Ivy, Ellie, and James walked together while Ash stalked ahead of them toward the middle of this decrepit town. Her deep frown sprang from the deflation of her estimation of Ash as a person. He had seemed so smart when they chatted and guilded, but now she didn’t know what to think. She hated Marquand’s callous arrogance and treatment of the people who made him rich. The subnets were full of stories about his bizarre and intractable behavior. Some called him megalomaniacal. All this made her approach this experience with a sliver of trepidation, even though the whole thing was insanely cool. How could Ash be so blind? And now she was stuck in here with him.
She sensed Ellie’s concern, even through the altered reality of the goggles. Could this be salvaged? Ellie laid a hand on her shoulder and gave a tilt of the head to follow Ash. How strange it was to see Ellie’s eyes looking out from a mature man’s face.
So they followed Ash past a weathered wooden sign that read: Silver Cove, Est. 1684.
As they went deeper into town, they skirted the rocky shoreline, where wind-battered shacks hunched against the march of time. Rusted, vicious-looking harpoons hung from rusted hooks. She reminded herself that, icky as it was, this story was set during the days of a thriving whaling industry.
A mangy-looking dog of patchwork ancestry peered out at them from under the boards of the veranda out front of the Siren Song Hotel, a place that looked like it contained all of the three rooms the size of shoeboxes. A pair of puffins perched on the eaves overhead.
The air had an odd smell. On one hand it did indeed smell like the salty moistness of a coastal village, and on the other, it retained the artificiality of air-conditioning.
She caught herself getting lost in the surroundings. Ash was right about one thing. This environment was extraordinarily detailed and realistic.
Soon the four of them found themselves in front of a stolid, two-story brick building with iron-barred windows, fronted by two pitiful Greek columns on either side of the front door. Bank of Silver Cove. It was the least rundown of any building in town as far as they’d seen, but still was not immune from the pervasive sense that better days had long since passed. Next door stood a two-story wooden building of a statelier mien than the others with a wooden sign that read Mairie. She didn’t know any French, but apparently her character did. An augmented reality tag appeared beside the sign: Town Hall.
The flashing arrows pointed into the bank.
The GM’s hunky male voice came into her ears. “Your group has been summoned to Silver Cove by Bank Manager Howard Winthrop, on the promise of a substantial fee if you can help with his problem, one that requires significant discretion…” The voice trailed off with dramatic gravitas.
Ash opened the door and gestured them through with a bow. “Ladies first.”
“We only have one of those,” Ellie said with her deep, masculine voice.
“Quite right,” Ash said. “Apologies.”
“Thank you, dear boy,” Ellie said as she strode into the bank.
James looked disconcerted in ways he was still figuring out, probably related to Ellie’s change of visual gender, which amused Ivy greatly. Her brother had a lot to learn about women.
Inside the bank was dimly lit with a few oil lamps, with gray natural light spilling through grimy windows. Behind a set of iron bars, a tired looking teller, a spindly, rat-faced man wearing an ill-fitting suit and a pince-nez, woke up from a nod and addressed them. “May I help you?”
Ivy wondered if the teller was an actor who was physically present or a complete digital fabrication. How could she tell? If she tried to touch him, would the gamesuit make her feel like he was there, even if he wasn’t?
Ash strode up to the counter. “We’re here to see Howard Winthrop. I believe he’s expecting us.”
“I’ll let him know you’re here.” The teller tottered from his seat, came out from behind the counter, and knocked on door that bore a placard saying Manager.
“What is it?” came a snarl from inside.
The teller cleared his throat. “The, um, specialists you sent for have arrived, sir.”
The door opened to reveal a short man with hunched, rounded shoulders, barrel body, thick, flabby lips, and watery, basset-hound eyes. But the eyes were not sleepy; they were sharp with appraisal, glancing over the quartet. “Well, come in then,” he said impatiently, gesturing them into his office, where he took his seat behind an expansive, hardwood desk. Ivy couldn’t help touching it as she followed Ash into the room. It felt as real and solid as she would expect from a real one.
“Please, sit.” He gestured to the wooden chairs before his desk. Gray light spilled through the grimy panes of the single window, the glass distorting the view of the rocky shoreline in the distance. “Thank you for coming all this way. The trip to Silver Cove can be quite arduous. My name is Howard Winthrop.”
They introduced themselves in turn, using their character names.
“Ash Blackburn.”
“Ivy Holliday.”
“Elwood Velásquez.”
“James the, uh, the Magician-al.”
Ivy suppressed a chuckled and glanced at her brother, who appeared to be fidgety.
Along one side of her vision, Ivy noticed a list of her skills, some of which were highlighted, including Psychology, Persuade, Intimidate, Investigate, and Con.
A small window popped up.
Skills available for use in a given moment are highlighted in your Game HUD. To use a skill, focus on it, then blink twice. For social skills, you will be given various conversational options to choose from. You may also try your own social skills, and if they apply the game engine will notice and apply them.
What would happen if she just tried to deck this guy, or shoot him? She’d hardly be the first player to torpedo a carefully crafted game scenario out of sheer assholery. It was the kind of thing her brother would do.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
Ivy thought she would give her first skill check a whirl. She focused her gaze on Psychology and blinked twice.
Another box appeared in her vision.
Successful Skill Check! Gain 3 points to increase your Psychology skill! Under his arrogant facade, Howard Winthrop is plagued by worry. It is very important to him that you help him with his problem, and his problem is as big as it is delicate.
Winthrop was already speaking. “…thank you all for coming. Your talents and discretion come highly recommended.”
“So tell us why we’re here,” Ash said, going full private eye persona.
Winthrop cleared his throat. “Cutting to the chase are we? Yes, very well. Silver Cove is one of the oldest municipalities in North America. It was founded by some of the first French settlers in Newfoundland—”
“Oooo, we’re Canadian!” James said.
Winthrop raised a caterpillar eyebrow. “It was my understanding all of you are Americans. We are a long way from New York, are we not?”
“Well, you know, I’m half Canadian,” James said. “On my mother’s side, eh?”
“Indeed?” Winthrop said with a sniff of disdain. “In any case, our little fishing town was ceded to Britain after the French and Indian War. Nevertheless, Silver Cove’s central family, the Delacroix, have maintained their holdings, wealth, and estate since the late 1700s. As you may have gleaned, however, our town has seen better days, especially since the regrettable collapse of the whaling industry.” His face brightened, and he looked into the distance of memory. “Ah, if you could have seen this place in its glory days. But alas, I fear they will never come again.”
James fidgeted and frowned. “So are you going to tell us why we’re here or what?”
“I tell you this not to bore you, my good man,” Winthrop said, “but to impress upon you the need for complete discretion. If I may continue?”
James crossed his arms. “Fine.”
“The welfare of this town, if I may be so blunt, hangs upon the wealth of the Delacroix family. Their wealth supports this bank. Their fishing boats ply these coastal waters, manned by families who have worked for them for generations, going back two hundred years, all the way back to Jean-Paul Delacroix. Their coin is the lifeblood of this town. But they have not been immune to the vicissitudes of maritime fortune, although one mentions this to any of them at great personal peril. They are a proud family.”
Ivy looked around Winthrop’s office, the shabby paintings on the wall—uninspired land- and seascapes of minimal skill— the bookcase full of ledgers. She blinked twice on Investigate, a skill she’d boosted, hoping to notice important details.
Successful Skill Check! Gain 2 points to increase your Investigate skill! The ledgers on the shelves go all the way back to before 1700, at which point the spines become so worn and ancient they are illegible.
Winthrop cleared his throat again, a wet, gurgling sound that made his voice thick and throaty. “The most valuable thing that the Delacroix family possesses, even more valuable than their mansion, is the Delacroix Diamond, a jewel of legendary size and beauty, discovered by Jean-Paul Delacroix on one of his many sea voyages, and brought back here to serve as a stake for building a dynasty.”
“Have you ever seen it?” Ellie asked.
“Of course,” Winthrop said.
“Can you describe it?” Ellie asked.
He held out a pudgy fist. “About this size, with a slight, uh, green cast, not unlike the Dresden Green diamond. A truly extraordinary treasure. Nothing else like it on earth. Driven by a series of financial misfortunes, the family offered it as collateral on loan with the bank, just a few years ago, to pay for some extensive renovations of Château de Delacroix.”
“So where is this diamond?” Ash asked.
Winthrop’s throat burbled again. “Well, that is why you’re here, isn’t it. It has apparently disappeared.”
“Apparently?” Ivy said.
“They have reported it stolen. Most foully burgled.”
“So why are you hiring us, and not them?” Ivy said. “Don’t they want their stone back?”
“It is more…complicated than that, miss,” Winthrop said. “You see, as it was collateral for the loan, the stone was insured, but…” His voice trailed off as he searched for words.
Ivy said, “But you think they’re lying about the theft.”
His gaze fixed on her with genuine appreciation. “Very astute, Miss Holliday. Would it not be quite advantageous for the Delacroix family to gain the insurance settlement money and pay off the loan? I would then expect that, after a generation or two, the diamond would miraculously reappear, long after any perpetrators and victims have passed on. They are a family that ‘plays a long game,’ is that the turn of phrase?”
Ash said, “So where was it when it disappeared?”
“In a safe at Château de Delacroix.”
“Wait,” Ellie said, leaning forward on her cane, “if the diamond was collateral, why didn’t the bank have it? That’s…irregular, isn’t it?”
Winthrop fidgeted. “Indeed, it is bank policy to have done that, but we…I made an exception at their request.”
Ivy clicked Psychology again.
Successful Skill Check! You have already received a skill point advancement in Psychology for your current level. Winthrop is worried because in allowing this ‘irregularity’ he is now responsible for the diamond’s loss. The insurance company will hold him liable.
“Who in the Delacroix family made the request?” she asked.
“It was Gilbert, the…head of the household. He can be…most persuasive.”
Ivy clicked Psychology again, hoping for enlightenment on his pregnant pauses. She really loved how these character skills worked.
Winthrop’s inscrutable facade settles into place. Further investigation will be required.
Damn.
Ash said, “And you want to hire us, outsiders, strangers, rather than your august, local constabulary because…?”
Winthrop’s voice hardened. “Because our ‘august, local constabulary’ amounts to a drunkard sheriff and his fool deputy. You’re welcome to talk to them, but you’ll get more help from seagulls.”
James looked disappointed. He met Ivy’s gaze and mouthed, This is so lame! No doubt he was hoping for orc hordes or machine-gun battles here in Karnath’s Crimson Castle.
“At the very least,” Winthrop went on, “I am engaging your services to uncover what really happened to the jewel. If it was truly stolen, uncover the perpetrator. And, most importantly, if possible recover it. Have I made myself clear?”
Ash said, “You have, Mr. Winthrop.”
“Do you accept, all of you?” Winthrop asked, looking at each of them in turn.
Ivy nodded. A smile of anticipation curled the corner of her mouth. She loved a good mystery. Her grandmother had given her a set of Encyclopedia Brown books when she was a kid, and she loved Nancy Drew and the Clubhouse Mysteries. Her insides fluttered with excitement.
A gleaming wall of text appeared in her vision, with another minor-key orchestral fanfare.
Quest Issued! The Mystery of the Delacroix Diamond Your mission has three levels of success, each with greater levels of reward should you succeed. Level 1. Discover who purloined the jewel. Level 2. Discover the motive behind the jewel’s disappearance. Level 3. Recover the Delacroix Diamond.