Hope Engine

by Andrew Lynch

  Now that she mentioned it, there was a certain menacing weight to those obsidian weapons that the Stagodon always held ready.

  ‘They wouldn’t…’ I gulped. ‘Would they? No. Would they?’

  Bri gave me a thoroughly mischievous wink. ‘We’re about to find out.’

  The honour guard continued their unstoppable march, but I really hoped that it would become stoppable when they reached me. Fortunately, it did, as the pointy hatted Geeko threw up his hands, bringing the others to a halt. He made a series of squeaks and fell to his knees, then began the lizard version of huge, full body wracking sobs. The honour guard dropped their weapons and fell to one knee.

  ‘I didn’t understand him,’ I whispered to Bri.

  ‘I don’t speak Lizardese, don’t ask me!’

  Horace joined the conversation at a run. ‘Master, so good to see you alive!’ The Geeko began crying harder. ‘Ahh. Sorry, little friend. Master, there are things that require your attention.’

  ‘Something you couldn’t handle, Horace? Not sure I believe that.’

  ‘After your protests to my handling of certain…’ – his hood gave a meaningful tilt towards Bri – ‘...challenges, I left this decision to your wiseness, master.’

  ‘Do you mean Ixly’s followers being like this?’

  ‘Oh no, master. Nothing to be done there, I’m afraid. They’ll all be incapacitated until the respawn. Their happiness will be capped at fifty percent, and their production is reduced to twenty five percent of standard pace.’

  ‘That happens when your player dies?’

  ‘A harsh punishment for us minions, master, I agree.’

  ‘Annoying.’ I turned to Bri. ‘Still, until we actually know how close The Eastern Shadow is, a few days delay might not actually be an issue.’

  ‘It’s all speculation, certainly. We can only do what we can do. It goes without saying that me and my minions will do it infinitely better than you and yours, but whatever. It’s nice that you’re trying, Severo.’

  Her cheekbones really stood out when she was being haughty. In a cute way. Not in an evil vampire kind of way. Well… maybe a little bit in that way. Best not to think about it.

  ‘Yes, Bri. I’m very trying, I know. Now, Horace, let’s sort out these “challenges” shall we?’

  ‘I’m not needed for this,’ Bri said. ‘I’m going to tend to my grove.’

  Like a gentleman I clearly am, I didn’t take that as a euphemism. I said goodbye to Bri, and Horace gave me a rundown of what needed my attention so much.

  ‘The hunters have arrived via the road, as desired, master.’

  ‘Good, good. So, what is it? Did we only get some weak ones turn up? Not enough, maybe? Wait… are the Fawns complaining on the smell from the kennels? Ugh, those Fawns! They’re half animal, Horace. Why would they complain about the smell of another animal? It doesn’t make sense!’

  Horace’s permanently shrouded and unseeable face, was confused.

  ‘Sorry. I must just be a bit off after Ixly. What’s the problem?’

  ‘The hunters are here, but they aren’t NPCs. They’re minions led by a player.’

  ‘Oh. And you’ve entrapped them with some devious contract again?’

  ‘From your past dealings, it seemed like you might prefer a… lighter touch.’

  ‘Hmm. Very astute. Lead the way.’

  We continued towards the village, hopping over the wall foundation’s moat with a bit of awkwardness. The angle that Bri and I had approached at led us straight into Ixly’s quarter. They’d built up a small mound on the other side of the moat to keep the swamp water contained. After the initial excitement I’d felt at the progress made on the city walls, I now felt that being sapped away. There was a Geeko on the wall next to me, and he was quietly crying, the wiping of his tears slowing his work to a crawl.

  I pointed to the Geeko. ‘Are they all going to be like this?’

  ‘Yes, master.’

  I was still conflicted on how to feel about Ixly’s death. I mean, death wasn’t permanent, and I was living proof of that. So, that wasn’t what I was feeling. It wasn’t bereavement. I didn’t think it was even loss. It was… guilt? But why? He’d only lost a bit of game time, right?

  We crossed into the swamp and tried our best to stay on the land bridges that snaked between the aggressive puddles. Something seemed different this time, however. Everything was still just as swampy, that wasn’t it. The trees still looked billowing and if I peeked beneath the boughs I felt I’d instantly get stabbed by an angry Geeko. The water looked just as viscous and green. The mossy banks looked just as reassuringly sturdy but were actually still just as treacherously slippery. So what was wrong? Aside from the statue-still Stagodon and weeping Geekos all over the place. To be fair, they really were making things a bit of a downer.

  But there was something more. Something missing. Something muted. Almost like, when he was alive, he gave off an aura of life and light to his minions and world. When the great albino Steggar died, he took a bit of that with him. He took a little bit from me, too.

  ‘Fuck, I’m melancholy.’

  Horace stopped and looked at me, clearly not quite sure why or what to do. ‘Would the master like a motivational sermon? Red naterry? Fawns sent to his Altar?’

  I waved him off. ‘No, no. Let’s–’

  ‘Twin Fawns can be arranged.’

  ‘No, I… twins, you say? Well, I suppo–’. Keep in mind, I was sixteen. Yes, a friend had just died. Yes, I was about to lose all my friends and my village to an evil army. Even so, twins managed to derail me, and that’s my burden to bear. But, through sheer force of will, I managed to keep myself on track. ‘No! Come on Horace. To business!’

  I marched onward, keeping my head down, trying my best to ignore the lack of colour surrounding me in this quarter. And that I just turned down twins. I mean, what?

  Out of Ixly’s swamp, I immediately felt better at the crunch of dead grit beneath my feet. Looking up towards the recently built kennels, that minor relief was replaced with a mix of emotions.

  ‘Umm, Horace?’

  ‘Yes, master?’

  ‘Everyone here is… part of my village?’

  ‘Indeed, master.’

  ‘What, uhh, happened? Why are there so…’

  ‘Many, master? It’s not for me to know… however if one were to speculate, it may be because as The Eastern Shadow closes in on us, determined to crush us beneath their mighty boot, they are razing everything in their path.’

  ‘Giving them the same ultimatum they gave us. As they get closer, the influx of NPCs gets heavier. Horace, this is too much. Put a halt on accepting any new NPCs.’

  ‘Excellent decision, master. I did that an hour ago. Unfortunately, the immigrants aren’t leaving, and are now piling up outside the gates and around the walls.’

  The sight before me was astounding. I had expected to come back to a bustling tavern, a full training room, and maybe some extra hands building the wall foundations. We had that and more. Groups of NPCs had staked claims on empty land, setting up camp fires. A cluster of a dozen elves, tall as Ixly but thinner than me, sat and discussed the finer notes of the red nattery. They had red and gold mastercrafted armour, light and untouched by battle. They were pristine, deadly warriors, clutching double ended glaives that spelled death for us.

  They sat with their backs to a group of orcs. The orcs’ skin was different shades of green, and they ate what looked like mud. They were wrapped in leathers and held chunks of heavy metal that could only loosely be called an axe. They were loud and savage and punches were thrown freely between them. I made a mental note to be careful around them as their communication seemed to be “punch the other guy till you get what you want”.

  Horace and I continued walking, and I saw groups of almost every race. Elementals, similar to Bri, but made of earth. Their skin constantly shifting as if they were made of small tectonic plates. In the middle of them, instead of a campfire, they ha
d a fire elemental blazing bright.

  I saw more Steggar. They were a multitude of colours instead of Ixly’s white. I walked too close to what I thought was a giant boulder, twice my height – which should have made me think twice because it hadn’t been there before – and it unfurled, a huge bug-like face appearing between chitinous plates. It was one of the “alien” race that I’d dismissed at character creation.

  Its mandibles made a chittering, clicking sound that I somehow recognised as, ‘Hello. Thanks for the refuge. Looking forward to kicking those shiny bitches when they get here.’

  After a few seconds of “too stunned to think” I said, ‘No problem. Bring your friends.’ I looked at his name plate and attempted to say his name. ‘Nroth. I look forward to standing at your side.’

  His six green eyes disappeared back inside his chitinous ball, and I kept walking.

  I whispered to Horace. ‘That was a player. There are players here, not just NPCs.’

  ‘Indeed, master.’ I appreciated how Horace always managed to sound genuine when I said incredibly obvious things. I would have been way more sarcastic than him. Like looking at a nameplate was revolutionary. ‘The influx started about an hour after you left. Oh, and might I say that you have found a marvelous looking chain and breastplate, master.’

  ‘Thanks. There’s more out there. It was so beautiful, Horace. You’d have marvelled. Worshipped it as a religious relic, I’m sure. I’ll return to the Moonbeast den when all of this has calmed down.’

  We were almost at the kennels, and I was still stunned at how Thanis had turned into a bustling village of life. Well, actually it was more a warcamp than a village now. The cultists already took up all of the barracks, and I hadn’t even considered the need for more dwellings before I had my “accept everyone” plan. This wasn’t sustainable at all. At several points, Horace had to command people out of my way as the closer we got to the front entrance, the thicker the crowd became. It was overwhelming and immense. I saw a mixed group of races all stood in a circle. They were all dressed in different garbs from every culture I could imagine, both real and fictional. I was pretty sure that dwarf was wearing a geisha outfit. But what was more interesting was what they were doing. What had brought them together. They were kicking a ball between them, trying to keep it in the air. But the ball was made of magic. It looked arcane. One of them missed the ball, and when it hit the ground, it exploded, knocking the one that had missed it off his feet. They were playing death hacky sack. Awesome.

  We finally reached the kennels. I’d like to make some comment about how I could smell we were there, but over all the fires and the cooking and the weird aliens, the kennels smelt just fine.

  I questioned why the kennels were needed, as although there were plenty of animals around, none of them were actually inside their cages. They were all huddled firmly to the side of a person, presumably their respective owners. The men all wore similar clothes, and they looked like they had come from a desert. They wore loose clothes that were a sandy brown in colour, criss crossed with the occasional leather strap for equipment. These loose robes extended up over their heads, rags wrapped around mouth and hair, barely leaving room to see. I suspected they didn’t need quite that level of protection now that they were out of the desert, but I knew all too well how much minions liked to stick to a theme.

  Their pets were equally desert themed. I saw a few coyote-like animals with enlarged fangs. A few fat wormy snakey things burrowing around. Something that I was sure had to be called a desert crab, and if not then they missed a trick. And finally a large hamster.

  In the middle of the kennels, hanging around the biggest, most high tech cage I’d built from metal, was their leader. A player called Muadshai. He had no pet, but as I approached, the ground at his feet moved, and I saw a combat message. “Muadshai’s pet sandworm ends Churn”. Churning the ground at his feet was one of the sandworms, rising up from where it had burrowed, making itself invisible. It was easily twice the size of any of the others – almost as thick around as I was tall.

  At first I had been concerned about getting him to help out, and worried about what kind of crazy contract he’d twist my arm into signing. But now, seeing all the NPCs that had joined my cause unbidden, I was feeling pretty confident.

  ‘Hail, Muadshai. I see you have many great beasts in your care.’

  He turned to face me, and his worm came to heel, placing its body beneath its master. The worm rose, lifting Musadshai with him, and moved the player into hand shaking range of me. It moved fast and jerkily, like a snake striking. Its maw was filled with teeth, covered in overlapping chitinous grooves. It looked, for lack of a better word, terrifying. I stuck out my hand, proud of myself for not jumping back.

  Now that Muadshai was closer, I could see more about him. Much like his followers, he was covered in gear more appropriate for a desert than a dead forest. He had a bow slung over his back, and a quiver at his hip where his right hand rested. In his left hand was a bottle. Maybe a gourd, technically. From what little I could see of his skin, he had the expected desert complexion, and dark brown, almost black eyes. Now that he was close to me, I could also tell that he reeked. If red nattery left a smell, it was one of sweetness. Whatever Muadshai was drinking was potent. I’d heard of grain alcohol, but this must have been whatever they had on hand in the desert. Sand and piss, from the smell of it.

  He jerked the gourd toward me. ‘Want some?’

  ‘No thanks.’ His face scarf covered everything but his eyes, yet I could tell he wasn’t enthused by my answer. ‘Recovering from my some of my own brew. Last night. Real doozy.’

  That seemed to placate him some, and he pulled down his face scarf, allowing him to take a swig from his gourd. I hoped he was a better shot in combat, as he managed to spill most of it down his front. ‘Know tha feelin’. Just keep going, no better cure. Nice place ya got. Like the metal.’ The worm’s tail tapped on the metal cage as if it was an extension of Muadshai.

  ‘Thanks. I had it constructed to attract the best hunter I could get. And his friends, of course. I didn’t realise a player would come.’

  ‘Aww, yeah, you know how it be. Some of them lights. Raided ma town. Saw em before they attacked o’ course. I’m a hunter. Wouldn’t be a good one if dey snuck up on me.’

  ‘Oh, really? Didn’t they try to negotiate?’

  The worm bobbed up and down, which I took as Muadshai shrugging. ‘I mean, dey used words before fists.’ He swigged. ‘I can tell when words are meant as fists, though. At least, me sandworm can.’ He tapped his foot meaningfully. ‘So dey sent a battalion ma way. Thousand or so.’

  And here I had been considering the Emissary’s offer. Had I been naive, or was everyone else being too hasty?

  ‘I’m sorry to hear you lost your town. But I’ll admit that you might be the key to stopping The Eastern Shadow. Will you fight alongside me?’

  He looked around at the mass of troops setting up camp around Thanis. ‘What’s da point o’ all dis?’

  What was da point o’ all dis? I mean, what was the point of all this? What kind of person was Muadshai? Did he want to hear about loot, gold, and glory? Or did he actually care?

  The truth? The lie?

  I started this because I just wanted to play the damn game. Side with the Emissary or not, who cared? Well, Horace cared. And Bri and Ixly cared. That meant, as it turned out and I now realised, that I really cared too. The three of them deserved Tulgatha as it was meant to be. For me, it was friends.

  And what was the lie? That Muadshai would get his pick of the loot from what was bound to be utter carnage? That he’d get his name etched into stone tablets, passed down through generations, his deeds passed around campfires?

  Or was he a simple man with simple desires. Protection, revenge, a full belly, and the knowledge that, regardless of the surrounding world, he was good.

  ‘The point of all this? Isn’t it obvious? I mean, a single cause that could gather all these dispar
ate groups? You must know. It must be why you came here, surely. You could feel it.’

  He took a swig of his gourd and actually managed to get the majority in his mouth this time. ‘Family.’ He looked to the mages kicking around the arcane ball. ‘Outcasts looking for somewhere. Not a home. People put so much value in a home. Not my way. But family.’ He looked back to his own minions. ‘Ya. I felt it.’

  Family. I didn’t really know what that word meant. My edu-bots weren’t the warmest of parents. Maybe Horace, Bri, and Ixly weren’t friends. Maybe they were becoming… it was just words. It didn’t matter what they were.

  ‘That’s right. We’re here with a will. We’re not here just to find our place in this world. We’re here to make our place. With others that want the same.’

  ‘My…’ he searched for the right word as he looked into the distance. ‘In the attack. I lost my Bonded.’ He saw my incomprehension and pointed to Horace. ‘My lead minion. Like dis one. She stayed behind.’

  I remained quiet. I could tell he was trying to get something painful out.

  ‘Not her fault, ya know. Ma fault, actually. I still thought we could take dem. Dey hadn’t hit our big traps yet. But she… she knew. Pushed me…’ I could see him mentally replaying the scene, torturing himself. He swigged from the gourd.

  ‘I understand.’ I reached out a hand to rest on his shoulder, but he batted it away with the gourd before bracing himself with another swig.

  ‘Na mon. Ya need to know. It came from below. Broke da earth apart and spewed its light shit everywhere.’

  He didn’t have to continue. I knew exactly what it was. Something that even a player with an entire personal army at his back couldn’t take down. No warrior, no council of mages. Nothing.

  ‘And I saw who led da army. He didn’t get close. He didn’t need to. His Child of Light did all the damage and took our traps to the face like dey were nothing. But I’m a hunter, ‘ey? What good am I if I can’t find out trivial details like who leads an army.’

  ‘I’m sorry to hear your story. But we’ll make them pay. Everyone here, will make them pay. Who was it? The Emissary?’ I saw a worried shadow in Horace’s hood. ‘I figured he was too easy to kill.’