Leah’s original home was the Kingdom of Paddan. Jace didn’t think it was much of a kingdom, consisting only of a castle and a few surrounding villages. He didn’t know what else he should have expected. The main continent of the Realms of Infamy was a collection of cities and biomes without any central government. They were designed to spawn countless missions and quests for the players and give them a chance to live out their medieval digital fantasies. He knew there were island nations you could visit and go on week-long campaigns where every village, city, and geographic location was intertwined into a single story. But Jace had triggered Gandhi to create comprehensive backstories for each of the four lieutenants in the Gilded Swan, so she had found an empty patch of coastline a few dozen miles south of Portsmith and plopped a “kingdom” on it. Jace assumed the Kingdom of Canaan, where the plague and Leah’s son, Jude, ruled, was much the same.
Jace was also informed that he was entering a MIM with no other player in it. Anyone could conceivably walk here, but access to the travel node was only possible with Leah’s assistance. It was a Level 16 PVP zone, and Jace advised Leah and Rock to stay close. They were levels 10 and 11, respectively, and virtually any hostile creature they encountered might kill them. For reasons only a dominatrix would understand, Esther’s 37 levels of Escort made her a combat specialist. As a level 22 Artist, Leah was the best in the game, but it didn’t do anything for her in a dark alley surrounded by enemies.
They were in the largest village on the west side of the castle. Tall buildings near the wall housed prominent nobles and royal officials. The streets were clean, with lampposts every thirty feet. Further away from the castle stood the shops and taverns, upscale establishments servicing the wealthy clientele. On the other side of those buildings were the gaming houses and brothels, carefully shadowed by the taller, more respectable businesses to hide whoever might be seeking their scandalous wares. Further west were the homes and shops for the lower class, many of whom worked in those nicer service industries frequented by the wealthy.
Leah led the group even further still from the castle where the opium dealers, fortune tellers, and snake charmers plied their trade. If nobles ventured this far, they did so only under the cover of night and brought a retinue of guards with them. It was midday now, and Leah felt confident they wouldn’t encounter anyone she knew. Still, all three women wore hooded cloaks to hide from prying eyes.
Leah walked in the lead next to Jace, telling him which streets to take. Esther had strict instructions from her leader to keep Rock alive. The dwarf was a fighter, but Jace didn’t expect any help from him in a battle. Esther had changed into her armor, with her rapiers hanging in easy reach. Rock shuddered when he looked at her. The beautiful woman had changed from a playful girl stuffing appetizers in her face to the female embodiment of death walking the streets.
Draya walked between the two pairs with explicit orders to use her dragon fire only if necessary. She also acted as a buffer between the witch and the dwarf should Leah wish to use any of her returned wands against her former master. Psycho and Snowy anchored the small procession, the wolf with her nose to the air sensing any impending ambushes while the elf was a heartbeat away from slinging a deadly arrow in any direction.
Their destination was one of the larger one-story buildings on the edge of town. A steady stream of smoke rose from a single chimney atop the windowless black stone structure, filling the air with a sickly sweet smell. Draya informed Jace the smoke was laced with magic, and Gracie told him he had just made the saving throw against the hexing vapor. The rest of his usual crew also saved, but Leah and Rock failed the roll. Jace turned the Dazed witch over to Draya’s safekeeping and told her to dispel the magic if she could.
A young boy, no more than 14, already at level 12, waited for them at the entrance to the building. Jace wore his human disguise, and the youth smiled broadly at him. “Hi ya, friend. What be your pleasure this afternoon?”
“I’m here for your master, inquiring about a curse he sold to my friend.” Jace turned to indicate Leah, who looked high on life at the moment. Draya had no problem dispelling the effects of the incense, but the air was filled with it, and Leah kept failing her save the following round. Jace understood how Ishmael had been able to trick her before.
The boy laughed. “You should choose your friends more carefully,” he said. “That is Leah Jacobs, former princess of our kingdom and then queen of another. Now, she is neither and is not even considered a Lady. Rumor has it she killed her sister and nephew to secure her position on the throne. Who knows what she will do to her friends if she does that to her family? I wouldn’t trust a word she says.”
{You just made two more saving throws,} Gracie told him. {The boy is slick.}
“Princess Rachelle and her son are not dead,” Jace said boldly. “Your master knows this. I want to know where they are.”
The boy frowned, his deception not working on the Honest shaman with high Magic Defense. “He’s away right now,” the boy continued to lie. “He won’t be back until tonight. Come alone with the witch, and maybe we can talk.”
Jace chose a new tactic and walked confidently up a few stone steps toward the home’s front door. “Draya,” he called. “Traps?”
“Yes,” she replied. “A powerful one. I don’t think Esther will be able to . . .”
Jace didn’t bother listening to the rest. He cast a Damage Sink Totem on the roof of the stone building out of sight of the boy, touched the outside wall to link himself to it, and punched the door open. A concussive blast dropped him to a knee as 600 points of damage coursed through him and into the totem above. He failed a saving throw this time, but only barely, and was Dazed for six seconds. Afterward, he braced his hand on the door jam and hauled himself back to his feet. He turned to his crew. “You can enter now,” he said in a strained voice.
The boy's jaw was on the ground, and he didn’t say anything as the other five characters filed inside. Snowy didn’t like the smell of the house and stayed on guard in the street. The boy didn’t feel like hanging around the enormous wolf and hurried after the guests, closing the damaged door behind him.
The inside of the home was dark and damp, the smell of incense rich in the air. Jace kept his pain settings low but had learned through experience that it was good to keep most of his other environmental settings high. The game did an excellent job of warning you when danger was close. The smell of death was pungent.
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Down a short hallway and through a sparse dining room, Jace found Ishmael sitting in a chair by the fireplace. At least the shaman assumed this was the sorcerer they were looking for. He was lean and pale with a dark goatee, a high-collared red shirt, and black pants. The fire beside him burned low with a strange collection of leaves and herbs smoking away just above it. The man had a look of annoyance on his face but tried to change it to one of interest when Leah made her appearance.
“Ah,” he said, his voice dripping with venom, “Leah, so good to see you again. I do enjoy repeat customers. I hope Ivan didn’t give you a hard time outside.”
“Where are Rachelle and Josephus?” Jace said, demanding the sorcerer’s attention. “You have one chance to do this the easy way.”
The man chuckled. “Do you really think that is how to negotiate with me? Everything has a price, but I don’t deal in threats. If you want . . .”
“Draya,” Jace said. “It’s cold in here. The fire is burning too low.”
The intelligent mage understood, shook her wrist free from her long-sleeved red cloak, and threw a fireball at the hearth. Ishmael jumped out of his chair and flattened himself against the far wall away from the spell, fearing the attack was aimed at him. The dragon fire exploded on its intended target, instantly consuming the cursed incense. Instead of a slow, constant release of magic, the aroma filled the small room, many times its original intensity. And now Draya was behind the spell. All her party members failed automatically, and she dispelled those effects. However, Ishmael suffered several critical failures and could barely remain standing.
“Esther,” Jace said, “stick him to the wall. He looks unsure on his feet.”
“Huh,” the woman said, not as quick as Draya.
“A web,” the mage whispered.
“Oh, right,” she replied and cast her spell. Thick strands spread out to cover the stone wall and stuck the sorcerer fast with no hope of saving.
“Psycho,” Jace said, utilizing the skills of all his party members. “An arrow at the ready, please. If he lies, nail him to the wall.”
The ranger smiled and stepped forward with his elemental bow out and an arrow nocked. He would have to distribute his bonuses inefficiently not to kill the man from this distance, but it was possible. Jace ended his illusion and grew a foot in height, his bald orc head nearly touching the low wooden rafters. He stalked toward the Dazed, Terrified, Helpless man and activated his Intimidation skill.
“This is how I negotiate,” Jace said. “Tell me what happened to Rachelle and Josephus. What specifically is the curse you sold to Leah?”
Ishmael tried to talk, but in his current state, he couldn’t. Jace drew Diamond Etcher and carefully cut a few spider strands around his head and mouth until his condition was reduced to Securely Grappled.
“The curse summons Lamashtu, a demoness that steals children.”
“Gracie?” Jace asked quietly.
{I’m on it,} she replied. {Keep him talking.}
“Where does this demon take her prey?”
“To an island,” the sorcerer said quickly. “The troglodytes live there. They worship Lamashtu and put her victims to work as slaves. I get paid by a priest every time I sell the curse.”
“Where is the island?” Jace asked. “How do we get there?”
“I don’t know,” the man said.
“Where do we find this priest?”
“I . . . I don’t know. He appears a few days after I sell a curse. I don’t know from where.”
“He lies!” Leah said. “Elf,” she turned to Psycho, “shoot him!”
The ranger didn’t flinch, trusting his boss and understanding the game mechanics.
{He can’t lie under these circumstances,} Gracie confirmed. {With as many banes as he is suffering and you being an Honest character, he has no choice but to tell the truth.}
“What else can you tell me?” Jace growled, his tusked face inches from the scrawny sorcerer.
“That’s all I know, I promise.”
“No!”
Jace turned toward the scream and saw Leah pull one of her wands and cast a spell at the pinned man. The shaman involuntarily stepped out of the line of fire, even as he wanted to stop the attack. The air shimmered before him as the curse flew toward its victim and sunk into his soul. Jace didn’t think a level 11 witch should have much success against a level 16 sorcerer, but Ishmael’s skin turned to ash, and his eyes rolled back in his head. He appeared to age 100 years in six seconds, and before Jace could fish for a healing potion, the man was reduced to a rotting corpse.
{Once again,} Gracie said, {He had so many banes, he must have failed with multiple criticals.}
“Leah,” Jace started, turning slowly and trying to keep the agitation from his voice. “That was . . .”
“Leah,” Esther interrupted, and Jace let her friend deliver the rebuke. “That was . . . awesome! I never knew you had that kind of power. He just shriveled like a prune.”
The witch stared at her wand in shock, wondering what had gotten into her. Esther looked at her leader to see Jace frowning. “Oh,” she continued in a more serious tone. “And you shouldn’t have done that. Jace had everything under control.”
“No, he didn’t,” Leah argued. “Ishmael was lying. He must know where they are.”
Behind her, Psycho lowered his bow. “I don’t think he did. No one could lie under those conditions. I’m no stranger to interrogations.” Jace watched a shiver of disgust run down the elf’s spine and wondered what kind of torture sessions Drescher had forced him to conduct. “He didn’t know anything more.”
“Then what do we do now?” Draya asked. “This was our only chance.”
Jace came to attention suddenly. “No, it’s not. Ivan.”
“The kid?” Esther asked.
“Yes,” Jace replied. “He’s Ishmael’s eyes and ears on the street. I bet this sorcerer never left this house. If someone in the city knows where this island is, it’s Ivan. We need to get him.”
“He came in right after us,” Rock said. The dwarf had stayed in the back through the whole encounter.
The group turned toward the dwarf and the hallway behind him that led to the entrance. In the silence, they all heard the door creek open.
“Snowy!” Jace bellowed, his orc voice shaking the walls of the house.
As the call’s echo died down, the sound of a boy’s cry reached their ears, and moments later, the great wolf came bounding into the main room, Ivan held in her jaws by his waistband. The familiar navigated past the other characters and dumped the boy at her master’s feet. Snowy didn’t release him as much as she bit more completely through his pants. Ivan fell to the floor with the sound of ripping fabric. He tried to stand but found his pants falling to the floor. He chose to stay seated.
Ivan cowered in fear, the image of his master’s corpse hanging on the wall and the scowling visage of a massive orc crouching before him. “I don’t need to hurt you, do I?” Jace asked.
The boy shook his head, a motion difficult to discern with how violently the rest of his body trembled. “N-n-no, sir.”
“Do you know where the island is?”
“N-n-no, I don’t. B-b-but, but . . .” he spoke quickly in response to Jace’s deepening frown. “I know who does. I can get you there. The island is a plantation. It p-p-produces special herbs and spices. Th-th-there is a captain who goes there. I c-c-can get you a spot on his ship. He owes my master a favor.”
Jace looked up at Psycho, and the elf nodded. The boy was Frightened and should have a penalty against lying, but he didn’t have nearly as many banes as Ishmael had. Jace already knew Ivan had considerable deception skill. His lies outside had been stupid and ran contrary to what Jace knew. Jace understood that when it came to Deception checks, Gracie would only be alerted to saving throws he successfully made. If he failed against a lie and his operator knew about it, that would be a clear notification that the NPC was lying.
“Very well,” Jace said, rising and resuming his human disguise. “Take us to this captain. If I find that you are lying to us, I’ll let the witch kill you.”
Ivan looked up at Leah, who still held the green Disease wand that had killed his master. The boy swallowed hard and nodded. “I understand. I’ll take you there.” He hurried back out of the house, and Jace’s party followed him.