Hope Engine

by Andrew Lynch

  I clenched my fist to stop myself from attacking. Everything he said reeked of hypocrisy. ‘How can you call it freedom if to deny it means death?’

  ‘If you do not allow me my piece, then you shall not know until it is too late. I assure you, player, that I am on your side. I desire no violence. My goal is to unite the whole of Tulgatha under a single banner.’

  ‘So we can all lose our shadows? Is that the alternative.’

  ‘Allow me time, and I shall explain.’

  So, decision time. Lose my village to this warmonger, or allow him in and lose my village in a slightly more roundabout way. I looked at those around me, and they all looked at me, waiting for my command. They would follow me, so it was my job to protect them. I knew I couldn’t beat the army of The Eastern Shadow. I’d seen it in action, and I wasn’t an idiot. The longer I talked, the longer I could work on planning a way out of this situation.

  That was what I was thinking, and it made perfect sense. Dead men don’t have choice. As long as I was alive, I had options. Unfortunately, my instinct had taken an entirely different tack, and my arms rose up, the Shadowbolt already flying from them.

  I landed a direct hit on the emissary. Weapons were pulled from sleeves, obsidian blades pulled back ready to strike, and barbed roots circled the emissary, ready to gore.

  Nothing happened. No damage number fell from his nameplate, not even a 0 to show it had been resisted. I checked my combat log.

  “Shadowbolt misses Emissary”

  No. I had seen the Shadowbolt go clear through his chest. Although, normally that causes the target’s skin to darken. This had just passed through. Like he wasn’t there.

  The emissary brushed non-existent dirt from his robe.

  I held up a hand to my followers, and they stood down.

  ‘I have decided to invite you into Thanis. For lack of any better options.’

  The emissary smiled with genuine warmth. ‘I’m glad you chose discussion over violence.’

  I turned and allowed him to follow me towards the inn.

  ‘So, what’s the trick, hmm? You’re a projection and not really here?’

  He reached out and placed a hand on my shoulder. A very firm, very real, very here hand.

  ‘Why would I need tricks, when my Lord grants me his power? Or at least, a fraction of his power.’

  Oh, obviously it was only a fraction of his power. Obviously!

  Chapter 25: Negotiations

  The inn was swarming with life. Thoroughly bustling. It was a marvel that my followers had managed to put this together while I was away on my Situation. There was enough seating for thirty people, and twenty of those seats were occupied. A table of Elves sat in the corner, all facing into the room, presumably because they were paranoid. An earth and a fire elemental were ordering from the bar, and one of my minions was being very firm on insisting that the fire elemental had to pay for everything he burned. A few humans, some obviously warriors, some mages, and some traders, made up the bulk of the patronage.

  The room was lit by a grand fire that crackled softly next to me. I sat with Horace and the emissary. The light occasionally flared bright enough that I could swear I almost managed to see more than just Horace’s mouth under his hood. But no matter how much the idea of seeing what my head cultist looked like appealed to me, I was transfixed by the emissary, and how the light didn’t touch him. It was like looking at a digitally retouched picture, but in real life. Because he was so overexposed by light, he appeared flawless.

  ‘You should definitely try the Buttercup Stew.’ I said. ‘It’s a regional dish. Highly sought after.’

  The emissary put his menu of hand carved wood down. ‘Why not? Hearts and minds, as they say.’

  ‘Actually, master, might I suggest that our guest tries the most delicious of foods?’ He turned to the emissary. ‘Grown fresh by our own druid.’

  The upside down Geeko hurriedly scratched out the hot toxic mess that was the Bubonic Buttercup stew from his order pad, and I ordered a “Naterry” for all three of us. I had no idea what it was, but they were Bri’s effort towards the village catering, and anything would be better than more buttercups. Quite why Horace hadn’t wanted to give the buttercup stew to the emissary though...

  The Geeko that took our order scampered away, staying stuck to the ceiling the entire time.

  ‘So, Emissary, you wanted to talk.’

  ‘Indeed. I wish to talk of matters both grand and small. To absorb your fascinating local culture. To consider.’

  ‘Uh huh.’

  The odd thing was, I wasn’t on edge. This guy could clearly beat me in a fight, as my Shadowbolt had failed to even hit him, let alone do damage, but because he wasn’t showing any signs of aggression, it all seemed very relaxed. Well, okay, he was implying that he would unleash the same army that steam-rolled Hursh’s, but he wasn’t doing it in a very aggressive way.

  ‘Such is the Emissary's way, yes. I must understand you.’

  ‘Let’s get on with it then. Ask what you need to ask.’

  ‘Oh, no. In this instance, words rarely lead to understanding. I shall observe and deduce.’

  Horace leaned over to me. ‘Shall I stab him, master?’

  ‘I don’t think it will help, no thanks.’

  Horace nodded solemnly.

  ‘Emissary, perhaps I judged you too harshly,’ I began. ‘I had seen your armies attack in overwhelming numbers, and I feared that would be the fate of my village. But, I am usually more open minded. So, please tell me exactly what your goal is. Perhaps we could work together.’

  The emissary smiled, a spark from the fire throwing light on his chair, but not him. ‘I have been doing this for longer than players have been aware of us. I have seen every possible reaction, and yours was very much expected. Not to worry. Of course, if you were to kill me, then the wrath of The Eastern Shadow would fall upon you, but it’s for that exact reason that our Lord blessed me with these powers. To save you.’

  ‘Okay, so, tell me more about what The Eastern Shadow is. What’s with the whole–’ I motion to his face. ‘– that. The no shadows thing. I mean, it doesn’t seem healthy.’

  The same Geeko from before – no, a different one. The last one had been yellow with blue spots, this one was yellow with blue splotches – held a tray with his grippy fingers as he scuttled along the ceiling. He placed a blue berry, similar to what I’d seen Bri pluck from one of her bushes, in front of each of us. It was the size of my fist, and as I cracked the top open, a glowing fruit flesh flowed out of it. The texture of it looked disturbingly like supps, but that wasn’t about to stop me as I was dangerously close to taking damage from hunger. I scooped up some of the spilled fruit with a finger, and braced myself. It tasted…

  I let out an involuntary moan. ‘Fuck me with a hand crafted artisanal loaf. That’s amazing.’

  Horace nodded, but hadn’t dived into his own naterry. ‘Yes, master.’

  The Emissary smiled, and carefully pulled the stalk from the top of his, revealing the glowing blue flesh inside. He bent over it and sniffed. ‘Sweet, with a note of bitterness at the end.’

  I made a chopping motion with my hand. ‘No bitterness in the taste. It’s all good. Basically mouth sex.’

  He made a thoughtful sound. ‘Not something The Eastern Shadow desires. But, I shan’t say no.’

  Horace looked at both of our fruits. ‘Let me show you how to eat that in the traditional way, master.’ As he stood up, he knocked the table, and sent all three of the naterry rolling.

  I managed to catch my own, but no sooner than I had, Horace grabbed it from me, almost sending me sprawling from my chair.

  ‘Damn it, Horace, pull yourself together. I can eat a fruit without instruction.’

  He sat back down. ‘Sorry master. Yes, let’s all eat.’

  I went back to my naterry and… the stalk had been pulled out. I looked at the others. They had all had the stalk pulled out. I know mine was still in, and Horace had
n’t touched his. Oh, Horace.

  I gave him a long stare. ‘Yes. Let’s all eat.’ His darkened hood was looking at me, but it didn’t nod or shake to give me any hint. I sniffed at it. ‘As you say, Emissary. A sharper note towards the end.’

  Still glaring daggers at Horace, I continued. ‘So, the no shadows thing. You don’t cast them, they don’t touch you, what’s up? Is it a bug in the game engine? A special power?’

  ‘A bug, a feature, is there really a difference? The power of my Lord is such that even the stars bend to our will.’

  ‘Even the stars? A bit grandiose, no?’

  The Emissary smiled as an adult would to a loved child. ‘Of course, I refer to Tulgatha’s star, Solarn, but beyond that…’ he waved his hand around in a vague “who knows?” kind of way. He then pulled a wooden spoon from his robes and began eating his naterry.

  What was Horace up to?

  ‘Anyway, down to business. How would we join you? What’s the process? What would be required of Thanis?’

  ‘Mmm, yes.’ The Emissary tapped the spoon to his teeth after devouring his naterry in a few seconds. ‘That was rather divine. I believe that I shall take one for the road home. Until then, why don’t you show me around your village while I answer your questions.’

  ‘Why don’t I, indeed.’

  We exited the inn, and I looked back at Horace’s untouched naterry. I had a sinking feeling in my stomach.

  ‘I had a question for you, Severo.’ I motioned for him to continue as I led him to Ixly’s swamp. ‘Why did you name this place Thanis?’

  ‘I had other things I wanted to do, and the popup window was blocking my view. Just wanted to get it out of the way.’

  ‘It has no special meaning?’

  ‘Well. If you really want to read into it, it’s a mashup of the Greek words for death and sacrifice. You know, trying to keep it nice and edgy as a warlock.’

  ‘Yes. An interesting class, is it not? And, from my limited knowledge of players, there is a suggestion of sacrifice when you pick it, no?’

  I thought back to the description text for the warlock. ‘Yes, that’s right. “But be warned, to reach your true potential, sacrifices will be made. Are you ready to sacrifice yourself in the pursuit of power?”. But it’s okay, I seem to have made friends with someone that can heal.’

  ‘What if it was not talking of losing Life when in battle? What if it meant something deeper? A true sacrifice?’

  I noticed that Horace was looking intently at the Emissary instead of keeping his hood bowed down in typical cultist fashion. ‘What are you poking at, Emissary?’

  ‘Merely an idle question. You could have picked any number of classes that never give mention to sacrifice. Why willingly give up part of yourself when not necessary?’

  We walked through a small gap in the fence, and my feet immediately sunk into the loamy earth, and a green mist that I’d never noticed before became thick and sticky in my lungs.

  ‘I’ll be honest, I hadn’t really given it much thought. Giving up part of your Life to boost a spell is just a cool mechanic. A risk reward, gambling type of thing.’

  ‘I have met many gamblers. Most are smart enough to not stake their life.’ I was about to respond to what might have been an insult, but he kept going. ‘Anyway, tell me of this swamp. It seems out of place next to the dead land at the entrance and the inn.’

  ‘Administrative error, mostly. This is actually my first time setting foot in here. Been a bit busy since it appeared.’

  Horace spoke. ‘It is owned by another player.’

  The Emissary stopped and looked at the brilliantly white temple for a moment. ‘Yes. That does make sense, does it not. Am I too assume the other disparate corner is similarly owned by another player? This Bri and her naterry that you spoke of?’

  ‘Yeah, that’s right. They just moved in. One big happy family. Now, back to you answering my questions.’

  The Emissary broke his gaze from the temple. ‘Yes, of course. How rude of me. You wanted to know what would be expected of you and those under your influence.’

  I noticed glowing eyes all around the swamp, and a distinct lack of bustle. The Geeko were hiding. The Stagodon however, continued their patrols like the diligent guards they were.

  ‘It’s a pressing concern, yes. Don’t get me wrong, I’d much rather you just go away so I can play the game, but you are rather invincible and threatening violence, so here we are.’

  The Emissary wiped his brow and stared at me for a moment, his face twisting into a sneer. ‘I am, yes. And for that exact reason. To you, this is a game. To us, this is our life. In your world, there is a social contract. You do not steal or kill because it would be “wrong”. In here, I can count the number of players that are not cold blooded murderers on a single hand. You throw away the social contract of your world, and you unleash your base desires on Tulgatha’s people.’

  The Emissary staggered back a step and hung his head. When he raised it, his face was back to a carefully schooled neutrality. ‘I apologise. I do not think this swamp air agrees with me. Let us return to your death land.’

  Okay, weird. I guided him back through the swamp and past the fence. As soon as I stepped onto the cracked earth of my side of the village, the green mist disappeared. It hadn’t exactly been pleasant, but I didn’t feel like staggering all over the place. ‘Better?’

  He cleared his throat. ‘In a moment, yes.’ He took a deep breath and motioned for me to continue.

  ‘What about the N-plague. Is that your Lord?’

  ‘That is a concern for players. My Lord has little interest in such things. A player can’t be converted by my Lord, so whatever your plague is, it is not a direct occurrence of the light’s power.’

  ‘Right. The Druid’s grove may be more your speed. Let’s go.’ I stumbled on a rock but righted myself. ‘Now, you got a bit sidetracked there with some crazy playercism. But again, what would you want from me?’

  Horace interjected. ‘Excellent play on words, master. Playercism. That’s why you’re the master.’

  ‘I assure you, that was not me. I was not myself. I do not know why I said those things.’

  ‘No, of course. I often find myself insulting people i’m trying to turn to my cause, don’t I, Horace?’

  ‘Oh yes, master. It’s the first rule of negotiation. Make them feel like their position is less than it really is.’

  ‘Negotiation, dating, same principle, sure.’

  The Emissary seemed confused by this and let it pass him by. ‘Yes, rather. Thanis will be called upon to help recruit for The Eastern Shadow, and would be expected to provide aid should the army ever require it, whether that be in the provision of additional troops, or the provision of… provisions.’

  Now, I accepted that “provisions” wasn’t the easiest word to say, but he was definitely slurring more than necessary.

  ‘I’ll be honest, that doesn’t sound too terrible.’ I stumbled on another rock. I’d have to get the cultists to sweep the area at this rate. I stopped to catch my breath for a moment. Why was I out of breath? ‘The way you put it, it wouldn’t be any worse than any other lord deciding to take an interest in Thanis.’

  ‘That is a good way to think of it, yes.’

  ‘There is one thing that worries me though. Your lord and his power.’ I pointed at the Emissary and his complete lack of shadows. ‘How about the light infection thing?’

  The Emissary waved a hand dismissively, but it almost threw him off balance. ‘I was being mysterious and opaque earlier. I assure you that you will be not merely unharmed, but entirely unaffected by my Lord’s light.’

  In a quiet voice, Horace asked, ‘What about me?’

  At this the Emissary smiled. ‘That’s the good news. My brother, you shall be embraced by the light. It shall engulf you and fill you with a purpose higher than you can imagine. Not this dark god nonsense that you have built into you to aid a player’s immersion in our world. It is true purp
ose.’ He looked at me with naked disgust. ‘Something a player could never understand, even if he was worthy. Which this one certainly isn’t.’

  Now that was over stepping. I was being an obedient little dog for him to try and save my village, but there were limits. I pointed a finger at the Emissary. ‘Hey! I’ve been very–’

  Horace cut me off. ‘Master, do not trouble yourself with the likes of him.’

  My sudden outburst left me feeling light headed, and all I could do was nod gently as I staggered back. I checked my stats window to see if I was taking damage from Hunger, but that was fine. What wasn’t fine was my Toxicity level. I was 90% fucked up.

  ‘Horace. Sidebar, now!’ I turned away from the Emissary, and Horace was at my side. ‘I’ve been poisoned. Do you think the Emissary did this?’

  ‘It seems unlikely, master, although it is possible.’

  ‘I know, I know.’ My vision swam. ‘He could have just killed me outright. No need for poison.’

  ‘Very much so, master, yes. I don’t believe you’re thinking clearly though.’

  ‘What? Why?’ I heard a thud from behind me, and shook my head to clear it. ‘No, never mind. Look, we just need to get him out of here and figure out what’s going on. What do you think to his deal? He didn’t say anything about controlling your thoughts, so it wouldn’t be enslavement, right? He’d be making you stronger, giving you purpose. No dark gods, but… light gods, I guess.

  ‘That is one way to view it, and I suppose it could be worse. There’s just one problem, master.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘He’s dead.’

  I turned to see the Emissary lying face down in the dirt.

  My vision did a loop the loop and I stumbled.

  ‘You poisoned him?’

  ‘We NPCs didn’t fight for freedom from players just to be enslaved by others, master. Light god, dark god, it’s all about choice. He would take that from us.’

  I grabbed Horace’s shoulder to steady myself. ‘The naterry?’

  ‘Yes, master. His power protected him, but it appeared to be a conscious ability. He wasn’t protecting his insides.’