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The Chains Infernal
Chapter Thirteen - Morning Regrets and Missing Pieces

Chapter Thirteen - Morning Regrets and Missing Pieces

My consciousness swam back into existence, slowly, the light of day painfully bright despite the fact that I was quite indoors. My head was pounding, and my vision swirled with various shades of regret. An intense feeling of discomfort settled in, and I groaned.

“Ugh, what happened last night?” I mumbled, sitting up. My Game Interface flickered into sight, a small icon of a broken bottle flashing in the corner. The text below it read:

Debuff: Hangover. -15% to all abilities

“Fantastic,” I muttered, rubbing my temples.

Jon was sprawled next to me, face down in the dirt, snoring like a tranquilized bear. I gave him a little nudge, but Jon’s equine flanks continued to rise and fall, not at all acknowledging my attempts. From somewhere else, seeming out of space and time, came the open and shut slam of a door used in haste, followed by the rapid patter of tiny, booted feet.

“Hey everybody. Up and at ‘em! Time to roll out!” Ike bellowed, marching over to Jon and pulling open one eyelid. The centaur gasped and yelped, his hooves scraping against the wooden floor as he struggled to rise.

Finding my feet, my eyes met Jon's in mutual bloodshot suffering. “Morning,” he said to Ike, wincing.

“Welcome to the land of the living,” Ike jested, smiling. “I’m glad to see you all had your fun, because we’ve got work to do.”

From around the communal sleeping area, the rest of the team members rose from their piles of yellow straw, all looking worse for the wear.

A few other fellows were snoring in their own straw piles as well, not a one of them roused by our leader’s actions.

“Up means up!” Ike bellowed. Around the room, bodies flung themselves upright, an automatic response to the suddenly stern military bark of this voice. Brandosyeus managed to stand upright too quickly and slumped back against the tavern wall in an obvious bout of dizziness.

“Alright, folks,” Ike said, the crinkles around his eyes tight and his reptilian face serious as he pulled a worn, enchanted map from his pocket. “We need to talk, but not here. Too many prying eyes and far too many loose lips. Plus Schustak’s not here to bail us out if we get in a scrap with the locals.”

Looking around the sleeping area, I saw other drunken mounds groaning and shifting in their night’s hay, and wondered if any of them were even capable of such feats. But I let it slide—no doubt at least one of them was faking it. Ike walked off and the rest of us followed, lurching forward like a bunch of Frankensteinian monsters.

It was strange watching him. The kobold practically bounded, his steps giddy despite the dangerous he was no doubt about to draw us into. It was like watching a kid get up for Christmas morning. Whatever this mission was, I realized that it couldn’t be half bad.

Ike darted through the tap room and walked us to the door I'd seen him take the other night. Pulling out a key, he unlocked it and held it open so that all of us could make our way inside, revealing wholly different and unexpected interior style.

This new room was comfortable, a place lit by a couple of torches, sparking with something that I instinctively understood to be ever burning fire. Old crates, stacked haphazardly, made a makeshift table and seating area. It was evident that this spot was a frequent meeting point for hidden talks; there was a feeling of privacy to the place that was almost magical.

A thought came to my mind. It quite probably was.

“We're safe here,” Ike declared, breaking me from my thoughts. He pulled a metal spherical case from one of his many belt loops and unscrewed its end. Pulling a few rolled maps from its inside, he glanced over their edges, then selected one, returning the rest to the safety of their case. The chosen one he unrolled across the surface of a wooden crate. I had to squint to get a good look; the magical light of the torches wasn't the greatest and the map seemed to shimmer in the dancing shadows that they created.

But my eyes widened as I made them out. The map was an artistic masterpiece, filled with beautiful graphics, quest markers, geographic features, and even indications of weather patterns, all cataloged and graphed into smaller boxes that indicated seasons and even months. It was a thing of absolute wonder and I’m not ashamed to say that I gawked and gawped.

“Normally, we wouldn’t be given an Adventure Quest,” Ike stated, his eyes scanning each of our faces for any signs of doubt or dissent. “We’re too far into the Empire. Too close to the enemy. But the information I was given tonight, well, this isn’t a quest one ignores.”

The rest of the group leaned in, but I wasn’t so sure. I had bigger concerns—like finding a way back home. The battles, the quests—they were distractions, and now that we were all here in town, part of me wondered if I shouldn’t just peel away.

Especially considering the small ominous feelings I was beginning to have about them all. Schustak wasn’t a good guy; I was sure of that. Especially after seeing that little oversight marble of his that Ike carried. But there was also the money—there was no way they were paying me, stranger, so much money without some really big plans in mind.

On the other hand, I wasn’t sure I really had a choice yet. I still had much to learn about the system, and a quest would give me a powerful opportunity to figure things out while also attaining powerful loot and items.

I decided it was a good idea to sit back and listen, then make up my mind from there.

“The Goblin Empire has learned of an artifact, within a week’s distance of this very town, and they want it. Badly. Which means we want it more.”

Kevinar cocked an eyebrow, barely perceptible in the dim flickering light. “An artifact?”

Ike shrugged. “I’ll let you all decide. But from the sounds of things, it’s something that’ll help us out well in our fight against the Empire.” His gaze turned distant, like he was staring into some unseen abyss, maybe weighing the weight of this quest against some hopeful future. A moment later, the details of the Quest materialized in front of us.

Quest: Retrieve the Eye of the Stormbringer

Difficulty: Elite

Objective: Infiltrate the Temple of Storms and retrieve the Eye.

Rewards: Substantial XP, Unique Items, and Faction Reputation.

Penalties: Possible Death, Loss of Items

Possible Death. Loss of Items. Faction Reputation. The words caught my eye and made me slightly angry. All of this was for the fight against the goblins? I wasn’t a soldier in some rebel army. I wasn’t here to take down empires, find artifacts, or chase down glory. I was here by accident, a glitch in the system, and every second I spent chasing their objectives was another second I wasn’t spending trying to get back to my family. Casey. The kids. They were my reason to keep going, and yet here I was, getting dragged along on a quest.

I could feel my frustration building. I wanted to say something, anything, but I bit my tongue. We don’t have time for this, I thought. What good does this do me? When can I get out of all of this and set off on my own?

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

Yes, Jeldorain’s voice replied, sympathetic and enticing. We should leave them. Find our own way. If we strike them now, they wouldn’t have time to prepare themselves. Our infernal might would ruin them and give us a great deal of good gear and finances.

I didn’t respond. Instead, I pushed back, deep into my own thoughts, forcing myself to think beyond the immediate situation. Were my present companions really friends? I’d only known them for a short time and so much seemed . . . off.

What was my next step?

Sure, Ike and the others had been helpful, but I didn’t owe them my life. My family was waiting for me at the hospital, clustered around my comatose body, and I needed to get back to them. This artifact, this quest... it had to connect somehow, right?

They always somehow connected in Lords of Chaos. They all fit neatly together as stepping stones on the main quest of the hero. I couldn’t help but think that way, that I was being pulled along some game designer’s highway and that, if I did it well, maybe it could help me figure out a way home.

“Ryan,” Ike’s voice snapped me back to the present, pulling me from the depths of my mind. He looked at me with a mixture of expectation and challenge. “What do you think?”

I blinked, caught off guard. Me? What did I think? Since when did I get a say? I was just the guy with the demon inside him trying to make sense of this nightmare. Still, the fact that he was asking meant something, didn’t it? I looked around at the others, watching them watch me, and suddenly felt ashamed about my own thoughts. Yes, I had my own quest to pursue, but Ike had already promised to help when he could, as had Kevinar. After my night with Jon I was sure he would be on board as well.

We just had to be in the right place and at the right time. Then it would be my turn.

“I...” I hesitated, feeling the weight of everyone’s gaze on me. What was I supposed to say? That I didn’t care about their artifact hunt, that I was just here for answers, not their revolution? No, that wouldn’t fly. I needed to tread carefully. Maybe this quest could give me the information I needed. Maybe there was something in it for me after all. I couldn’t just storm off on my own, not yet.

“I think... we need more information,” I said slowly, my voice gaining confidence as I spoke. “This artifact—it sounds important, sure, but what does it do? How exactly does it help us? Can it help me get back to my family?”

The others stared at me for a moment, and I could see the gears turning in their heads. Kevinar’s lips twitched, like he was about to say something, but Ike cut him off.

“You’re right,” Ike admitted, crossing his arms over his chest. “All I need to know is that it will help the rebellion. But you, we’ve been dragging you along without question, just giving little promises to help out. I don’t know if this can help you get back. But I can tell you that it might. And to be honest, fighting the Goblin Empire is probably your best bet over all.”

Kevinar nodded, but the other less informed ones cocked their heads at his response, obviously out of the loop.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

Ike looked me dead in the eye. “The Goblin Empire holds all the cards right now. They control the portals, the magic, the flow of information. If this artifact is what I think it is, it could give us leverage—leverage that could get you home.”

I studied his face, trying to gauge whether he was telling the truth or just trying to manipulate me into helping. But there was no deceit in his eyes, and that same aura of friendly honesty I’d experienced before exuded from his very pores. He meant it. If this artifact could somehow give them the power to turn the tables on the Empire, then maybe—just maybe—it could give me the way home.

Interesting, Jeldorain mused again. My spell can be mislead, but it doesn’t lie. He is telling the truth as far as he knows. I think we should do the quest.

“Alright,” I said, making my decision. “Sorry to sound ungrateful. It’s just been . . . a lot.”

Ike grinned, his teeth sharp in the dim light. “It’ll all work out in the end. Trust me.”

I nodded, feeling like I’d finally gotten some of my bearing. I wasn’t just aimlessly following the group; I had a real goal. Maybe this wasn’t technically my fight, but it could possibly help me get back to my family. And if it couldn’t, busting up the guys who caused all this mess in the first place wasn’t a bad secondary objective.

“Right. Yeah. Alright. So, before we go running off into the dungeon,” Ike said, rubbing his palms together in that way that only small beings brimming with mischief can, “we've got some prep work to do. This mission is Elite level, so we’re going to head out to the market and equip ourselves accordingly. Elira’s taken our extra loot for coin, so we have options.”

I nodded, a tear ripping through my brain and sending a whiskey-flavored belch through my mouth. My eyes touched on the broken bottle hangover debuff still mocking me from my interface, and I sighed. “I'm not sure I'm up for a trip to the marketplace,” I said, the pounding in my head momentarily escalating as if to underline my point.

“You can thank me later,” Ike quipped, throwing a potion bottle my way. I caught it, albeit clumsily, and found myself staring at a vial labeled ‘Elixir of Sobering.' Downing it in one fluid motion, my mind perked up immediately, but not before the sharp, bitter taste hit me. The liquid felt like a strong brew of black coffee mixed with a splash of vinegar, tingling my tongue with a metallic tang. It was earthy, like drinking herbal tea that had gone bad, and left a warming aftertaste, almost like the whiskey that clung to the back of my throat. I grimaced but watched in relief as the hangover debuff icon flickered and vanished from my interface.

[Achievement Unlocked: Hair of the Dog]

+50 XP

Objective: Recover from a hangover in less than traditional ways.

The achievement message surprised me, and I coughed, loudly, staring at the kobold before my suddenly very alert mind notified me of an extremely important fact.

We were missing a member of the party.

“Ike, where's Schustak?” I asked, my eyes scanning the group again to make sure I hadn't just missed him in my previously hungover state.

Ike shrugged, not taking his eyes off the map he had just unrolled. “Schustak has a habit of wandering off. He always finds his way back, especially if there's a reward involved. Don't sweat it.”

His nonchalance was almost infuriating, but also calming in a strange way. It was as if he had said, 'The sun rises in the east.' A simple fact, not worthy of concern.

Which was, itself, strange for a group of apparent guerillas.

“Isn't that a bit irresponsible?” I pressed. “We're in the middle of some dangerous territories, aren't we?”

This time Ike looked up, his eyes meeting mine. “Ah, Ryan. You need to get over this obsession. You’ll find that Schustak is a loyal and dedicated member to our cause.”

I glanced over the others, disbelief mounting. None of them seemed to care one iota about the fact that the goblin of the group had gone off on his own in Goblin Empire territory. For a moment I thought of opening the barrier between myself and Jeldorain, but decided against it. That was something I wouldn’t do unless absolutely necessary.

I raised one thick pointer finger, about to protest the logic of it all, when a notification popped up in my interface:

[Achievement Unlocked: Learning to Trust...or Not?]

+50 XP

Objective: Witness a team member's puzzling behavior and live to ponder it.

I sighed. That was not helpful at all. I saw the rest had started rifling through their inventories, apparating various items and inspecting them with critical eyes, deciding on what was needed and what was not. Each had their own method, I noted, with Ike depositing everything on the floor before him then picking at it like a dragon admiring its hoard. His opposite, Kevinar, took each item out individually, inspecting it before replacing it with something else. Jon was somewhere in the middle with it, taking out small piles at a time, apparently organized by type, while Brandosyeus seemed to simply be checking it all through the game interface, staring blankly ahead and standing as straight-backed as a board.

That last method seemed the right fit for me, I decided, and I examined all three of my items through the small transparent windows of the inventory interface.

There was my weapon, my chain mail, my hooded cloak, and nothing else. A clean start to this dirty business. It was actually a bit freeing not having to decide what to toss or replace, especially since I hadn’t had any quests yet and hadn’t a clue what to grab.

The thought made me grin. That wasn’t absolutely true. The longer I was here and the more I did, the more parallels with Lords of Chaos that I observed. So I’d prepare for this just as I did for quests in the game back home.

Healing potions would take high priority. Those vials of basic red were a mainstay for sure. And I was rather curious about how they would taste. Would they be a sweet cherry? A tart wine? It would be interesting to find out.

Usually the next buy would be pure blue mana potions, but despite having mana in my character sheer, I didn’t seem to have any way to use it. Instead I’d see if they had any stamina potions, since all of my whip abilities were dependent on them. What would they even look like, I wondered, an image of Gatorade coming unbidden to my mind.

I stifled a chortle and moved on. Whatever they looked like, I’d take as many as I could get. It seemed likely that this weapon of mine was going to unlock a number of other stamina-consuming abilities, and I did not want to lose out on using them in the middle of intense combat.

I’d also be on the lookout for anything that dealt with Jeldorain. Suppression, soul removal, whatever it took.

The barrier between our souls shook feebly and I smirked.

Hells, maybe I could find a reason for having mana. There was a lot to learn in this world, and I felt sure that the marketplace was going to be a full-on education.

Backing out of my inventory view, I saw that the rest were putting their things away. Ike clapped his hands together, grinning reptilian canines from ear to ear. “All set? Great! Our next stop is the marketplace. I’ll keep a tally of everything you buy and take that out of your share of the treasure, so don’t go crazy.”

Donning my cloak and raising my hood to obscure my face, we made our way out of the hideaway. I couldn’t wait to get to the market and see what was there.