If Audra noticed the failing expressions of the bouncers, she paid them no mind as she stepped through the portal into the establishment, Fille and Sera quickly following. The inside was cleaner than Fille was expecting--she'd seen enough of Rogueport to know that cleanliness was rarely an option, let alone a luxury. But inside here, which didn't have quite as many customers as the other hells and taverns, it was obvious to her why the leadership of Rogueport would come here.

"So where are they--" Fille's question was cut off by Audra raising a hand to forestall her.

"Don't worry, they're here," she confirmed. "Fille, go find us a seat. Sera, why don't you come with me so we can talk to the owner about getting you a spot on stage tonight?"

Rogueport

Sera nodded vigorously. The building was clean, inside. Rather, clean for Rogueport. The patrons of a higher, distinctly less grubby class. She'd sung in taverns that stank of urine and vomit. On docks for sailors, and even on the back of a wagon for a small caravan. This--this would work. "Sounds good to me." She paused a moment before ducking her head to Audra. "Thanks for helping with this, by the way."

Audra waved it off, her expression never faltering. "Don't worry about it," she told the bard. "If you want to pay me back, just be more careful about where you walk into to sing."

The thief escorted Sera up to the bar, sliding herself onto the stool, causing the grizzled-looking orc bartender to spare her a one-eyed glance. "Whatcha want?" he asked gruffly.

"Oh, I was wondering if you're in need of another songstress tonight," Audra said casually, sparing him a similar one-eyed glance.

"Already got a few people for entertainment," he muttered, leaning onto the rough wooden bartop with his forearms. "Unless she's dancing--"

"Oh, don't be like that," Audra interrupted, smiling. She set a moderate bag of gold down in front of her. "Variety's the spice of life, y'know."

The bartender eyed the bag for a moment, then harrumphed. He was about to say something when Audra shifted, holding up something on a cord just out of Sera's sight. The orc stared at it impassively for another moment, then sighed and snatched up the bag of gold. "Whatever. She can have an opening on the stage in an hour or two. You orderin' anything or what?"

"How likely is the water to kill me?" Sera asked with a soft smile to the bartender.

"Depends on how long you leave it unattended," the bartender grunted as he grabbed a glass and filled it with water. He slid the drink over the bar to Sera. "And you?" he asked, looking at Audra.

The two exchanged a few words, and then Audra led Sera away to the table that Fille had found for the three of them, two alcoholic drinks in hand. The other girl accepted the drink from Audra with a frown, taking a single look at the glass's contents and sighing.

"So, you two have a good day? Not counting this morning's festivities, of course," Audra asked of the other girls.

"Oh, Even this morning was--interesting." Sera hazarded as she sat, taking a sip of her water, letting it wet her throat. "Bit scary. But interesting. Things in the game are changing."

"Things in this game are always changing," Audra said dismissively, waving her glass a bit before taking a sip from it. "That's the whole point of a truly dynamic world."

Fille looked at her provided drink, grimaced once more, and then downed it all in one go. She slapped the glass back down on the table, scowling as she tried to ignore the burn--she didn't drink alcohol often, and didn't much care for the hard stuff that her friend preferred.

"Still, it takes a lot of guts for a Stamarian to march in this town like he owns the place, and blow up part of it," she finally said.

"I suppose you're right about that, but he's promised compensation for that," Audra admitted. "We'll see if he can actually get that compensation here intact, though."

Elle'n nodded, eyeing Larent over for one last time. She was almost disappointed she wouldn't be going on this mission with him, given everything, but it really was not her skill-set. "She'll be in touch, and so will I," she replied, retrieving her small jamming device she had planted before he arrived up on the roof. "You'd better let me go back down first, though, I think. Wouldn't want your partner getting suspicious when you walk out of the building before me."

---

Skild eyed her suspiciously, wondering if she were still trying to trick him. Ohh, that would be her game, he knew it would be, but that mask was just too good of a deal. Korresh could handle the killing, but he had more sophisticated goals to attain, he did. As much as he would relish sinking his teeth into her, who knew what that mask could do?

He almost agreed, but then he remembered one last thing, causing him to physically take a step back, matching his mental apprehension. "And the mask's origins? You must guarantee me this master's location!" He'd not be tricked by her again--no, not him! Watching her run away beaten would be almost as good as watching her die.

Branwyn was almost tempted to tell the truth- it was so much more stable than a lie, after all. She was the one who had stitched it together and gathered all the different types of enchantments into one place. She didn't have the power to enchant it herself, but that hadn't mattered much. The mask was a hodge-podge of magical charms, and she could just tell the thing that. But then she remembered something she'd said earlier, and she frowned visibly. "I told you- it's really old. I don't know who made it, and even if I did, he's long dead. It may even be something pre-programmed into the game; who knows? I just bought the thing. But," and a spark of curiousity entered her tone, "can you do that? Just leave the city whenever you want?"

Skild looked around reluctantly, trepidation tugging at him in fits. "Leave?" he repeated softly, almost a whisper. "Of course I can leave, but what good would it do? What good?! Here I live forever. Out there... They hunt us and kill us and leave us to rot." He paused for a moment, looked away dolefully but then glanced back, muttering spitefully, "You'd like that, wouldn't you?" That was probably this game she mentioned so flippantly. No wonder Korresh killed all the humans who entered Thebas; they were insufferable!

Branwyn felt a brief pang of sympathy, but it didn't last long. "You do kill whoever enters the city; is it really surprising that people don't want to be friends?" She sighed and leaned against the wall again. "I'm sorry, that was rude. Do you ever feel trapped here?" An odd feeling was stealing over her- it wasn't pity, more... empathy? "I hate feeling trapped," she said, "it's why I left home."

The child-sized creature shifted uncomfortably at her change in tone, his trust in the living already thin. Did he feel trapped here? He had never thought about it, no, but... There were things out there, he knew it. Masks and shiny things and fun. The feeling of nostalgia for a memory he did not have spirited through him, but it was gone as quick as it came.

"I have plenty of friends here," he retorted indignantly, bringing himself back to reality, "what difference is it to you anyway?" He balled up his fists, frustrated but not in any one direction. Had she come all this way to make fun of him? Or was she right? No, outsiders were never right. He wasn't lonely; he had his rooftops.

Branwyn raised an eyebrow coolly at his reaction. It really was just like a child, wasn't it? Throwing tantrums left and right, getting all emotional- disgusting. The fear was wearing off now, and Branwyn began to feel more comfortable. She was getting out of here, she knew it; the danger of immediate death seemed to have passed.

"No difference," she said, her tone just a fraction of a shade colder, "I won't be the one spending eternity in the same city. I will be free- free from my family, free from this accursed game, free from anyone and anything that tries to tie me down. It doesn't make any difference to me whether you stay here for the rest of forever or not." She had been about to say 'for the rest of forever and rot!' but she stopped herself at just the last moment. With a great internal effort, she dropped the slightly confrontational tone and smiled warmly. Do not affend the undead monster who holds your life in its slimy claws, Branwyn!

"Hey, we both have something the other wants, right? You want the mask, and I want out. This should be easy! Safe passage out the city and away from Thebas in exchange for the mask. No tricks. Deal?"

Her colder tone chilled any warmth Skild had rising in him as well, and he crossed his arms defiantly. The sooner she was gone, the better. Outsiders couldn't ever be trusted. The sooner he was back on his rooftops, the better! "Fine," he agreed at last, knowing that simple word was more bonding than any spell. It was a good enough deal, anyway; he'd get the mask and get rid of her, all at once.

He eyed her up and down for a moment though, noting how little her body was really suited for these conditions. Even under all those abominable, trickery-filled wrappings, he could see that much. "You'll have to stay close, though. The others might sniff you out, if you get too close."

Branwyn smiled underneath the mask but merely nodded. Information was power, after all, and she didn't feel like sharing the fact that the wrappings charmed, among anything, her scent. Her invisibility went beyond just sight. She felt a warm, fuzzy feeling course through her at the knowledge that she knew something the little imp didn't, and the power her own smarts had given her made her almost glow behind the mask.

Then the imp's head nodded up and down, and she realized with a start that it was staring at the bulges clearly evident beneath the wrappings. All the warmth flooded out of her, and she felt naked and self-conscious. She really was fat and ugly, but did the imp have to be so obvious? Tears welled up in her eyes, but she pushed them determinedly back. No crying in front of the abomination!

"Lead the way," she said. And, just in case she needed its help later, "thank you. For helping me. I know it must be hard to stick to your promise, but it means a lot that you are."

The creature glanced at Branwyn reluctantly as she thanked him. Did she mean it? Part of him wanted to believe it, but part of him knew how quickly she could change that nasty little tone of hers. One moment she was all sweet and helpful, the next moment she was cruel and tricky. Dirty, nasty, fat outsiders. The sooner she was gone, the better. He let her thanks fall flat on his ears.

Silently, he led the way to a staircase, doubting she had the agility for anything else. Down it they went, dropping them in a shadow-filled alley, and so the journey began. It wasn't terribly far to the walls, but he checked every corner before he led her through it. The streets were mostly barren, and that awful disguise seemed to work well enough at a distance to avoid the casual glance.

Before long, they were at a side-gate, rotten to the core like the rest of the city. The rusted hinges groaned loudly as he opened it. Giving the girl a begrudging nod to go ahead before him, he held the thing open. He'd take her over the first hill, out of sight of the city, and then his end of the bargain would be done, he decided. But they were not there yet. Hopefully she wouldn't do anything stupid before they got there, now that they would be out in the open.

"Almost there," he muttered, shutting the door behind him and looking out over the expanse of desert. "If we see anyone, don't say a word, you understand?" The road to Thebas was just as dangerous as the one inside the walls.

Rogueport



"How am I the only one who's heard of this guy? He's on your continent. He's the biggest NPC Stamarian Military leader here. Isn't he? He never leaves his zone. Or he didn't used to. There's dynamic and then there's boss spawns. He's not supposed to leave. But here he was, walking around in Rogueport." She looked around at the two in confusion. "What gives?"


____

Tsuminar


"Heaven's. He knows exactly what I'm doing." Larent replied with a half-smile.

Edited by Ajax on December 31, 2014 at 4:28:58

"What gives? Sera, sweetie, just how heavy a grasp do you think the AI programming is in this game?" Audra asked, not unkindly. "They'll constrain certain NPCs to the game through roundabout methods, sure, but they can't permanently keep someone somewhere. The NPC will get suspicious."

"Makes sense that even the boss NPCs have some degree of freedom," Fille admitted, thinking over what Audra told them.

Rogueport


Sera sighed. "I'd never heard of him leaving his zone before." She finally replied.

"Neither have I," Audra said, leaning back in her seat and taking a sip of her drink. "It's being looked into. Need to figure out how he operates anyway, after the crap he pulled today."

Branwyn hated emotion. She wasn’t an unfeeling robot, nor did she dislike the concept of emotion or even its expression; rather, she hated how little control she had over it. Her passions yanked her this way and that, tugging her around like a dog bound by leash to its master, and she hated them for it. Her intellect knew that she was safe, but despite its attempts to explain to her fluttering heart that the protection of the contract she’d formed with the imp, coupled with the many enchantments she’d had woven into her costume, meant that she was perfectly safe, her heart still insisted on pumping adrenaline, anxiety, and overpowering fear into every pore, kicking every single sweat gland into gear, and ordering her lungs to take in as much of the rotten and diseased air of Thebas into her system as possible.

They crept down the streets of Thebas, Branwyn doing her best not to hyperventilate, and they stopped frequently as the imp checked around corners and kept her safe- safe! The muscles in her stomach clenched, though the jiggling fat surrounding them barely noticed, as the thought sent a spasm of dark chortles down her abdomen. The imp wanted nothing more than to rip her throat out, she knew, and what was keeping her safe? Some childish attachment to word, promise, and honor! If the situation had been less dire, she would’ve laughed, but though the tension in the scene somehow made the desire to laugh stronger, she was glad she didn’t; it would’ve come out as manic, and mania didn’t confer a sense of control and confidence to anyone. As royalty, Branwyn knew the emptiness of words, the naivety of promise- the only promise that had any weight was one of retribution. The fact that she was depending on something she knew to be hollow, that her life was supported on something so flimsy as a promise, made her terror all the greater.

The imp opened the door, and Branwyn squeezed herself through it. She barely fit. Curse her blobs of blubber! It warned her not to do anything stupid as they crossed the desert, and Branwyn frowned. Stupid wasn’t something she did. Then the mad desire to laugh swept over her again- what was she thinking? What was more stupid than coming alone into the cannibal city of the hostile undead?

“Well, string me over a cookin’ fire and call me a bacon! Those two fellers don’ did just come outta ‘dat dere city, yessiree! Billy-Bob, Joe, com’n see!”

A group of men, their faces painted and huge guns strung carelessly over their shoulders, had just stepped over a nearby dune. Humans! Branwyn nearly began to weep right there and then- honest to goodness humans!

“Bet you one to ten they’re those abonimaytions, Gary-Lue! Those man-eating ones from the city!”

Branwyn pushed up her mask quickly, showing the people (and their enormous guns) her face. “Human! Human! Don't shoot!”

Edited by Quill on January 5, 2015 at 23:00:16

Elle'n raised an eyebrow, not really sure if she believed him or not but deciding it didn't matter. "As you say," she replied coldly, though she still made her way to the elevator, intent on going down first. "We'll be in contact," she finished, stepping into one of the services elevator still on the roof.

---

Skild froze, spotting the strangers. Ohhhh, they were dumb. So stupid! Then the girl took off her mask--that thing that he craved so much--and he stamped his feet in frustration. Turned out she was stupid too. Glancing around, his eyes flipping to and from the men on the hill, he wondered if it was too late to turn around the way he came.

Definitely too late. Stupid!

Calmly, he moved an arm in front of Branwyn, keeping it chest level in an attempt to stop her from moving right away. "Wait," he said softly, not sure if she would listen. "They can't protect you," he persisted, his voice no more than a hoarse whisper. He hated outsiders, but he still didn't like watching this.

From the hills--the same hills these men had crept out from--the sand churned. Bones dredged forth, sand slipping free from them as they took shape into their whole skeletons. Shambling, death-walkers, they let forth a howling that gave even Skild chills. With unlimited numbers and impossible strength, the breathers would all but certainly lose. Ohh, they would lose. Soon they would be the ones screaming.

Rogueport

Sera watched Audra curiously. "You can leave the game? Maybe send a ping to Y-Corp. Or look in the credits. See who wrote him? Check the forums too." She sipped her water, finishing the glass slowly as the sounds of the pub surrounded them. As singing venues went . . well, this would do just fine.



Tsuminar



Larent watched her go, already trying to decide exactly when she would betray him. This perhaps had been a mistake. But there was nothing for it now but to make the best of it. Adapt and survive. He gave her a good five minutes, then headed down and back out to the van. Hopping in, exchanging a few terse words with his subordinate. And heading back to the tower. They had plans to discuss.

Edited by Ajax on January 7, 2015 at 5:39:07

"Ah, I've got no connections to Y-Corp, but I can leave the game, I'm not a Theta," Audra confirmed for the bard. She motioned to her with her glass. "And I did check the forums today. There's been some talk about his movements even before I asked, so it's definitely unusual in one sense. Like I said, I'll keep an eye on matters, see what happens. Rogueport's been burnt down enough as it is."

Rogueport



Sera blinked at that comment. "It's been burnt down before?" She asked, setting the glass down in front of her, idly running a finger along it's lip. She'd been interested in the game for some time, ever since her father had told her how it worked. But hadn't paid much attention to Cher Plek's fiction or backstory.

"Rogueport gets burned down all the time," Audra said dismissively. "A place like this? Not exactly sturdy and lots of factions don't like us, so it's easy to wreck the town. They don't realize something like Rogueport can't be killed, though. We'll just build it back up and make them pay for it."

She sighed, exasperated. "Honestly, what was he thinking? Blowing us up isn't going to intimidate us."

Tsuminar - Two Days Later

In the heart of Tsuminar, a few levels off the floor of the city's criminal surface, was a tea-house. Crammed between competing businesses on either side, the place was easy enough to miss or never notice, but the volume of people in the city ensured that all space got used. For this reason, as a raven-haired woman named Aleina pushed open the door gently, the place was quite busy; she was not surprised. It was why she'd picked the place, anyway.

A day prior, she'd left the man named Larent Shepard a message. It'd been a simple thing, scribbled on a napkin and slipped into his possession, but it'd asked him to meet her here, right around this time. According to Elle'n, he was sure to show up, but you never really knew. Aleina had worked with Elle'n for years, but she trusted the woman about as far as she could throw her. Stamarians were rarely people you trusted. Even still, they functioned in a way that benefited both of them, and she was fine with that.

Silently, she waved at the owner in a familiar fashion before sitting at one of the few unoccupied tables, the buzzing noise droning all around her. She thought better when there was a constant humdrum of life, even if it was questionable in a game like this. More importantly, though, it was harder to kill someone with witnesses. It didn't stop everyone, though. Leaning back in her chair, she smiled at the woman who delivered her tea, and she relaxed herself a notch. Shepard could already be here, for all she knew, but either way--if he was what Elle'n seemed to hope he was, Aleina was not worried about him spotting her.

Rogueport



"Well . . .maybe he wasn't trying to intimidate you?" Sera suggested, her expression a touch befuddled. Perhaps the few stories she'd heard of this Warlord were just that, random stories and myths. "But, he walked out alive. So if you guys weren't intimidated, why'd you let him go? he blew up like--three of your buildings?" Here her voice grew more uncertain. She'd seen the smoke, but didn't know how much damage had been done.

Just the thought of it caused an odd feeling in the pit of her stomach. In the real world she'd never seen anything like real war. And now she was dangerously close to a video-game version of it. Which probably meant more explosions and violence, as most things were larger than life in this game. Her face blanched at the thought. "Are you guys going to go after him?"

____

Tsuminar



He'd arrived fashionably early, but not terribly so. People took notice of a slender man sitting in a tea-house for hours on end. No, better to be roughly twenty minutes early. Settle in and watch.

several sips of tea later and the woman he presumed to be his contact entered. He watched her for a few precious moments, mind racing. But really - there was nothing for it. Committed to this path ... yes, he supposed he was. He laid a simple non-tracable credit chit on the table for his tea, then stood and headed for the raven-haired woman.

With a simple movement, he pulled out the chair opposite her and sat down, posture straight, polite and business like. "I rather like this place. A good choice to meet." he said conversationally.


______


Game-World Research Station 6, Valtheran expanse.


They'd only been stuck here for a little over a month. But being stuck in a cramped research station meant to house people for only a few hours while they did in-game testing---well. It was getting dreadful, with the five of them stuck here. Lead Researcher Nim sighed and stared at his readout screen.

"He's moving back to his base." He muttered, leaning back in his chair in the large common area they'd all taken to working in. A man in his late thirties, he didn't appear imposing, or even a man who would stand-out. Premature grey hair, gentle eyes and skin harkening back to his home city of Hong Kong. Not terribly tall, with a bare soul patch of facial hair and a gaunt, terribly tired look to his entire being.

To his left, Gill glanced up, her auburn hair cascading down to her slender shoulders and making him smile, tired even as he was. "Is the girl still with him?"

He dragged his thoughts away from his wife's beauty and nodded glumly. "This particular Theta happens to have found one of the few characters in this game that's killed multiple Theta's. What. are. the. Odds?" He pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes. So tired. So, so tired. The others were sleeping right now, or trying to. A month without so much as a peep out of the home office. Only a few techs calling and saying "We're working on it."

But at least they were safe, down here. the facility was deep below the dragon spawning grounds of Valtheran. Safe and hidden. God only knew what was happening to their bodies in the real world. The players though. The other Thetas? "We should probably try to warn her off." Gill said, her voice echoing the weariness he felt. "Send her an anonymous message? Get away from the Warlord?"

Her husband nodded again, more firm. "Hell of a glitch." He muttered, typing out a message on his console. He sent it to Gill to look it over, and then with her addendum. Passed it off into the system and to a player in what he thought was possibly the most dangerous situation he'd come across. All because of a damn glitch in the system. Some days, he hated working for Y-Corp.

____



Stamarian 7th Armored Legion. Cher Plek Roadways



A message pinged in Terrel's inbox. The sender anonymous.

-Warlord very dangerous. Advise getting away from his as quick as safety allows. If you can't. Play up Stamaria loyalties. He is very loyal to Stamaria. Please, be safe.-

Edited by Ajax on January 12, 2015 at 5:27:52

A grin crept across Aleina's face as she put her teacup down, eyeing Larent from head to toe obviously. Typical Stamarian--all business and no character. The way they acted most of the time, a tuxedo was probably their casual-Friday garb. Oh, sure, some of them were adept enough to fake it through, but deep, deep down, this was why she couldn't take them seriously. They did enough of that for everyone else.

"Well, you're cute," she remarked with an eyebrow raise, tilting her teacup back and forth in her hands idly. "Elle'n really doesn't pay well enough for these jobs, half the time. Maybe we should ditch the whole thing and just go to town on each other?" Her tone, while lilting with a hint of amusement, was nearly as serious as his was.

---

Terrel nearly jumped when the PM notification blasted on her interface, the ringing noise like a foghorn to her half-conscious state. Biting off a curse under her breath, she tried to make her movements look like no more than a twitch as she shifted positions to something more comfortable.

Opening the thing, the automated voice in her head read the message aloud, and she resisted the urge to openly frown. The Hell? Was this Rua's idea of getting back at her? Probably. Caught up in all the huffing and puffing of trying to be some ruddy hero, no doubt he was steamed he couldn't save the day. Served him right, though--stabbing her in the back like that, even if it was with...

The thought trailed off in her head, and she really did grimace this time. The sooner she reached Kallagulia the better. If this Warlord bloke felt like causing trouble along the way, it'd hardly be her first time in Stamarian irons. Not like it mattered much anymore, though.

"I'm kind of curious about that myself," Fille admitted, looking over at her friend. "Doesn't seem like this place to just let someone that hostile just waltz out of here."

"Hmm, is that what it looked like?" Audra murmured. "I suppose it would, wouldn't it? Well, girls, lemme ask you this: what's better? To assassinate someone who has his guns pointed at your doorstep, or to exploit what little worth he has towards your own ends?"

"So you're using him," Fille remarked.

"He's offered us recompense for his actions, so there's that," Audra mentioned, avoiding a proper answer. "Whether or not it'll reach here is a different question. We'll see how resourceful he is. The mayor thinks we should put him in the path of the Four Gods, but that might be more trouble than it's worth."

"...might be?" said Fille, a touch incredulous at the idea.

Edited by RisingDragon on January 14, 2015 at 21:58:11