by Oliver Mayes
“I’ll take another crack at it today, see if I can find any weak points or exploits. Tune in tonight, Thursday the 8th of August around 9pm, to see if I kill Mordred or if I feed it again. Peace out.”
All done. What to do with himself now? Coffee and networking. Maybe a closer look at assassin and ranger playstyles, so he could find more efficient ways of moving. A search on throwing knives to see if anyone had any better methods for using them, though Damien had never heard of them prior to getting his hands on the sling. Lots to do. Starting with coffee.
He settled back into his chair and started from the Saga Online front page. He sipped his coffee as he read through what admins deemed to be the biggest Saga events of the last twenty-four hours. Magnitude was up in the top five, as he had been for the last week. At exactly midnight, the Carlisle-Elite had lowered the requirement for recruitment by half.
Weird. Wasn’t the whole point of the wall and the kill count to limit progression and maintain quality control? Getting five kills in a row without dying would be more than twice as easy as ten. Why were they upping recruitment so quickly? He found part of the answer a few stories further down, squeezing in at number five. It was him. He’d made the front page.
#5: Daemien Breaches New Solo Dungeon: The Dark Tower.
How about that? He’d been on the front page a few times after becoming competition leader. There’d been a story about his mom being in hospital, detailing how he’d paid for her surgery with his prize money while leaving all the unsavory bits out. There was another one when he returned to the game, after Cassandra had recovered. After that, the spotlight had drifted away. There were only so many times you could spring an ambush and stab a lot of people in the back to hold the attention of an audience. It’s not like he was a bad player. It’s just his actions lacked...significance.
It was a shame, then, that the people compiling these stories hadn’t made the connection between him breaching the Dark Tower and the Carlisle-Elite speeding up their recruitment strategy. They weren’t quite so close to the story as he was. Of course, that wouldn’t be the only reason the Carlisle-Elite were speeding up: Lillian would be out there too, doing her thing. He wondered how she was getting along. She hadn’t made the front page, which suggested she hadn’t got Excalibur yet.
He scanned the rest of the stories, but none of the others were relevant to him:
1. Orcish civil war over! Orc Clan Chief Gilgamesh renames orc capital Waaarrghkanda.
2. Carlisle-Elite ramp up Recruitment, Camelot receives no reply to angry letter.
3. Kryton takes us through a cooking tutorial for his latest discovery: the Deep-Fried Haggis.
4. Tensions rise as Elvish emissary shot outside Ragnar-Rock. Score 25 – 23 to the Dwarves.
5. Daemien breaches new solo dungeon: The Dark Tower.
There was more than enough happening in the Human Realm to be worried about the rest of them just at the moment, thank you very much. He was honestly surprised he wasn’t higher up the list. It was better than not being on the list at all, though. Damien redirected to his inbox and sent Lillian a message. She’d called him a few times yesterday and he hadn’t responded. It would be good to show it hadn’t been anything personal.
Daemien: Hey, sorry for not staying in touch like I should. Things have been difficult over here. It was great having you guys watching me and chipping in, thanks for connecting me and Andrew. His advice was really useful. I hope you’re having a better time than I am, and you get Excalibur soon. Our small corner of the game would be a lot better off if it were in your hands. Send me a message if you’re free to chat sometime.
He considered it. Then he decided he’d better send Andrew a message as well.
Daemien: Thanks for helping me out yesterday. Not many people can pull off altruistic trolling. Are things going well with Lillian? Hope the stuff in my bag is helping.
That was enough for now. He’d been sat at the computer for an hour and a half, it would be a good time to get his chores done. He drained the dregs of the cold coffee and had just stood up when his chat box pinged. Andrew had already written him back.
Aetherius: You’re welcome. I’m not sure about that second statement but I’ll take it as a compliment. Things are going okay, we’ve hit a snag but I’m working on it. I have bad news: the Bag of Holding hasn’t been connected to an inventory since your livestream on Monday evening. I see what you did there. Nice move. But your inventory is gone. Your base is likely gone, as well. Sorry.
At least he had confirmation. Damien settled back into his chair and keyed out a reply.
Daemien: I’m the one who’s sorry. Should’ve told you first, so you could take anything you needed before I did it. That’s my fault. What’s the snag?
Aetherius: Hammertime split the party and took Godhammer ahead. Long story. We’re stuck behind this riddle:
The fifth quest is a pair, with two ways through;
The path to greatness parts at no small price,
A tribute worthy of a king is due,
By you or made by one in sacrifice.
These virtues are the parents of their kin,
Aligned in disregard to personal wealth,
It is said a man’s gift opens doors for him,
And brings him before great men, such as himself.
Ideas welcome.
Hammertime had split the party? Just when Damien was starting to like him. People are invariably disappointing. There was one line in there which sounded familiar. He focused on it: These virtues are the parents of their kin. That sounded a lot like something he’d been forced to read in his literature classes. Or was it history? Where had he heard that before? He drummed his fingers on the table. Virtues. Oh! He hadn’t heard it in a class at all! It came from a conversation Cassandra had foisted on him one night, when he was complaining about his lot.
Daemien: “Gratitude is not only the greatest of virtues, but the parent of all others.” One of the two virtues it’s talking about is gratitude. I’m guessing the other is charity, because of the ‘disregard to personal wealth’ bit. So charity and gratitude are your ‘two ways through’, whatever that means.
Aetherius: How do you know so much about virtues? Was it part of your occultist training?
Daemien: Harhar. My mom works in a virtues-based kindergarten. Virtues are very much her thing. Speaking of which, I have to go, I have errands to run. That’s called diligence, by the way, although you’ve never had trouble with that one.
Aetherius: Do you know all the virtues?
Daemien: Diligence, Chastity, Forbearance, Forgiveness, Charity, Gratitude and Humility. There are different specific names for them and there are a lot more besides, but those are the seven primary virtues.
There was a long pause. Andrew had stopped responding. Damien gave him a minute, then raised his hands to start typing when the answer came through.
Aetherius: You’re a genius! Thank you again! Gtg.
So Damien was a genius now. He had it in writing from Andrew, and with two exclamation marks, no less. Damien wasn’t sure knowing the seven primary virtues qualified him as a genius, since his mom had been drumming them into his skull for as long as he could remember. The important thing was he’d obviously been helpful, to prompt such an outburst.
He put himself together, shower and all, before starting on his chores. It wasn’t enough just to know the virtues. He had to try and demonstrate them from time to time. Patience wasn’t a primary virtue, but it was the one most useful to him then and there. He’d get back into the game soon enough. He just had to be patient.
21
In the Presence of Greatness
It was 1pm when Lillian got home. Having taken an automated taxi against her principles she was on edge, but it was the fastest way home and her misgivings came second to necessity. She’d found a colleague to cover for her, although arranging it at such short notice had come at a price. She’d be covering half their Saturday night shift. The worse ha
lf, from 8pm through to 1am, although the second half on that particular day of the week was not much better.
None of this mattered. Andrew hadn’t stopped messaging her since 11:30. He said he’d solved the riddle.
Lillian had the headset on and was logged in thirty seconds after she’d closed her front door. Andrew was waiting for her.
“I didn’t think you’d actually come.”
“Never mind that, you said you’ve solved the riddle?”
“Couldn’t do it without you here. I have to put my gear on this table in exchange for your passage. Lillian? What’s wrong? You seem upset.”
Lillian drew her hand the rest of the way down her face. She thought he’d discovered something new. He was at the same place she’d reached yesterday, just before the disappointment starts. Time to fess up.
“I stayed online after you logged off and did exactly what you’re trying now. I gave my whole level 50 set as tribute and it didn’t open the way forward, but I still lost all of it. Sorry I pretended I was logging out. You needed to sleep and I didn’t want you thinking about it.”
“Yeah. I knew all of that already.”
He didn’t seem surprised in the slightest.
“How did you know already?”
“Uh, let’s see. I knew before I logged off that you were more worried about me than the riddle. I realized you weren’t coming when I checked and found you were still logged in. I knew why you’d done it and stuck around to see what happened. Five minutes later you logged off. You gave up. You weren’t on a death timer but you’d given up quickly, so something bad had happened. Once I figured out what this table did, I knew exactly what had happened.”
Lillian was annoyed, although she knew she had no right to be. It wasn’t very useful to do the wrong thing for the right reasons when you got caught five seconds in.
“You did sleep though, right?”
“Yeah, I did. Eventually. I got over it. Never mind that, are you ready?”
“Hold on, didn’t you hear me? I tried this yesterday and lost all the gear, it’ll be no different for you.”
“Damien said the two virtues this riddle’s referencing are charity and gratitude. The last four riddles were based on four of the seven primary virtues: diligence, chastity, forbearance and forgiveness. This room is charity and gratitude together. It’s not charity if you’re doing it for your own gain. The riddle states the person trying to pass through can give tribute for themselves, but it’s a better fit if one person does it on behalf of another.”
“That’s a good point. When did you become so wise in the ways of charity?”
“After two hours’ research on the subject.”
She knew he was joking, but the delivery was so dry and so quick it was completely believable. He kept going in the same, somber tone.
“That alone is a good enough reason to try, but I also have better gear to offer than you do.”
Andrew had better gear than the level 50 crusader set she’d thrown at this yesterday? That seemed unlikely. She’d believe it when she saw it, but there was an even more obvious issue that came first.
“What about you? How will you get through?”
“If I’m the charitable one, you have to be the grateful one. Hopefully, if you feel grateful enough, you’ll trigger passage for me as well.”
“I don’t know about this, Andrew.”
“Why?”
Lillian shifted her feet, trying to find the words. What if she didn’t feel ‘grateful’ enough for Andrew to come as well? What would that look like? Not good, to put it lightly. She’d have to get him through by any means necessary. She still had all her equipped gear to throw at this. But she’d need it if Hammertime was waiting for them.
What if Hammertime had already finished and was waiting until they’d already made similar sacrifices, just to rub his victory in? Would he do that? She couldn’t rule it out, not after—
“Lillian, you’re worrying.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are, I can see it.”
“What if it doesn’t work?”
“We’ve come too far not to commit now.”
“What if I get through...but you don’t?”
“Then I don’t get through. Which will mean all the conclusions I made were wrong, because I know you want me to come with you.”
All that stress for nothing. He was looking at her straight on, letting her see him completely. None of his tells were there. He wasn’t lying. He had no reservations at all.
“Do you really mean that?”
“Of course I do! You’ll need me for backup to deal with Hammertime.”
He was still holding that straight face. Lillian groaned. She was far too stressed out for all this humor.
“You’re not as funny as you think you are, Andrew.”
“Maybe, maybe not. I am about to get you through this. Ready?”
Lillian reluctantly consented. Andrew seemed pretty confident his bid would succeed, which only worried her more. She’d been certain her plan would succeed as well. At least he’d been warned. They didn’t have any better options.
Lillian remained unconvinced until Andrew took a deep breath, held out his hand and took hold of the item he intended to offer as tribute for her passage. His palm literally glowed with the worth of his offering. Lillian knew what it was immediately, despite having never seen one in person before. She did a double take, not trusting her own senses. It was an artifact. A permanent one. The real thing.
Only two other artifacts had ever been announced by players. Their existence had been widely reported on Saga Online media, evidence that the ceiling for what was possible in game was far higher than anyone had conceived. The two players who’d advertised their good fortune had experienced vastly different fortunes afterwards. The first had their artifact forcefully taken in an ambush less than two days after they’d announced their windfall. The second had recently become leader of the orc capital, Waaarrghkanda. It made sense that Andrew had kept his acquisition to himself.
The design was elegant. Two silver serpents wrapped around each other, their forms interlocking to hold the structure steady. There was a square opening at the center, holding the component people had learned to stay quiet about. A vibrant green gem, emitting its own light. The name of the item and its description appeared in gold above it as Lillian stared in disbelief.
Loki’s Lesson in Trickery: You summon a decoy that performs a predetermined action for 30 seconds. You obtain true invisibility for the duration of the effect. The effect is canceled when you or the decoy take damage, when you cast an ability or when you inflict a new source of damage. Cooldown: 30 seconds.
Lillian finished reading and the world made a little more sense. The questions rolled off her tongue as she caught up with reality. Andrew answered them as quickly as she could throw them out, without either of them taking their eyes off his most valuable possession.
“That’s an artifact.”
“Yes.”
“How did you get it?”
“Magnitude made it for me.”
“When?”
“Right after you left me. Right after I thought you left me. I found the artifact material the same day, after we had the fight about Trinytea in the Malignant Crypt.”
“So this is why you started folding your arms and tapping your foot.”
“Yes.”
“This is how you’ve been using the Bag of Holding to drink mana potions.”
“Yes.”
“He gave you those two items and fixed all your character’s weaknesses in one go.”
“Yes.”
“And now you’re offering it as tribute, for me?”
“...Yes.”
“Why? Why the artifact? Why not save the artifact and give it everything else you have?”
Andrew lowered his hand and tilted it sideways over the tabletop. The amulet chimed as it bounced off the stone, then fell flat and lay silent. The rarest item
Lillian had ever seen. It seemed so insubstantial for something so overpowered. Andrew stared at it a few moments longer. Then looked at Lillian.
“This is the only item I have that I can’t afford to lose.”
He nodded at her, then the table. The artifact began to disappear. Neither Andrew nor Lillian looked around the room waiting for the way forward to reveal itself. They were both focused on the fading artifact. That’s how special it was. After a few moments, it was gone.
Lillian couldn’t believe Andrew had owned something so incredible. Let alone that he’d give it up for her sake, for something that might not even appear. It took a while before she realized that no rejection message had come. She looked up, to the other side of the table. There it was.
“Andrew. You did it.”
She caught his eye and the two of them looked at the back wall together. Lillian could see the corridor leading to the Throne Room, through the alcove that had appeared while they weren’t looking. She readied her weapons.
“Let’s go. We might still be in time.”
She was reviewing Hammertime’s character information in her head. If she was going to make him listen, first she’d have to put him out of commission. A more difficult prospect than simply killing him, as the Black Knight had shown. It would take at least thirty seconds, or up to a minute and a half if Berserker Rage was available to him. That was just Hammertime. There could be other players as well. At least Andrew would be there for support, but she’d rather ensure his safety and let him hang back. It hadn’t even occurred to her that she might not have another choice until Andrew called out after her, his voice trembling.
“Are you mocking me?”
Lillian stopped. She turned. Andrew had not moved from his spot. She looked between the way forward and him.
“What are you—”
“I thought I’d really done it. I was terrified I’d just given up my artifact for nothing, then you said I’d opened the way forward and I believed you. Why? Why would you hurt me like that?”
