by David Petrie
“I can’t say that’s surprising.” Luka turned away from the scene as a cloud of shimmering particles rose from behind her. “Whatever, let’s go.”
Max nodded.
It didn’t take long to cross the room. He took out a few more of Tusker’s Boars on the way, receiving a couple bad hits in the process. Fortunately Luka was there to drop a well-timed heal on him.
“Thanks.” He shot another Boar sneaking up behind her.
“Likewise.”
He gave her a smile, grateful to have a healer again. Just the knowledge that someone was there behind him made him feel a little better. It had been a while since he’d had that kind of support. Besides, relying on Larkin’s pixie bombs wasn’t a sustainable strategy. Max only had a couple of the items left, and with the rate that Larkin was inhaling the rest of their dust supply, he wasn’t getting any more.
Together, they reached Alastair and his assistant, who were in the middle of a battle of their own.
“Sir, we have to shut down this madness.” Jeff-with-a-three stomped one foot as he spoke.
“Oh, yes, sure we do.” Alastair stood with his arms folded like a stubborn child.
“Might I remind you that this is your game, and it wouldn’t be possible without investors such as the twins up there. Their money was integral to Checkpoint back when this was all a file on Carver’s hard drive.”
“Oh, I know, Jeff-with-a-three.” Alastair’s voice was thick with sarcasm. “We should help them undermine the very spirit of Noctem right now, and sell contracts off to the highest bidder.”
“Sir, you are a Game Master of Carpe Noctem.” J3ff stabbed a finger at the GM band around Alastair’s arm. “All you would need to do is put a ban on PVP for the duration of the auction. That would fix everything. You could put a stop to this in seconds.”
Max’s jaw clenched. If they banned PVP, he wouldn’t be able to go after Nix. Her escape would be secured. Hell, that was probably why J3ff was insisting on it. He just wanted to keep his real boss safe. Fortunately, Alastair seemed to be avoiding taking such an extreme step.
“If it’s that easy, you should have no problem taking care of it yourself.”
J3ff broke eye contact with his employer. “I would, but I lack the programing skills to set up a localized ban on PVP. I can only target individual players from the GM console, but you, you know exactly how to implement such a thing.”
“Look, J3ff.” Alastair shoved his hands in his pockets and flapped his coat open and closed. “I don’t like this whole event, and I don’t want to use something that heavy-handed to protect it. Even if the twins are our valued investors.”
“But if this continues, some of Noctem’s rulers may die, and that could throw the game world into chaos just like what followed Berwyn’s fall. It has been six months and things are only now just settling back down.”
Alastair sighed. “Yes, well, you have me there.”
“We won’t let that happen.” Max stepped into the argument. “We can kill Tusker for you, and it looks like the other Lords are holding their own so far. The rest of Noctem should be safe without a PVP ban.”
“Oh, look Jeff, it’s Max.” Alastair took the opportunity to exit the conversation. “Hello Max. And, oh, Luka is here with you. How nice. How have you been?”
“I’m fine.” Luka glanced over her shoulder. “Are you any closer to pinning down where Nix is connecting to Noctem from?”
“Ah.” He raised one finger as if thrilled to have a way out of the conversation that J3ff had been forcing on him. Then he dropped his hand back down as he deflated. “No, sadly we haven’t been able to nail down her position yet.”
“Damn.”
“Sir, please.” Jeff-with-a-three held out one hand, pleading to his boss. “You represent Checkpoint.”
“Fine, tell you what…” Alastair tore his GM band off and wrapped it around J3ff’s arm on top of the overly serious elf’s own GM band. “You can represent Checkpoint tonight because, as you have reminded me,” he paused to flip up the collar of his coat and adjust his caster, “this is my game, so tonight, I’m going to play it for once. And I feel like stopping Tusker the old-fashioned way.”
“But, sir–”
“Come on, Max, let’s go kill some Boars.”
With that, Alastair marched off toward the chaos.
Max gave Luka a shrug and chambered a round.
“Shall we?”
Chapter Fourteen
“Why does this keep happening?” Seven weaved to one side to avoid one of the reynards from Thrift, the ones that Nix had referred to as murderous kittens. A fitting description as they tore into an unsuspecting member of House Boar. Lord Murph finished them with a bullet to the chin.
“Eek!” Seven cupped her hands over her mouth to stop herself from drawing attention to herself.
Some help Lockheart was.
The house of sketchy individuals that she had been tasked with getting close to had dispersed the instant the Boars attacked. Their lack of concern irritated her, although part of her couldn’t deny that their willingness to defend the auction was admirable.
She jogged in place with her hands still clasped over her mouth, her head on a swivel, looking for a place to hide.
To her left, that enormous faunus from Winter Moon swung her giant sword like a golf club, launching a player into the air with an insane smile on her face. To her right was even worse, a hulking mass of dolls consuming a screaming member of the House Boar while that crafter, Larkin, stabbed people with his scissors.
Then, she saw it.
Safety!
Sweet inconspicuous safety.
The buffet table still sat near the stage covered with an assortment of food items. Seven took off at a sprint, racing for the only bit of protection she could find. With a little luck, she might be able to ride out the insanity that was going on all around her. She dropped to her knees and slid for home, rolling under the tablecloth with her eyes shut tight.
Safe! She celebrated internally as the sounds of combat surrounded her hidey-hole.
Seven pushed up on her hands and knees and opened her eyes, only to find herself face to toe with a rather delicate foot. Following the slender leg up, she found Echo sitting rather unladylike with her legs out in front of her. The fairy munched on a pastry of some kind obviously claimed from the table above their heads. Seven blew out a sigh.
“I see you abandoned everyone and got to safety.” The silent mage answered with a smile but continued to eat as if there was nothing wrong with their situation.
“At least I’m not alone.” Seven pulled her legs up to her chest and rested her chin on her knees to keep her head down in the cramped space. “How did things get so far out of hand?”
Echo answered with a nonchalant shrug.
Seven raised her house ring to her mouth, ready to ask for help. Then she lowered it again, questioning if she even should ask. After killing her superior earlier, she wasn’t sure how much support she could expect. She shook off her worry and raised her ring again.
“Hello, Leftwitch? My Lady?” She felt stupid calling her boss by her title. “I’m having a slight problem. It seems that one house has staged an attack on the auction. I’m doing what I can to stay hidden, but I was wondering if Cassius might be close to reaching the ship?”
Seven waited, getting a confused look from Echo.
No one answered.
Maybe Leftwitch is on a different line right now?
She dropped her hand to her lap and sighed, not sure what she should do. Then the table cloth beside her flew up.
“Move over, move over!”
Seven took an elbow to the shoulder as the elf, Dartmouth, scurried under the table.
“Alright, alright.” She scooted closer to Echo, who didn’t take up much space. “Aren’t you the Lord of Serpents? Shouldn’t you be with your house out there fighting?” Seven shoved a lock of dark blue hair back behind her ear with a huff, dropping her professional persona a bit.
She was officially at her wits end.
“I, ah,” the cowardly elf stuttered before getting a word out, “no, I’m more of a delegator. I’m sure my Knight and Archmage are doing just fine without me.” He glanced at the party read out on his wrist for a moment, then cringed.
“Uh huh.” Seven narrowed her eyes at the snake.
“Whatever.” He leaned forward toward Echo. “Miss Kirabell, might I trouble you for a favor?”
Seven raised an eyebrow at the name Kirabell, wondering again why the rest of the fairy’s house called her Echo.
Some kind of nickname maybe?
She shoved the thought aside as Dartmouth continued.
“This event has gotten a little too lively for comfort. Do you think you could teleport me to safety? I would deeply appreciate it.”
Echo simply shook her head.
“I suppose not. You wouldn’t be able to get back on board, would you?” A slight sneer slithered across Dartmouth’s face at her response, as if he thought asking her to abandon the rest of her house was reasonable. He shook his head. “Surely, you must have some sort of plan to survive this.”
Echo raised a finger like she had an idea and shoved the rest of her pastry into her mouth. Then with a sudden serious expression, she flipped the hood of her cloak up and pulled it down to hide her face. A second later she was gone, vanishing under the table cloth to enact some sort of plan.
Seven waited with Dartmouth, listening to the sounds of violence outside their hiding place.
Suddenly, Echo rolled back into the safety of the table.
“Any luck?” A hopeful glow filled Dartmouth’s eyes.
The fairy answered with an excited nod, before reaching under her cloak and producing a loaf of bread and another pastry. She held them out to Dartmouth, a proud smile evident on her face.
“I don’t want a Danish!” The elf slapped the pastry from her hand causing her to shrink back, her dull eyes flicking back and forth between the fallen snack and its murderer. The fairy pulled the loaf of bread back, holding it close like she feared for its safety. Dartmouth let out a sigh. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you. Sometimes I forget how frail your kind are.”
The silent fairy narrowed her eyes at him, clearly not accepting his apology. She bit into the loaf of bread, then tore off one end and held it out to Seven.
“And you’re a member of the most feared house in Noctem?” Seven shook her head at the girl but accepted the offering and took a bite regardless.
Echo gave her a playful nudge and settled in to eat beside her.
Suddenly, the tablecloth flew up on both sides of the table revealing a pair of players tumbling into the space in unison. The new additions to the cramped space collided with Dartmouth and Seven, both falling over in a pile.
“Oh, hi Seven, wasn’t expecting to find you here.” A familiar archer waved from where he lay on the floor tangled up with Dartmouth. An equally familiar reynard lay draped over her legs.
“Kegan, Corvin.” Seven gave the pair a sarcastic bow and gestured to the table above. “Welcome to the coward’s clubhouse. What brings you to my domain?”
“We saw this little one from the box seats and watched her raid the buffet before ducking back under here.” Kegan gestured in Echo’s direction as he shoved himself free of the indignant Lord of Serpents beside him.
“We thought we should come down check on her.” Corvin added while carefully righting himself.
“Nice, food.” Kegan snatched the fallen pastry off the floor and mashed it into his face. “The Boars are putting up a fight out there.”
Seven wondered again how Lockheart had become so infamous as the archer spoke with his mouth full of floor pastry and spat crumbs all over Dartmouth.
“I’d heard that the Boars have been recruiting aggressively. I guess it was true.” Dartmouth brushed off his shoulder and attempted to inch away from Kegan.
“Yeah, they brought a small army.” Corvin pulled his legs in tight, clearly trying not to crowd the rest of the table’s inhabitants. “But from the looks of it, the Boars have gone with quantity over quality.”
“So there’s a lot of them, but they aren’t skilled fighters or high-level players.” Seven felt the analytical side of her mind assert itself to take over the situation.
Dartmouth’s shoulders relaxed. “So the rest of the auction’s guests should be able to beat them off?”
“Heh, that’s what she–” Before Kegan could finish his sentence, an arrow slammed through the table’s protective surface directly in front of his face. The elf’s eyes crossed as he stared at the tip.
Seven’s whole body tensed as everyone ducked their heads a few inches.
“And no, the auction might not be easy to defend.” Corvin cupped his hands over his long, furry ears to hold them down, lest he get an unwanted piercing. “The Boars may lack quality fighters, but quantity is still quantity. There’s only so long everyone out there can keep up the fight without being overwhelmed.”
The group of hidden players fell silent at Corvin’s assessment. The quiet didn’t last.
“Hey, Seven!” a gruff voice shouted in her ear. She jumped in surprise, whacking her head on the underside of the table.
“Ow ow ow.” Seven rubbed at her skull, noting the loss of a few hit points on her stat-sleeve as everyone in her hiding place stared at her like she’d lost her mind. It took a moment for her to recognize the voice as Cassius. She brought her house ring to her mouth.
“What!” she shouted back before remembering she was addressing a superior. “Sorry, um, what’s up?”
“I apologize for startling you. Just getting you back for pushing me off the ship.”
“Yeah, about that…”
“Heh, don’t worry about it. Chalk it up to bad planning on our part. But anyway, I’ll be there in about five minutes. I take it you’re still alive in there?”
“Yes, sir.” Seven nodded even though he couldn’t see her.
“Great, make your way out and get to the landing pad. I never got to see where the auction is being held when I was on board earlier, so I’ll need you to guide me there. I’ll try to put a stop to things when I get inside.”
Seven froze, listening to the chaos outside. “But, I’m not sure I can make it to you.”
“You killed me, didn’t you? You’ll be fine.”
“But…” Seven started to say, before realizing there wasn’t a reasonable argument to give from his perspective. “Damn.”
“Everything okay?” Corvin looked her in the eyes.
“My house is sending backup. I have to go meet him on the landing pad. Provided I can make it there.”
“Reinforcements? Sounds good, want us to escort you there?” Kegan finished off the pastry that he’d found on the floor.
Seven opened her mouth to say yes on reflex but shut it again. It may not help her mission to get on Lockheart’s good side if they found out that she was working with the player that had attacked them earlier.
“Ah, no, you should stay here and help fight the Boars. It sounds like we’re going to need everyone to hold them off.” It wasn’t technically a lie. Seven let out a breath when they didn’t argue, only to take it back when realizing that she had to leave the safety of the table.
“Good luck.” Kegan pulled a wooden cylinder from his pouch. “If you get into trouble, pull on both ends and smash it at your feet.”
“Thank you.” Seven took the item, despite not knowing what it was. Then she paused to psych herself up, taking several more deep breaths. “Okay, can’t wait here forever.” She threw up the table cloth and stood up, coming face to face with one of Tusker’s Boars.
“Oh shit!”
Before the word even left her mouth, a chandelier of thousands of tiny crystals crashed into the floor, obliterating the man in front of her. Instinct took over and she dove to the side, away from the crystal hail.
“Sorry!” called a voice from above.
Seven rolle
d over to find Ginger dangling above her from the chain that once supported chandelier. The Lady of Lockheart gave her an apologetic tilt of her head before firing a grappling line and zipping off to another light fixture. Seven started to push herself off the floor but was knocked back down when a reynard jumped over her. A furry tail swatted her in the face as she landed on her back again.
“My bad!” Nix shouted back as she vaulted up onto the stage. “I thought you were a corpse.” The reynard didn’t wait for a response before leaping over the table of rare items that had just been auctioned off earlier. She kicked it over with a crash and fired over the side at a player in the viewing boxes above.
Items clattered to the stage, sliding and bouncing off in all directions. The scalefang egg that Seven had purchased rolled to the edge of the raised platform and she lunged on instinct to catch it. The item dropped into her outstretched fingers just as a hatchet embedded itself in the floor next to her.
“Gah!” Seven held her scalefang egg close to her chest for protection. She wasn’t sure if the item could break or not, so she tapped the transfer option under the inventory tab of her stat-sleeve. The egg vanished as if it had never been there and she dropped her hand to her side, coming in contact with the hatchet’s handle sticking up from the floor. The instant she touched the weapon, a haunting voice echoed through her head.
“Ah, there you are!”
Seven pulled her hand away from the handle like the thing might bite her at any second. The voice didn’t stop.
“Now, you have to ask yourself, is this possessed hatchet actually speaking… or is it your imagination?”
Seven stared at the weapon, remembering what Dalliance had said during the auction, that it would bind to whoever touched it until they abandoned it.
Did that mean it was hers?
Her thoughts were interrupted when one of the Tusker’s Boars stepped in front of her. Seven scooted away a few inches on her rear until her back hit the stage.
“I believe my Lord won the bid on that fair and square.” The player pointed at the hatchet with the point of his sword.
Seven glanced between the sword and the possessed item beside her. Technically the swordsman was right, Tusker had bought the weapon at the auction.
