The world was growing lighter as the two made it to the gates of Calson. Morgan recognised the guard on duty, but couldn’t recall his name. The guard waved at the pair, welcoming Morgan by name, and holding out a hand to stop Dillan.
“Our boy Morgan here is a labourer with the baron, but you’ll have to pay the fee to get in I’m afraid. It’s 15 silvers. What’s your business here?”
Dillan frowned as he produced the coins from his satchel. “I’m here because... Well, I’m a tourist, I guess.”
The guard looked quizzically at the runner. “A tourist? You mean someone who travels just to see things?”
Dillan nodded gravely. “Yup. That’s me.”
The guard nodded and shrugged slightly. “As long as you cause no trouble it’s no business of mine. Carry on.”
The pair headed in through the gateway and Morgan led them towards the inn. When they were a distance from the gate, Dillan spoke softly,
“The gate fees are getting pretty aggressive. Gate fees were unheard of when I first started playing. It’s that Eleos guild. I’ve seen them at it. They take over a settlement and impose taxes on everything. The gate, the food, the inns, the goods. The price of everything in the safe zones have skyrocketed in the last year.”
Morgan looked up sharply when the Eleos guild was mentioned. “Eleos, they’re the ones who I’m working for. My contract. It’s with them.”
Dillan nodded. “I’ve a few theories about what they’re trying to do. Looks like it mainly revolves around greed. Is this the inn? Excellent. You better go look to recovering your things. I’ll be fine from here, and I’ll catch you when you get back, OK?”
Morgan nodded; the anxiety that had been muted, almost forgotten while he travelled with the runner suddenly flared back.
“That’s a good point. I’ll catch up with you soon.”
With this, he ran back out of the gate, and northwards into the forest.
It took him an hour longer to get to the spot where he’d died. The early morning light cast long shadows among the rocks. He approached cautiously, his stick held tightly in his hands, peering about for any sign of the golem. As he got closer, he spotted an incongruous pile of rubble and froze. He could hear his heartbeat pounding in the silence of the forest. After a long moment, when nothing happened, he crept a bit closer. The rocks had been smashed. Chunks of debris littered the area around the pile. Had someone destroyed the golem? His pulse quickened as he realised that if that was true, someone had been here.
He glanced about for his items. On the ground, next to a chipped boulder, lay his satchel. Only the satchel. He ran towards it, snatching it up from the dirt floor. Inside there was the astral crystal and the grim bundle of offal that he’d been using as cat food, nothing else. Frantically he scoured the area, looking for any traces of the rest of his gear. His sword, the chainmail, the helmet, the herbs, the sickle, his money – all gone. He scoured the area again, driven by fear and despair. Nothing. He sunk to the ground on the spot where he had died. It was all gone. All gone.
It was all gone, as were his hopes of a future, and a cold, soul encompassing chill overwhelmed him. He cursed his fate, the golem, his task. He cursed whoever had taken his gear, and he cursed himself for being foolish enough to lose it all in the first place. Self-recrimination and despair whirled in his mind as his tears mixed into the dirt.
After a while, all his tears were gone; a hopeless hollow feeling replacing the tempestuous emotion that had racked him. He rose, mechanically, and not knowing what to do, started back towards Caslon.
Morgan entered in the inn in a daze. He automatically walked towards the stairs, when a call from the back of the room stopped him.
“Hey Morgan, any luck?”
It was Dillan, who was sat at a table tucking into a large plate of bacon and eggs. Morgan started to walk to his table, and shook his head sadly.
“It’s all gone. Looks like someone killed the golem as well, and good riddance. “
“I’m sorry to hear that,” replied Dillan, “Do you know what you’ll do next?”
Morgan shook his head again, “I’m really not sure. I need some time to rest and think, I’m exhausted. All I can see right now is that I’m doomed, effectively. I’m never going to reach my quota in time.”
Dillan gazed at him for a moment, “Well, first let me treat you to breakfast. Bacon and eggs?”
Morgan looked at him with a haunted expression, “I couldn’t, I’ve already taken advantage of your generosity once.”
The runner laughed, “Morgan, I’ve given you a sandwich and some company, the latter of which you’ve already returned. I insist.” With this, he walked to the bar and came back a minute later with a large plate of food.
After thanking Dillan profusely, Morgan tucked into the plate, as Dillan waved away his thanks. “Seriously, it’s no trouble. Now tell me, is there anything worth seeing around here?”
Morgan considered this for a moment. “It’s mainly just forest around. To the north there’s large spider caves before you reach the wall. There's a goblin encampment nearby as well, though I’ve not seen it. Just woods and baddies. Oh, though there is one thing that may be worth your while – do you know any magic?”
The two talked over breakfast for a long while, before Dillan extracted a promise that Morgan would take him to see Trevor as soon as possible, before Morgan headed up to his room to sleep.
When he got into the room, he emptied out his Bag of Cats, depositing the pile of felines on the floor. As he watched them get up and start rubbing against his legs, he felt like he hadn’t seen them in ages. After feeding them and half-heartedly playing with them for a few minutes, he collapsed into bed. He was asleep before the cats had even arranged themselves around him.
It was mid-afternoon when Morgan awoke. For a change, the cats were all still sleeping, and he gently extricated himself from the bed so as not to wake them. He stretched and checked his rested status. He no longer felt tired and drained, although deep in his body, a core of despair still weighed heavily on him. He shook his head. He’d take Dillan to see the wizard, he said he would, and he had some time to kill before it was time to log out and die.
With this grim thought rattling around in his head, he left the cats to sleep and went to find the runner. He wasn’t in the inn, so it took him a while to locate the man. He found him chatting to Tag, the blacksmith. Tag was busy showing off his wares as Morgan walked in. The two men in the shop turned to greet him. Tag started off, “Ho, Morgan, good to see you. How’s things? I hope that chainmail’s been working out for you?”
Morgan could feel the hollow in his soul as he replied, “I’m sorry Tag, I’ve no idea. I barely had it for a day before I lost it.”
Tag raised an eyebrow, “Lost it? It didn’t break, did it? I promise it was good quality iron.”
Morgan shook his head sadly, “Nothing of the sort. I died out in the forest to a rock golem. All my gear was pillaged by someone else. I’ve nothing left now.”
Tag hesitated for a second before replying with forced cheer, “Ah, rock golems are nasty business. It’s a bit of a setback but I’m sure a bright young thing like you can bounce back.”
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Morgan looked at the blacksmith blankly, “I wish I shared your optimism. I’ve got less than a couple of weeks to do a month's worth of work.”
Tag grinned. “Well, you better get moving then, eh?”
Morgan couldn’t resist a small smile. “Thanks Tag. Dillan, you ready to go? I’ve just got to swing by the inn to grab something from my room, then we can get moving.”
Dillan followed Morgan to the inn, where Morgan ran upstairs to scoop the sleeping cats back into the bag. A short minute later, and the pair were headed out of the gates and into the forest.
“So, I started at the tree, like you, I guess.” Dillan told Morgan as they walked, “After faffing about in Brogue, and receiving some pretty good shoes for my trouble, I headed west, and just kept going. After following the coast for a few days, I stopped at the dwarven capital, Rivett. Fascinating place. It’s built above a volcano. One of the dwarfs I met gave me a tour. You should see the magma caves, absolutely astounding. They've got a whole forge factory thing set up down there. After that I kept to the coast, going north, until I reached the rolling plains. They call it that because of the wheeled towns. They’ve got a whole bunch of towns and villages on wheels, yeah, it’s crazy. I was heading towards one when I found out they’ve got wheels as a massive tornado flew in and started dropping air elementals everywhere. I was just a couple of miles away from a town when it got up and rolled off. Can you imagine my surprise? I was running from the air elementals, and had almost made it, when the town just got up and rolled off. I was stunned. First time I died, that was. Well, by the time I’d made it back, the tornado, elementals and towns were all gone, gone off into the plains, I guess. I decided to...” Dillan paused mid-sentence and mid-step, “Wait, can you hear that?”
Dillan drew Morgan’s attention to sounds coming from deeper in the forest. The two sped up, heading towards the noise. As they got closer, the sound resolved into goblins grunting and weapons clashing. The two looked at each other, acknowledging that someone was in danger, before breaking into a run. Morgan hefted his stick as they broke through the brush towards the noise.
A young woman, armoured with a helmet and chainmail faced off against two armoured goblins, a smaller unarmoured third lying dead on the floor. She brandished a bloodied sword, and a pickaxe was strapped to her back. She was wounded, a massive gash rendered her left arm useless. Dillan drew out a pair of long daggers from his satchel and eyed the scene warily. One goblin was laying into the woman as the other circled around her, but she was wary, moving around so the goblin couldn’t flank her. As she parried another savage blow, Morgan realised something. That sword was the same as his sword. His chainmail, and his helmet also matched the woman’s armour.
Dillan nudged Morgan, “Should we interfere?”
Morgan frowned. She was the gear thief, she must be. If she died here, he could just loot it back, and maybe get a little extra. He heard her cry out as the flanking goblin landed a blow. He turned to Dillan, “Come on, lets help.”
It was hard to tell who was more surprised, the woman or the two goblins, as the two men sprang out of the bushes and charged into the fray. Dillan leapt on the flanking goblin, driving his two daggers into its back, as Morgan delivered a hefty smack to the head of the other. The woman took the opportunity and drove the sword into the chest of the stunned goblin. Just like that, it was over.
Dillan pulled a gory dagger out of a goblin with a grimace as the woman sank to the ground, cradling her wounded arm. She turned to the two men. “Thanks guys. I would have got them though, no doubt. Give me a minute.” She pulled out a vial of the valoplant sap, before smearing it over her wounds. Before their eyes, the wounds started to heal over. The woman spoke as she stared at the flesh that was reknitting itself.
“I’ll never get used to that.” She looked up at the pair coolly, “Thanks for helping out, that could have taken a while. I’m Elaine by the way.”
The two men stared incredulously at the woman.
Morgan spoke, “I’m glad we were passing by. Are you sure you could have taken them all on?” He gestured at the gaps in her armour where the wounds had been. “It looks like you were taking a beating.” She looked at him in irritation. “Sure, I would have. It probably would have hurt more, sure, but goblins aren’t a real threat.”
Morgan held his hands out placatingly. “That’s some nice gear you’ve got there. Do you mind if I was to ask where you got it?
The woman flashed a smug smile at Morgan. “It is, isn’t it. Some chump died north of here to a rock golem. So, I took it down. Hell of a fight. This must have been their gear. Surprised they couldn’t take a golem on with all this armour. Well, finders' keepers, losers' weepers.”
Morgan’s eyes narrowed, “That chump was me. That’s my gear you’ve taken.”
Elaine’s expression darkened. “And I suppose you want it back, yeah?”
Morgan nodded. “That’s everything I’ve earned so far. Without it, I’m dead. Like in real life dead.”
Elaine stared at Morgan, expectantly, “Yeah, and?”
Morgan sputtered, “And what?”
Her gaze hardened, “I’m waiting for the part where this is my problem.”
He just stood, looking at her dumbly for a long moment.
Dillan broke the silence, “Hey, Elaine. Look, I know you claimed these items, and I’m not going to dispute their ownership with you. Please, let me just outline the situation. Morgan here needs to gather a lot of herbs for his contract, and if he doesn’t have those herbs, he will lose his capsule access. He has the sickness, and the capsule is just about the only thing that will give him a future.”
Elaine’s gaze lost some of its edge, but only a little, “Look pal, I didn’t just claim these items, I fought for them. By rights, it’s all mine.”
Dillan held his palms towards her, conciliatorily, “I understand, but this is very important. A matter of life and death, if you will. Perhaps we could come to some kind of compromise?”
Her eyebrow rose. “By compromise, I’m assuming to mean you have something to offer?”
Morgan finally cut into the dialogue, “Please, Elaine. You’re here as some kind of virtual slave too, right? Like me?"
“Virtual slave is a bit strong,” she retorted, “More like indentured servant. What’s your point”
He replied, a note of desperation in his voice, “If I can’t fill the quota, I die. I get unplugged, cast back into life to live six months, maybe a year. Not even a life, a half-life, withered and frail. I had herbs, for my quota, and a sickle. That’s all I need from you. Please.”
“Look, pal, you can beg and scheme all you like.” She replied, shortly. “If you die, I am in no way affected. Why should I give you a damn thing?”
Morgan and Dillan traded an incredulous glance, before both settling back on Elaine.
Dillan gaze bore into her with more than an ounce of contempt, and she wilted a little as he spoke softly, but firmly, a schoolteacher chiding a student, “I understand that you are very independent, and good for you. However, I would like to come to some kind of compromise. You know what Morgan here wants, and what hangs in the balance for him. What do you want in return?”
She rebounded from the wilting gaze a few moments after he’d finished speaking, suddenly flushing with anger. “Nothing. I don’t want anything in return. I want nothing to do with either of you.”
With this, she turned, and ran into the forest.
Dillan held his arm out to stop the frantic Morgan from following. “Let her go. What a frustrating person. We’ll figure something out. Let’s gather up and head to the inn. At least she left us the goblin loot, eh?”
Later that evening, the pair sat at a table in the inn, Dillan talking around a mouthful of potatoes. “It was a pretty good haul from the goblins. Surely, it’s enough to get you started again?”
Morgan stared morosely at his plate of food, replying dejectedly; “Sure, if I don’t sleep, I may just be able to gather enough Valoplant and get it processed, but I don’t think I’m going to be able to get into the spider caves to gather the Silkblossom. I was just about willing to try braving the caves when I had weapons and armour, but now? I’m not even sure the goblin sword will cut anything, it’s about as sharp as a wooden spoon. The guards almost laughed me out of the training session.”
Dillan nodded amiably as he continued to tear into his meal, “You know I’m willing to help, right? I’ve not much to be doing otherwise, running around being a tourist can wait. Do you have anyone else you could ask? Perhaps we could get a party together to approach the caves?”
Morgan paused half way through scooting a potato around his plate. “I appreciate the offer. I really don’t want to impose on you though. Nor anyone else.”
Dillan rolled his eyes, “Morgan, mate, come on. You’re literally in a life-or-death situation. If you won’t accept help now, you may as well curl up and die. So, you know anyone to reach out to?”
With a grimace, Morgan replied hesitantly, “Well, I did meet a few friendly people on the way here. I guess it can’t hurt to reach out and see.”
“Good.” said Dillian, “See who may be available when, and we’ll work from there. For now, I think it’s time for a good rest. We’ll pick you up a sickle in the morning and get to work, OK?”
Morgan nodded, tiredly. “Thanks Dillan, you’ve been a great help.”
Dillan grinned back, “My pleasure Morgan. I’m just glad to be part of the story, we’ll work as hard as we need to give this one a happy ending.”
The pair separated, heading to their rooms. Morgan sat on his bed, and thought about who to message.
[Morgan: Hi Ralph. It’s been a little while, and I hope you’re well. I’m writing to ask if you’d be able to help me with a task I have to complete soon near a town named Caslon. If you could ask Chris as well, I’d appreciate it. Cheers!]
[Morgan: Lillian, Hi. I don’t know if you remember me, but you taught me a lesson that was worth knowing in the markets of Dilanar. I have a task to complete, and was wondering if you were in a position to render me assistance. I’m currently in a town named Caslon, and the task is nearby. Please let me know. Morgan.]
[Morgan: Hey Lana and Lauren! I was wondering if you two were free to help me and my fluffy crew to complete a task that we can’t do alone. We’re at a town named Caslon, and the task is nearby. Thanks!]