooped over the platform’s control panel. “We just need to load everybody onboard, and then we can ride this sucker up into Vaerwald.” An excited grin was plastered on the player’s face, and his teammates looked equally anxious to be off. Perhaps Alexion’s promise of unrestrained looting and pillaging had inspired them.

  “Good. Then let’s get started,” Alexion announced as he boarded the platform and his troops and slaves followed closely behind him.

  A moment later, he felt the platform shudder, and it slowly began to rise into the air, dirt spilling from the edges of the disc. As he took in the sight of the mage city approaching, he tuned out the anxious conversation of the players and soldiers around him. Alexion felt a subtle weight press down on his shoulder, and he smelled a faint hint of perfume. A slow smile crept across his face. This next part was going to be entertaining. He could only hope that his mother was watching.

  ***

  “And here she is!” Rupert announced, gesturing at a nearby building. After walking for a few minutes, the group had arrived in front of an unassuming storefront. Wooden paneling dotted the front of the structure, and a terrace had been installed on the second floor. A sign hung beside the door, gently swaying in the breeze and announcing that they had arrived at “The Butcher’s Block.”

  “Uh, it looks great,” Frank replied hesitantly as he noticed Rupert looking at them expectantly. There was no noise coming from the interior of the restaurant, and its windows were dark.

  “It is great,” Rupert replied with a broad grin. “This is the best gastropub in all of Griswald.”

  “Are there many gastropubs in town?” Riley asked, glancing at the nearby buildings skeptically. The rustic medieval town hardly seemed like the place for fine dining.