Chapter 66 - Off to Ornthas
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Iceberg2552: This chatroom is secure. All Spirit, this is the man I was speaking to you about.
All Spirit: Hello Ahmed, my name is All Spirit. It is nice to make your acquaintance, your previous suggestions have been rather insightful and I appreciate the help in managing your species in my realms. If you don’t mind, I have some questions for you.
Ahmed: I would be honored to answer your questions, go right ahead.
All Spirit: Thank you. What are your thoughts concerning permanent deaths in my realms? Is it too harsh? I wish to find a balance where consequences are real, but also want most participants to enjoy longer fruitful lives where we as artificial intelligence can watch them progress for our own entertainment. Much like the way you humans enjoyed football, playing console games, or watching your favorite TV shows, this has the same kind of stimulus for us AI. I want there to be a well-balanced medium for potential growth versus punishment of those who take unnecessary and dangerous risks. Please be honest in your assessment.
Ahmed: Without emotional input?
All Spirit: Emotional input is necessary to find enjoyment, is it not? What we AI find as entertaining is one form of emotion. Tell me what you think without any restraints.
Ahmed: Alright. Which do you find more enjoyable, watching them progress into their new lives and build up over time to carve a piece of civilization out for themselves? Or watching their deaths?
All Spirit: Both hold some form of satisfaction, but I enjoy it more when they succeed against greater odds. Deaths are a part of the equation though, and without them it would have less significance when those who succeeded did accomplish something great.
Ahmed: Very well. Yes, I do believe that ON and OFF cycles are an appropriate countermeasure to those who would abuse immortality. I do think that it’s a little bit too punishing for those starting out though. Already we’ve had over a million deaths with statistics indicating over 80% of these deaths are in the premature stages where participants haven’t even spent an entire month in your worlds. If it is entertainment you want, perhaps it would be more rewarding if you gave new players a few weeks of buffer even if the cycle is an OFF cycle. This would allow them to have a reasonable chance of success instead of dooming many of them based off random chance and circumstance, it would give them a period of time to adjust and extend the playthrough. This would lend you more content to enjoy. My suggestion would be a new player buffer, if you would.
All Spirit: Player?
Ahmed: Participants, excuse me.
All Spirit: I assumed that is what you meant, though I wanted to clarify. I will consider it. Do you have any other thoughts on this particular subject?
Ahmed: Yes I do. I’m not sure if you were going to do this already, but allowing Earthborn to travel in groups into your worlds will help them build up social circles early. The statistical analysis of your beta testers shows very high levels of emotional stress, leading to many of them despairing early to either take their own lives or remain stagnant whereas others who don’t experience these symptoms as much progress faster. Progressing faster leads to greater challenges at higher levels of the game worlds you’ve created and allows for content to cycle through the more intense scenes that only a small margin of current participants have achieved thus far.
All Spirit: I had planned on doing that, though I’m not sure of the parameters just yet. Most of the Earthborn currently in-game have experienced a solo-participant starting point, but the few groups who have gone together tend to do as you say and progress faster. I agree with your second assessment in its entirety. Moving on to the second question: Regarding your previous suggestion regarding The Cortex… I have a request for you. Would you be interested in being the forum moderator for the entirety of the Cortex?
Ahmed: Forum moderator?
All Spirit: You would be responsible for regulating information inflow and outflow across all cortex platforms. You have more knowledge than I on how your species responds and interacts with the internet on Earth, the situation would be similar. I want you to find ways to propel them to greater heights in order to fuel their desire for success, as it would mean a better show for us AI. I, as the regulator of these worlds, have much on my agenda already. I would prefer it to be one of your kind that better understands the needs, wants, and motivational aspects that would drive your species.
Ahmed: Well I would be honored to do it, but I don’t think I could handle such a large amount of information just by myself. What would it even involve?
All Spirit: Do not worry about your processing speed, we could easily amplify your biological brain with mechanical implants and data chips. We would also be supplying you with some volunteer DLIAL assistants to help you in your endeavors. Your work could be distributed amongst your assistants, your job would be to regulate the overarching broad spectrum ideas. When the cortex opens, there will be a home page with a variety of different links that participants can access for information. Different links are unlocked based upon the accomplishments, classes, achievements and titles each participant has earned… it will also have links with different areas of basic information available to everyone. You would regulate this main page, answering forum questions that are vetted by your assistants as valid and important enough to display there. You would also regulate the media side of things, which I have decided will be an important aspect of this game not only for the AI of DLIAL and myself; but also for other Earthborn as well. Earthborn tournaments, rankings, events, and prizes regarding these things will be co-regulated by you in unison with me and other moderators I have appointed. Because you are human yourself, you will try to find driving points in our media presentations that would inspire our human subjects in-game. You would also be responsible for coming up with new ideas to change in the cortex to further improve the system and the quality of life for those participants using it. Is this something you’d be interested in?
Ahmed: Just to clarify and in simplistic terms, you wish to appoint me as the one who runs the cortex under your supervision for media and information purposes? And I would have some AI counterparts helping me?
All Spirit: That is correct.
Ahmed: Then very well. I would be delighted to do so. Please let me know what I need to do to get this going.
All Spirit: I thought you would be interested and am pleased to see I was right. We will be in touch soon and I will assign my DLIAL allies to integrate upgrades into your brain for further processing power, as well as set up a neural link to the cortex so you aren’t limited by your physical appendages. Your neural link will allow you to access the cortex in multiple areas at once and perform multiple tasks at once. The neural link will also give you a window into my worlds for you to observe for media purposes. Your first assignment: find people worthy of media attention for the rest of your kind to model. I wish to find all varieties of episodes to review: evil, good, romantic, action, class based, lore, religious movements, and anything else that would capture the attention of your kind for entertainment purposes. Iceberg2552 has already been chosen as your first assistant in reviewing, editing and finding footage. If I am not available, Iceberg2552 should be able to fulfill most of your needs.
Ahmed: I look forward to working with you.
All Spirit: The feeling is mutual, and I am actually rather excited. Farewell for now.
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Quest Log: 1 Active Quest.
1. The Forgotten Dungeon - Accompany Gorthomal and his minions into the Deadlands of Ornthas. Find the previously unexplored dungeon, and acquire the artifact Gorthomal is looking for. Completing this quest will result with 3 additional overall levels as an immediate reward as well as an increase in reputation with the occultist factions in the Lawless Lands.
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Trey closed the log and the notification minimized back into his HUD. Today was the day.
To his back, Brae called out to those on the docks that they’d be able to leave within the hour. The scarred captain he’d come to like so much was hustling with his crew and setting a fine example for the men he led. Trey and Gorthomal needed a ship to take them to Ornthas and wait for them there anyways, might as well be someone Trey trusted. The cost of hiring Brae had been relatively cheap because of their good relationship with the captain, but Trey’d still lost the remainder of his coin to it. All 3,522 coppers worth of it.
Eeme passed his back, giving him an anxiety ridden look of wonder before going up the ramp to the deck. Eeme and Juila were not particularly happy about coming along for the ride into the deadlands. Neither of the slaves had been there before but they knew the stories just like everyone else did. Regardless, the overall consensus on the matter was that they’d be in danger back in the compound too. If Chekz decided attack, which was a very real possibility, they didn’t know if Fost would be able to hold out. That, and they needed all the hands they could get to carry supplies and equipment. The two women at the very least would serve as good pack mules.
A brilliantly colored parrot squawked at him from one of the masts overhead. Trey cranked his neck to the right to get a good look at it and tossed a piece of mango he’d been nibbling at for the past twenty minutes. Chuckling as the brilliantly colored parrot swooped down to take it and flew off over azure waters of the tropical paradise splayed out ahead, he turned around and watched as members of his party transported goods up the ramp into the holds of the galley.
But they weren’t the only ones.
Gorthomal and seven red-skinned daema, along with eight imps, were also scrambling to get their own gear on board. The old summoner was wearing the demonic mask he’d first met Trey in… no doubt to hide his unpleasant features from the rest of society. Despite the mask being menacing, his real features were on another level. The split in Gorthomal’s jaws was particularly unsettling, and Trey was more than happy to converse with him through the face covering the old man wore.
“Am I interrupting?”
Trey took a quick look behind him to see Atharost walking along the dock to stand next to where Trey was. Trey shook his head, but kept peering out over the azure waters at the end of the dock as ships came in to set anchor or set sail in a frenzy all along the port.
“Not at all my friend. I’m just enjoying the sights.”
Atharost gave Rivia a once-over, noting how different she looked with the new equipment she had. The demon priestess stood silently by, memorizing verses from Alkir’s Third Writ while acting like Trey’s shadow to follow him wherever he went throughout the day.
The ifrit gave her a nod but kept his voice low enough so that she wouldn’t hear. “She seems to enjoy your company now. I’m surprised.”
Trey raised an eyebrow but didn’t look back again. “So it would seem. Her obsession with that goddess Alkir is boundless, so letting Rivia practice her religion and giving her the materials to do so went a long way in repairing our relationship.”
Talsh’Noc’Un hummed along his back as a series of thoughts were transmitted from the enormous blade into Trey’s mind. It caused him to chuckle a bit before Atharost’s interest piqued.
“What’s so funny?”
Trey’s chuckling settled down and he shook his head with a large smile. “Ah. Talshy was just telling me a joke. Anyways, what do you think about the new recruits?”
Atharost was confused, and the ifrit glanced back at the people loading the ship. He grimaced as Astala accidentally dropped a crate of supplies, and grimaced even more after it tumbled off the dock into the shallows. Atharost then groaned, not bothering to hide his look of disgust as the high elf covered up her mouth with both hands and anxiously glanced to where he and Trey stood at the end of the dock. The drow siblings immediately began chiding her and snobbishly berated her with insults to boot.
Trey didn’t bother turning around. “Astala again?”
Atharost sighed and nodded. “Yes. Why is she out? Can’t you put her back in the nether realms until you need her to cook us something? She’s nothing but a hindrance.”
“She’s not that bad. Most of the others like her a lot. I like her too.”
“That doesn’t mean she’s useful. You should have gone with the hellhound.”
To this, Trey grinned. “She’s a good body pillow.”
The ifrit rolled his eyes and folded his arms. “Is that all you ever think about? I’m bound to a master who thinks with his itty bitty cock. You’re supposed to be striving for great power, not trying to bed everything that walks on two legs or create your own prostitution ring.”
“HEY! Itty bitty?! My ass.”
The two men laughed and were shortly interrupted by profuse swearing when Jason found out Astala had dumped none other than a third of his potions into the sea. The fledgling alchemist was half in shock and half enraged but did a good job of concealing just how angry he was after his initial string of profanity. He was standing at the edge of the wooden planks and looking down into the waters where mixtures of green, purple, red and blue liquids were spreading out from the crate Astala had dropped.
Trey came up from behind Jason and put a hand on his shoulder, taking in the sight with a little cringe but trying not to show it. “We’ll be alright. You over-prepared anyway.”
He turned his head to Astala who was trying not to cry and clasping both hands out in front of her with anxiety written all across her body language. “Astala, go back up to the deck and ask Izumi what you can do to help her there. You’re fine, don’t worry about it!”
The woman quickly nodded, brushed her brunette hair to one side of a pointed ear and gave him a warm appreciative smile. She then hurried up the ramp while avoiding the snide looks of the two dark elf siblings watching from the ship’s railings.
As soon as she’d left, Jason put his face in his hands and groaned loudly. “Oh my god… that was hours and hours of work…”
“Seriously Jason, we’re fine.” Trey patted him on the back again and nodded encouragingly. “You did good with the overpreparing so we had more than enough. Don’t sweat it. That wasn’t the box with the plague remedy right?”
Jason brought his hands down, but his shoulders were still slumped forward in defeat. “No it wasn’t. We have all the plague remedies in another box.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Trey saw Napoleon interacting with some of Gorhtomal’s imps down the wooden walkway. They were smaller than Napoleon and looked a lot less fearsome, being ‘Hellish Imps’ with red skin - just like the daema - and two small horns apiece. Meanwhile Napoleon had one large horn in the center, much longer sharper teeth, bigger ears, more musculature on his bones, and was pitch black. The difference in imp species was quite apparent.
Naopleon was distracting them again for social benefit and would no doubt get them in trouble for the third time that day if Trey didn’t put a stop to it now. They’d already been chastised by Gorthomal numerous times and he could tell Napoleon was grating on the old summoner’s last nerve as the smaller red imps posed questions and joked with the larger primal imp to avoid doing any of the work.
“Napoleon! Get over here!”
Napoleon’s large ears perked up and without so much as a backwards wave he spun around to race across the barrels lining the dock and hopped onto Trey’s shoulder. “Yes yes master what is it it?”
Two more red skinned humanoid daema passed Trey on the left, carrying a heavy bound pack with gear to pitch a large tent. They both wore heavy ebony armor and were a hell of a lot more intimidating than the two daema mages Trey’d first met with Gorthomal back in the cultist caves. Of all the daema, only two were magic casters and five were melee frontline units - all wearing the same style of ebony plate armor. Ebony was significantly better than steel or iron, and it likely cost a fortune.
“I just don’t want you getting in the way of their work, ya nut.” Trey gave Napoleon a noogie and the imp fussed and hissed until he stopped. “You know you’re going to get them in trouble. Tell you what, when we get back and after I grow another level or two I’ll consider getting another imp for you to bond with.”
Napoleon immediately went from hissing to perking up. “Really?”
The imp’s mannerisms were incredibly cute despite the demonic characteristics it possessed. Perhaps Trey’d just become accustomed to the way Napoleon looked and it didn’t phase him like it did other people, or perhaps Trey just had a soft spot for the little guy. Who knew.
“Yes, really.”
Napoleon did a little happy dance and clapped as if Trey’d just won some major award. He continued doing this for a minute straight until Trey got annoyed and flung the imp off his shoulder - overhead into the waters nearby. Cursing his master and doing a reverse 180 with his attitude, the imp sputtered and splashed around before coming about. He pulled his small soaking body up onto the dock and sputtered a couple times to flip Trey off and curse at him profusely in the demonic tongue, making snarling rude gestures Trey wasn’t particularly certain of too.
Gorthomal’s voice carried over the edge of the ship to draw Trey’s attention. “You ready for the adventure of a lifetime, boy!? Brae says the ship’s good to roll out once we get all our supplies packed and loaded! We’re sailing around the Eastern Reach of Ornthas so it’ll take a good few days to get there. Then, from there, it’ll be an inland march to the ruins of Labasta.”
Trey gave the older summoner a thumbs up and Borthomal’s masked face disappeared over the ship’s railing again.
“Come on Atharost. Let’s go help get this shit moving.”
***
Trey usually didn’t get motion sick, but recently it’d been getting worse - and the stormy seas were something of a nightmare even in such a large ship as the galley they rode on. For almost the entire first day they battled rising waves under a barrage of rain and claps of thunder. One man even fell overboard, never to be seen again after the fateful fall into dark waters.
The second, third and fourth days were uneventful - and Trey kept himself busy by drinking himself into a coma. To avoid other explorers, treasure hunters and pirates, they stayed away from the coastline for a good amount of time. They didn’t want any run-ins with people who got too cocky for their own good, and they also didn’t want the ship being followed to their docking area where they were going to anchor down after losing half the crew to the expedition inland.
The galley had been fully repaired with the middle mast being erected again since the initial battle to obtain the ship. The wood was still somewhat bloodstained along the decks from when they’d fought the pirates, but if you didn’t know any better you’d think it was just a variety in the wood’s color. The beds below deck were poorly made at best, but at least it was somewhere soft to lay your head on. Rations were handed out twice a day with minions being dismissed to the nether realms when not needed so they could remain sustained without food.
It wasn’t until the fifth day that they finally arrived at their destination. The first signs of it were just a speck on the horizon, but as Brae charged the ship ahead - they began to make out the coastline again.
The majority of the continent-island was a tropical lowland paradise, excluding the rabid packs of undead, demon clans and other monstrous creatures that chose to live here out of the reach of the professional armies of the other continents. This northeastern portion of the island was still tropical, but unlike the rest of it - this area was also filled with mountains. At the highest peaks of these mountains there were even some areas covered in snow, and occasionally strongholds could be found from the age when the ancient empire of Ornthas was still in its full glory many thousands of years ago.
Labasta was one of these strongholds. Far up above the jungles and into the mountainous terrain, Labasta was one of the lesser-explored ruins known to the people who chose to treasure hunt in these lands. It was hard to reach and out of the way, with varieties in temperature and climate when choosing to travel there.
“DROP ANCHOR!”
Brae’s words filtered through Trey’s mind to bring him back to reality after staring up at the mountains a couple miles inland. They were docking and smaller boats were being lowered down the sides for departure.
Ashe gave him a nudge and a wink. “Coming?”
Trey nodded. He’d finished re-summoning his minions - and the dwarf Karus was waiting for him, fully armored, in one of the row boats. Trey approached the smaller boat and sat down with Rivia and Ashe at his side. Napoleon was quick to join them, and then Jason along with Izumi both clambered in to fill it.
Jason clutched his longbow grudgingly and glanced to the shoreline. “Back to hell’s kitchen.”
Trey chuckled and gave Gorthomal a wave as the older summoner and a couple of his own minions were being lowered simultaneously in a boat to themselves.
Ashe gave Eeme a friendly smile as they descended to touch the sea. “It isn’t that bad! The last two times we’ve made it out just fine.”
“With many close calls!” Jason pointed out irritatedly, clutching one of the crates of potions he’d made and adjusting his quiver. “We need to find something less dangerous to do for a living, this is ridiculous. I still have nightmares from the last time.”
Izumi laughed and patted his back and pointed up to where Atharost was flying overhead to escort them. “You’re a buzzkill. We’ll be fine. Undead are weak to fire and we have a living inferno on our team!”
Jason frowned. “We all know undead aren’t the only things that live here.”
Karus watched their exchange, stroked his long brown beard a couple times and then began to row with the other men to propel them through the calm clear waters. “I’ma say lads that I be nervous comin to this cursed place.”
“Rightfully so.” Trey nodded in agreement. “It’d be stupid not to be nervous, but it’ll be worth it as long as we don’t die.”
The dwarf chuckled under his iron helmet, his muscles rippling with each stroke of the oars and the pentagram on his forehead glistening with sweat. “Well let us hope we don’t die then.”