Psycho could tell from the stars above that they were almost completely around the mountain's eastern side when Jasper stopped them. The human had tried to regain some of his composure in the last few minutes since the ordeal with Marshmallow, but he hadn’t been wholly successful. He was wet, his clothes were torn and sappy, and he had no equipment. Even the straps to his armor had snapped, and he wore only a tunic and pants. His only saving grace was that he could turn down his environment settings, so he didn’t have to be cold like Psycho.
“We are almost there,” he said. Motioning them to be quiet, he led them off the path and up to a collection of snow-covered rocks. They climbed a few smaller stones until they could look over the outcropping.
Draya gasped.
The castle stood about a thousand feet away, glimmering in the starlight. It was covered with domed roofs, crenulated spires, crystal-like angles, and multicolored stained-glass windows. Though, on further reflection, they were probably stained-ice windows.
“It’s beautiful,” she said.
“Yes,” Jasper agreed, “but no one can get to it.”
Psycho didn’t ask questions yet and took in everything he could see. The trail ended a hundred feet further ahead, dropping twenty feet in elevation and turning sharply to the right around the outcropping they now looked over. A plateau stretched 200 feet, covered in ice and snow, which led to a cliff. An ice bridge arched high over the drop-off, spanning nearly 300 feet before it found purchase on the far side where the castle stood. Above and behind the ice structure, the mountain rose even higher, its snow cap shining brightly in the night sky. Toward the top of the bridge, right in front of the castle courtyard, a man dressed in white stood at attention.
“Tell me what usually happens,” Psycho asked.
Jasper nodded. “We will walk down the rest of this path, turn to the right, and see the scene before you. At that moment, before anyone can do anything, the game takes over, and we enter a cut scene.”
Both characters gave him a blank look.
“A severely scripted mode of existence,” Jasper clarified.
Psycho was familiar with heavy-handed scripts, but Draya’s character was designed with less overt angst, and she still didn’t follow.
“Once we step onto that plateau, we no longer have control of our bodies. We walk to the beginning of the bridge, and the shaman you can barely see in the distance walks most of the way across. He stops about 30 feet before us and tells us to leave. Elsa does not want to see us. We might be able to come back in the future, but for now, we cannot access the castle.
“Then he casts a spell, bangs his staff against the bridge Gandalf-style, and an avalanche from the mountain peak behind the castle flows down, covering everything and wiping out the bridge.”
“It kills the shaman?” Draya asks.
“I would guess a snow shaman should be able to survive an avalanche, but if he falls off the bridge, I don’t know how he would survive.” Jasper paused to get back on track. “After the avalanche, the bridge is gone, and the castle is a giant mound of snow. Then the temperature drops and it really starts to get cold. The longer you stay, the more damage you take; even the heartiest player will die in ten rounds.
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“There are precious few spells that will allow you to jump or fly 300 feet, but those who’ve tried it land on the snow pile across the chasm and start freezing to death even faster. No one has even had a chance to attempt to dig through the snow or melt it before they need to expend all their mana to jump or fly back to stay warm.
“Some players are immune to cold damage but lack the fire mana to melt through the snow and rarely can fly. Plus, I’m told the footing on the far side is treacherous, and one wrong step sends you sliding down the mound and into the ravine.”
“Why is this?” Psycho asked. He knew enough about their game environment to understand module design. Jace had told him about the puzzle he had solved to collect the level 50 crystal, and the elf had watched him solve his own quest to find his sister and recall his people. But those had been actual riddles. This was something else. “Why put such a stark dead end to a module filled with action and adventure? It doesn’t fit?”
“There are many theories,” Jasper said. “Some think Gandhi did it because the magical item at the end is too powerful. Some think the designer did it because he got writer’s block and couldn’t figure out how to script the ending. In the children’s tale, Anna climbs the mountain and talks to Elsa about love and loss. Elsa accidentally injures her, and the sisters must reconcile to resolve the winter curse. But, in that story, Elsa is the source of the magic. Here, we no longer think she is, so it isn’t a matter of her finding out how to reign in her emotions or finding love for her sister. Instead, she must tame an object many times more powerful than she is.”
Psycho nodded, and Draya did likewise, though she didn’t understand the nuance of game design. “What if you just kill the shaman before this ‘Cut-Scene’ you talked about?” she asked.
“Like I said, as soon as you turn the corner below and can see him, the game takes control, and you can’t do anything.”
“But we can see him now,” Draya argued.
“Yes,” Jasper agreed, a bit exasperated, “but we are over 600 feet away. Nobody can . . .” but his voice trailed off as Psycho pulled Dragonwing from his cloak.
“Psycho can,” Draya said.
“What is that?” Jasper asked in awe.
The bow was nearly as tall as Draya, made from a dragon wing bone. It glowed faintly red in the night, its many enchantments flaring to life as the elf held it. “This is mine,” Psycho said possessively. “If I find that you told anyone you saw it, I will kill you.”
He said it with such surety that the human never doubted its truth for a second. He stepped back to give the ranger room.
Psycho also pulled one of the level 15 arrows Gromphy had made for him. He was equally protective of these and had gone to great lengths to recover them last time he had made a shot from about this distance. He knew he wouldn’t be getting this arrow back. The elf climbed a litter higher on his perch so the bow could be aimed freely, and he pulled back on the string. He used all the bonuses available to him. He took a full round to Aim. He wasn’t currently in combat mode, so he could Concentrate and ensure a 20 on his next role. He activated his Death Shot. And, for good measure, he hid in the shadows, a task made easier at night. It looked like a light spell might be cast around the castle, but by the time this arrow entered it, there wouldn’t be time for the shaman to detect it.
The archer took a deep breath, held it for a moment, then released the string.
The missile covered the distance in a heartbeat, skewering the shaman’s skull so perfectly that his body barely jerked as it passed through. He stood still for almost a complete round, causing Draya and Jasper to think Psycho might have missed. But, after six seconds, the body slumped forward and slid down several of the icy steps before finding a sufficient gap in the railing and plummeting down into the darkness of the ravine.
“That was amazing,” Jasper said. “I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it.”
“Then there will be no point in telling anyone else, will there?” Psycho said as he stored the bow back in his cloak. “They won’t believe you. Instead, you can fashion your own amazing tail about how you took on a hoard of trolls, buried a pack of werewolves in an avalanche, and tossed a giant snow monster off a cliff. Then you snuck across the ice bridge and killed the shaman before he saw you. The ladies will be lining up for miles.”
Jasper ignored the sarcastic elf but soon wondered what he would tell people.
“Don’t get your tall tale ready just yet,” Draya said, reading his face. “I’m guessing this isn’t over.” She moved past the man and followed Psycho as he and Snowy headed back to the trail and toward the clearing.