Ilyich Pieter Sokolov opened his eyes slowly.
Every part of his body hurt. The skewers had shattered his bones, ripped apart his muscles, and prodded into his most sensitive parts. He didn’t want to move. He didn’t want to get up. But with his eyes closed, all he saw was the feral face of that mutant leopard. So he opened them.
Irena stood over him. “Oh, my big bear. That was awful. I couldn’t hardly watch. You must be in agony. Here, drink this.”
The beautiful woman held a large tumbler filled with vodka. Ilyich used his aching fingers to operate his reclined chair, and it sat up slowly. He reached tentatively with his other hand for the glass, his elbow and bicep screaming in agony. Once he had the tumbler, his operator could remove the cap from his head, disconnect the IV bag, and turn off several other medical devices.
The big Russian downed half of the drink in one gulp, the alcohol burning his throat and rushing to numb his extremities. His arthritis had been acting up lately, and this last session would take a while to get over.
Ilyich was a former KGB. As an agent in his 20s when the Soviet Union fell, he had been resourceful enough to embezzle a fortune and store it in European banks such that he never had to work again, but he had gotten bored. Given his skill set, he joined a software company as the head of security and guarded their intellectual property. Computers had been foreign to him, as they were to everyone in the 90’s, but he had learned quickly and became valuable enough to the company that he earned more than he had stolen. Once the R&D department had obtained a few VR sets, he had taken one and retired.
Irena had worked in cyber security for the Russian government. He had tried to steal her away to his old company several times, but she was loyal to a fault. That changed when Russia attacked Ukraine, her home country, and convincing her to work on the cutting-edge technology that drove the Realms of Infamy had not been hard. She was a module designer and had several of the most popular MIMs in the game. Most of Pieter’s wands came from her modules. He frowned when he realized he would have to pass them all again. He had lost too many valuable items in that stupid quest. Lexi would pay.
“Why did you have me put on that worthless necklace,” Pieter asked as he downed the rest of his drink.
“I wanted a better look at it,” she said, a slow smile spreading across her lovely face.
The redhead drove Ilyich crazy. If he were a younger man . . . But she had turned down all his advances. It didn’t help that she had watched all his sexual exploits in the game and wanted no part of that. She didn’t judge him too harshly, but she still said no. It took him a moment to realize her smile wasn’t flirting. “And . . .” he prompted.
“I think I can make one.”
The man sat up a little straighter and stroked his beard. “I’m still not sure I know what it does.”
Projects like this always excited her, and she sounded like a schoolgirl, as she explained. “It takes a brain scan and imprints it onto an NPC so that not only does the game see that NPC as a player logged into the game, but if you know the code, you can log in as that NPC. Your brain scan is your user ID and password all in one. Everyone has a unique one. When you log in, the system finds the character in the game that matches your brain scan, and you take control of it. When you create your character, it is imprinted with your ID, and there can never be two identical player IDs in the game. There are spells like Simulacrum and Puppeteer that make an exception, but the game can keep track of those.”
Ilyich nodded. “So that is how Jace is in an orc? He has a module designer that put his brain scan in a necklace and gave it to an orc; then, when he logged in, the game matched him to that orc?”
Irena shrugged. “Something like that. It seems weird that they would have him occupy an orc when he could have been anything.”
The big man sat up straighter as he understood where his operator was going with this. He set his glass on a table beside him and tried to escape the chair. He winced. He wasn’t ready for that. “But you said you can make one. You can give it to an NPC you design, and then I can inhabit it.”
She nodded. “I’m not sure how everything will work. I’m guessing we will need access to the location where I put the NPC. Like every magical item in the game, it runs on mana and must be active for you to log in. The NPC can’t just be sitting idle in some unexplored SIM. We’ll have to call one of your buddies . . .” they looked at the two empty chairs next to him, both equipped with VR sets. “I’ll design a module with a wizard’s tower, and your friend can climb to the top and meet a powerful level 30 mage who you can . . .”
“Level 50,” Ilyich said.
She shook her head. “Every time I try to make something that powerful, Gandhi rejects it. I don’t know how others are getting their modules approved.”
“They must be more difficult to warrant the prize at the end.”
“But then your friend won’t be able to pass it. What is the highest level of anyone you’ve brought in here . . . eleven?”
“But the wizard won’t need to be a villain,” the man said. “Georgio, Ivan, Lev, or whomever we invite doesn’t need to fight the mage. They just need to meet him. Friendly NPCs can be any level without affecting the module’s difficulty.”
Irena scrunched up her face. “I’ll see what I can do, but it will take a while, and you can’t log in until I finish unless you just want to kill that character.”
Ilyich tried to pry himself out of his chair again and failed. “I probably need a break.”
“Good,” she said and returned to her computer to put it in sleep mode. “You stay put, and I’ll go see if Olga has kept any food warm for you. I bet you’re starving.”
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Ilyich was transfixed by the swish of the young woman’s skirt as she left his den and sighed. What he needed was another glass of vodka. But food would do for now.
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Lexi sat at her private table in the back corner of the mine’s tavern. It was her mine. The dwarves had accepted her as the owner once she had presented the cat’s eye gem. The game only allowed her to wear one necklace at a time, but fortunately, there was enough room in the magical stone for a critical protection spell, so she didn’t lose anything by scrapping her old medallion.
She had also stopped at the item stash location Pieter had shown her. James had been right, and he could review the footage of the mage opening the cave wall, and it only took Lexi two tries to open it. Since it needed to be accessed by a level 1 mage, who often only had less than ten mana, there weren’t many possible combinations. What she hadn’t realized was the chest inside was trapped. She took 100 electrical damage, which would wipe out anyone under level 10 who tried to open it, but she shrugged it off.
Inside was a collection of rings, necklaces, belts, and earrings. Most of it she couldn’t use, but she found a storage belt that appeared as a simple gold chain worn high on her waist. She found she could store her clothing and several potions, and she wouldn’t have to go into her inventory all the time. It didn’t accommodate weapons or armor, but she didn’t use those. It did hold her new flying carpet, but she wanted something even better for that.
At first, Lexi had wrapped the stretch of fabric around her waist, and the rug looked like a Middle Eastern maxi skirt. But it wasn’t her style. Instead, she had taken it to a tailor she had met in a module that had taken her two weeks to complete several months ago. She couldn’t find this shop on any of the walkthroughs, so she wasn’t worried about another player showing up to steal her new favorite item. The crafter insisted he could enchant the item with an illusion spell that would make the carpet look like a fashionable gown. She could wear it, throw it to the ground for a single action, and ride it. It would take a couple of days, but she couldn’t wait to get it back.
The rug acted like a familiar. Before handing it over to the tailor, she had practiced calling it, sending it on errands, and having it carry her through crowded forests and winding ravines. She had named it Persia. It was either that or Doug the Rug. Persia was definitely better. The illusion spell would take up some of its mana capacity, but it was a level 16 item, so it had the room.
Two dwarves approached her table. She wore an actual dress, cinched tight on both sides with minimal cleavage. Both of her visitors were able to look at her without grimacing. “I’ve brought our smithy, as ye asked, Madam,” Drenton said. He was the liaison for the mine owner. He had no authority over the dwarves directly, but he could go places the owner could not and rephrase questions and answers to fit a human player best. He was a level 12 ranger and carried a crossbow most of the time, but Lexi had made a rule that no weapons were allowed in the tavern.
With him was the mine’s crafter. Lexi had spent considerable time going through the setting of this complex stronghold to learn everything she could about it. It was far more involved than her home in the rainforest. She could allocate resources to certain areas, like giving the workers more food, money, or better tools. She could ask for more guards, which would better defend the mine, but then she would have fewer workers. More workers would produce more iron, but it was a waste without crafters to fashion it into something useful. It was like playing the most complex resource management game she had ever seen. And it was right up James’s alley. After a few modifications, the enterprise's head smith went from a level 10 crafter who could only make basic weapons to a level 15 NPC who could make just about anything.
That crafter now stood before her. His name was Bornkel. Lexi nodded toward him in greeting. “I am going to challenge you with this task,” she said, “It might be outside your ability, but I want you to tell me what you need.” She watched the smith’s eyes light up. He was a character who enjoyed a good challenge. Reaching into her new belt under the table, she put the level 20 diamond on the table.
Drenton stood back in surprise, but the crafter leaned in. He stepped forward with his hands outstretched to pick up the gem but stopped and looked at his master. Lexi nodded. “Go ahead.”
The edges of the diamond were as long as his stubby fingers. He turned it over a few times before looking up at Lexi. “What would ye have me craft?”
“A shield,” she replied, “with this diamond in the center. It should be an elemental protection shield, able to absorb fire, cold, lighting, and acid into the gem. Then, once it is full, the user can shield bash their foes and release the energy.”
Bornkel nodded as she talked, understanding everything she said, but his face fell at each new detail. “Aye, that is definitely possible with a gem like this, but not with my skill, I’m afraid.”
“What do you need?” Lexi asked.
“I need everything, madam. I need the spells, gems, gold, a few rare metals, and most of all the mana. Crafting such an item would take more magic than I could produce in a day, but the crafting spell must be completed in minutes. I’m afraid such a request is beyond the resources of this mine.”
“How much would all the components cost?” Lexi asked.
“Too much, Madam; I know this mine only produces iron, and we cannot . . .” his voice trailed off as Lexi produced a large gem bag and plopped it on the table. Precious stones, gold, silver, and jewelry spilled onto the table. It was a small sample of what she had been able to swipe from the cave while escaping.
“Aye,” the dwarf replied, his eyes growing more than before. “That could do it. But I still don’t have the magic. That is something money cannot buy.”
“What if you had help?” Lexi asked. “What if this mine had three crafters at your skill? Could you combine to craft my shield?”
Bornkel snorted and tried hard not to laugh at his new boss. “Madam, I try to be humble, but there is not another of my skills on this side of the Iron Mountains. Perhaps if you went 100 miles south, you might find someone in the Goldhamer clan, but they don’t . . .”
Lexi raised her hand to stop him. James had already told her it was possible. It would cost her nearly all the riches she had stolen from the cave, and they would lose half their miners and soldiers, but if she applied the resources correctly, the mine could sustain three level 15 crafters simultaneously. But not for very long, so she needed to get all the resources together first.
She motioned to the bag of gems, implying that the dwarf should take it. “You get all the necessary ingredients and return to me. I will worry about the crafters.”
The smith took the money and bowed toward her. “As you say, Madam.”
“Good,” you are dismissed. She watched the two dwarves smiling to herself. The Admiral had wanted an item from the Cave of Wonders. She would give him a shield to match his axe. Then, he would owe her a favor.
As she thought about this, Ceriph, the Celtigion young woman who still served as the personal servant to the mine owner, brought Lexi her food. The druid smiled at the young woman, and she smiled back. Pieter had never touched her, but the youth hadn’t liked how he looked at her. “Take a break,” Lexi told her. “Go down and eat with your family.”
She curtsied. “Thank you, Madam.”
As she watched her go, Lexi realized she had a lot of irons in the fire now. She just hoped she wasn’t over-exerting herself. The druid sat back, ate her food, and tried to think of her second wish.
The END
Thank you for reading this story. Please consider favoriting or leaving a good rating if you haven’t already. I have book three outlined and will begin posting soon. Definitely in time for the Writathon in November, if not before.