“And you think by going to this place - this Kol Thom tower - you will find answers?”

“Not sure.”

The two sat there, side by side, drinking hot tea. Through the tavern’s window, they could see across the street to where the mercantile still smoldered. There was a rumble at the edge of town. A promise of more rain. The few NPCs still out at the late hour hurried along outside. Just beyond the destroyed building, a few spellcasters practiced their art, standing in the large doorway of their sect’s stone keep. A rogue came down the block, his face was hidden under a waterproof hood. He spied them in the window and continued on his way.

“Your journey is a short one, albeit not without peril.” Grandeur didn’t look at her, instead focused on the soggy tea-leaves draw across his part of the table. “Boats leave from Everstood to Everhollow regularly, though, this storm makes travel grim by any boat.”

Kitano sipped her tea. It was bitter.

“Should you follow the Hogg-road through the foothills,” he spread the leaves with a finger. “There you will encounter pit-beasts whose practices on adventurers are not for the faint-hearted.” He hummed to himself and looked back over to her.

“What about teleporting?” she asked. Across the way she could see the familiar uniforms of two Crimson Circle mages play, creating light orbs.

Grandeur raised an eyebrow. “I’d thought you were too iron-willed to be taken by such practices.” Sniffing, he turned to watch the mages himself. “Sorcery is an unrefined magic.”

“I wouldn’t have found you again without them,” she mumbled. When Grandeur turned a raised eyebrow to her, she looked over to Juice and whispered, “Don’t jot that down.”

Juice, for all he was good for, hovered by Kitano’s side. By her request, the AI was taking notes of the whole encounter, like some glorified quest journal.

What I would give to have a quest journal right now. Part of the game’s menus, it kept an automated log of various quests given to the player during their adventure.

Coming back down the street, the hooded-rogue stopped outside the tavern again and looked at both of them. Caught by their gaze, the rogue kept walking, but it was evident he’d taken some interest in them.

“We both should be off,” Grandeur said. “My failure here will soon catch up with me.”

Kitano slid off her stool. “What was all that about?” she lowered her voice. “Do you suppose that man is after you? What were those books anyway?”

“Don’t get distracted by his obvious hook.” Juice gave a snide look at the wizard. “The guy’s a quest-giver, don’t you forget. If you’re getting out of here, you’ve got to go your own way.”

“The books were but an offering,” Grandeur whispered.

The tavern smelled of varnish. A small building, there were no other patrons about. A fire in the hearth crackled, hungry for more wood. The bartender looked up as they stood from the table.

Grandeur found his thick robe from the hook by fire.

I’m barely dry, Kitano thought miserably. It’s bad enough I’m not even wearing something comfortable. She’d come dressed in the same digitized clothing she started with; any avatar could do just the same, but anything imported would be given a zero rating as an item. Synchronized in the 90 percentiles, she experienced life-like responses to the simulation. The rain was cold, heavy, and wet.

“You wouldn’t have anything for sale? To wear?” she asked the bartender. For his kind, the NPC was notoriously understocked, but it was worth asking.

Just then the tavern door cracked open, and in from the storm came the hooded rogue. Thunder rumbled a warning, and the storm picked up.

“Excuse us,” Grandeur said, nodding at the newcomer. “Looks like you’ve got the place to yourself. We were just leaving.”

The rogue closed the door behind him. “I’m not here to drink,” the rogue said. “We need to talk.”

Grandeur slipped a hand around the hilt of his sword. The bartender lowered defensively behind the counter. Kitano forgot her misery and took a step forward.

The rogue pulled down the hood, revealing herself to be a young woman. Her eyes shot a threatening look to Grandeur and then glanced over to Kitano, who sighed in relief. Any tension the rogue gave her at first was gone. Though her methods were a little awkward, the rogue’s beautiful face was disarming.

“What do you want?”

“How did you do it?” the rogue sputtered. She pointed a finger at Juice. “Was it the console? Is there a menu that is working now? Tell me, you’re like me. Aren’t you? I could tell by the… clothing.”

Kitano’s jaw dropped. “You’re one of the biobakes who’s stuck,” she marveled aloud. “I never thought I’d run into one of you.” Herald of Tomorrow was known for the massive, procedurally-spawned world. Even when the game hit maximum capacity, players often had to seek one another out.

The rogue pulled a knife from her belt. “Tell me,” she bit out. “You don’t know who I am, do you? It’s very important you tell me!”

“Tell you what? Oh, put the knife away,” Kitano snorted. “What are you going to do? Stab me?”

The rogue’s face pinched in disgust. “I had over 9,000 streamers watching me. Since everything shut down, I can’t reach them. And if they can’t watch me, then they might unsubscribe. That can’t happen. You understand? This has got to end.”

“Juice here is just an overlay,” Kitano said. “An AI bot I brought in here with me.” She hadn’t considered why Juice’s connection still worked but declined to say anything more. It did her no good to jinx one of the few things she had.

“AI assistant, eh?” The rogue licked her lips. “I need him. He’s got to go back and see if the streamers are still there, you follow?” She stepped forward, knife still up.

“Take another step forward, and I’ll draw iron,” Grandeur said.

“If your streamers are watching, do you think they’ll like seeing you stab another player?” Kitano asked.

“This here is Grandeur the Wizard, isn’t it?” She turned back to Kitano. “They don’t watch me for violence. I’m not that type of girl,” she scoffed, but she lowered the weapon.

Kitano pursed her lips. “What good will it do when I respawn?”

The rogue hesitated. “You don’t know, do you?”

“Know what?”

The rogue slipped the knife back into the sheathe on her hip. “Menus aren’t working and the console doesn’t come up,” she said. “When everything first went down, a few of us streamers kept on playing, only…” she stopped. “When one of us got mangled, the body didn’t drop loot and disappear.”

“Then what happened?” Less the player could be saved by another, getting sent back to their set spawn location was standard practice.

The rogue shrugged. “Dunno. But I do understand they stay online. Me and a couple of others figure they’re stuck like that too. Trapped in the dark and unable to respawn.”

Gooseflesh crawled up Kitano’s back. Juice turned toward her, as though his display could give her a knowing look.

“Things just got difficult,” she sighed. “Wonderful…”

Grandeur spoke up. “Ms. Kit has only explained so much to me… But if I may ask, you mentioned there are others such as yourself and she?”

“That’s right,” the rogue answered. “They’re hold up, waiting for some miracle, just a little away north of here.” She laughed. “Stupid buggers. What about you? Are you playing? Or surviving?”

Kitano recounted version of events, summarizing her supposed involvement in what happened. Her story omitted the identity of Stephan Rose, her conversation with Crooks, as well as the particularities of Grandeur’s return.

Grandeur ordered a drink, sipping slowly to hide his face. The NPC seemed guarded when Kitano spoke of any mention of his death and rebirth.

“… I know from my work on the game that there is an AI in Everhollow,” Kitano explained, not choosing naming Herald AI himself. “Since the storm is not letting up, I guess going up through the foothills is my only option.”

“An AI in Everhollow? News to me.” But the rogue seemed to trust her tale. “Too bad you are not a member of the Myth Makers Guild, although… I don’t suppose they’re very active right now.”

Grandeur looked to Kitano before answering. “The Myth Makers? They’re good folk.”

The Myth Makers were an old guild of players. “It would be nice, but I don’t suppose they’re playing right now,” Kitano mused.

“Quite the contrary,” the rogue said. “It may not appear anyone is home, but believe me when I say the guild hall on Magus Tower is still quite operational.”

“How do you know?”

The rogue crossed her arms. “I just left there myself. Moderator Evers is looking into the maintenance lock as we speak.”

Moderator Evers is still online? Founding developer Martin Evers, for lack of a better term, lived and breathed Herald of Tomorrow. In the early days of the game, his moderation helped keep the peace, that was, until Herald AI came into full function.

“I shouldn’t be surprised,” Kitano said. “Did you say he’s working on a fix?”

“Not in any official capacity.”

If there’s anyone who could help, maybe Evers is the one… “Maybe I’ll check the guild out,” answered Kitano. “Will you come with us?” she asked the rogue.

“Come with you?” she jeered. “As daring as it may sound, it’s hardly something people want to see. I’m Bellarouse, and if my 9000 streamers are watching still, then I’m going to keep on entertaining them.”

“If we should climb Magus Tower, then I would suggest we start soon,” Grandeur said, rising from his seat. “The Myth Makers hall is a long climb.”

“Thank you for your help, Bellarouse.” Kitano extended her hand.

“I only ask one thing. A favor, as your overlay AI is unable to help me.” When she shook Kitano’s hand, she pressed a smooth object into her hand. “Deliver it to my streamers.”

“Hold on now,” Grandeur warned.

“No, it’s fine.” With a gesture, Kitano quieted the wizard. “This is a data packet?”

Bellarouse nodded. “If your AI would activate it on the surface, a message could get out to my streamers…”

Juice turned to glance at the data packet in Kitano’s hand. “I detect nothing odd about it.”

Kitano nodded. “Then it will be done.”