Petals led the way to the exit from the safe area, with Greta on her heels. Ash peeked a pseudopod over the rim of the vase he occupied, carried by the Pink Wizard in the crook of her left elbow. The door to the game play area waited before them.

“Here, take your flashlight, Ash.” Petals turned it off and placed it in the vase, which weighed heavier for but a moment before the Healer stashed the item in his inventory.

Darkness enveloped them. “I can’t see,” said Greta. “What’s with turning off the light?”

Petals pushed the door open, and the three passed through into a convention hall illuminated by overhead fluorescent lights. The solar eclipse hadn’t doused electric illumination. A look back verified the door they’d just used wasn’t visible from this side. There was no going back to the safe area from here.

Convention-goers dressed as their favorite fictional characters filled the hall. Everyone present was likely a non-player character, an NPC, since all the PCs had already gone through this introductory scenario. A passing teenage black girl with a curly black bob stopped when she spotted Petals, and gave her a wink. “Nice outfit.” The girl wore a short, pleated blue sailor skirt and a white top with a tie at the bottom hem suspended above an exposed navel. A matching white and blue backpack hung by a single strap on one shoulder. “But who are you?” Meaning to ask, of course, what fictional character was Petals dressed as?

“Thanks! My name is Petals. The outfit is one of my own invention. Your outfit is nice. Did you make it?” She knew the answer, having programmed it, but the question would cause the artificial intelligence algorithms of the NPC to engage. The NPCs in the game world were statically programmed to an extent, with the majority of their behaviors relying on AI and machine learning, but only after being triggered by an interaction with a PC.

“Glad you like it,” said the girl with a smile. “But, no, I didn’t make it. I bought it online.” She gave a slight wave. “I’m Cherri, a Priestess of Luna, the Moon Goddess.”

There was no Priestess class in Darkentide—not one with any assigned skills or powers. This NPC was filling a role as a convention attendee, pretending to be a character from some fictional world she was a fan of.

“Nice to meet you, Cherri.” Petals lowered her voice in a conspiratorial manner. “Have you seen anything out of the ordinary recently?”

The teen girl’s eyes widened. “Did you see it, too? I thought I was imagining it.” She glanced at a large screen suspended above the middle of the convention hall floor. The screen was blank. “I swear the screen flashed the number 189. In the loop of the nine, there was this eyeball with a slitted pupil, like a snake’s. It looked around, like it was searching for something. Totally creepy. Do you know what it was about?”

That wasn’t the response Petals had expected.

“Damn,” said Ash.

“Oh, wow,” laughed Cherri, pointing at the ashen pseudopod poking over the rim of the vase. “Talk about being out of the ordinary. Did you make that, too, Petals? How do you make it talk? Is there a button you push somewhere? Is it battery operated?”

“Yeah, a button and batteries,” Petals said, not wanting to say more. “Would you happen to have a convention program? With a map of where the rooms are?”

“Sure.” Cherri handed over a square of folded paper. “Do you think 189 is a room number?”

“Duh,” said Greta, examining her fingernails.

The self-proclaimed Moon Priestess flashed a smile at the Green Warrior and rolled her eyes.

Petals spread the map out on a nearby table. A quick perusal located conference room 187, but not 189. She looked around the hall to get her bearings. “Come on.” She folded the paper. “You mind if I keep this, Cherri?”

The girl cocked an eyebrow. “Something special is happening, isn’t it? You can keep the program, but only if I can come with you.”

“No,” said Ash. “Too. Dangerous.”

“Oh, that is too cute,” said Cherri. “But it needs something. Do you mind?” Not waiting for an answer, Cherri pulled out a blue-and-white-attired doll with frizzy black hair and black-tinted sunglasses. She tugged, and the hair came off, a doll-sized wig. “Here, let’s make your fellow a little more attractive.” She slid the wig onto the top of the gray pseudopod. “I hope it will stay.” She removed the sunglasses before returning the bald doll to her backpack. “Here we go.” With a giggle, she placed the sunglasses on the pseudopod, pressing in the handles to secure the glasses. She looped some frizzy strands of wig hair around the handles. “There, that will help keep everything in place.” The girl stepped back to admire her handiwork. “You look dope, little fellow.” She glanced to Petals. “Does he have a name?”

“Ash,” said the pseudopod.

Cherri clapped and giggled. “You look dope, Ash.”

“Thanks.”

The teenager squealed. “I just love you, you little raven-haired gray thing.”

“Aw. Shucks.”

Greta harrumphed. “Does this mean she’s going with us, little raven-haired gray thing?”

“Okay. Sure.”

Cherri pumped a fist. “Yes.”

“This is Greta, by the way,” Petals said with a gesture towards the Warrior.

“You can call me Green if it’s easier for you,” said Greta.

Cherri nodded. “Hey, Green.”

The large screen in the middle of the hall flared to life, displaying the number 189 in a large script font, silver engraved on a black background. A reptilian eye looked through the loop of the nine, as Cherri had described. It glanced wildly about until its gaze fell on Petals. It locked on her. The phrase, Come now, flashed beneath the number, and then the screen went blank.

Holding her broadsword up with one hand, Greta held her other hand up too, palm up. “Are we going?”

“Yes,” said Ash.

“I think we have to,” said Petals. “Whoever it is knows we’re here now, but they aren’t coming to us, apparently. I get the feeling they’re on our side, but they’ve found a safe place and don’t want to leave it. So we go to them.”

“Or they want you to think that, but it’s really a trap,” Greta said. “I have this inherent distrust of anyone with eyes like serpents.”

A group of four sneering teen boys approached, wearing pirate hats and coats and carrying scimitars Petals hoped were fake. They pointed their scimitars at Petals and in unison cried, “Attack the flower head!” In lock step, they charged, leading with their scimitars.

Cherri held up a hand, palm facing the boys like a traffic cop. “In the name of Luna, the Moon Goddess, I command you stop!” She was clearly playing the role of Priestess, even though she couldn’t possibly have any skills in a class that Justine and Alfie, as the developers of the game, never programmed. They hadn’t wanted gods and goddesses in Darkentide, and thus had gone with a Healer class over that of Cleric, Priest, or Priestess.

Nevertheless, the four boys halted as instructed. They assessed the girl who’d commanded them.

“Let me See you for who you really are.” Petals brandished her staff, using it to focus her spell, directing it at the group of four.

Their eyeballs turned pure black.

“They’re possessed. Come on.” Petals grabbed Cherri by the arm. Headed for room 187 as marked on the convention program map, hoping 189 was next to it, Petals hurried across the hall towards an intersection, with Cherri in tow and Greta bringing up the rear.

With howling laughter like a wolf pack eager for a kill, the boys gave pursuit, moving faster than Petals and friends. The closest one swiped at Greta.

With what appeared to be a choreographed dance move, the Green Warrior dodged the scimitar and swung her broadsword beneath the boy’s guard. Green sparks erupted from the gash she left in his thick overcoat. The blackness fled his gaze, and he staggered, dropping his weapon as he bumped into one of his comrades, who in turn bumped into another. The fourth boy rounded his fumbling pals, thrusting his curved blade at Greta. She batted it aside with a sneer. “You’re pathetic.” She stabbed him in the gut. Green fire spewed from his wound. The blackness left his eyes, and he, too, dropped his weapon as he staggered from the blow.

“That’s some amazing special effects!” Cherri yanked free of the Pink Wizard’s grasp. “Your weapons look so real.”

The remaining two boys with black-filled eyes charged at Cherri, scimitars swinging.

Boldly standing her ground, the Moon Priestess crossed her arms in an X-pattern. “Moon Defense.”

As a scimitar descended on the teen girl, Petals jumped forward, parrying the blade with her staff. There was no power in the game called Moon Defense. A weapon with weight, the scimitar knocked her staff down, the boy having more strength than Petals. Unable to stop the descent of the blade, the Pink Wizard deflected it aside. It missed its target.

The last assailant attacked the Moon Priestess from the other side. Neither Greta nor Petals were in a position to intervene. With a gurgling war cry, Ash propelled himself from the vase, a flying gray foot-long tuber adorned with raven hair and sunglasses. Reacting reflexively, the attacker jumped back, his blade swishing through the air an inch from Cherri’s bare belly button.

But the boy hadn’t moved far enough, and Ash landed on his leg, wrapping around his ankle. “Oust,” cried the ashen sausage link.

Dropping his scimitar, the boy staggered as the blackness lifted from his gaze. “What the hell? What’s happening?” He looked at Ash, his pupils growing. “Get off me, turd.” He shook his leg, flinging Ash towards Petals.

The last boy still sporting eyes of pure blackness pressed the attack against the Pink Wizard, who defended the best she could with her staff, managing to prevent the scimitar from landing a blow on her or Cherri.

The Moon Priestess pointed at the weapon-wielding boy. “Again, I command you in the name of Luna, Goddess of the Moon, stop your attack. Now.”

The boy bared his teeth like they were fangs and laughed.

Greta drove her bastard sword into his ribcage. The tip of the blade protruded from the other side of his chest. He exploded into a shower of green sparkles. His scimitar and other possessions disappeared with him, but a coin worth 10 Gold fell to the floor where he’d stood. Greta snatched it up. “Ah ha. Treasure.” It vanished from her grip as she added it to her funds.

The other three boys, their eyes clear of the blackness, made haste to vacate the vicinity, leaving their scimitars where they’d fallen.

Cherri stepped forward, her gaze moving from Greta’s face to the spot where the boy had died and back. “I could have sworn he was real. Was he a hologram? That’s awesome. How did you know? Were the other three boys real, or were they holograms?”

Greta twirled her sword in one hand. “I can make you explode, too, if you like.”

Cherri took a step back. “Um, I’m a real person, okay? Just so we’re clear on that.”

With a shake of her head, the Green Warrior turned to Petals. “Must we really put up with this NPC tagging along? She doesn’t even realize that’s what she is.”

Petals shook her head in return. “We programmed the NPCs to not be fully aware of their status as NPCs. Lends more of an air of realism to the game, don’t you think?”

Ash slinked like an inchworm across the floor to a fallen scimitar. “Prepare,” he said.

“What are you doing, Ash?” Petals readied her staff as instructed.

“Get. Ready.” He inched onto the hilt. “Oust.”

A black ghost rose from the scimitar’s blade. A shadow monster. Was it level five thousand? It didn’t seem likely, if Ash’s level one skill could exorcise it. So the levels of shadow monsters unleashed by Alfie's script ranged from one to five thousand. They weren't all of them level five thousand. That was a relief.

“Oh, wow and double wow.” Cherri strode towards the scimitar. “This is so freaking fabulous. The greatest convention ever.”

The shadowy ghost flew towards the Moon Priestess. She laughed as she X’ed herself. “Moon Defense.”

Confident that what Cherri was doing had no actual power behind it, Petals aimed her staff at the speeding ghost. “Zap you, you fiend!” Lightning shot from the end of her staff, bathing the ghost in electric arcs. The specter stopped mid-flight, writhing and screeching a foot away from the black curls on Cherri’s head.

The teen girl didn’t back away. “Yeah, take that, you miserable wretch.” She reached towards it, but paused just shy of touching it. “Such awesome effects. I mean, that exploding boy…. He seemed so real, I was almost believing for a moment you actually hurt someone, Green. But then he exploded. Unbelievable. Is this thing going to explode? Should I step away?”

With a final screech, the ghost gave up the ghost and imploded on itself, shrinking into a black dot. The dot vanished. Blue electric arcs sizzled in the air for a second, and then they, too, faded from sight.

“Wait till I tell my friends what they missed this year.” Cherri pointed at the scimitar from which the shadow monster had been expelled. “Can I have that?”

Ash crawled off it. “Sure.”

“Oh, wow. Thank you so much.” The girl slid the blade of the scimitar through a loop on her backpack.

The Gray Healer inched to the next closest of the fallen scimitars. “Again.” He and Petals did the same routine twice more, ridding all three scimitars of the spirits possessing them. Ash put the last two weapons in his inventory. “Everyone. Okay?”

“I’m good.” Greta looked around for other signs of trouble. “We best get a move on.”

“Me, too.” Petals squatted beside Ash, holding the vase near him. “All good.”

He hopped inside. “Thanks.” He returned to his position of peering over the rim, his top end still adorned with the frizzy black wig and black-tinted sunglasses.

Cherri briefly cupped her hands over her nose. “I’m having the best time. Are we off to room 189 now?”

“We are.” Petals led the way. White text flashed in the lower left corner of her vision. Encounter ended. XP to 2nd: 50%. She was halfway to level two Wizard.