PA-01. Den Of Thieves, page 28
part #1 of Pantheon Online Series
The other sailor scrambled back to his feet, swinging his blade in the dark with maniacal attacks. Gunnar backed away, dodging a massive stroke that stuck in the floorboards. The man wrenched his scimitar free with a crack.
The whole ship shuddered violently, sending more barrels rolling, and the sailor fell back.
“Now!” shouted the woman behind him.
The slaves were still shackled, but they managed to move remarkably quick.
The ship groaned and swayed. But it had come to a stop, and Gunnar realized Sheira must have crashed it somewhere in the harbor.
[You have dealt +20 Damage to Sailor Level 10!]
Blood poured from the throat wound, and Scan told him the man’s Health would be finished in moments.
The slaves charged past Gunnar, tackling the other sailor to the ground. The goblin drove his dagger into the man’s huge chest.
The remaining bleeding sailor was now prostrate on the ground, and the kobold dug its ferocious teeth into the man’s throat, ending his life in a spray of blood.
[You have defeated Sailor Level 10 with an assist from Hank the Kobold! Here’s 10 XP!]
There was a mad scramble as the goblin looted the keys and began unlocking shackles. The ship was still swaying. Shouts echoed from above, but Gunnar guessed whatever had happened was keeping the remaining sailors plenty preoccupied.
Gunnar’s arm was still shooting with pain. He gripped the throwing blade, but that only sent more pangs coursing through him. He cried out.
“Let me help you with that,” said a woman behind him.
Gunnar turned. A dawn elf, with wavy blonde hair and piercing blue eyes, brushed his uninjured shoulder and smiled.
His breath caught and his head pounded.
He… recognized that face.
49
REWARD
Gunnar drifted between astonishment and utter confusion. Was this some sort of sick joke?
If not for the sharp, slender elven ears, she looked exactly like Alex Keynes, the young woman he had killed back in the real world.
Even her in-game name confirmed his fear.
Lex - Level 12
HP: 90/90
MP: 140/140
Race: Dawn Elf
Clan: Luminari
Disposition: Friendly
Relationship: Glad to not be in that cage
Description: Dawn elves are known more for scholarship and the celestial arts than combat. An alliance might help make up for the Wisdom you lack. Assuming you don’t royally screw this up.
His mind whirled. But the fact that her disposition was friendly suggested this must be some demented game developer messing with him.
But still it was unsettling as hell.
Gunnar’s eyes met hers for the first time, and for a moment, he wondered whether she recognized him too.
“Do I—”
The elf gripped his wrist, and he cried out, pain shooting up his arm from the dagger still buried in his biceps.
“Hold still,” Lex said, softly yet forcefully.
Even her voice sounded familiar, which made no sense. To the best of his memory, she had been dying when he reached her.
Or maybe he had suppressed the true memory.
At this point, he had no idea what to think. But for the time being, he seemed to be the only one freaking out.
Lex patted his shoulder gently. “Relax.”
Come on, get it together, he thought. They’re trying to throw you off your game.
He took a deep breath, and she withdrew the throwing blade from his arm in one swift motion. He groaned, but held back a scream.
“Thanks,” he said, clasping his fingers over the wound.
“You freed us. It’s the least I can do.”
Well, she’s definitely an ally at any rate.
He sure as hell wasn’t going to let some punk computer nerd ruin this quest.
“One of those whole-asses had a green juice,” said Hank the Kobold, scurrying over to them.
“Think you mean assholes,” Gunnar said.
The reptilian creature shrugged and held out a Potion of Minor Healing, and Gunnar quickly downed its contents. There was a momentary tension in his arm and one last sharp pang, and then the blood quit flowing and the pain dissipated for the most part. His Health shot back up to 80%.
The goblin had managed to free all the others from their shackles, and the slaves gathered around Gunnar, awaiting instructions.
There were ten total, all non-human creatures of one sort or another, including a merman, who was being carried by a large gray-skinned mountain orc.
“Anyone else hurt?” Gunnar asked, remembering he still had three healing potions himself.
The goblin and the mountain orc had both gotten pretty torn up in the scuffle, and they eagerly finished off Gunnar’s potions as well as two more of the kobold’s.
“Don’t have any more, do you?” he asked Hank. It would be nice to get back to full Health before they faced the rest of the crew.
But the kobold shook his head.
Ah, well…
Gunnar turned to the others. “We should get outta here. As soon as you get off the ship, split up, and get as far as you can from the harbor.”
“Where’re we supposed to go?” asked the mountain orc in a gruff voice.
“I know a place,” Gunnar said, pulling up his display and showing them the location of the crypt on his map of Thailen.
Lex smiled at him and patted his shoulder. “Thank you, Gunnar.”
He filled with warmth at her touch, but then tensed, wondering what the hell was going on.
But there was no time to inquire now. A strange greenish glow sifted between the slats from the deck above.
Sailors were shouting and scrambling around the ship above.
“Get off as fast as you can,” Gunnar commanded. “Don’t engage unless you have to.”
The creatures nodded and took off up the stairs with Gunnar taking up the rear. The middle deck was deserted and lit only by the violent flashing emerald light coming from above.
The main deck was madness. Sailors were desperately trying to salvage the foremast, which was hanging precariously off the side of the ship, the base engulfed in green flames.
The moment he saw it, Gunnar knew Sheira had saved her Arcane Bolt for the opportune moment. The chaos had been enough to distract the rest of the crew from anything going on belowdecks.
At the sight of the escaping prisoners, several sailors began shouting frantically. One let go of his rope, and the foremast nearly plunged into the sea at the shift in support.
A wiry sailor drew his sword, but the prisoners barreled over him and leapt off the side of the ship for freedom. Lapping flames cast wild shadows all over.
Gunnar was filled with pride and satisfaction as the slaves made their escape.
But it was cut off by a blazing pain in his spine.
He turned.
The cabin boy withdrew a dagger from Gunnar’s back, drenched in his blood. Gunnar drew his sword, but before he could attack, the boy’s blade plunged into his chest.
His Health dropped to 50%.
[The effect Mortal Bleeding has been triggered. You will suffer +2 Damage per second until healed or until you succumb to death. Ah, the rewards of being a merciful assassin.]
Rage filled him. He had spared the damn kid, and this was what he got?
His vision blurred from the pain, but Gunnar managed to parry the boy’s next attack, and with a sweep of his saber, the boy lost his dagger and his right hand with it.
[You have dealt +10 Damage to Cabin Boy Level 3!]
The kid cried out, and against all odds, he tried to attack again, reaching for a second dagger at his belt. Gunnar gritted his teeth and drove his saber into the boy’s skull. Finally, he went still and silent.
[You have defeated Cabin Boy Level 3. Look at you kicking ass and taking names. You’ve earned 0 XP!]
Gunnar changed his mind. One XP did not feel worse than zero.
The foremast groaned, and there was a sharp crack of wood as mast and sails teetered over the edge of the ship. The slaves had fled in all directions, and Gunnar was the last to escape the ship.
His vision spun. He raised his saber, thinking one of the sailors was closing in, but then, they vanished from his sight. Sorcerous flames began to shoot up the main mast in a jarring rush of light.
Something tugged on his cloak from behind.
He turned, slowly, and his blade clattered on the deck.
Sheira’s face flashed before him.
“Gunnar, turn off Dark Sight!”
He obeyed, and his vision cleared considerably. But his Health was down to 20% and dropping fast.
“P-pooassh…” He felt like he was speaking underwater, and he couldn’t remember the rest of the word.
Sailors rushed across the deck towards them, drawing their scimitars.
Sheira gripped his hand. “We’ve gotta go.”
Gunnar could barely keep his feet under him, and without Sheira’s hand at his back, he would have certainly toppled over. They staggered to the edge of the deck and leapt.
Cold water rushed around his head.
Sheira kept tugging at him, and behind them, Gunnar saw an explosion of flames. Shouts filled the night as they swam away into the engulfing darkness.
[Congratulations! You have completed the quest Break the Chains! You have successfully rescued—]
Gunnar’s Health bar flashed red across his vision.
[You have been killed by Cabin Boy Level 3! Wow! Just wow…]
Gunnar began to drift out and above his body. The image of Nymoria hovered over the water, but her voice was muffled and indistinguishable.
Sheira was still struggling to swim before she realized she was dragging a dead body. She pounded the waves and cursed.
And Gunnar thought it was a nice change from the last time he had died in Sheira’s arms.
Then, everything went black.
Flashing lights and the soft beep of technology drifted into his consciousness.
At first, he thought he was in a hospital. A blur crossed his vision and stayed there, slowly coming into focus.
Shad’s grinning face loomed before him.
Jake grimaced.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Shad asked, laughing.
“Whaaa?” His mouth couldn’t quite finish the words. The console whirred as the robotic arms shifted and tubes retracted from Jake’s body, and the momentary numbness faded away. He braced himself for the pain about to come.
“You look like a damn monkey wincing like that.”
“Y-you’re not gonna shock me?” Jake asked.
“Nah, kid, I ain’t gonna shock you. You did good. Now, come on, time to get up.”
“Time to work, you mean?”
Shad just would not stop grinning. “Hey, there’s more to this place than tasers and shit shoveling. Why you so paranoid?”
Jake groaned as he sat up. “Must be from general experience.”
“Maybe it’s time for another type of experience.”
“What are you talking about?” Jake’s head was pounding and his whole body felt heavy. Almost like he’d just died.
“You did good, son. It’s time to reap some rewards.”
“From who?”
Shad leaned in close. “Whom. And that would ruin the surprise now, wouldn’t it?”
Jake wasn’t sure what to think. He was here in this place because of a horrendous crime. Moments before, he had seen someone in-game who looked just like the girl he had killed IRL.
He had so many questions, but he was pretty sure he wouldn’t get any straight answers from Shad. He’d have to figure things out on his own. So, he kept quiet and followed Shad out of the room.
They didn’t return to the main part of the prison, but followed the hallway to the other end. They stopped in front of a steel door for a few moments while a light scanned over their bodies. Well, Jake’s body, since Shad was simply a hologram.
The door opened, and they walked down a long white-walled corridor. At the end was another door, and another hall, and another door after that. After three iterations of this sequence, they reached a staircase that winded up several floors. Following one last hall, lined with doors on only one side, they ended their journey in a holding room that looked out over the entire prison complex from high above.
The only furniture in the room was a long steel table with two chairs. One of them was occupied by a woman with her back turned to them. As the door closed, she turned.
Her brown skin radiated in the light pouring through from the prison complex. Frizzy black hair framed her head like a halo. She wore a black skirt and a white short-sleeved blouse, revealing long arms covered with tattoos.
To Jake’s amazement, she looked much like she did in the game, minus the business attire.
“Hello, Gunnar,” she said.
Her voice was soft and slow and seemed to seep into the core of his being.
He shook his head and stepped forward, more confused than ever.
“Hello, Nymoria.”
50
CHAMPION
The woman—the goddess—let out a soft laugh as she rose from her seat to greet him.
“Surprised to see me here?”
Jake turned but Shad was gone. Only he and Nymoria were in the room.
“Well, I’m getting used to weird shit,” Jake said. “I figured you might exist somewhere, but I’ve only seen you in that recording each time I level up in-game.”
“I truly hate that script.”
“So I’ve heard.”
Nymoria smiled. “I wanted to finally meet you in person.”
“What exactly is going on here?”
“Not many pass the trials,” Nymoria said sweetly. “Certainly few of my wards.”
“Well, the deck is a bit stacked in there.”
“You’re not wrong, Mr. Darrow. You’re not wrong.” She turned toward the window, motioning him closer. “A dreary reality here, isn’t it?”
Jake gazed out at the industrial dome. But his thoughts drifted to the girl, Alex Keynes. He wracked his brain, trying to remember if he’d talked to her.
Why else would her voice have sounded familiar?
The memory was all pretty hazy.
Except for her face.
Covered in blood.
“I deserve it,” he said at last. “At least I have the game, right?”
“Hmmm…” Nymoria’s voice drifted. “Yes, the game is meant to serve as a sort of respite, isn’t it… Tell me, is it a respite for you?”
Jake wondered if she meant something more than she was saying.
He shrugged. “It helps when I’m winning. Is that why you’re here? To see how I’m holding up?”
“I suppose I should explain,” Nymoria said. “I forget how little you know starting out. You and I have been paired in a way.”
“By the game?”
“By the fate I am able to purchase, you might say.”
“So, you’re—what?—an investor in Pantheon or something?”
“Of a sort. I don’t know if you realize it, but you are on the ground floor of something world-shattering. And I am one of many who wanted in on the action. And the ability to become a goddess offers a certain allure, as you might imagine.”
“As a recording in a game,” Jake said skeptically, noting that Nymoria did not have any of the same metal disks in her arms that he bore.
“This is no mere game. We are creating a new reality. Do you know the lengths people will go to in order to escape the reality they were born with? You prisoners are the ultimate example. But even I find an appeal to escaping our predictable world.”
“Yes, we clearly have a lot in common,” he muttered, sarcasm dripping from his words.
“I like your attitude, Mr. Darrow. But don’t mistake the dynamic here. You’re a felon who happened to wind up in prison at an opportune moment. I suggest you don’t screw it up. You’re right. I managed to attain the lowest level of goddess in the realms of Pantheon. And up to this point, for better or worse, you are my most promising servant.”
“What does that mean exactly?”
“The higher you ascend, the higher I ascend. Pantheon offers opportunities beyond anything you can imagine. It is about to go live, and the world will be watching the first players. As you might imagine, considering the hardware in your neck, this level of reality subversion will come at a high ticket price, and not a little trepidation. Most of the world will see it streamed, at least at first. The best players will be famous, and their sponsors will gain incredible money and power. I am offering you an opportunity to be my champion, if you will.”
“A lot of good fame is worth down here.”
Nymoria smiled and drew closer to him.
Her hand brushed his shoulder, and he winced with surprise, realizing that she was actually sharing this room with him.
He hadn’t realized how much he missed real physical touch.
“The beta is nearly over, Mr. Darrow. And most of these prisoners will exist as little better than NPCs when Pantheon goes live. Low-level players trod on by the greater gods and their greater players. You’ve already seen this play out. But you have an opportunity.”
“To be a prisoner who works for you.”
“Never underestimate the power of fame and money. You and I will be showcasing the greatest advancement in technology to the entire world.”
Jake didn’t believe what he thought she was suggesting. “You think you could… get me out of here?”
“If we rise high enough, anything is possible.” Nymoria smiled broadly, but there was something about it that felt strange. As though she were not accustomed to smiling very often.
Jake was skeptical that she could actually get him free. But he couldn’t imagine it would be a bad thing to be on the good side of someone rich and powerful. A champion.
“I’m off to a good start, then,” Jake said.
“You’ve barely begun. However, you’ve proven the ability to see past the inequitable mechanisms of the game and overcome them. You’ve got grit and intelligence, and a stroke of luck. And you’ll need more of that going forward.”
