Chapter 7

  You Know, Bloodthirsty, Kills Kobolds And Sprites For Fun?

  Blinking his eyes away from the blue flame, he looked to the edges of where its light touched the stone. Bare rock with shallow pools filling scattered depressions in the surface. Not much to find. Moving to the left and right was more of the same, a short walk to walls on either side of the tumultuous falls.

  “No way around the water, got it,” he said. Following the curve of the wall on his left hand side, he explored further.

  The walls, like the floor, were wet from the mist in the air, like a shell of moisture had been formed over everything within the cavern. As he moved along the wall, claws scraping soundless amidst the echoing of the water. The pervasive sound morphed as he continued along the curving wall.

  He saw it then, a large round tunnel. Twice the height of a human or elf, its jagged surface had been carved into the rear of the natural cavern. He was not the first person to find his way here, but at least one other had made their entrance from the opposite side.

  He followed the tunnel, its twisting and curving paths winding their way from the deafening sounds at its start. Something beneath his foot slid, scraping against the stone below it. It was large, hard, and a shade of blue that was almost a perfect match to his candlelight. It looked oddly like one of his scales, only this was almost as large as his foot.

  Nik’s heart nearly stopped as his steps froze in place. He needed to get out of here, fast. He quickened his pace, moving once again as fast as his wounded abdomen would allow. Slowing back down as he entered an open space, its walls carved in the same manner as the tunnel. The tunnel was empty in every sense of the word, save for at its center. Nik retreated, slamming his back to the wall, and looked back into the chamber ahead, where, resting on the stone floor sat three blue-flecked eggs the size of Nik.

  “How do I keep managing to find myself going from one terrible spot to another just as bad,” Nik wondered silently. With as much caution and care as he could, he took his time hugging the outside wall of this ovular shaped room. Reaching the other side, he glanced back at the unmoving eggs, the blue flecks glimmering with his reflected candlelight, and moved himself into the continuation of the tunnel. Nik wasn’t certain what had left the eggs there, and he would have liked to avoid finding out if at all possible.

  He dropped his candlelight as a soft red light filtered into the tunnel ahead, and warm air tinged with smoke accompanied it. Exiting the tunnel Nik saw the devastation the wildfire had left in its wake. Everything that wasn’t black, was emanating a red glowing heat. The trees were barren, nothing more than charred remains of now leafless pillars rising through the smoke filled air.

  The trees ahead of the tunnel had been broken and knocked aside as though a giant beast had been in too much of a rush to go around them, which might not be far from the truth. Nik went the opposite direction attempting to find his way back to the river and to his friend.

  The underground path had very much been a jumble of turns, but he figured eventually he would be able to hear the water again. He would rejoin Pearl and they would continue their search together. He almost slid back down to the mouth of the tunnel when a bit of rock came loose from the dirt that encompassed its entrance, but he managed to climb to the top of the small hill for a better view of his surroundings.

  Colors were advancing in their parade to announce the rising sun, but there was no birdsong to accompany its arrival. It was like the entire forest had been wiped away and replaced with a different landscape. In the distance there was a great line snaking across it, and he knew that it must be the river.

  He also knew that it was going to be a long walk to get to it.

  Nik had made only a small amount of space between himself and the crest of the hill that sat atop the passageway below, when a crack like thunder sounded behind him. Instinctively, he moved for cover, dashing behind a now black wooden column. He peered around to see what had been the source. His head snapped back into place, his whole body a statue behind his hiding place. He begged the universe for it to not have seen him, and that the smoke would cover his scent. If he didn’t make a single hint of noise then it shouldn’t sense him at all.

  Nik felt it, primal and instinctive, this creature was not at the top of the food chain, it was the peak. The source of the blue scale he had found, and mother to the clutch of eggs; she was fire and destruction. She was death to anything she wished, as was any of her kind. He waited for her to return to her cave before he dared to proceed any further.

  He waited 40 drawn out heartbeats of eternity for the sound of its footsteps to grow more faint into the tunnel. He knew now what had happened to the forest. In their attempt to recover from their fight with the chimpanther, they had found themselves in the path of dragon-fire. He and Pearl would make no decent meal for the powerful winged beast, but he did not want to find them in its path. No, they needed to find the outside of its territory, and get themselves to it. First he needed to find her though.

  While it took some time, he hiked his way back to the cliffside that ran along the river, and he climbed down the embankment that abuts the falls. Risking being heard by something nearby he called out to her in the area he thought she might have last seen him.

  “Pearl, where are you!” called Nik.

  “Pearl!” he continued.

  Shouting as he followed the river down stream from the falls, he hoped that the quieting sound of rushing water as he left its vicinity might allow her to hear him. The more he shouted the more desperate his calls became. What if she was hurt and she couldn’t fly, or wounded and unconscious.

  She may be unable to hear him, or otherwise unable to answer his calls. His voice had grown hoarse from the inhalation of smoke and shouting calls to his friend and mentor.

  “Pearl!” he called in a rasping cry, as hope dwindled with his declining ability to call out to her.

  Nik could feel the fear gripping his heart. His lungs were tight in his chest from the twisted vine’s stranglehold, breaths becoming quick and shallow as it sank its phantom thorns into his soul. He tried to fight the voice in his head that told him he would not find her. The same voice told him that he was alone and weak, and that voice wasn’t wrong.

  That was how he would die, because he didn’t have the strength to change it. His hands were shaking and his heart was beating as rapidly as a faeryfolk’s wings.

  “The leaves, think of the leaves,” Nik told himself. His voice was a half-whisper of paper and broken glass, but he repeated his words to himself like a mantra.

  “Think of the leaves. Think of the leaves.”

  He was not succeeding to focus. As much as he told himself what to do, he just couldn’t seem to make the image stick in his mind. Whenever he was close, the voice in his head would blur the lines, and overtake his attempts to recover himself. His head was floating over his body as began to swim through thickened air.

  Struggling to move, and fighting against his own aching tired legs, he fell forward. Catching himself on his hands and knees, he rolled himself away from the edge of the water. His body wasn’t getting enough oxygen to support his already worn muscles. On his back, trying to breath through shuttering lungs and ash-filled air, Nik’s lids drifted closed over his eyes.

  * * *

  His mind was a fog, he was moving, and there was a tight grip on his arms. His eyes, half opened, could see the blurred color of trees that still had their leaves between the poles of charcoal that had once had colors of their own. Arms that weren’t his own held onto ropes that wrapped around him. His feet bounced and dragged.

  His vision faded to black and his dreams took over. Red-flamed and furious were the creatures that chased. He tried to hide, but they would find him, always. They vanished as his conscious mind bled into his visions, and there was a voice. It was calling his name in a hushed pleading tone.

  “Nik, wake up. Nik, are you alright? Nik!” said the familiar voice of his friend. “Pearl?” he asked.

  He could hear the sigh of relief, as his eyes cracked open to the light of a nearby campfire. There were bars of wood between himself and the light. He was in a cage. Waking fully with the sudden spike of awareness. Pearl was in a tiny prison, hands, feet, and wings bound. He felt his stomach drop at the sight of her wings.

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  It felt wrong to see a faeryfolk’s wings bound. The relief of finding her again was overshadowed by a dark anger. He needed to get the two of them out of these cages. He looked to his left and right to see more cages.

  They were not alone. There were a few small animals in cages about the size of Pearl’s, another the size of Nik’s, and two that were large enough for the chimpanther they had faced, these too were occupied.

  One of the two larger cages held a large brown-fur covered quadroped, but the other held something unexpected. Curled into the corner with its arms wrapped around tucked knees, playing prisoner alongside them, was a female elf. To say that Nik was a little confused would be overstating his understanding of the situation.

  “Why would an adventurer be in a cage?” he asked himself quietly.

  Pearl’s voice came back, “I don’t know, but they’ve been treating it with the same kind of care they’ve treated us with.”

  He tried with limited success to figure out what was going on. He asked, “And why are we in cages?”

  She replied with a bit of venom in her tone, “It’s the same group that tried to trap me before, but I don’t know what they want. It could be for slavery, some sort of decoration, revenge for us getting away the last time now, or who knows what.”

  While they were discussing their current circumstance, Nik noticed something else unusual. The elf was whispering under their voice to the furry creature in the other large cage. It was comforting the intimidatingly clawed thing.

  They were friends with the beast it seemed. Adventurers were so unusual. They would kill him or another monster like it was nothing at all, and yet, here one of them was imprisoned and comforting a beast. He listened to their tone and the garbled nonsensical combinations of vowels and consonants.

  It was odd. Not the situation they were in, or the behavior of the adventurer. Although those were both odd as well, what Nik felt was unusual in the extreme was the adventurer’s speech. It was strange and foreign, but it was like a long buried memory trying to bring itself back into your recollections. Familiarity seeping in through the unknown. Nik shouted out in surprise, a stupid, frustratingly loud and obnoxious bell having jarred him from his thoughts.

  Skill gained: Linguistics Level 1!

  Congratulations, you have the ability to awkwardly converse

  with likely unwilling participants who probably can’t understand your accent.

  Nik was baffled by the text box that appeared in his face,

  “What is linguistics?” he asked himself. Waving the text away, he saw that both Pearl and the adventurer were staring at him.

  “What happened, are you hurt?” Pearl asked.

  “No, sorry. Not any more than I was before at least. I got a new skill, and it startled me,” he replied.

  “Anything helpful to our current situation?” she questioned, just a hint of hope creeping into her eyes.

  “That depends on if talking to someone will help. Maybe, not even that? I don’t know exactly what it means. Have you ever heard of ‘Linguistics’?” he offered in response.

  “Glitterbombs and broken twigs!” she half shouted in frustration, “Not a clue.”

  A voice responded from another cage.

  “Linguistics?” asked the elf in her weird speech, but Nik understood it.

  They looked at each other, confusion plain on both faces. Pearl looked from one to the other of the two, in her own state of confusion.

  “Skill gained, Linguistics?” he said, half stating and half asking. The adventurer, stunned, replied to him with eyes blinking in surprise,

  “Skill gained, Linguistics.”

  “What is going on, Nik?” Pearl demanded eyes still darting between the two of them.

  “I think I know what the Linguistics skill is. We can understand each other.” he told his friend.

  The elf tilted her head to the side puzzled, and launched into a multi-sentence monologue. Nik understood the words, “the”, “but” “skill”, and the word “and”. The linguistics skill was limited at level one would seem.

  “Skill level one, I don’t think I’m at a high enough level in that skill to hold a conversation” Nik responded.

  The elf held a hand to their chest and said,“Skill level one.” Interrupting the albeit limited conversation, other voices came within range.

  * * *

  The elf looked into the little Kobold’s eyes and said,

  “My name is Beatrice, please help me save Doggy.”

  It looked at her with a level of understanding that should not be possible for a monster, but she had never heard of a linguistics skill before either. The skill must've been a part of the last game patch that had auto installed this morning. That was beside the point right now, though. She needed some help getting out of this situation and she didn't care where it came from. That might have to wait for another time of opportunity, the poaching and slaving jerks were back.

  “So you talkin’ to monsters now, too? I swear you druids always role play way too hard. It can't understand yuh,” said a raspy voice thick with southern twang accompanied by an arrogant smile.

  Great one of my dirtbag abductors is back, she thought. If I had my staff and some MP, I would freakin’ mess this guy up.

  “Hellooo, can you hear the words comin’ out of my mouth? Crazy Chick,” he said with his face leaned down in front of her cage.

  Beatrice spat in his face, nailing him right in the eye.

  “Release my companion, you piece of freakin’ garbage!” she screamed into his ear.

  Wiping her saliva off of his face, the tall man grimaced, and turned to walk away, shouting over his shoulder,

  “You’ve got some real bad manners, miss druid. I think we’ll keep that pet for ourselves.”

  Beatrice was beginning to lament the fact that so many abilities required the use of a weapon or staff to activate. Right now, about all she could do was convey emotions to animals and make some plants instantly grow. She felt so useless, she was even starting to hope that a monster was somehow a helpful NPC in disguise.

  She thought, I must be going crazy. The little kobold did seem to understand me though. Could monsters actually communicate in the game now, because that would have some dark implications, assuming they aren’t all just evil anyways. Still… A scent broke her from her thoughts. Smoke had drifted into her cage.

  * * *

  “What in the name of the Black Tower are you doing? Are you insane?” rasped Pearl from his shoulder. “That is an elf in case you did not notice. You know, bloodthirsty, kills kobolds and sprites for fun? Probably has little parties when it gains a level from it?! And since when do you have a flame ability?” she whisper-shouted at Nik.

  “I don’t know, Pearl, but she asked me for help. I can’t just leave someone in a cage, even an adventurer. Who knows what the others are going to do to it, and we’ll talk about the candlelight later” Nik replied.

  Crouched between the druid’s cage and the two now empty ones behind him, Nik put a finger tipped with blue flame to the bits of rope that held the bars of Beatrice’s cage in place. The burning pieces of rope fell to the ground one at a time, freeing individual bars of wood from their place. Nik held a finger up to his lip in a sign for the druid to remain silent as the three escaped, and moved onto the druid’s young pet that his system called a capybeara. Shouts of joking laughter carried over from the main camp of the adventurers, and Nik’s heart was practically vibrating as he worked to burn the final bits of rope that would free the beast.

  Each section felt like it took longer than the last. He felt his nerves wind up tighter, into a coil that threatened to snap. Beatrice knocked the last piece of wood to the ground as she reached in to drag Doggy out of its cage. The beast was still sleepy from sedation of some kind, but she would get him to safety on her own, somehow.

  Nik helped her as best he could to get her pet to its feet. It was wobbly, but standing on all four paws. The druid turned to him and said a quiet,

  “Thank you, kobold.”

  Nik gave her a simple nod as the adventurer made slow progress with her companion away from their current enemy-filled location. Nik and Pearl needed to get away from here, too. There wasn’t guaranteed enough time to free all of the caged animals. He had to bear that weight on his mind.

  He turned his back to them and made due north, away from the adventurers. Likely on towards something else just as dangerous, given the way the last couple of weeks had gone for him.

  They moved from tree to tree, doing as much as they could to stay out of any line of sight from the camp behind them. Pearl stuck to his shoulder to avoid making any sound with her wings, and he did his utmost to avoid any snappable twigs along the way.

  A shout rang out in the distance and Nik knew that it was time to run. They were far enough to be less cautious, and if he had learned anything from recent events, it was the importance of an aptly timed flight from danger.

  * * *

  The Black Tower never changes, they say. Rising up from the very center of the world , it saw everything. Each of its tiers was home to powerful creatures and players, but few of them ever learned even half of its secrets.

  The bricks that formed its structure were countless in number and harder than dragonscales. Each playing its part to contain the power of the whole. The tower was the symbol of H.E.R.O. and each player knew its majestic beauty. It’s overwhelming strength and power, influencing the world around it to bend to its glorious tyranny.

  At the root of the tower’s first tier, a small scouting band of orcs looked closely at the brickwork at its base. Mor had heard a small cracking sound and moved in to investigate its source. There amidst the black and gray, something new stood out to her. Bluish-green color had stretched out branching arms to replace the grayed veins in a rough diameter around one central brick.

  It was like it was spreading and beginning to fill the surrounding blocks with its own change. The Black Tower never changes, they say, but the orcs could see it, and the tower could feel it.

  A singular brick at its base was no longer black, but a deep forest green.