CHAPTER 7 – THE GIRL

After a morning spent learning to cut fabric properly, Daos’s hands ached from the iron shears his Master made him use. There has got to be a better tool for that job, he thought as he shook his hand again to keep the blood flowing.

The library at the Academy in Lyr was easily double that of Fyr’s.

He’d come there after grabbing a quick bite in the student commons to find more information about DeathLag. If the man had become famous enough for the Meisters in Lyr to know about him, there was bound to be documentation here. The library would be the in-game equivalent of a wiki, he assumed.

Daos found one of multiple librarians cataloging books behind a desk in the center of the large complex.

“Hello, miss,” he said softly.

She startled and jumped, letting out a squeak of surprise.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there,” she said, raising a hand to place over her heart. “I get so lost in my work sometimes.”

Daos smiled. “Quite alright, sorry for spooking you like that. I was hoping you could help me.”

She was taller than he was, and he had to look up to make eye contact.

“Of course, Acolyte.”

“Keeper, actually.” Is that title ever going to pay off for me?

Her eyes widened. “Oh my, is that so? Well, what can I do for you, Keeper?”

There we go.

“I’m looking for information on a particular individual. An Outsider. Do you have biographies and the like here, on famous Outsiders?”

She tried to stand even taller as she responded. “We have one of the most respected biography collections in the kingdom. Who is it in particular that you’re seeking to research?”

“He goes by the name DeathLag.”

Daos watched as the woman’s face went white but he gave her points for maintaining composure.

“W-why would you want to read about that vile… thing?” she asked, the corners of her mouth pulling downward as she spoke.

Hmm, okay, tread carefully here. Why does she seem to fear that name?

“Well, it’s my understanding he first appeared here in your lands about four years ago,” he said, testing the waters.

“Yes. He was one of the first Outsiders to make themselves known, that’s true.”

“You seem to have a handle on him. Perhaps you could answer some questions and save me some time?”

“Again Keeper, I cannot fathom a reason you would want to understand that creature. What pushes you to pursue something so distasteful?”

Okay, so fear and… hate? Or just fear? Maybe if I feed the fear, stoke it with more, I can get something useful out of her. Obviously, she’s trying to guard the information with questions to my questions.

“One of his followers, the Rogue, killed me back in Fyr.”

Her eyes widened. “The Rogue was here? In Fyr? On this side of the mountains?” Unconsciously, she wrung her hands together in front of her as her eyes darted left and right, focusing on nothing. “I have to tell the council. She’s his assassin and his lead scout.”

“Before that, though, I need information!” Shit, don’t go running off now.

She returned her gaze to him. “If the Rogue is here, it won’t be long before that undead monstrosity crosses the mountains and enslaves us all. Those he doesn’t kill, at least,” she said fiercely.

Woah, okay. Fear and hate in equal amounts, then. Why would he enslave everyone? Antagonistic playstyle, maybe? I’ve done that on occasion. Or… Daos shivered as he considered. Has he forgotten that this is a game, and psychologically caved to his Lich unlife? What’s going to become of me, the longer this goes on?

“DeathLag is, or at least was, an Outsider. I need to find him to, uh,” Think! “put a stop to what he’s doing. Unfortunately, I wasn’t fully briefed on what exactly he’s been doing, since he stopped, um, reporting back to those of us on the Outside.”

Okay, improv is not my thing, got it.

The woman seemed mollified, if only a little, and released her hands from one another to straighten her dress.

“I see. Going to stop the evil overlord and save us all, then?”

Daos allowed himself a small smile. “Something like that, sure.”

“A Keeper of your stature has absolutely no chance, but… what do you need to know. The council doesn’t meet for a couple more hours, so I’ll answer what I can.

“Well first, it’s obvious everybody fears and hates DeathLag. Why?”

She closed her eyes and shook her head slowly, as if trying to convince herself that answering such a stupid question was worth her time.

She must have won her internal argument because she sighed and looked at Daos again.

“DeathLag was a mage, like yourself, who discovered an ancient and evil magic. It twisted him into an undead abomination, a thing of magic and bone. All sense of humanity left him shortly after that, and he began a campaign east of the mountains to conquer all known lands there.”

Okay, so an antagonist player. Knows it’s a game, wants a power trip, finds a Unique Subclass, goes on that power trip. Doesn’t care about the 1s and 0s that make up the game world and its people. Can’t really hold that against the guy, despite how real they all seem. I’ve done that in games, too. Not sure I could bring myself to do it here, though.

“Okay, so he’s slaughtering left and right.”

She shook her head. “Not only killing. Torturing. Sacrificing. Ripping families apart. Burning people alive.”

Daos watched as she hugged her arms to herself. Okay, so a bit of a psycho then. Maybe this isn’t such a good idea, but he’s still the only person I know of who’s stuck here, and from the sound of it, he’s making his way over the mountains to this side eventually. The other alpha testers are with him, that rogue among them.

“We’re all going to die,” she whispered, staring at his chest but looking right through him. “Or worse.”

Well, shit. Why am I feeling so much empathy, here? I was just thinking how they’re 1s and 0s. Damnit. Okay, so maybe I find him and, I don’t know, stop him?

Good idea bro, he’s been here four years. He’s going to be a super high level. What are you going to do, talk him down? Idiot.

The librarian looked as if she’d given up.

“So, you talk to the council, they begin building their army. I build myself up, and head through the mountains to see if I can find him and,” and what?

“No army stood against him in the East. No army will stand against him here. He’s undead, Keeper,” she said, as if that explained everything.

“What’s that got to do with it? A mace will break apart a skeleton just as easily as a blade will slice flesh.”

She looked at him as if he were an alien. “I don’t know about the undead where you come from, but DeathLag is the first, and only, sentient undead to be seen in our recorded history. The only undead being not controlled by a living person’s magic. Nothing the people of the East threw at him worked!”

So, he’s that high a level, then. He’s exceeded the NPCs, which should outrank players, at least in some cities, no matter what… Is it even worth finding him, then? If he’s so far gone, if his psyche is broken, and he’s bent on this Lich narration he’s building for himself, what’s the point?

No, there’s gotta be something. The Rogue he sent was on a mission, and needed that Runic book specifically. If he sent her here to scout and retrieve something so particular, he still has his wits. What is he trying to accomplish? Take over the world, force the developers to let him out?

I need to talk with him, or one of the other testers, regardless. If he’s going to take over the world that I must call my home for the foreseeable future, I should at least know why. I should understand what that’ll mean for me, so I can prepare and adapt.

“As a famous Outsider once said, there is nothing to fear but fear itself. Tell your Council. From what I can gather of travel in this world, it will still be some time before he can move an army through those mountains.”

“Time is irrelevant. He will arrive, and we will submit. Maybe some will live through it if we do. The council will agree.” She sighed.

Way to just roll over. Daos began to grow agitated. Where’s the quest to be the hero and savior? The call for the player to rise up?

“So you’re just going to give up, days, weeks, even months before the danger arrives?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “What else is there to do? That…thing is evil incarnate, intent on destroying everything in its path. There is no reasoning with him. I suppose it is inevitable, but the East is vast, and we did not think he would reach the mountains this soon.”

Four years to conquer the lands east of the mountains, yeah, that’s huge.

“So, head to the coast. Load the people up on boats, and sail away.”

“This is the only continent. Where would we go? Random tiny islands with but two trees and sand?”

What world only has one continent, seriously? The A.I. is governing things here, it must have generated something else by now.

“Maybe new lands simply have yet to be discovered.”

She scoffed. “Maybe. Not sure what good it will do just setting off into the vast and empty blue, only to starve to death. At least submitting gives us a chance at survival, whatever that chance may be.”

No talking her out of it, then. So, this is the course I have.

“How long does it take to cross the mountains?”

“Two weeks, give or take.” Her voice sounded empty.

Two weeks then, minimum. If he’s leading a large army, longer. How the actual fuck do I grow strong in two weeks? I don’t, that’s the truth of the matter. So, what, I just sit around, bend the knee when they show up? I’ll respawn. They won’t. Nadia didn’t. Oric didn’t.

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And then what? I respawn, only to be killed again.

Or I join him. Maybe he’s got an actual goal, here. Maybe he’s trying to find a way out. Or maybe he’s just bored and his mind is broken. Fuck, I don’t know.

“Or, you save us all,” the unplaceable yet familiar voice whispered in his mind again.

Save who? Who are you? He called out in his mind but received no answer. What is going on with me. Am I already breaking?

He took solace in the fact that he hadn’t looked around frantically for the source of the voice, understanding it was in his mind.

Okay. The mountains are two days travel from here. A couple of weeks to cross them. I can stay here, do what I can, or I can set out and try to meet him halfway. Figure things out, see what his plan is.

 “Okay then. Thank you for your time. Good luck with the council, and all that,” Daos said, still not having formed a plan for himself.

The woman nodded absently, her eyes faraway.

He turned and left.

As he walked, he sent a request to speak with the admin, Nilchi. He was immediately met with a response to head around back of the library.

“Hey”, he said, seeing the featureless gray avatar again.

“Daos,” Nilchi said as the smooth head nodded once in greeting.

“DeathLag is an Alpha tester, right?”

“Normally I could neither confirm nor deny that, but given the circumstances, yes. He was an alpha tester.”

Was? Interesting slip up there, Mr. Admin…

“So, he was locked in game too, like me,” Daos muttered aloud, hoping to stoke more information from Nilchi.

“DeathLag is bad news, Daos. Stay away from him.”

“Why?”

The avatar stood motionless, and silent.

“There is commotion here in the office. I need to go.”

Nilchi disappeared.

Sonofa… Come on!

“Fine, as if I’m going to listen to you now,” he muttered under his breath as he turned away.

**** **** ****

“Meister Atmos!” Daos called, seeing the man crossing the campus lawn.

“Keeper Daos, what can I do for you?” the man asked, his mood noticeably better than it had been the day before. Still, there was a sadness in his eyes.

How the hell do you program sadness in someone’s eyes? I’m losing it, aren’t I?

“I was wondering if I could run some things by you? Ideas, plans,” Daos asked. Atmos was the only person in Lyr beyond the librarian and Master Erick that Daos knew. Or Chopper! I could find him and see if he’s heard of DeathLag…

“I’m quite late for a lecture as it is, and a professor can only be so late before the students leave. How about dinner this evening, in my office?”

“That sounds great, I’ll see you then!” Daos said with a wave, turning to jog the rest of the way to the Academy’s entrance.

Alright, how to find Chopper? I know he needed to turn in those venom fangs, but no clue where. Oh, duh.

Mental Missive, Chopper – Hey man, I know you can’t respond, but if you’re free, can you meet me in the marketplace? Near where we saw that pickpocket the other day. I have a few things to run by you. Thanks!

He swiped away the notification that his message had been sent and walked to the marketplace. It was just as busy as it had been yesterday, and Daos again marveled at the various scents assaulting his nostrils.

Much longer here and I’m going to forget it’s a game, that I still have a body wasting away out there on life support in some corporate warehouse.

“Howya!”

Daos turned to find Chopper approaching. His armor was still just as mismatched as before, but this time instead of an iron breastplate he had a large leather pauldron on his left shoulder that extended down over part of his chest. Leather straps wrapped around his torso to keep it secure, but he was otherwise bare-chested.

He had lamellar-like thigh guards, scale-mail bracers, and heavy boots. He looked, Daos decided, ridiculous.

“Hey man, glad you could make it.”

“Yer mind-talk is hella useful then, innit?”

“It has it’s moments. So!” Daos stopped, noticing Chopper’s pallor. It was as if all blood had been drained from his body, he was so pale. A pallid sweat shone over his skin, but the man still looked… relieved?

“What’s up?” Daos asked, putting off what he’d been meaning to say. “You look like shit.”

Chopper’s face displayed an internal conflict before he finally motioned Daos over to a thin alley between buildings, away from the clamor of the market.

“I live here now,” he said simply.

“Um, what do you mean?” Daos asked, suddenly wondering if the Irishman had become trapped like he had. Unfortunately, the contract he’d signed forbade him from bringing it up.

Chopper sighed and his shoulders slumped. “Was terminal, y’see. Cancer all throughout me body,” he said, motioning to his avatar with his hands.

“Was?”

“Friend of mine, goes by Nilchi, is an admin in VMO. We go way back, guildies through many games. When I was declared terminal, he got me one o’ them Alpha tester pods on the down-low and triggered it to stick me in-game until my body died.”

Nilchi? The asshole who just disappeared on me. Alright, so he’s got friends too, he’s a real person, after all. And maybe not all bad, if he’s helping Chopper out.

“Chopper, I’m so sorry,” Daos offered, not sure how to react.

“Well, I been waitin’ for word from Jake, I mean Nilchi,” he said, waiving away Daos’s concern, “and I just got it before you messaged me. It’s over. Body’s done, quare dead. They pulled me outta the pod a few minutes ago. Deireadh an tsaoil. Feelin’ a bit wrecked, I am.”

“I’m sure,” Daos said simply.

“But ‘ere I am, a Maniac forever.”

Or as long as the servers last. How is this even possible?

“Or so long as the servers remain active, I s’pose”, Chopper said as if reading his mind. “We wasn’t certain iffin’ I’d still be here, or just disappear, when it happened, so I been on the edge o’ my seat for days now. Quite relieved. I been ossified and wakin’ up to the fear until the battle back in Fyr. Glad to be done with that.”

Daos couldn’t quite follow all the man’s slang, but understood that he was relieved to still be alive. Alive? Is he, though? He’s 1s and 0s now, too. Like an NPC. How am I even supposed to comprehend this? Is he actually an NPC now? He can’t really be a player if he’s dead in the real world. Total mindfuck.

“I’ll make a whale of a time of it all, though, I will. I’ve a donkey’s years ahead of me, now.”

Daos shook his head to clear the thoughts, not even trying to follow Choppers words.

“Well, you’ve got a second chance at life now, even if it’s a virtual one.”

“Right you are, there. To be honest, other than the menus and mechanics, I can’t rightly tell the difference.”

I’m starting to notice that, too. And if he’s dead back in reality, then the contract doesn’t apply to him, does it?

“Chopper, I’m actually stuck here, too.”

“That’s a fret, though I mighta been guessin’ it, what with you not loggin’ out back in the woods.”

“Nilchi is the admin assigned to my case. They’re not sure why I’m trapped.”

“Brutal, that. And here I was, thinkin’ I’d have to start callin’ you an Outsider like the locals, now that I am one. Sounds like you are too, then.” Chopper clapped Daos on the shoulder.

“Maybe not so permanently as you, but for now at least.”

“Oh feck off, are ya havin’ a gas? Four years an’ countin’, and still the Alphas are stuck. There’s no getting’ outta this garden, is there?”

“That’s actually why I messaged you. I’m thinkin’ of finding DeathLag, seeing what his take on all this is. Pool our resources and minds, him and the other Alpha testers.”

“Right mad then, are ya? Not the full shilling for sure. Soon as I died, that bugger became enemy numero uno. Persona non grata, an’ all that.”

“Why?”

“Are ya thick?”

Because he’s ruining your world. It’s no longer a game for you, shit. Can you even still respawn if you die?

“This is my life now, me world,” Chopper continued, motioning to the city around them. “An that arse, actin’ the maggot, is lookin’ to destroy it all. Make my life ‘ere a real livin’ hell, he will.

“But I’m not some dosser to roll over and take it, no. You should join up with us, formin’ a resistance of sorts, we are.”

Us? We? I can’t tell if this is just his normal speak or if there are others he’s referring to.

“Us?”

“I’ve another friend, like us. She reckons DeathLag broke, completely banjaxed in the head, ya? Defected from his crew, she did. Says he’s on a rampage to find the god avatar of the A.I. running the world. The moran thinks he’ll show up and destroy the god, sending the code into chaos, thinkin’ it’ll free him from the world. Or kill him dead for good. Either way, he wants an end.”

“At the expense of the world.”

Chopper nodded. “Ruin my second chance at life. I’ve a mind to stop him, Daos. Join up with us, ya?”

“Let me think about it tonight,” Daos said, his thoughts running wild. “Give me some time, let me roll it around. I mean I can’t think there’s zero chance of me ever getting out, y’know? But I don’t want to ruin this world to do it. Who’s the friend, by the way?”

“I’ll introduce ya iffin’ you join up with us. She’s a bit secretive, havin’ defected from Deathlag, you understand.”

“Sure, sure. Give me tonight, lets meet up tomorrow afternoon back here.”

“You got it boyo, be seein’ ya.”

This sounds like the plot to a summer blockbuster. An evil archvillain intent on destroying the world; the plucky warrior whose made this world his own forming a resistance to stand up to him; and me, the sidekick mage who bumbles about helping the warrior save the day.

Daos stepped back out into the market, his hands stuffed in the robe’s pockets.

What if I really am here forever?

**** **** ****

“You! You there, mage!” A woman called out to him.

Daos stood at the edge of the marketplace when a female he could only describe as a washed-up hippie caught up to him.

“It is you! From my visions!”

Okay, lay it on thicker, will you? Are you a scam artist, or a legit seer? Do I even care?

Her brown hair was matted in what probably started as dreads, with various colored beads woven into them. Her black eyeliner was thick, though she didn’t wear much other makeup.

“Come, come! I tell you your fortune, you must hear it!”

She tried to pull him toward a tent nestled between two larger merchant stalls.

“Lady, I don’t have a whole lot of coin”, Daos began.

“Nonsense! Two gold is all I need. The wind speaks to me, mage! It beckons me to read you.”

Daos rolled his eyes and sighed. Then again, I know I missed something with that Niccolo guy. What the hell?

Daos let his twelve gold drop to ten as he handed her the coins.

She pulled him inside her small tent where a worn and wobbly table sat between two short wooden stools. A crystal ball was set in the center of the table.

Alright lady, what have you got. Am I swindled, or am I wracking my brain around some vague prophecy in the hopes of starting a quest?

The hippie pocketed the gold faster than Daos would have thought, given her scrawny physique, and began moving her hands above the crystal as the sphere clouded inside.

She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, then let out a stuttering breath.

“Two people. No, not people,” she began and then paused, quirking her head to the side.

“Causes? I’m sorry, something is off. It is whirling around and I cannot make it out. Two people, who are not people, will ask you for your help.”

Daos watched as her brows furrowed in concentration, her eyes still closed but darting back and forth behind her eyelids.

“They will be on opposing sides of an issue close to your heart. I cannot see what you will choose. This is very strange, mage. I’m not a charlatan, I swear! But with you, everything keeps shifting as I watch, not letting me hold the threads of your fate for long as they twist and turn and… evolve.”

“So, a super vague prophecy it is.”

“I am not conning you! You must understand, my vision has never been so frayed before. Who are you, mage?”

“Just an Outsider, like any other,” Daos sighed and began to rise.

“Not like any other. Like only a few…” the woman said softly.

Daos stepped outside of the tent and let the flap fall behind him.

So much for those two gold. Ten left. Then again, I suppose Chopper could be considered a person who is not a person, since he’s alive here but dead in reality. And maybe DeathLag, too, then?

Daos turned around to give question to his thoughts, but the space behind him was empty. The tent was gone. There were no stools, nor a table. Just dirt.

Hmph. Okay then. Stop thinking of this like a game that’s out to bore you.  A mysterious fortune teller shows up out of nowhere, tells me something vague, and then disappears. That sounds like the start of a fairy tale if I’ve ever heard one, and that means a quest, or a marker at least.

Daos ruminated on the hippie’s words as he checked a few stalls in the marketplace.

It seemed 10 gold would not stretch terribly far. He could buy one lesser healing potion, or simple things like bandages and herbs.

He kept the coin pocketed, occasionally checking his inventory to ensure he hadn’t been robbed despite Chopper’s reassurance that he wasn’t a high enough level for that to happen, and continued back to the Academy.

“Oi, look at this little mage ‘ere!”

Daos turned to see two thugs exit the same alley where he’d spoken with Niccolo the day before. He sighed.

“I don’t want any trouble fellas, I’m just heading back to the Academy.”

“Like hell you are, not wif those coins of yers, you ain’t. Gotta pay the toll, y’see,” the brute on the left said, slapping his left palm with the billy club he held in his other hand.

“Really? You’re going to mug a poor Acolyte right in the middle of the road,” Daos said, not wanting to feel the brunt of the club.

“You’ll only be poor after you give us those ten shiny coins. Don’t even try to argue, it’s the toll or the brawl,” the shorter, black-haired man on the right said.

The large brute rolled his eyes. “That doesn’t even rhyme, does it? Get off with that. Now, you mage, pay the toll and be on your way.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then we brawl,” the smaller man said with a smile. He only had about half his teeth.

I feel pain here. My shield is decent if I get my orb up. These guys don’t look like normal street trash, though. And who knows if I’ll make my dinner with Atmos if I die? I don’t even know where the graveyard is here, or how long I’ll be out. Damnit!

Daos sighed again. “Fuck it,” he said, grabbing the coins from his inventory and tossing them at the feet of the muggers.

Their eyes went wide in disbelief. They’d apparently expected a fight.

“Don’t think I’m going to forget this, either,” Daos said with a snarl as he turned and stomped the rest of the way to the Academy.

Was I a coward? Or was I smart not to take the beating? Could I have beaten them?

“No. A wise choice,” the voice said in his mind.

This time Daos did whirl around, casting his eyes about the street and rooftops.

WHO ARE YOU?!

Silence was the only response.

With a huff of frustration, Daos entered the Academy grounds.

He spent the remaining hours until his dinner with Atmos back in the library digging through everything he could find about individuals who had forged their own unique Paths.

The information Daos felt was trustworthy was scant, and he sighed as the time came for him to make his way to the Meister’s office.

He’d found mention of a woman who had become a Sinslinger, whose magic was apparently built around causing people to engage in acts of sin, whatever this world considered those to be, using them like weapons.

The Swashbuckler class he’d seen being sold on the forums, man, that feels like a lifetime ago, had a few paragraphs in one of the books, but they only validated what he’d already assumed about the Subclass from its title.

His mood was muddled when he arrived at Meister Atmos’s office and knocked on the door.

“Enter!” the old man called from within.