Shackled, p.4
Shackled, page 4
“You’ve had an idea.” Her voice sounded strange. Was she… smiling? The only time she smiled was when she was manipulating someone or on New CEO Day. Dave missed Lars, God rest his soul.
“That’s it. The engram recall for System Menu is a reinforcing algorithm. It starts out permissive so new players can get into the menu with little fuss, but then it tunes the model to the difference between the first captured engram and the second. It trains itself to respond by training the user to subconsciously mimic the same engram that was initially supplied! That means…”
“He’s out of practice!” She sounded happy. Ecstatic, even. That couldn’t be good. This theory wasn’t even really good news in the grand scheme of things. What was she seeing that he wasn’t?
“Normally, the algorithm would nudge him in the right direction if he was supplying something close to the right engram but not matching exactly. But he hasn’t even thought about logging out for so long that his initial memory engram was too far from baseline to register. His brain had to self-correct, like riding a bike after you’ve grown up. You can do it, but you won’t be steady for a little bit. Dave, this is wonderful news!”
“Ma’am?” He just wasn’t getting it.
“Oh, fine, make me ruin the surprise. It means the memory engam he thought he was using wasn’t the one he’d used before. It means he’s starting to forget that the system menu even exists. It means that, if Night Terror works like we hope it will, then we’ll get it. One. Hundred. Percent.”
“That’s amazing, Doc. Remind me again why we want that?”
The line was already dead; her attention had passed to something else. Dave was glad of that.
Chapter Eleven
Castle Bright, City of Sunblade, Kingdom of Eastmere
King Latimer definitely looked like one of those “heavy is the head that wears the crown” types. The man wore his weariness like a cloak that went over his real cloak. Korrash sat through three farmers begging for tax relief because “their farms had been impacted by the earthquake” or “their family was killed by vampires and had to be destroyed for the good of the kingdom.” The king nodded wearily, and Korrash noticed the concerned glance he shared with Markus, his Minister of the Exchequer (Perception 5 success).
At last, it was Korrash’s turn. As he stepped forward to stand before the King, the man stirred and looked interested for the first time.
“Ah, Adept Korrash, we are pleased that you bring tidings of your extermination of the blood-sucking plague that has besieged us.”
Oh. Apparently the king was already aware of him? He wondered why.
“I am honored to report success in this endeavor, Your Majesty.”
“Excellent. The Crown acknowledges your feat; may the One True God smile on your just reward.”
Korrash was opening his mouth to reply when the beautiful sound of a completed quest made him close it again.
You have completed Royal Edict #31415. You have eliminated the vampire menace wherever they lurked within the city. Though darkness is never safe for mortals to tread, the residents of Sunblade have one thing less to fear because of you. Of course, there’s no way to know if you got them all… Experience gained. 10,000 Gold awarded.
His eyes went wide at the long overdue payday. It was about time! Stupid cursed ring.
A breath later, Korrash got his second reward. The toe of his boot was lit by the dying sun as it streamed through the throne room’s stained glass windows. The presence of the light “showed his deeds to the One True God” (which part of him realized was just adding the experience to his obfuscated total), and he leveled up.
LEVEL UP! You have reached Level 11. A new attribute point is available. Please note that, after level 10, the provision of attributes, skill points, and Perks follows a new progression. You will now receive one new attribute point every first and third level, two new Skill points every second and fourth level,and one new Perk every fifth level. You will no longer receive Level Bonuses.
Well, that sucked. Comparatively, anyway. It still felt awesome. At least he had some new Resonance points to play around with. He considered where to put his new attribute point. Maybe…
The lights went out. Korrash felt the change as day gave way to night, and memories of his first night in this world assailed him. His friends, the bellicose Alton and the gentle Beah. His village, which had cast him out after the crowbold attack during his Tutorial ceremony. Arielle. She’d followed him through death, and then that Necromancer had…
With a growl unbefitting his elven countenance, he shoved those thoughts away. There’d be time for feelings later, and plans for setting those wrongs right again.
The Secretary of the Exchequer was shuffling toward him. He wondered idly why mage robes were so comfortable and easy to move around in, but ceremonial robes were floor-dragging monstrosities. Just one of the mysteries of life, he supposed.
“Korrash, come this way. The throne room is off limits at night,” Markus said, green eyes glittering with good humor. Korrash smiled; the man reminded him a little of his grandfather.
They exited the throne room together, and the advisor reached out a hand to halt their advance.
“My chambers are right down this hall,” he said, “so I hope you won’t mind if I give you the writ of payment here?”
“That would be phenomenal, sir,” Korrash replied, being fairly certain that his pupils had turned into tiny gold pieces. No, they’re dollar signs, his thoughts insisted.
The old man reached into one of his many pockets, producing a scroll of fine vellum tied with a beautiful satin ribbon. Somehow, it appeared to be dyed gold. Neat.
“Now,” said Markus, pulling the scroll back as Korrash reached for it, “this is an official document, sealed with an Aetheric impression by my own hand. I would suggest taking it to the Bank rather than attempting to claim it yourself. Most people don’t think about the logistics of that much coin in one place before it’s too late.”
The elf nodded absently, as that was what Bags of Holding were for.
“Furthermore, the authority contained in this document is meant to withstand fraud and theft. It’s old magic, and poorly understood. The gist of it is that it cannot be stolen from you, only willingly given. The downside of such magic is that the scroll represents your reward in its entirety. If it’s destroyed, I cannot make you another one.”
Korrash went from seeing green to turning green in a single heartbeat. He stared at the ring on his hand. Surely it couldn’t get in the way this time, right? The ring wasn’t supposed to be able to reduce quest rewards below twenty-five percent. Did that mean he was supposed to have gotten forty thousand gold, or that he’d end up with twenty-five hundred? Or maybe since the scroll was an item, the ring couldn’t detect it!
“I understand,” he said, reaching out tentatively for the scroll.
“Don’t worry,” said Markus. “The enchantment makes the scroll resistant to fire, acid, moisture, moths, and slashing, piercing, and bludgeoning effects below the Mythic tier. You should be fine.”
Korrash pushed the nagging feeling in the back of his mind away (Insight 2 succeeded, but became a failure due to other factors) and grasped the scroll with his slim fingers.
Something was wrong. He was in pain. Not just a little pain, either. This was All. The. Pain. It felt like his soul was mounting a daring escape through his sinuses.
His guts began spooling out through his navel. Metaphorically, he hoped. He would have cried out from the agony of it, but he didn’t have lungs. Nothing was moving, except…
The pain wasn’t dulling his perceptions, unfortunately. Nothing was moving, but he was seeing things move. His sight had split in half, and he was seeing the walls on either side of him. Was it his eyes that were moving? He was being peeled open like a meat banana!
The scenery continued to wiggle past, and in moments, his two eyes were staring at each other across the back of his head. Each had half of his nose, mouth, and teeth beneath it, like it should. If the eyes were the window to the soul, Korrash was looking into his own. Then he found himself contemplating the back of his own head as the twisting sensation continued. Elves sure have nice hair, his pain-wracked brain thought.
He felt something crack just before everything went dark, and he felt his arm jerk slightly upward as a roaring sound came from somewhere far away. A cold and terrible wind swept over his exposed vitals.
WHY WOULDN’T HE PASS OUT?!
Chapter Twelve
A featureless void of terror
The cold wind abated, and he felt himself unroll. Whatever had cracked before sank back into place with a squelch. He saw his fractured face once more. His flesh rolled back together like wrapping paper, and something was stuffing his entrails back into his body. Through his navel, again. The soul-tearing pain left him a moment later, and a wave of vertigo hit him as his eyes tried to process his surroundings.
The familiar green marble filled with living vines and the soft, sourceless light told him everything he needed to know.
He clenched his fists in anger. How dare she?! He was busy, and she could have at least asked permission! He took a step, ready to find the source of his misery and give her a piece of his mind, when a strange sound broke through his anger.
Something was softly crackling, and the room was just a bit warmer than it had been moments ago (Perception 5 success). He looked down as realization struck him.
There, in his hand, was the writ of payment, or what was left of it. It had been neatly sliced in two, millimeters from where his hand grasped it. The ends were crisping and turning to ash. He forced his hand open, and the wonderful, beautiful embodiment of his monetary dreams erupted into bright white flames and then was gone.
Korrash sank to his knees.
“Nooooooooo!”
Chapter Thirteen
The Empress’s Spire, Caer Realta, the Reborn Empire of Fé Rìach
With every step, Korrash reminded himself that she was basically a goddess. She could zap him with lightning or turn him into a devil dog or feed him to a sloar. Anything, really.
He stopped before the entrance to the Great Observatory, where Amnach waited for him. He could feel her. It was kind of gross, really. He took a trio of Deep Calming Breaths™ and reached for the massive doors. They opened at his touch, which he was thankful for. He could handle most doors, but these looked really big, and he didn’t want to find someone to ask him to help get them open. That would be embarrassing.
She was waiting for him, wearing a robe woven from starlight. Here, at the top of the Empress’s Spire, sat the Great Observatory of Al-hazred, an artifact thought to be lost to the ages. As the stars spun above, their silver lights shining against the darkness of Nightfall, the Observatory gathered the light and magnified it into a spinning panoply of the heavens. Here was a binary star, and there was a violet nebula. Korrash quickly averted his gaze from the latter as some dark thing shifted within (Counseling 1 success). The void wouldn’t be staring back at him today, thank you very much.
Amnach placed aside the spool of starlight she had been twisting into thread as she turned to greet him.
“Well met, my Knight,” she said, her voice pushing aside the remnants of his anger. His attitude when faced with the king of a human nation had been one of dispassion. Here was a being truly worthy of devotion (Conviction 2 failure).
“Your knight greets you, my Empress,” he heard himself say as he fell to his knees. He was staring into her eyes. Weren’t you supposed to not do that? No matter how he tried, he couldn’t force himself to look away.
“I have brought you here to seek your council and charge you with the execution of your next task.” She motioned for him to rise, and the rings on her fingers reflected the starlight in a rainbow of glory. He could only do as she commanded.
“It seems the humans call this land ‘Eastmere,’ and claim dominion over it, from the Sea of Loss, far to the north of their capital, to the Valley of the Fallen, south of these ‘Howling Grasslands,’ which have replaced my beautiful mountain citadel.”
“This is true, my Empress,” he said, not really sure where she was going with it. His eyes were watering from staring at her, and he blinked. The shock of having volition again rocked him, and as he opened his eyes, he was careful not to directly meet her gaze.
She tsked at him and continued. “They sully the nearby roads with their filthy trade,” she sneered. “What goods of consequence could some paltry human kingdom possibly produce? I am considering sending a squad of Spellbreakers up to their little castle to put them in their place. What say you? You could even lead them into battle.”
This was bad. He needed to diffuse the situation. How was he supposed to convince the ancient Fae Noble who created elves that the world needed more than just elves in it? He thought fast, deciding that where persuasion had failed, bribery might prevail.
“O wise ruler, I understand your distress. The city of Sunblade has stood for three hundred years and has repelled all invaders that have attempted to breach its walls. They are made from a strange blend of iron-rich stone that interferes with the flow of aetherium through spellforms. (Lore 6 critical success).”
She was drawing a breath to respond, and he knew that if she started talking, he would never convince her.
“Now, it is foolish to think that such a thing would be able to stop you, my Empress, but the effectiveness of the walls against lesser magics have been proven time and again. In order to assure victory, you would have to appear on the battlefield yourself. Is that truly worth the effort? No; I propose a different path, one that will both improve your posture here and allow you to gain more information about the workings of modern humans.”
She stared at him for a moment, and not in a bad way. “Continue, my knight. What is this plan of yours?”
Now came the tricky part. “Forge a relationship with them. Appoint an ambassador, and see what comes of it. You can use these diplomatic channels to evaluate the best way to bring them into the Empire’s embrace.” He didn’t like the way he’d said that last part. He sounded like the most dangerous of animals: a true patriot.
She wrinkled her beautiful nose at him. “I don’t like it. Humans smell, and their clothing chafes. Their metalwork is shoddy, even if they do produce good steel rather quickly. What would we even trade with them? We make our own foodstuffs and will not share them, nor would we sully the lines of our steeds or hounds.”
Korrash smiled. ”The humans are afraid of us,” he said. “Our reputation as a warlike race of conquerors has survived the ages, though none living have known of our people, save through the most ancient of stories. This perception can best serve us if we disprove it.”
Her nose wrinkled even more. “I will not be seen as weak. Our people deserve to rule.”
“Of course we do,” he said through a mental sigh. The power of a god, the beauty of Helen of Troy, and the morals of Hitler. He just couldn’t catch a break. “But if we come to them offering our guidance, to teach them to better themselves through our superior wisdom, craftsmanship, and even basic magical instruction…”
“I will not give our secrets to the unworthy!” She seemed to grow a meter taller as she shouted, and the rings on her fingers glowed like tiny, frozen flames.
Korrash fell back a step and raised his hands in a calming gesture (Conviction 2 failed, but became a success due to other factors). “No, my Empress. I would never suggest that you share the High Magic with anyone outside our great nation,” he stammered. “It is a different type of knowledge, one that we take for granted, that the humans would fall on their faces to have.”
She calmed, and the godlike presence faded. He’d dodged an arrow just now—he’d have to be more careful.
“Perhaps a demonstration?” When she nodded, he continued. “Take a simple magical effect such as this.”
He raised his arms and pulled the sleeves of his robes back, then gestured to an open section of floor where guests could stand and observe the stars. As he focused his Intent, a glowing, purple circle began to form. The form grew until it was two meters in diameter, and he began to speak.
"Rideos. Vitalis. Sholashz. Complu. Ro. Ha. Nif. Ka’a." With each syllable, he felt his mana drain from him, and each word became more difficult to force past his tongue and into the world. This, however, was magic, and Korrash understood magic (Primordial Magic 10 succeeded, but became a critical success due to Tier differences).
With each word, runes erupted around the perimeter of the circle. As the last syllable of his spell fell into silence, darkness appeared. It was formless and vast, an eternity contained within the small area of the summoning circle. As the void coalesced, it took on a roughly humanoid shape. Korrash could tell it was looking at him. Then, it bowed.
Amnach clapped at him, slowly and sarcastically. “Excellent job, my Knight. You have summoned an obedient shadow. The spell’s power is… adequate. Any of my Magi could do the same; I fail to see what relevance this has to our discussion.”
The spell had used four hundred of his mana, and even the addition of one more modifier would have pushed the spell beyond his ability to fuel it. Since mana was twice as efficient compared to the aetherium most casters commanded, even a Master-level Primordial Mage would need to be around level fifteen to cast such a spell.
Before he responded, he glanced at the shadow. It wasn’t good for much in combat. This was a literal construct of shadow, not an undead monstrosity. No energy drain, no strength-sapping touch, none of that. But it made an excellent scout.
“Go to the City of Sunblade and find a shop called ‘Adam and Leaves.’ Take a helix fig and a Lemon of Joy, and return here with them.” The shadow bowed once more and disappeared, moving at the speed of darkness.
“I agree with your assessment, my Empress, but this proves my point. The spell I just cast, the one that you indicated would be simple for any elven mage, demonstrates a command of Mortal-Tier magic that is simply beyond all but the strongest human magic users.” She smiled at him, the grin more like a predator in the wild than a ruler of nations.
