Campaign (Blades VR Book 2) Page 2
“We have a rogue, ranger, Death Stryker, and crafter.”
“Two crafters,” Shale said.
Sebastian shook his head. “Maybe someday, but at the moment I am unable to craft.”
The girl’s eyebrows rose. “What?”
He nodded. “I took a couple bad hits to the head. After my recovery I discovered that the trauma caused me to lose my abilities.”
Shale’s expression softened. “That’s a shame. A guy your age must have had some decent power.”
Ezref snickered, and Sebastian shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. Let’s stay focused, here.”
“Sorry.” Shale looked at the arrow in her hand.
“You’re determined to make a go with this group, Sebastian?” Mercy asked.
“We’re all here. May as well see how we fare.”
“Then try without a tank. If things go bad, I can always step in to save you.”
“Like a true heroine.” Shale batted her eyelids.
Sebastian laughed and stood. “Okay, Shale. Go pull us a mobile monster.”
Shale stood. “Okie dokie. One mob coming right up.”
***
Orange light from the setting sun bathed the group as they rested on the grass. Shale wrapped a length of white cloth around a large gash on Aleron’s forearm. Ezref took stock of his remaining spell components. Xander sat on the grass looking at the ground, his sheathed swords on the ground beside him.
Sebastian considered the small pile of bones nearby. Monster remains created entirely by Mercy, who had been forced to step in each time they engaged a mob to prevent them from taking too much damage. “Well, that went horribly.”
Mercy shrugged. “No one died.”
“It looks as if you were right about needing a tank, lady Death Stryker.”
Mercy scowled. “Don’t call me lady. That honorific belongs to my goddess, not her followers.”
“Sorry.”
“You are forgiven.”
“The group definitely needs a tank. Warrior, paladin, or some plate-wearing class.”
“And a healer.”
“Yes.”
Mercy nodded towards the elves. “Get rid of the rogue, too. The class brings no use to a fledgling group like this.”
Aleron frowned.
“Hey, that’s not fair,” Shale said. “How do you expect him to increase his skill without being in the group?”
“The same way most rogues do. By skulking around towns and well-travelled roads, stealing from unsuspecting passersby. Levelling-up as a beginner rogue is a solo activity.”
“That sounds dangerous.”
Mercy sniffed. “I promise you it is kinder than what young Death Strykers experience.”
Xander looked up but said nothing.
“If you wish to stay with the group,” Mercy continued, “You should re-spec.”
Aleron blinked. “Did you just say re-spec?”
Mercy nodded. “Become another class.”
“I know what you meant. I didn’t expect you to use the term, is all.”
Sebastian laughed. “You make re-speccing sound easy.”
“It is.”
“Not from my understanding.”
“Not for the average person.” Her chin tilted toward Aleron. “But it is a simple matter for one of his kind.”
Sebastian looked at Aleron. The elf appeared uncomfortable. “What does she mean?”
He shook his head.
Mercy reached into her pack and withdrew a piece of beef jerky. “Visit your master and explain the situation. He will certainly switch you from rogue to healer. That will give you a chance of being useful to the group.”
“His master?” Sebastian frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“The boy is a fledgling Scout. He can be any class that he wants.”
“A Scout?” Sebastian squinted at Aleron. “I thought you were a Traveller.”
“He is.” Shale nodded.
Sebastian’s brows furrowed. “A Traveller who is a Scout? That’s impossible.”
“Rare, but not impossible.” Shale laughed and clapped her friend on the back. “I think he’s the only one, but Aleron is definitely a Scout.”
3
The group sat around the campfire, Shale on one side, her face animated, her hands waving about as she spoke to Sebastian and Ezref. On the opposite side of the flames, Mercy leaned against a tree, with eyes closed and arms crossed. At the edge of the light but far enough away to give him space to move, Xander practised with his swords, swinging the blades in various combinations as he turned, planted, and struck at imaginary foes.
Aleron sat near Mercy and watched the young Death Stryker go through his drills. Xander stopped suddenly and shook his head.
“Again.” Mercy’s eyes did not open.
“It’s a tricky combination.”
“Until it isn’t. Again.”
Xander sighed and used his forearm to rub at his icy blue eye socket before resuming.
“Does it hurt?” Aleron’s eyes flitted to Mercy and then back to Xander. “His eye?”
“Ask him.”
“I did.”
“And?”
“He said it was fine.”
“There’s your answer, then.”
“I’m pretty sure that he was lying.”
“What do you want from me, elf?”
“To get to know you a little.”
She snorted.
“It’s only fitting, I think, since we are teammates.”
“My charge might be your teammate, if you manage to pick a class that this group can use and remain with them. You are a Traveller, like the others?”
“That’s right.” Aleron reached for his water flask. “Shale, Xander, Sebastian, and me. Travellers.”
“You are an odd bunch.”
“I suppose.” He smiled.
“Definitely not like other Travellers.”
“How many have you met?”
“Only two.”
“Maybe you need to meet more before you can form a proper opinion.”
“Travellers are always the same, at least in one respect.”
“What’s that?”
Mercy opened her eyes. “All of them are Scouts.”
Aleron laughed and looked across the fire. The others stopped talking and looked toward him. “Mercy says that all Travellers are Scouts.”
Sebastian raised his eyebrows and Shale shook her head. “That’s ridiculous.”
Mercy shrugged.
Shale opened her mouth to say more, but Sebastian rested a hand on her arm. “You are speaking of the old group?”
“That’s right.”
“We are new to this land.”
“Yes.”
“I don’t think we are the same.”
Mercy considered the idea and nodded. “That could be the case.”
“How many Travellers arrived almost two hundred years ago?”
“No one knows for certain. How many arrived recently?”
“Around five thousand.”
Mercy’s eyes widened. “What? Are you serious?”
He nodded.
“How can you be so sure?”
“The number is well-known among us.”
“Interesting.” Mercy frowned. “I don’t think the original group was that large.”
“Half as big?” Sebastian offered. “A quarter?”
“I could only guess.”
Sebastian smiled, his eyes drifting to the special emblem attached to her shoulder armour, resting on the ground. “Come now. You are privy to the sacred knowledge of your order.”
The hint of a smile touched her lips. “You recognize that, do you?”
He nodded.
“Recognize what?” Shale frowned.
“Mercy is a Shard.”
“Whoah.” Aleron’s eyes widened and he looked at the armour. The image of an oblong black gemstone nestled among the ebony and silver filigree on the right side of
the Death Stryker’s shoulder plate. “I knew that you were high level, but...” he paused and looked toward Xander, who had finished his drills and was returning to join the group. “Why would someone of your rank sponsor and travel with a new Stryker?”
Mercy smiled and tapped her eye.
“Xander’s missing eye?”
“Not the wound.” She turned to look at Xander as he sat beside her. “What it represents.”
“Which is?”
“Death has kissed me,” Xander said.
“That’s interesting.” Sebastian considered Xander’s words for a moment and then looked at Mercy. “We can return to that later, but don’t switch subjects yet. As a Shard, you know secrets guarded by your order.”
“Some secrets. None that I would share with outsiders.”
“I see.” Sebastian pursed his lips.
Mercy laughed and waved a hand. “In this case I can tell you that no one has special knowledge of the Travellers. We know only what they have told us themselves, which is little. They arrived 197 years ago and the races of this land accepted them. I do not know how many arrived, or how many remain. My guess is that most of them still live and roam the land.”
The beta players frowned, while the natives of Preu Treya nodded their heads.
Aleron was sure his expression matched that of the others. Confused. “And you’re certain that all of the old Travellers are Scouts?” He asked.
Mercy smiled and nodded. “Absolutely.”
4
The group continued to sit on the dirt path as the gate to the Scout outpost opened. Aleron and Kieran came through the opening and walked toward them. Aleron’s smile was visible from the moment he appeared and did not diminish as the two reached his friends.
Sebastian eyed the young elf’s clothing. “Your leather armour is gone, lad.”
“That was rogue gear,” Kieran said. “He’s a healer now, like you asked for.”
Shale stood and approached her friend. She examined his brown robes and raised an eyebrow. Aleron nodded, and she laughed.
“What’s so funny?” Xander asked.
“From the start, I wanted to be a druid.” Aleron’s grin widened. “And that’s what I finally get to be.”
“Makes sense,” Sebastian said. “Druids can heal.”
“And cast other spells that can aid the party, too.” Kieran said.
Mercy closed her eyes and shook her head. Kieran noticed. “What’s the matter? You wanted a healer.”
“A priest would have been better.”
“Aleron is an elf. The priest class is not available to his race.”
“Then change his race.”
Kieran frowned “That’s not possible.”
Mercy scowled. “I know that Travellers can change their race in order to blend in better.”
Kieran laughed. “Aleron is a new arrival. He is not able to do everything that the rest of us can.”
“How can you be so certain of that?”
“If you doubt my word, ask Sebastian.”
“Me?” Sebastian’s eyebrows furrowed. “How would I know?”
Kieran stared at Sebastian for a long moment before turning back to Mercy. “There are two distinctly different groups of Travellers in this world now. In order to differentiate between the two, we have decided to call you and yours, new Travellers.”
“And the Travellers who have been here for so long?”
“We will call ourselves originals.” Kieran winked. “Or old Travellers.”
Sebastian frowned. “I expect the terms will quickly catch on. Or are already catching on as Scouts spread the news.”
Kieran slowly bowed his head. “That is likely the case.”
“How many of you are there, anyway? Original Travellers?”
Kieran shrugged. “I’m not certain of our exact number.”
Sebastian grunted.
“Nowhere near the number of arrivals, I can assure you of that.”
Sebastian groaned and looked at Aleron. “You told him, Aleron?”
“No.”
“He didn’t have to tell me. We know.”
“New Travellers are not all Scouts, like the original group,” Mercy said.
“That’s correct,” Kieran smiled. “Aleron is the only arrival to be a Scout.”
“Some are born to the class, correct?” Mercy asked.
“Yes, which is partly why it is difficult for me to guess exact numbers.”
“So if I meet a Scout,” Sebastian rubbed at his temple. “They might be an original Traveller, or someone born with the ability.” He tilted his chin toward their new druid. “Or Aleron?”
“That’s exactly right.” Kieran said. “I wouldn’t worry about it too much, though.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t imagine you will run into many Scouts during your adventures. We are not a class that typically seeks excitement.”
***
Kieran entered the room and sat. There were four other Scouts at the table.
One of them, a woman, spoke. “You spent some time speaking with Sebastian?”
Kieran nodded.
“And? Is it him?”
“I think so.”
“We need to know for certain.”
“Time will tell.”
“If it is him,” one of the men laughed, “It’s quite the stroke of luck. With five thousand newbies running around the entire land, I thought it would prove more challenging to locate him.”
“If it is him,” Kieran said, “then we did get lucky.”
“I hope it is. We could use some luck, couldn’t we, brother?”
Kieran raised one eyebrow and nodded.
5
“Morning.”
Sebastian looked up from his plate. A human man with shoulder-length, straight, blond hair like spun gold smiled down at him. His bared arms rippled with large muscles that complemented his impressive size. He wore a silver vest of chainmail that was polished and clean. It was impossible to look at this man and not be impressed. Sebastian nodded and returned the man’s smile. “Hi there. Are you Fen?”
The warrior’s eyes sparkled as he nodded. Sebastian motioned toward the empty chair across from him, and the man sat. His eyes squinted as he looked around the room before meeting Sebastian’s eyes once more. “So you’re Sebastian, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“We happen to know each other?”
“What’s Fen short for?”
“Fenix.” The man grinned.
“Can’t be many with that name.”
“Nope. Same with your name, I would imagine.”
Sebastian shrugged. Then the two laughed and reached across the table to shake hands. “I’m happy to run into you here, old friend.”
The warrior chuckled and turned to greet the waitress as she approached. He flirted with her, grinning as she blushed and left to get the drink he asked for.
“She didn’t ask me what I wanted,” Sebastian said.
Fen laughed. “Maybe she thought you were still nursing your current drink.”
Sebastian cleared his throat and wiped the bare table in front of him.
The girl returned and positioned her body so that she squarely faced Fen as she set his drink on the table. He reached out and gently took her hand, slipping a piece of silver into it and thanking her for the special attention. She giggled and batted her eyelashes, obviously in no hurry to leave. A customer called out and got her attention, breaking the spell. She frowned and turned away, yelling an obscenity as she went about her work and left the two of them alone.
“Must be nice to be popular with the ladies.”
Fen took a sip from the mug, the smile returning as he swallowed. “I’d tell you that it gets a bit tiring, but we both know that ain’t true.”
Sebastian laughed. “I can’t believe my good fortune. What a treat to cross paths with you, Mr. Granger.”
The warrior laughed. “I think that might be the first time you’ve
ever called me that, Seb. Or should I address you as Mr. Darndhal?”
“Seb works.”
He raised his mug once more. “Anyone in your group know who you really are?”
Sebastian grinned. “No, and I’d like to keep it that way for as long as possible.”
“Not a problem.”
“So.” Sebastian spread his hands. “Tell me what you think of this little venture so far?”
Fen’s smile faded. “I am dumbstruck.”
“As if.”
“No, really.” Fen’s eyes widened. “You know that I am one of your biggest supporters.”
“And biggest doubters.”
“Of course, but that makes sense, right? I wanted it to be so incredible that I was afraid it never could be. I wanted the moon and was willing to close my eyes and hold out my hand for you to place it in my palm. But the part of me that wanted it so badly was also afraid I would open my eyes and see a crude, misshapen pebble resting there instead.”
“And?”
Fen ran one hand through his hair. “You delivered more than the moon. I’ve opened my eyes to find the sun and all the planets included in the deal as well. FIVR is no longer a concept. It is reality.”
Sebastian grinned. “I’m glad that you’re pleased.”
“There’s an understatement!” He leaned forward, the excitement in his expression and body language obvious. “This world is a marvel. It is real in every way that I’ve been able to see, and I’ve looked.”
“I bet you have.”
“I spent the first week just walking around. Travelling the roads, climbing trees and hills. Breathing the air, touching the grass, digging in the dirt, swimming in the water.”
Sebastian laughed.
“This is it! Fully Immersed Virtual Reality, man. FIVR!”
“It is.”
“Not some headpiece with a monitor. All the senses are engaged with experiencing your digital creation.”
“That was the goal.”
“Yes, but—” Fen laughed again. “I don’t think you get the enormity of what you’ve accomplished, Seb.”
“I think I do.”
“You’re a god.”
Sebastian shook his head.
“No, I’m serious. You are. You’ve created an entire world, with touch, smell, taste.” He spread his hands wide and looked up at the ceiling. “You’ve given this place all the physical properties of our own world, plus it contains creatures from storybooks that are real in every way possible. They are born, they play, hunt, kill, bleed, and die. You’ve created races of fantastic people with rich and long histories, and all of that matches the lore of Blades of Verchinor down to the smallest detail. And these beings interact with each other.” Fen placed his palms together and bowed at the waist. “I am humbled by your genius.”