It took Jasper a good while to finally mutter a response. “No, nothing particularly interesting! All of it was underwhelming. Quite, quite quite underwhelming.” He started getting distracted by his surroundings, staring at dungeon walls, then down to his hands. Rosalind snapped her fingers to ground his attention back to the conversation.
“Yes!” he continued. “That lady said there might be some sort of special item in the, uh…” he shrugged, “...Enchanted Forest?”
Rosalind sized him up. She noted the odd shift in his energy.
“I’m assuming you meant to say the Northern Forest?” she said.
“Yes! That’s the one! The Northern Forest. This game has so many silly names for locations that I must’ve misremembered her.”
Hmm. He was coming across bashful and sheepish, two traits Rosalind would’ve never associated with him in the short time she had known him. Maybe he was thrown off by the scenery change that came with Lady Rowena’s fortune-telling, she thought.
Still keeping an eye on him, Rosalind detached from her lean against the wall, pulled out her notebook, and scribbled. “Ro-wena, North-ern For-est…” she enunciated as she wrote. Jasper dodged eye contact as Rosalind stashed the book back and addressed him. “I mean, it’s not en route, but we could maybe check it out.”
With that, she turned towards the singular pathway ahead of them. “So Rowena’s usually right by the checkpoint, regardless of route, so Murphy should be up ahead.”
“Lead the way, fearless leader!” Jasper said. Rosalind clocked the very uncharacteristic vernacular from him, then pressed on.
It didn’t take long for the duo to notice the sounds of a crackling lantern permeating from deeper in the dungeon. Eventually, the darkness lining their corridor started to see signs of interruption from the speckles of blue flame cutting through.
Turning a corner, Rosalind spotted the doctor standing at the end of a short hall, his back facing a door whose frame was coated with a sparkling golden hue.
“There you are, friend!” said Rosalind, skipping ahead to Murphy.
Murphy softly smiled at the greeting, regarding Rosalind and Jasper, sulking behind her, proudly as they arrived at the door.
“You two were able to keep the pace,” Murphy said. “No matter the challenge thrown your way, you two are able to brave it. Proof, to me, of your noble spirits.”
“No for sure, we were behind you the entire time!” said Rosalind, turning to Jasper in anticipation of a sarcastic response or lighthearted eyeroll. Instead, all she saw was a clenched smile plastered on his face. Weird guy.
“Anyways!” she continued, “We should be on our way!”
Murphy nodded. He opened the hinged door on his lantern and swiftly blew, snuffing out the flame. The group’s only source of illumination now was the speckles of light flowing from the door.
“Behind this door, the cult looking to revive the crooked knight Valentria is gathered. I’ve trailed them for weeks, months, learning their patterns, their habits, their schedules, what makes ‘em tick. I’m not saying this will be easy, but–”
“You’ve never been one to let down Alexandria before,” Rosalind interrupted. She couldn’t help it - interjecting into monologues she was familiar with had become a guilty pleasure.
“That’s right,” said Murphy, nodding and turning to face the door.
He stood still for a solitary moment. Seconds ticked on.
Rosalind softly tapped her foot against the concrete floor, simultaneously, an off-beat tap of her finger against her arm. Nervous tics. She didn’t like standing still. Standing still meant thoughts of an unintentional and often unnecessary nature creeping in. Subconscious thoughts. The worst ones.
Now you’re supposed to ask us to save our progress, she thought. Why are you delay–
“You seem to know me very well,” said Murphy, gaze still fixed ahead at the door.
What the…
Rosalind sputtered out a response from the top of her head. “Oh, you know, I’m just… super tuned into people’s personalities, I guess?”
Murphy acknowledged her words with a tender nod. “Attentiveness. Indeed, it’s a very good trait to have. Yet, I can’t help but feel that this is something more. You seem to regard me the way an old friend would.”
Rosalind tilted her head to the side in confusion. She reached into her pocket to secure her magnetic XPeriential pen and softly tapped Murphy on the back. A holographic text box of code appeared, protruding from Murphy’s person. She eyed Jasper in her peripheral vision, expecting some judgment from him, but he was in his own world staring up at the ceiling with a nervous squint.
I’m gonna need to talk to him about whatever’s going on inside of his head.
She scrolled through the code, noticing a slight twitch from Murphy’s arm as she did. She ignored it. Lines of jargon, words, and numbers disappeared with each swipe of her finger on the pop-up screen, until she isolated the detail she was looking for: the tuning of Murphy’s self-awareness. What was supposed to be a set 30/100 slider for all NPCs had been somehow cranked up to a preposterous 85/100 for Murphy.
Some careless designer probably forgot to tweak it back to normal after doing some tests in the debug room.
She pondered, wondering if it was worth it to make the quick adjustment to his code now before soldiering on. She ‘x’ed out the code box and pocketed the pen. We’re almost there anyways, she thought.
She cleared her throat.
“Murphy, wasn’t there something else you wanted to ask us before we proceeded?” Rosalind asked.
Murphy tensed in place, almost as if he were a Manchurian candidate hearing the secret phrase. “Yes, there is in fact. Would you like to save your progress?”
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“What’dya think partner?” Rosalind asked, cheekily turning to Jasper in the hopes of unlocking some banter. “Got your permission for a ‘yes’?”
It took Jasper, doing his best impression of The Thinker statue with his chin placed on the back of his hand, a few seconds to realize the query was directed towards him.
“Oh! Well, sure, I guess. You are the expert after all.”
“Great,” said Rosalind, a little uneasy at the response. “Murphy, let’s save our progress.”
He obliged, and a chime rang out in the halls to signify a successful ‘save’.
“Are you ready to enter?” Murphy asked.
“Yes,” said Rosalind intently.
Murphy opened the glimmering door. The sound of a soft creak accompanied his action. He stepped through.
Rosalind pinched Jasper back to the present moment before stepping forward to trail the NPC.
“Fair warning,” she said, “I hope you brought tissues.”
Jasper sprung up inquisitively. “Wait! What does that mean?!”
Rosalind ignored, stepping into the new location. She entered a large, rectangular-shaped chamber that stretched far ahead. The walls were constructed of thick, pitch-black bricks. The floor was decorated with aged and broken weapons scattered about below a smattering of cobwebs. Lining the room were various relics - stone podiums, slab partitions enclosing small seemingly insignificant sections of the room, and odd caveman-like murals. Murphy led the way, stepping towards an interesting sight in the corner of the room: a slightly-elevated concrete platform in the far corner of the chamber, where there seemed to be some sort of gathering taking place. The sounds of a choir humming emanated from the assembly..
Jasper stepped up beside Rosalind. “Explain yourself!” he demanded.
“In due time, friend. Why don’t you try to enjoy the show?”
“Enjoy the… enjoy the what?” he asked, confused and incredulous.
She ignored him again, stepping ahead closer to Murphy. The trio closed in on the corner of the chamber as the sight of the cult members became clearer. The eerie gathering, cloaked in dark-black hoods, stood in a half-circle on the elevated platform. They were deep into the soulful singing of an incantation, their cloaks illuminated by the candles arranged in a sigil pattern within the half-circle. A towering portrait prominently displayed on the wall where both sides of the half-circle met. It was a portrait that Rosalind knew quite well: the image of a young Valentria. Rosalind had seen the piece around the XPeriential studio early on during the game’s development process.
The next boss, she thought to herself. She turned to her right and noticed what appeared to be a bead of sweat rolling down Jasper’s forehead. Is he actually scared?
“Psst,” she said to him. “Respond quietly, but… are you okay? You’ve seemed a little jumpy since your little fortune-telling session with Rowena.”
She noticed Jasper struggling with his words, almost seeming conflicted on what to say. He coughed, then finally whispered, “Does the lady speak often of matters concerning death?”
Ah.
“Oh-kay, I think I know what happened. She probably mentioned an upsetting story point that’s coming up, and she probably mentioned it all vague and it threw you off. Sometimes, when the lady doesn’t have any useful information to share regarding item or weapon locations, she sprinkles in some story spoilers. I wouldn’t fret about it too much. Basically, we wasted ten silver. That’s about it.”
“I am asking you very nicely to stop speaking in riddles. What do you mean by story spoilers?”
“What do I mean? Just watch dude! You’re a lit professor. You don’t spoil books by trade, and I don’t spoil games.” She motioned to Murphy as she spoke. Murphy was now on the brink of reaching the chamber’s corner, the gathered cultists unaware of the impending intrusion.
Murphy stopped in place, firmly planting his feet in the location he had chosen. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a match, then struck it. With an incredibly slow move of his arm, he brought the lit match into the lantern, igniting the exposed part of the wick.
The flame roared to life, spilling out a silverish flame that shot forth to illuminate the ritual taking place on the platform. Immediately, the hooded figures turned in response to face the trio, stylized exclamation marks appearing above their covered heads. The crew of fifteen cultists readied themselves, pulling out distinct weapons from behind them: a collection of swords, spears, staffs and shields.
As the antagonistic force stood ready to attack, a singular figure stepped through the pattern of candles and descended down from the platform. The entity was dressed in a distinct purple cloak with elaborate swirling patterns of white adorning it, distinguishing himself from the others in his group. He approached Murphy and crew, the unobscured part of his face wearing a sly smile.
Murphy stood his ground. Rosalind on the other hand, hoping to take in the narrative confrontation she had helped create, was forced to turn around as she heard the sound of scuttling footsteps disappearing into the distance. She spotted Jasper completing his run to one of the other corners of the room, securing himself behind a barrel.
“Seriously?!” she called out, the back of her head lighting up with Murphy’s magical lantern light.
“I just realized that I believe in pacifism!” Jasper called out from behind the barrel. “I must stand up for my beliefs!”
She shook her head, then returned her gaze back to the action. The purple-cloaked cultist had closed the gap and was now standing face to face with Murphy, his crew still gathered on the platform, ready to pounce.
“Dr. Cook! And it appears you’ve brought some friends with you this time,” said the mystery man.
“That’s right,” Murphy responded. Then, Murphy looked down sentimentally. “Friends...”
That’s not your line, Murphy.
“One would’ve thought you’d have gotten tired of trailing us by now? Aren’t you even a little bit concerned about the power of the dark arts that we wield? Actually, I have an even better question for you. Being the philosophical and reflective man that you are, haven’t you stopped to consider the fact that the revival of Valentria will bring us into an age of abundance we haven’t experienced in millenia?”
“There’s a cost to the prosperity you’re describing. The bloodshed of the innocent, the destruction of the world we’ve come to know, our rules and our societies… vanquished.”
The villain steadied his intense glare. “I suppose we can spare the debate. Neither of us are going to have our minds changed today anyway.” Three of the cult’s crew stepped forward to join him.
“Correct,” said Murphy as he leaned his lantern forward, “But one of us WILL die.”
An electrifying guitar riff melded into a sweeping orchestral battle theme that resonated throughout the dungeon. The colorfully-cloaked individual stepped back as the first wave of enemies descended upon Murphy.
Immediately, the battle commenced. Rosalind felt herself shift into place. She was now beside Jasper and Murphy, the three of them standing parallel to each other, defaulting into their idle battle animations. Directly opposite of them, three cultist members assumed their own battle positions.
Rosalind turned away from the battle menu that appeared in her line of sight, catching a glimpse of Jasper already desperately clicking through his menu. She saw him maneuver from option to option, honing in towards the ‘run’ action to presumably return to his hiding spot behind the barrels.
“Just a warning, that’ll be a wasted run, friend! Remember, you can’t escape from boss battles. Besides, Murphy’s gonna carry us home to the promised land. He’s got this.”
“You don’t know that for certain! Just ‘cause you’re smart doesn’t mean you know everything! We can’t put all of our eggs in psycho lantern man’s basket!”
She turned to her right. Murphy, with the lantern extinguished, pulled out a shiny match, lit it to reveal a black flame, and inserted it into the torch. It cast a foreboding and intimidating shadow of flames on the battlefield.
“Actually, Jasper, I do know everything,” she responded.