Chapter 25: [Spell: Plunder Memory]

A flash of light slashed the dusky quiet. Between two boulders, a neon yellow orb swirled, causing the boulders to bend behind its light. A rogue appeared, kneeling there.

[DarkNeon has come online]

A slim emberfur fox slithered out between the hide flaps of a tent. Vish wriggled around DarkNeon, whimpering.

“What happened to you, little guy?” she asked, noticing the missing tail and matted fur.

Vish dropped a circular stone in the dirt, nosing it toward DarkNeon’s boot. She bent to pick up the [Skipping Stone Kneecap]

“Well, this ain’t ideal,” she said to the fox. “You’re missing a tail and the Eld is missing his kneecap? Wasn’t he supposed to get a new one, anyway? Where’s Berem?”

Prior to searching, DarkNeon noticed unread messages in her inbox. There was one from Berem. “Alright, good,” she whispered to herself, then read: “Telemoon got the skeleton. I’m tracking, but Trojainous has a flying mount. Better assemble your crew and find him fast. -B”

“How is that possible?” she asked Vish. “C’mon, we gotta interrupt Medett again. Need the info.”

But Vish did not follow her. The fox whimpered and squirmed in the tent’s vicinity. “Berem issued you a ‘stay’ command? He’s worried.”

A swirl of dust and leaves kicked up near Berem’s tent boulders.

[Relja has come online]

“There she is,” said DarkNeon. “They got Eld. Prolly the Telemoon Spirit Mage. C’mon we gotta go interrogate Medett.”

“Nice to see you too,” said Relja, accompanying her.

But Medett was dealing with her ever-present line of questers and either did not notice their approach, or ignored them on purpose.

“Hey, what happened here?” DarkNeon asked her.

“There’s a line here,” said one adventurer.

“It’s a Light Rogue,” said another. “Musta blinded herself.”

“Stuff it,” said DarkNeon. Then to Medett, “Hello?”

A duel request flag dropped. “I said there’s a line, bro-ette. Either take a hike or fight me.”

Medett spoke: “Who seeks work here in Cloud River Canyon?”

“Hmm,” Relja tilted her head. “Maybe she’s a regular NPC right now?”

“Y’all are kinda dense, aren’t ya?” a third adventurer chimed in.

“Those who seek quests elsewhere might try to the North and West,” said Medett, gazing blankly in that direction. Then she surreptitiously glanced at Relja; “I’ve got no Spirit Mage tasks here today.”

“Huh?” DarkNeon frowned.

“I think she’s trying to act casual," whispered Relja. "So these guys don’t ask questions, right?”

“Ah,” DarkNeon clapped her on the shoulder. “Yes, quests to the North and West. Got it.” She winked at Medett.

“Get on outta here, you weirdos,” said the first adventurer, cancelling his duel request.

“We’re going to,” said Relja, aloof, “but not because of you. Just so you know.”

The duel flag dropped again, but DarkNeon and Relja ignored it.

“Flying is recommended for Northwesterly questers,” said Medett. “I’d go myself,” she said more quietly, “if I had a range extender gadget.” She gave them a significant look, then made a dismissive gesture.

“Don’t worry,” DarkNeon whispered to Medett, “I’ll ask Azzy about it.”

Medett grunted, then returned her attention to the impatient lineup.

“Should we find a flightpath?” said Relja. “The nearest balloon yard is pretty far. I can ride and fly with the help of spells, but Fizzu can’t fly more than two without a balloon basket.”

“There’s two of us.”

“But there will be three soon.”

“Mmm. Yeah. Alright,” said DarkNeon. “Soleus Mesa is your stomping ground. Lead the way.”

“When we’re up and out of here, you could shoot your laser thing, yeah?”

“Definitely. Installing a bone-boy finder was a stroke of brilliance if I do say so m’self.”

“K, let’s see,” said Relja, consulting her map. “We should head toward Dustwind Inn. We’ll catch a flight from there.”

“You know…” DarkNeon hesitated at the base of cliff face stair. “What do you make of Azwold’s Telemoon history?”

“He said it was only a couple of weeks, right?” Relja shrugged.

“Sure, but anyone with even a mild case of critical thinking skills understands what Telemoon is. You don’t need to join up to realize they’re screwed up.”

“I operate under the idea that life is how things are more so than how they were.”

“I agree, to a degree. I guess what I’m driving at is whether or not we should trust him. He makes bad choices, and now we know it.”

“We all make sketchy choices here and there, don’t we? We’re not pre-programmed like an NPC. But we can learn. A regular NPC can’t. Gotta take a few wrong turns to get clearer bearings sometimes, don’t you think?”

“Alright. I hear your points. You want to give him the benefit of the doubt for now?”

“Until he does something unacceptable, I’d say so yeah. Plus, Telemoon used to hide their shady side better, if I recall. His story is plausible. The important part is he had the guts to leave, right?”

“Right, sure,” said DarkNeon, motioning to the stair. “Okay, shall we then? Ladies first.”

Just as they reached the apex of the canyon’s cliff, Azwold appeared in a flourish of smoky purple shapes.

[Azwold has come online]

He jumped back in an instant. “Gah! Why would you be right on a cliff ledge? Jeez! Hey, where’s the Eld? I… I can’t summon him! Oh no…”

“Yeah,” DarkNeon climbed up between the two weathered stumps. “You might say that logging off and leaving your minion to the enemy was a bad choice. Curious, you might say.”

“Sleep depravation turns my mind to mush,” Azwold facepalmed.

“Well, you’re in luck, Mr. Mushy Brains,” said DarkNeon, posing with fists on her hips. “Looks like I’m the party leader!”

Azwold checked his tablet to confirm, then said, “You can pass it back anytime.”

DarkNeon looked to Relja, who shrugged.

“Nah, I’m good,” said DarkNeon, grinning. “I’m gonna be the boss for now. You like that? Look at me. I’m the captain now.”

Azwold /facepalmed again. “Fine, whatever.”

“Buckle up, Buttercup,” said DarkNeon. She brandished Yolo the Luminous Llama’s [Luminous Wheat & Bell Pouch] and summoned her.

“I see no lap belt,” he frowned. Then he searched his pockets, remembering he had loaned the Eld his [Gremlin Signal]. Azwold emitted a frustrated sigh.

Sitting high in Yolo’s saddle, DarkNeon retrieved her bright, prismatic tablet. She opened her Gem Craft menu. “As captain and navigator,” she said, chuffed, “I’m setting a course for whichever way the laser guides us.”

“No need,” said Azwold. “I know Alkali Hollow is where they went.”

“Because that’s where your quest line leads next?” asked Relja.

He nodded, casting skeptical glances between Yolo and Fizzu.

“You’re probably right,” said DarkNeon, lending a hand down to him. “Vish found this.” She gave him [Skipping Stone Kneecap]

“So, Trojainous has the [Eld Kneecap] even though we earned it?” he said, clutching the round stone hard. “Blasted cheater.” He accepted DarkNeon’s hand and climbed up behind her in the saddle.

“Not just his knee,” said DarkNeon. “The whole skele.”

“Okie dokie,” said Relja. “C’mon Fizzu, to Dustwind Inn.”

~<>*<>*<>~

“There’s one,” said Relja, pointing to a wispy flower. “They usually grow next to rocks.”

“Now’s not the time to wander around collecting Alchemy mats,” said Azwold.

“[Whisperleaf] is too useful to run out of,” said Relja, plucking two of its four leaves with a meticulous hand. “Gotta leave some so it can keep growing. Anyway, Medett gave me a new Herbalism quest. She’s looking for super rare mats, but can’t go get them, so I’m helping. Not sure where they grow so I hafta stay alert.”

“Ok, you have some whisperleaf now,” said DarkNeon. “Let’s mount back up. Dustwind Inn is close, but hoofin’ it is for the birds.”

“Yep, sorry!” Relja hummed. “Can’t pass up useful herbs. You wouldn’t leave a gem lying on the ground would you?”

“Fair,” she replied.

Then the wind shifted. Fizzu squawked, and the party noticed the scent of smoke on the breeze. Not the pleasant wafting of barbecue, but the dreadful odor of charred earth and burning buildings.

Without another word, they mounted up and continued on.

A growing unease followed them to the settlement. And it was justified. Dustwind Inn had been razed to piles of rubble and charcoal; withered structures of pine and adobe. No players, no NPCs, nobody. Just inhospitable desolation.

“How?” Relja had tears on her cheeks.

“When,” said DarkNeon, leaping from Yolo’s saddle. She dashed toward the crumbled inn to investigate.

“Why?” whispered Azwold. “Who benefits from destroying a remote tavern like this?”

“Someone who wants to keep others from using flightpaths, maybe?” Relja wiped her tears.

DarkNeon yelled at them to come. Azwold took Yolo’s reins, clopping through the ruined roads to her.

“Look,” said Relja, “they didn’t kill everything.”

A solitary Dust Dactyl snorted, chained to a pole. But there was no Flightmaster.

“Can we book a flight without paying an NPC?” said Relja.

Instead of wondering out loud, DarkNeon was already climbing onto the reptilian beast’s back.

“We can sit on it,” she said, “so that’s a start.”

Swiping a finger around on her tablet, she pressed several buttons. The Dust Dactyl screeched, unfolding its wings. They glimmered like dull trout skin.

“Ah, crust,” she said. “Looks like I’m off to somewhere. Your bird’s a two-seater, yeah?”

“I know the Mesa flightpaths pretty well,” Relja called to her. “Alkali Hollow is reachable from here, I think. I’ll cross my fingers for you!”

DarkNeon hollered as the beast took flight: “If I’m not there by the time you guys get there, look for my [Locator Beam]!”

“Winds guide you,” said Relja, waving and showing her crossed fingers.

“I guess I’m holding onto the llama’s reins for now?” said Azwold, un-summoning Yolo. “Your mesa strider can seat the both of us?”

“Mhm,” said Relja. She cast [Spell: Silverwind Song] and invited Azwold to join her atop Fizzu. “Hold on tight,” she said, weaving the words in between notes.

Rising above Dustwind Inn’s smoke, the air became gustier. Too loud to speak, they flew, guided by the fading melody of Relja’s spell.

~<>*<>*<>~

The blue flame braziers of the dungeon’s cliff ledge offered them nothing but a deeper sense of desertion. Fizzu landed and began preening the moment they dismounted.

The braziers flickered in the icy breeze.

“I don’t like this,” said Relja, pulling her [Moth Dust Robe] closer around herself.

“You’re right,” Azwold frowned. “He’s gotta know I’m following him. Are you getting trappy vibes?”

The yellow zap of DarkNeon’s beam flashed past them and into the mountainside. Though they were expecting it, the flash still surprised them. It confirmed that the Rogue was not nearby, but the Eld’s was.

“Looks like we’re doing this without her?” asked Relja.

Azwold nodded. “She’ll come. For now, we’re on our own.”

“At least they’ll be expecting someone for sure now,” said Relja with exaggerated exuberance.

“Not ideal, but I’m going in, regardless.”

“Me too.”

Azwold and Relja entered Alkali Hollow.

“Where’s the instance portal?” she whispered.

“There’s definitely something off,” said Azwold. He inspected a lumpy mound that turned out to be dead Salt Toads. “Maybe my link with the Eld put us into the same instance as Trojainous?”

“I mean, I’m glad it did, but aren’t you worried we’re acting according to Telemoon plan?”

“Yep. Can’t say I care, though. I aim to set Ralos straight.”

“Wanting to is one thing,” she said. “He’s not gonna be alone, is he?”

“Probably not,” Azwold held up a hand. “Quiet,” he whispered. “Can you hear talking?”

Relja froze, intent and listening. “Hmm. Maybe they don’t know we’re here?”

Consulting his tablet’s map, Azwold pointed down a corridor lit by feeble yellow torchlight. Relja nodded. Neither were stealth adepts, but they attempted to sneak along the dusty hallway nonetheless.

Peering around a stone corner with caution, Azwold took in the scene. Relja peeked over his shoulder. They listened.

“I heard about Stonesthrow Island, you know,” they heard Trojainous say.

“What a dirty rat,” Azwold whispered to Relja. “How the eff did he even steal my minion?”

“Not about the tower, of course,” said Trojainous. “That news escaped the island somehow. I mean that you and Azwold were working with kobold-kin. Isn’t that right, Eld?”

“What’s that on Eld’s sternum?” said Relja.

“I see it,” said Azwold, noticing the device attached to the Eld’s animation source. “Looks like it’s broken. Maybe Ralos’ control isn’t total.”

“The game itself disapproves of Telemoon meddling,” they heard the Eld reply.

“Nonsense!” Trojainous screamed. “Ahem,” he straightened his cloak’s collar. “What has Azwold learned? Tell me now. How does he control enemy mobs?”

The Eld turned his skull away.

“Or…” Trojainous stroked his smooth chin. “Is it you? Mostly unscathed by a Caustic Cube? Unharmed by the Molar Soldier? I truly must study you in much, much greater detail, mustn’t I? Vick5! W3dge! Restrain him.”

“What’s our move, then?” asked Relja. “We’re outnumbered here.”

“I can’t believe I’m wishing for a Light Rogue right about now.”

“Gotta assume we’re on our own for the moment,” said Relja, maintaining a whisper.

“You see the one he called Vick5? The one with the Gadget Craft framework backpack-looking thing? He almost quit the guild when I did.”

“Does that do us any good now?” she said.

“It might,” said Azwold, tapping his triangular soul-patch stubble. “On a couple occasions, Vick5 said something strange to me; he thinks Telemoon gives science a bad name. At least he used to think so.”

“It’s still two versus five. Six if you count the Eld.”

They noticed then that one of the Telemoon men was holding a strange horn-shaped device up to his ear. He pointed in their direction, casting Trojainous a glance.

“You might as well come on out,” said Trojainous. “You’re so predictable, Azwold.”

“The [Locator Beam] was a nice touch, too,” said W3dge, chuckling a deep rumble.

“Don’t worry,” Azwold whispered to Relja, “I have a plan forming.”

“Um...care to share?” asked Relja, anxious. “I can’t actually hit anyone with my [Four Winds Staff]. It’s more of a stat stick than a weapon, you know.”

“No time. Come on,” he said, stepping out from behind the bend of cavern wall with hands upraised.

~<>*<>*<>~

My relief at Azwold’s predictability matched my captors’ twisted delight. Azwold had no way of knowing how I had fared with the Molar Solider, that I had hidden knowledge. His boldness despite this was inspiring, if not foolhardy.

As Vick5 and W3dge twisted the ghostly Gnarlroot twig simulacra around my bony wrists, Trojainous returned to his talking, tones of triumph leaking through.

“It’s almost like you never left Telemoon,” said Trojainous, “what with all the inadvertent help you’ve been providing me, dearest friend.”

“I’m not your friend, pal,” Azwold said.

“It stung when you removed me from your friends list, you know,” said Trojainous. “I thought our ties were stronger than that.”

“So…” said Azwold, “it really is you hiding behind this alt?”

“Do I look hidden?” Trojainous consulted his party members, looking from face to face.

“The evidence suggests you’re as visible as any other player,” said Vick5, peering through his [Identify Lens].

“Why would you go back to this filthy cult, Ralos?” said Azwold with a forced calm.

Trojainous stood still and silent a moment, then said, “The Mentalist Troika, in their excessive analytical ability, deemed it wise to accept my application for re-admittance. Surely you don’t doubt their calculations?”

“Tell me why.”

“I want to be on the winning side. It’s not as complicated as anything else, my friend.”

Azwold scoffed.

“Have you sacrificed all your INT for WIS?” said Trojainous.

“Meta game?” Relja interjected. “What’s the point of being smart if you can’t tell right from wrong, dude?”

“Let us talk meta game, then,” Trojainous offered her a slimy grin. “Realms of Lore will be converted from a fantasy game to a technology-based one. It’s only a matter of time. The forces at play here are so far beyond what your tiny minds can conceive of. I may as well stop trying to explain.”

“You better not stop,” Azwold growled.

I noticed that one of my captors, the one called Vick5, was stealing glances at Azwold. And Azwold at him. It occurred to me that they were in some kind of silent dialogue. The Telemoon player winced imperceptibly at Trojainous’ maledictions. I recalled the mage mentioning that some of his former guild mates were not true Telemoon loyalists.

I watched carefully for an opening to present itself.

“Oy!” W3dge grunted. “You keep forgetting you’re on probation.” He ignited a sparking rod. “Stop telling people guild business.”

Trojainous, put his hands up. “Right you are, big fellow.” He turned back to Azwold. “If you want to know more, you’ll just have to submit an application to rejoin like I did.”

“Never,” said Azwold.

“I figured,” Trojainous shrugged. “What shall we do with you, then?”

“Give me back my minion and get out of my sight. That’d be a good start.”

“Well, no.” he replied. “If we’re not friends any longer, then I’m afraid our relationship must graduate to an adversarial kind.” He turned to his party. “Azwold and anyone foolish enough to party with him are an explicit threat to Telemoon interests. Dispose of them, please.”

Relja began singing a soft spell I did not recognize, and Azwold hefted the [Hive Scepter], casting something himself.

Dust rose from the dry cavern floor, obscuring the dungeon’s torchlight. In an instant, I felt myself compelled to move forward. The broken device attached to my animation source had not lost all of its control yet. I resisted, but could only slow my approach.

A hand grabbed me. “Is it true you can control enemy mobs?” came a voice. I turned to look and saw the face of Vick5 shifting through Relja’s [Spell: Dust Ruse II]. Deciding I had no better alternative, I told him of a hidden exploit. The explosive one.

“This might be a miscalculation,” he said to me, “but remaining with Telemoon when Azwold left might have been a bigger one. I will take action now.”

And then I saw Azwold, his scepter shedding its neon grey glow. I was approaching him, but not of my own accord. The one called W3dge had Azwold’s free arm in a clamp device. The other two Telemoon goons assisted with the mechanical binding, immobilizing the mage.

Relja came near, but W3dge batted her to the ground with a hydraulic gauntlet. There was no cry. Prone and stunned, her wind was knocked out of her.

When [Spell: Dust Ruse II] ended, Trojainous stood before Azwold.

“I hate to do this,” he said, “in a way. But I’m going to do it, anyway.”

Trojainous held up his dull silver tablet and poked the screen. A dialogue box appeared, large and neon purple, visible to all in the room.

[Are you sure you want to destroy your [Bone Scythe]? Taking this action will alter your Spirit Mage class designation.]

“I won’t need it anymore,” was all he said before clicking [YES] without hesitation.

The [Bone Scythe] dematerialized into a lavender ectoplasmic mist. The mist encircled me, seeped into me, possessed me.

“Now cast [Spell: Plunder Memory]!” he squealed. “I demand it!”

To my horror, I obeyed his will. My finger vines twined outward, creeping toward Azwold’s head. Resolute disgust marred his face.

“Traitor,” he said. And I knew he meant Ralos, not I.

Then my finger vines wriggled under his jaw and behind his ears, up and over his forehead and under his dreadlocks. One runner glanced the grave iron binding a lock, smoking and fizzling. But no matter.

The life drained from my player’s eyes. His avatar fell to the cavern stone, then exploded like a colony of plum-colored bats, fluttering and frantic. Then Azwold vanished in a haze of evaporated purple mist.

“Aaand… deleted,” said Trojainous. “Moving on.”

I continued to watch, not wanting to believe I had done such a deed, and I saw what others may have missed. The purple tendrils of my former master leaked into the [Hive Scepter] as it clunked to the ground.

Without a preponderance of time to unpack what had happened, a novel sensation overwhelmed me. If leveling up was invigorating, this feeling dwarfed it. Game code looped through unprecedented digital gymnastics. It was unlike leveling up, unlike gaining a quest bone. It was unlike a re-designated Gremlin. It was unlike anything.

My power had increased, but I sensed the game struggling to reconcile my status as a non-minion. There was a freedom flowing into my bones and vineworks. My bees were a-twitter.

“I will be filing a formal complaint with the Mentalist Troika,” said Vick5.

“What?” said Trojainous, whose class designation was currently blank.

“But first,” said Vick5, producing a [Vial of Liquid Nano-Bots] potion, “consider this my guild resignation.”

The Chemist flung his bottle at an unassuming spot near a doorway. A frizzle of techno-sorcerous goo splattered the wall. A cascade of sparks popped like a firework; the nano-bot liquid squiggled into the wall, etching glitchy neon lines at spastic right angles, permeating the coding there.

A progress bar appeared.

[Error, regressive patchwork unravelling. Unknown event impending. Alkali Hollow instance resetting in 20 seconds]

But the progress bar on whatever strange hack Vick5 had employed only read 10 seconds.

“What have you done?” W3dge said, dumbstruck.

“Apologies, guild mate,” said Vick5, setting his hands in the shape of a T like a time-out signal. Then to me: “Run.”

Trojainous and the rest of his party quavered like tinsel in a glitch storm. The sight transfixed me for a moment. A wall materialized as the dungeon map re-oriented itself. The corridor faded from view.

The exploit had trapped our foes in an out-dated wing of the dungeon.

With few seconds on the progress bar, I snatched up the [Hive Scepter]. And with a strength that confused me, I grabbed up Relja by the waist and ran for the exit.

The explosion came. A concussive blast heaved my bones outside Alkali Hollow’s ruined cave mouth. I flew out over the dark expanse of mesa.