Rats in a maze

Days went by.

The sudden monster attack on Sorostade kingdom was contained swiftly, but the city would bear the scars for decades to come, if one knew where to look. On several streets and squares, the cobbles were visibly newer than others. Some houses bore scorched facades but only from one side, ruling out a typical fire outbreak as the source. In places, the very building blocks on the thick city walls looked as if they were once melted on the surface, but cooled down soon after. A more attentive observer would notice that four hundred graves on cemeteries across the city all shared the same time of death chiselled on them. But life went on. It had to.

People talked, of course. They talked about what happened, what they had seen, who or what was responsible for this, and what they expected to happen next. It was a natural thing to do, after witnessing such tragedies.

However, some could only whisper of such things, lest they drew ire of those in power and the scorn of their friends and family. But how could they stay silent, when they had witnessed miracles?

There were places where they met in secrecy, and few were admitted.

—

Days went by.

The Players who counted such a thing knew it was one hundred and seven days since their imprisonment, or banishment, or teleportation - or whichever of those one believed - to this world. They thought back to the first minutes, first hours, when they still believed this was some kind of joke, or a dream, and that they would wake from it soon. Technically, it was three months and two weeks, but this world’s astral cycles were different, so the calendar was different too. And for those who did not keep a count at all, there was an Earth calendar posted outside the Town Hall on a signboard. It hung next to the latest directives of the Administration, and the upcoming major events such as raids or open-door days at the Hall.

—

Days went by.

They continued to foray into the darkest corners of the kingdom. Fortunately for them and unfortunately for the common folk, there were a lot of dark corners. Underground dungeons. Derelict strongholds. A lich tower and the crypt underneath. A very confusing cave with reflective walls. A forgotten battlefield rich in apparitions and ghosts. Troll and orc clans and their marauding parties. An underwater palace of the Naga, very difficult to get into and out of. And once cleared, they soon were swarming with enemies again.

There the raids went, and the raiders got better. Fewer backups were needed, which freed people to start more groups. The Clans were flourishing, and more often than before, a raid group would be comprised of only one clan’s members. This, however, caused strife when two or more clans arrived at the same place without awareness of each other’s plans. Some kind of schedule had to be arranged. The more they stayed, the more rules and systems they needed to ensure smooth co-habitation, and increasingly so, the unexpected fantasy adventure sometimes felt like bureaucracy instead.

It was not just Bittervet, Ripperjack, Sinistic, Maladoro, Shuo, Iyola, GhoString, Talon, Nob, Tycho, Sizipha, Eiri, Koori, and another three or four dozen bodies. Now it was about two hundred active raiders, and another sixty or seventy who were competent but content to stay in town. The young ones and the meek ones stepped up and steeled their sensibilities. Teaching them to cast skills was hard, but teaching them to kill was harder.

Everyone’s gear got better. New chestpieces, vambraces, gauntlets, trousers, boots, hoods, crowns, staves, shields, rings, swords, fists, necklaces, knives found new owners. They felt ready but they did not know what for. A precise goal, a clear path eluded them still. They hoped a destination would soon be set for them, and they looked to the five Administration members for guidance.

But even thus ready, they eyed the mountains in the distance to the north with wary anxiety. They tried several times to pass either over them, or through them by the massive doorway that likely marked the beginning of a very, very long tunnel. Or perhaps an extremely complex dungeon system. But they never got to the mouth of the tunnel and its brass-wrought lid. The resistance was fierce. Ogres with wicked magicks, twisted demons, boulder-throwing giants, poison-breathing drakes, and nimble stalker-beasts with speed and ferocity that put the Warp Predators to shame. People died a lot, but they studied everything.

A venture southeast from Rockbase into the Twisted Spire, a sleek tower with twenty-nine floors, finally paid off when it was conquered by the Overpower Clan, after several weeks of trying. The profit was great, but the reward yielded something priceless and unexpected - two massive stone tablets inscribed with instructions for new abilities, one for Monks and Wyches each. Four extra-strong Players needed to carry them all the way to the Guilds in Rockbase, and as if they were always meant to be there, they lodged themselves among existing abilities. Players of Rockbase now could cast Catch Blade as Monks, and Dominate Will as Wyches.

The discovery was massive, and the implication was clear - there were more skills to obtain out there in the wild.

For someone such as Eiri who had been one of the heads of the Portal Diver programme, the revelation was an inspiration of the highest order. What else is there to discover?, she wondered every day. She had not much else to do other than raiding. There were no new Dimensional Rifts anywhere in the kingdom. Two Portal Divers had been still unaccounted for. She yearned for new experiences. Perhaps she would find a way to travel to another continent, much like the Emissary Cobbalt once managed?

There was not a day that Tycho did not think about his family, and he suspected everyone else bar a few exceptions did too. He was known as the most cheerful person one can find, but only he knew how he burned inside. He wanted out. Now. But he would not unleash his frustration against some innocent person who just happened to be near, or who had conflicting interests with him. But damn if I don’t wish someone else would just cut the crap and do something with whoever is blocking our goal. There would come a time when he would start snapping, he knew. Until then, he would wear his helmet more often and the visor lowered, concealing his face. And he would make damn sure every monster, humanoid or not, sensitive to pain or not, sentient or not, would feel his cold fury. He avoided slaughtering humanoid monsters when he could, but if they had something that was needed for the great Return Home project, he would crush throats, break skulls, and pierce hearts, and pray that it mattered somehow in the end.

—

Days went by.

Though initially unwilling to grow roots in this place, for many it was no longer possible to deny reality. They were here. There was no way out. This was their new life.

Gone were the tents and mud roads. Gone was assembling raid groups outside town due to lack of adequate space. The new Town Hall Square at the foot of a four-storey-tall headquarter allowed that now, nicely tiled, cobbled, and spacious.

New businesses arose in Rockbase. Barbers. Cobblers. Construction guilds. Painting and sculpture workshops. Bars and restaurants. Even a small post office, and a court for settling conflicts, a project of a real-life law student. A truly controversial experiment, for a community that had very few laws. Ripperjack’s brewery however, had to wait for a source of clean water or a more suitable location.

—

Days went by.

Best in Stomach, nicknamed or abbreviated BiS, was a restaurant on the corner of Ninja Looter’s street and Skill Issue street. Such names were not out of the ordinary in Rockbase. Their levity, by itself sought after and appreciated by the exiled community, also masked their inner desire to remember that this had once been a game and nothing else. In their past lives, some people wished for an escape to a fantasy world, full of wonder, a sense of purpose, power, and perhaps elf girls - but faced with a view to stay in it forever and immortal at that, was something very few would bargain for. More so when they found no elf girls.

Best in Stomach was a large place, with three dozen tables. If they wanted to, and if there was demand, they could host weddings here. For the time being they fed Players with dishes that were perhaps not the finest cuisine - for they were still learning - but they made the best use of what this world had to offer. Exotic meats of wild beasts, aromatic spices imported from far south, unique vegetables and fruit - all combined with Earth techniques as much as they remembered.

The joint was living through its golden age, or golden days at least. The air in Sorostade changed. There was something in it, something… less welcoming, as of late. Some businesses did not want to make business with the Players. Some people did not want to look them in the eye. Some people resented those who got rich on the back of their trade with the strangers. And so, the businesses on the Rockbase side of Eastend Bridge were more needed than ever.

It was in this establishment’s curtain-separated room that the temporary leadership of Rockbase currently dined, although Seelastraxx snickered at the thought of temporary leadership. Three months and two weeks… it was never supposed to be like this, she thought. And I was never supposed to be in the middle of it. On that first night, all I wanted was for everyone to shut the hell up and for someone smart to step up. I was so upset with the chaos I felt I would explode. And what do you know, I exploded - in holy light. I had no idea it was a thing. I got what I wanted, I guess. Everyone did shut up. She wanted to scream, but she shook her head and dismissed the thought, but not for the first time and not for the last time. She focused on the steamed carrot on her plate. She stabbed it with her fork with extra force.

‘So how did it go?’ asked Krush.

‘He said no,’ Teec replied dryly, lifting a steaming bowl to his mouth and blowing. The days were getting colder. They all were about to experience with their own skins what the autumn and winter in their new home was like.

‘I know, but I’m asking how it went down.’

‘Bastard said that letting us take the Waygate is enough courtesy to show us. As if we could use it without commands that only he and his minions know.’

‘Asshole,’ commented Seelastraxx.

‘Did you remind him about Palisade Hill and Malosterion and that the city was attacked by monsters before we came here?’

‘Of course I did.’

‘So we’re back to square one. Either we play by Vivaro’s rules - and likely gain nothing - or we find a way to Tarragona. We need that language. Force the way through the mountains, or find a way around them,’ said Krush.

‘Senkar said there is no way around in his report,’ Esther pointed out.

‘No, he said he believes there is no way. He did not actually prove it. So, we must do it,’ Krush argued. He was on his third dish, a pink-fleshed fish baked with herbs.

‘Unless we find a way to separate a Church-Priest’s knowledge from his brain,’ mused Esther.

‘A little torture never killed anyone, that’s what I always say,’ said Seelastraxx. ‘Oh shut up, that was a joke. Fuck, you should know me by now. By the way, I remember that one Rogue girl, Sinistic, suggested we could steal the information. But now that they know we want it, they probably hid it deeper than ever, didn’t they… fuck, telling them about the grimoire was a mistake.’

‘We had to do it. At least now we know they have the key to the grimoire and the Waygate. We just need to pry it from them. Teec, can we leverage Tepper in any way?’ asked Esther.

‘Tepper is avoiding us right now. I think he doesn’t know how to position himself, which way to spin the story about the Hellhulk showers, whether to paint us as the source of the problem or the solution to the problem. Honestly, I don’t know which one we are.’

‘He’s going to wait to see how the population thinks, and then align himself to it,’

Seelastraxx said. ‘That’s what I would do.’

Teec downed a mug and wiped his mouth.

‘Ah, if only beer came cold. Anyway, if that’s what Tepper wants to do, then we can exploit that. We can try to change the public opinion to fit our needs. Then he has no choice but to support us too,’ he thought out loud. ‘Oneiron’s Hearts and minds, eh?’

‘Not really. Vivaro does not respect Tepper’s authority anyway. Huge effort for no gain,’ Esther countered.

‘Know what we did actually mess up? We should have been building a relationship with the crown prince. He will be on the throne soon, but he barely knows us. Who knows what people whispered to him about us all this time?’ mused Krush, stretching back on his seat.

‘We didn’t mess up, because there was never an angle. The heir lives away from the capital, and they don’t let people meet him just like that. I tried,’ Teec clarified.

‘Ah.’

The sound of approaching footsteps, not one pair but three, interrupted the conversation. The curtain parted revealing Oneiron, and two people behind him: Senkar, and Hestia. They wore casual clothes, although Senkar looked much refreshed compared to the day the Waygate spat him out. He contrasted with Krush, who lately started skipping self-grooming and was increasingly looking like a wizard.

‘Sorry I’m late,’ apologised Oneiron, and gestured towards the two behind him. ‘I ran across these two birds here at the door. I thought I should bring them along.’

‘Sure thing, come in!’ invited Esther, happy to increase the number of women at the table.

‘Thanks,’ Senkar said and elegantly pulled back a chair for Hestia, which she accepted, then sat himself next to her, elbow-to-elbow.

‘I actually have an idea to share,’ he said but before he could continue, Hestia interrupted him.

‘Seela… you don’t look good. How do you feel?’

‘Like a street hooker in the rain.’

‘You haven’t been sleeping well lately.’

‘I’m fine.’

‘Don’t lie to your doctor. What’s the matter?’ insisted Hestia.

Seelastraxx felt suddenly scrutinised by everyone, and seemed to shrink in her seat. She avoided eye contact with anyone, and said nothing.

‘She’s taking our lack of progress personally,’ Esther explained as if it was the most obvious thing that nobody noticed.

‘How foolish,’ sighed Hestia, the only person who would speak this way to Seelastraxx. ‘Darling. No-one is blaming you for anything.’

‘If you say so,’ muttered Seelastraxx.

‘Seriously. You are doing a wonderful job here, all of you,’ Senkar added. ‘And you know, I’ve actually been to another place, so I know what I’m saying. They did frakk-all there, and they have such great resources. Your results crush them in comparison. And none of you were actual politicians or managers in real life!’

‘And anyone who thinks they can do better can step up any time. It says so on the sign by the Town Hall. Somehow, nobody does,’ added Hestia. Those two souls were often in agreement.

‘So what did you want to tell us?’ asked Seelastraxx, overtly changing the topic.

‘This is going to be rather general, I’m afraid, which is why I didn’t come right away. But since Oneiron already ganked us like that…’ Senkar shrugged. ‘I’ve been thinking. I heard you called us rats in a maze? If that’s what it is, then we can either play along, or you know, not be rats and do the opposite.’

‘How?’ asked everyone, with words or with body language.

‘I told you about those pyramids and how they spawn monsters, yes? It’s in my reports. I’ve been thinking about this during my time in Torrago-, uh, Tar-ra-go-na. My point is: this is a game mechanic. Hell, a lot of things around us are game mechanics. We’re in a game. We’ve been exploring its boundaries, but now I say let’s do something with them. Let’s start messing with the mechanics,’ he slapped the table to emphasize his point. He scanned the faces to gauge their reactions, and they seemed somewhat sceptical - except Hestia, who had already heard it all from him, and smiled an encouragement. ‘Duplicate items. Go out of bounds. Get into the thing that spawns monsters, and see what we can break there. Exploit an infinite money glitch, or an item-printing mechanism. Find out what we’re not supposed to do, and do that!

Quiet laughter from Seelastraxx was the reaction to his words. They all looked at her with concern, but she was suddenly feeling great.

‘You’re saying we should try to get banned.’

—

Days went by, and became weeks.

The new Town Hall of Rockbase along with the Square in front of it was an inspiring sight for the souls stranded in NAVIS Online. Here was a testament to their capability to set aside their differences and ego and dedicate themselves to a goal that did not benefit anyone’s personal interests, or at least not directly. Everyone was invited to participate, even if it was just laying down a single brick or hammering one nail. It was symbolic, and it was a comforting act for people who shared a terrible burden.

Three floors, an angled, tiled roof, a gallery on the bottom level with a tiled floor, a basement-vault behind secure doors. A conference room, and a more private Council room. Offices for specific purposes that were as of yet unknown, but Krush always anticipated future needs and incorporated them in his designs. There were even chambers set aside for future restrooms, once a constant source of fresh water is connected.

And such a source was underway, although still dozens of kilometers away. In a stroke of either genius or arrogance, Krush and the architect Hobart had started construction of the first aqueduct of Sorostade kingdom, aimed directly at Sorostade. The idea was that if the Players just built it without asking, then the Lord Regent could just shrug and tell his nobles and his people I did not approve that, but what can I do? Jail them?

It worked.

And fortunately for Krush, Hobart, and the seventy-four volunteer workers from Rockbase and nineteen sworn to secrecy craftsmen who followed Hobart, not every part needed to be actually built. When the projected line led through hills and rocks, all they had to do was to cut a narrow channel through them, which would sometimes save them hundreds of metres of construction. For every other section though, it was down to painstaking chiseling of stone blocks, transporting them, lifting by crane, and putting down where they belonged. It was not complicated, but it was tedious. Work would not always go smooth, but the regular deliveries of food and visits from Rockbase friends and family helped greatly. Hobart himself was in the highest spirits of his life, doing the work he had dedicated his life to while knowing his daughter was well-provided and safe. She now lived in Rockbase among the Players, and helped Hestia everyday with what little medical aid the Players needed. Over time, however, more Sorostade people crossed the bridge seeking Hestia’s makeshift clinic, as if the word had been spreading about a great and wise healer living in Rockbase. Some were even leaving gifts at her doorstep. Hestia had no idea where the interest was coming from and how to feel about it.

But Hobart’s daughter Lucia knew exactly where. The word was spreading in privacy, in hushed whispers, and far from the old-fashioned minds of the Church. There were places where they met in secrecy, in the basements or in the attics - for now - and few were admitted. She was one of those admitted. In fact, she was one of the first, and it was her who admitted others. She would go to them every fourth day of the week, one place after another. There, she told about the healing miracles of The Good Lady Hestia, the wisdom and courage of the Bright Maiden Seelastraxx, or the might of their countless champions. Some stories were even real. And they listened, and they nodded. It all made sense. It was obvious. After all, did they not have a cousin, a brother, or a friend in the provinces and small towns and small communities where a troll, a goblin, a harpy, or a wolfen, took a calf, a chicken, a pig, or even a child? And who was there to stop them, to avenge the lost, or to rescue the abducted? Not the Royal Guard, and not the so-called “Blessed” Church, that was for sure.

Water delivery was not even the only project Krush had in the “pipeline”. He was busy as a bee these days. On the Lord Regent’s desk was a file with designs and estimations for an expansion of the Royal Shipyard. The problem was that the modest Shipyard was on the west coast of Sorostade kingdom, while the Players needed it on the east side - to anticipate future travels and transportation to and from Upperland. Tepper read it several times, and he agreed with the need, but did not like the cost.

He much preferred the other file. A proposed plan to regulate the river and prevent floods while creating more farmland. This aligned perfectly with Tepper’s priorities, considering the reports of rising prices of basic goods such as food. There was nothing anyone could do to reduce consumption, realistically - but where demand can’t go down, supply must go up. Six rural communities would have to be resettled from the future reservoir land for this to happen. Resettlement could be arranged, but it was time-consuming, and time was increasingly becoming a problem for Lord Regent Tepper. His days as the Regent were numbered, and were nearly all spent. The successor to the late king was already of ascension age, but he was dumb as a doorknob.

Education could be arranged, but it too was time-consuming.

Days went by.