:10/05/2251:
1:32 PM
My mind wandered as I flew. I remembered my own image on the Newscasts, the commentary and the questions they had addressed. Somehow, the more my mind dwelled on the details, the more impossible it had all seemed. They had cut and edited my feed professionally, but not to make me look bad. Quite the opposite, the more I considered the last couple of days the more I realized how everything had just... come together. And no one seemed to have a bad word to say about it.
Initially, I had chocked up the thoughts to my own paranoia, being so used to a desperate, frantic search for acceptance, swimming up current, that I was unable to just relax and accept that sometimes good things happened too. And yet... I knew in my heart that of the hundreds of thousands of players who had been in possession of Undercity artifacts, only I had ended up with one that could grow a new city. More, not only did I receive the Orange, but I now proudly wore three other items of actual Artifact grade, despite my luck score remaining at an abysmal '1'.
Statistically, it wasn't just improbable. It should, in actuality have been impossible. Legendary items were rewards from quests that often took years to complete. Entire carriers had been build on documenting ways of finding and qualifying for them and documenting ways that they could be completed. Artifacts tended to be rarer still, and yet not only had an entire faction been given access to them, I'll be it a fairly small fraction of players comparatively, but I myself had wound up with four.
Moreover, putting aside the statistical issues and the strangely glowing image the newscasts were building of me for a moment, the Lost City perks seemed like not only had they been crafted to keep our faction alive, but they were easily overpowered enough that our little faction seemed to be growing by the day, driven by the promise of bonuses, buffs, classes and technologies that had hitherto remained mostly the province of NPCs.
At first, I had assumed that they were building us up to be the bad guys, to keep a sense of dynamic conflict in the game by ensuring our survival. But these later perks were just too good, too powerful, to have been crafted simply for our survival. Moreover, why was I being portrayed so positively in the media if the intent was to keep Chaos the faction of the misfits and the sociopathic misanthropes? Wouldn't they have painted me darker, asked more telling questions, given more screen time to the good armies of Elves and Light?
No, it had been quite clear that morning that the media was still highlighting our city, playing up our growth even more than I could have hoped that acted as, I would say if I didn't know better, unpaid commercials for our faction without giving equal time to our enemies. Other, of course, than to highlight how much they hated us and how much Queen McBeal was willing to pay to see me dead.
No, as much as I had started to let all of this success go to my head, prancing around town like I was Queen of the world, making grand plans like I was somehow responsible for my own success, there was nothing to keep that going as I flew over the deciduous trees of the Elven forests. There was no one to stare at me in awe or in fear, no newscasters to play up my mystery or endless notifications of city menus and upgrades. There was only the sound of my wings in the wind and the quiet serenity of the world far below.
No, the quiet finally settled about me, cloaking me from the world and at the same time letting me so clearly from high above. I was a pawn. Not of Alley, there was no way that she had the kind of pull it would have taken to set me up as I had been, or she would have used the power to save her own city. And yet it had to involve her, somehow, I knew it in my heart. Because otherwise the question of 'why me' would have been even more unanswerable than I could have imagined.
I pieced together the different pieces slowly as I flew, more letting them fall together on their own than actively trying to worry at them. Alley was formerly associated with the Syndicate and had worked with Gray to use me for an experiment. Somehow the two of them had managed to remove me from direct Syndicate oversight and control, something that hadn't happened with the original test subject for their little experiment with AI. Moreover, they likely had a hand in my sudden extreme boost in both power and popularity, which seemed to indicate that they weren't scared of my being identified or ferreted out by the Syndicate itself despite my illegal mods.
When Gray had originally written to Alley, he said that she was involved in a project that was 'barely worth her time'. Was that project DDO? Or had they both moved to DDO after Gray had told her about his experiment? And if they had, was there something about this game that allowed them to adjust their experiment and blatantly avoid even a fear of Syndicate oversight?
I started thinking about the game itself, this time not from a historical perspective, but from a practical one. Five years ago, when the company had started absorbing other games and integrating them into DDO, it had been a marked point in the rise of interest and popularity invested in the game. So it was a smart business move, but from the perspective of people like Alley and Gray, people working in highly illegal mods that could run without fear of oversight even from the highest levels, wouldn't the vastly expanding game code serve another, darker purpose? Because when the scripts, the engines, and the various worlds were all combined int a giant mess of programming, wouldn't that in and of itself make it nearly impossible for anyone to track down individual modifications? Especially if the AI running it turned out to be nothing more, as Gray had indicated, than synthetic human minds?
Based on my experiences so far, it was clear that Alley had been better connected than it had seemed. And yet... thinking back to that day and her final speech in the boardroom, I couldn't shake the feeling that her desperation and anger had, in fact, been real. She had admitted as much in her letter. And that meant that she wasn't some head honcho, or even some head honcho's wife, silently pulling the strings. She couldn't even save a fully upgraded, established town when she had full access and authority over it, after all.
The more of the pieces I started fitting together, the more I realized just how many pieces I was still missing. And as much as I chafed at the thought of being a pawn to parties unknown for some unknown purpose, likewise I found that I couldn't complain about the benefits of that position. And, more, considering the fact that Alley may not have... almost definitely didn't... share all of the details of my own personal changes to whoever it was at the helm, it was very, very likely that I still had a massive ace in the hole with Em.
Yes, playing along with this little charade had its perks, but more importantly, it was the most efficient way of collecting more pieces for my little puzzle. And until I was able to put more of it together, there was no way I was going to abdicate my throne in some childish act of defiance. Regardless of my sudden, nagging feeling that I was little more than a puppet queen.
And there was no denying that I was. If a leader and a tactician had been wanted they would have given the Orange to Blinky. If they had wanted someone to cry havoc and unleash the dogs of war they could have chosen Olga. Hell, if they wanted someone to rule quietly and strike from the shadows, shifting the balance of power on this side of the world, Steve probably have done it with half as many of the perks and whistles as had been gifted to me as Queen. No, they had chosen not only a company employee but the single most Junior employee, just then even promoted from an intern. They had chosen someone without even a full complement of class skills, who would be blinded by the success and the popularity because those were the exact things that they had been craving above absolutely anything else.
No, it was suddenly clear to me that I hadn't been the perfect leader, nor the perfect warmonger, or perfect strategist. The only thing I was better than anyone else in the company at was simply being someone's pawn. Weak enough to be easily lead with just a little nudge in the appropriate direction, yet naive enough that I could also be blinded by piling on the bonuses and the praise.
These were the thoughts that followed me as I landed upon the shores of Lake Mysteria, just outside the hut of Esmirilida the Bright.
:10/05/2251:
3:02 PM
I followed the long, graceful steps of Esmirilida the elf. She had been friendly, almost overly so, when I had appeared at her hut. Thankfully, she seemed immune to the faction discrepancy and, while she was famous for her distaste for politics and disregard for faction ties, it was still a relief when she had greeted me with a smile and not a sword in my hurt.
As I followed along, realizing that my time had run out and the world would notice that I had left the safety of my Dementia. Rather than distracting me though, it seemed to motivate me, forcing myself to press through the pain of the dance. It was all the turns and Pirouettes of ballet, and lacking anything in the way of shoes, it seemed as though the toes of my feet would have snapped off under my weight after just the first few minutes.
Turn, step, turn, pose, pointe, walk, pirouette... turn, step, turn, pose... on and on it went. Yet it seemed almost like I could hear the sounds of the hounds in Anthera being released upon the wilds and the hoofbeats of the hunters, released to find their prey. And so I didn't stop, I didn't pause or hesitate even as the warmth of blood started to warm my feet, leaving a muddy trail beneath me as we continued our beat.
In a little over an hour, my increased dexterity and stamina proved to be worth their weight in gold, and I was rewarded with the status notification that, once again, swallowed my world in darkness.
Arch-Druid Ability Unlocked!
Marionette Aura (Legendary)
1 Second Activation: Upon activation, Marionette Aura stuns hostile creatures in radious for 1 second.
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
While Active: Has a chance to apply the following effect to all hostiles in a thirty-foot radius:
Charm: Living Creature is possessed by a spirit of nature, allied to the Arch-Druid. Potency and duration of this effect is determined by Charisma.
While Active: Applies the following bonuses to the caster:
Resolve: Immunity to mind control effects and abilities.
Child of Nature: Nearby beasts and magical creatures will be drawn in to provide assistance to the Arch-Druid
Legendary:
Passive effect: For 10 Minutes after Active Channeling ends, the following effect will be applied to the caster:
Child of Nature: Nearby beasts and magical creatures will be drawn in to provide assistance to the Arch-Druid
Restriction:
Only one active and one passive Aura may be maintained by the Arch Druid at any time.
As I finished reading, I waved the update aside and looked around me. I was still standing next to the lake, there was still forest on every side of me, and the Druid's hut was still exactly where it had been but moments before. And yet, where Esmirilida had been standing moments before, there lay the long body of a white unicorn.
Trial Of Compassion
"Um... hello there?" I started, slowly moving toward the beast. It didn't respond, but it didn't move to run away either, and as grew closer to the pure white creature, I noticed that there was a telling stain of blood down her back legs.
"Are you hurt?" I said softly, slowly spinning into the smooth steps of my Lifegiving aura. I danced for a good thirty seconds, but yet the unicorn did not move. She just lay there, looking at me with those large, lonely eyes, until I finally stopped.
No, I realized, it couldn't have been that easy, could it. Edging closer, I held out my hand for her to smell, careful not to startle her. Thankfully, it seemed to have been the right move and she, after only a few moments of hesitation, began to nuzzle the fingers of my hand.
Wishing I had something to give her to eat, there I stood for several seconds, staring in wonder as the magical creature lay there before me. It was only as I began to wonder what it was that had heart her, what it was that had caused the blood now staining her hair, that I heard the sound of movement through the trees.
Slowly, I took a step back, smiling at her before I turned away. Drawing my rapier, curling my brass spikes wickedly overhead, I readied myself even as the sounds came louder and louder.
Finally, through the edge of the trees, emerged the hulking form of a brutal ogre. It didn't go around the woods so much as it went through them, leveraging it's full twelve-foot bulk as it crashed through the vegetation.
It paused when it saw me, eyes squinting in some, apparently, difficult sequence of thoughts. Looking me up and down, poised there so small beneath it, it spoke, "Who you?"
Typical, I thought. Nothing like keeping racist notions of ogres with low intelligence scores alive. Still, I supposed it sufficed to support the fantasy of the world, "My name is Magpie Frost, Arch-Druid, and Queen of Dementia."
It paused and scratched its head as it stared down at me, "You queen of crazy? Coo Coo Queen Meg...pie?"
In spite of myself, I snorted, "Ya, I guess. Something like that."
He frowned further, eyeing me, "Why you in me way? Want go crunch, crunch pretty horsey flesh."
I raised an eyebrow, moving slightly to stand directly in front of the snow-white beast. "That's not going to happen today, monster. Go crunch crunch some place else." Suddenly realizing just how much bigger he was than me, I quickly added a "...please?"
The ogre grinned, exposing large, flat teeth that seemed more plaque than bone, "I share with Meg-Pie? No want to eat the Meg Pie, want horsey pie." His eyes thought for a moment longer, than brightened as if he had just had the idea of his life, "Me share horsey pie! Meg Pie can Druid crunch-crunch horsey pie heart! Me can crunch crunch rest!"
It... actually wasn't an offer that didn't come with a certain amount of temptation. The other scenarios had all ended with me, essentially, eating a heart, and striking a deal with the ogre, seemingly, would allow me to claim a Unicorn's form with very little fuss. Still... it didn't seem right. And considering the title of the instance, the 'Trial of Compassion', I knew that was probably not the actual right answer for me to give.
I shrugged, "I think I'll have to pass, beast. I'm kind of full you know. I had a big lunch."
My answer seemed to confuse him again, and he thought for a good thirty seconds about what I had just said before his eyes glazed over in rage. "Mag Pie no stop me crunch-crunch sweet horsey pie! Me eat the Mag Pie too! Then me have more pie!" And he charged forward.
I did not wait for him to get close enough to smack me with those huge arms of his. Instead, I jumped, shifting in the air and flapping raven wings in his face. He seemed confused, for a moment, as I darted past his arms and felt my body slam against the solid bone of his head, and I used that to climb up even higher. Up and up I darted until, curling my wings and tumbling into a dive I made sure that he had not yet moved, staring up at me and reaching out with his bulging arms and two-foot hands.
Before I was half way down, I shifted back into my Nymphan form, trapping my rapier between both hands and pointing at his rapidly approaching form. His hand, surprisingly quick, flew at me in the final moments, but I was quicker still. Each bronze tipped tentacle found purchase ahead of me, stabbing deeply into the flesh of the ogre's shoulders and back. My outstretched limbs of fungus steadied me, balanced me, in those final few moments as my rapier buried itself between the bones of the creature's neck.
It was a massive critical, and the creature fell beneath me. The tentacles clung on, desperately holding me steady until it's massive bulk hit the ground and sent me rolling away. I found myself unsure whether my little sandwich knife would be able to cut through the creature's thick, rubbery skin, and it was with little hesitation that I started burrowing long, Dire Wulfin claws into the soft skin of the monster's stomach.
I was about half way through, Ogre intestine and bile spilling out of its torn flesh and onto the ground around me, when the creature awoke. I didn't see it's flickering eyes, I didn't feel the subtle rise and fall of its chest over the burrowing of my elongated claws. It wasn't in fact until the back of the creature's fist collided with my shoulder that I even realized that it wasn't if fact dead.
54 Damage received from Fist (21 Absorbed)
HP: 56/110
Finding myself flung backward, head over foot, I instinctually shifted shapes back to the more familiar naked, pink skin of the Nymph. I realized my mistake moments later, as I felt the air rushing by the bare skin of my legs and feet.
My tentacles stretched out in all directions until finally one of the bronze claws began to drag along the ground. Instinctively, the other seven shot downwards, burrowing in the moist soil around the lake, flipping my freefall into a cartwheel as I twisted around in the air and tumbled to my feet.
As the Ogre screamed its rage, one arm holding in his entrails, he began to charge. I gazed longingly at the handle of my rapier, still buried to the hilt inside of his neck, and braced myself as the massive beast blurred toward me.
Seconds before his fists once again collided with my body, I jumped, using my elastic tentacles to spring myself a good ten feet in the air. He frowned for a moment, as I hovered overhead, squinting his eyes as if to figure out how such a little creature had managed to jump so very high. With a flick of my wrist, my hands grew the hair and claws of my Dire Wulfin form, and as each of my brass claws sunk into the flesh of his arms and face, I ripped my claws across his neck. In the back of my mind, I noticed that the faint, green fluid spilled out, not only from where the claws had torn his skin, but also where my brass extensions had burrowed into his flesh.
Smiling, I realized that the brass tips somehow counted as 'natural weapons', and were triggering the 'Serpent's Bite' ability that added poison damage to the attacks. Holding on now with my claws inside of the creature's neck, I stabbed it over and over and over with the brass spikes, and though it quickly seemed to heal from every pointed strike, as I could see its abdomen healing before my very eyes, still the creature began to slow. To weaken.
Finally, after dodging more swipes of the creature's brutish fists than I had dared to count, I finally felt it slow to the point that I risked slipping one claw out from its neck. Shifting the long, Wulfin fingers back into my human hands, I caught the hilt of my rapier with my left, even as I clung desperate to the monster's gaping trachea with my right and started twisting and stabbing with the sunken blade.
When the creature once again fell, sprawling across the ground with a final, rasping breath, and allowing the contents of its bladder to spill upon the coast, still I stabbed it over and over again with the poison of my brass before I allowed myself to take a single breath of relief.
As I bent over, panting and huffing, I barely noticed as the unicorn rose from her position along the shore. She limped over to me even as I coughed for breath through broken ribs, until she stood only a hair's breath away.
I glanced up, smiling weakly into her large, sad eyes even as she kneeled down in front of me, lowering her horn and touching it gently against the skin of my feet.
Class Feature Unlocked!
Druid of the Unicorn
"Your stalwart heart beats to the rhythm of the aether. You have discovered the Arch-Druid's Compassion and claimed the miracles of the unicorn for your own."
Feature Unlocked:
Chastity: You have been granted purity in body and mind. Spell resistance 25%.
Mystical Nature: Auras and Words of Power may now be used while shapeshifted.
Hearts of Magic
Unicorn-Form Acquired
As my vision swam black I read the notifications. They were, in fact, everything that I had been hoping for and more. And so I was smiling, grinning really, ear to ear as the world lit up and came back into view. Only this time, instead of a unicorn, I was standing on the banks of the lake surrounded by a half dozen soldiers wearing the royal green of Queen McBeal.
Before I had finished sucking in a breath I felt my body freeze, tightening within invisible chains of magic. I stood there, staring at the gleaming swords in front of me before the cloaked figure stepped in front and blotted out my view.
"That was easier than I had anticipated," the low, gravely voice of the wizard said, with a bored, condescending tone. "All right then, get to it."
I tried to struggle, I tried to shift, I tried even to scream, but even though my lungs burned inside my chest, I couldn't move so much as a hair. And my lungs were, it turned out, the least of my concerns. Firey lines of agony etched my wrists, even as I felt someone's dagger prying apart my lips. The desperate struggles for breath were forgotten in the bitter agony that assaulted my arms, moving to my mouth and digging daggers deep inside my throat.
20 Damage received from Axe
HP: 36/110 (You are crippled! You are Bleeding!)
15 Damage received from Dagger
21/110 (You are mute! You are Bleeding!)
10 Damage received from Fire (You are no longer Bleeding!)
11/110
5 Damage received from Fire (You are no longer Bleeding!)
6/110
Even as the spell lifted and I found myself huffing madly for breath, I screamed a low wail of agony. I tried to collapse down on the ground even as the traces of magical fire fizzled out across my arms, inside my throat. And yet I was not even granted that release, a firm set of arms catching me and throwing me across the back of some horse.
There was a snickering, as my senses spun, and I recognized that the wizard had been speaking. "...won't be able to work her menus without hands or a tongue. Someone get the ointment, I can't take her feet until we've healed her up a bit."
I felt something cool and soothing against my wrists... my stumps... before agony once more ripped through my legs and, in the swirling rivers of pain, I was given the mercy of passing the fuck out.