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  “Ha!” Krieger shook his head. “Worry not, Mace. You’re not here as sacrifice. In fact…” Krieger set the dagger down on the glass counter, then indicated the rest of the weapons inside. “I thought maybe you could use one of these yourself.”

  Mace relaxed, smirking at the old drow. “I was thinking the same thing myself.” He reached out and took hold of the dagger. It felt good in his hand. Ironbender frowned at him. He reached out and took back the dagger, setting it on the glass. “A young lout like yerself won’t be affordin’ any o’ my work.”

  Krieger’s face went flat. He leaned toward the dwarf, saying in a deadly calm voice. “This is no lout. You are addressing a Darkblade, dwarf. One to whom I and my house owe a debt. Speak to him in such a manner again, and I’ll gift him your tongue.”

  Ironbender quickly raised both hands in a placating gesture. “Me apologies, Swordmaster. Darkblade. I dinna’ know. Ye look to be a novice of little means.”

  Mace grinned at the nervous dwarf. “And how else should a Darkblade look? Should I advertise my profession, warn my targets of my presence?”

  The dwarf laughed, still a bit nervous “Aye, I see yer point.” He took the dagger from the glass and set it back in the case. Moving his hand to the opposite end of the case, he withdrew a different dagger.

  “This be more fitting for one o’ yer profession.” he said as he set the dagger on counter. “It comes with a spring-loaded wrist sheath.” he added, setting the sheath next to it.

  The dagger was a thing of beauty. With a blade maybe five inches long, it was made of some dark metal, that Mace didn’t recognize. The blade had a fuller so narrow it called the words ‘blood groove’ to mind. One side of the blade, for about an inch above the guard, was wickedly serrated. It would allow one to insert the blade into a target, then rip upward, doing immense damage. The handle was the perfect size to fit Mace’s hand, and was wrapped in a spotted black leather of some kind. The quillon was curved upward on both sides into sharp points that would puncture a target if the blade sunk deep enough. All in all, a wicked looking thing.

  Mace reached out and took it in hand. The weight was much less than he’d expected. Looking up at the dwarf, he asked “What metal is this?”

  “Dark mithril.” Ironbender answered. “Light as air, but tougher than the strongest steel. The handle be rock troll hide, softened ‘n dyed ta match.”

  “It’s beautiful, Master Ironbender.” Mace said quietly. He was sure the dagger was ridiculously expensive, and dared not get his hopes up. He set the weapon back on the glass.

  “That one’s yet to taste a soul. It were a commission fer a thief that dinna’ live long enough to claim it. She paid for half up front. To make up fer me big mouth, I’ll sell it to ye fer the other half. A hunnert gold.”

  Mace was reaching into his bag, thinking Take my money! when Krieger said “Sold. A gift from my House. Now. Let’s talk about my sword. I wish to commission a very specific weapon. And I promise you, I shall live to pick it up.” he winked at Mace.

  Krieger and Ironbender moved through a back door of the shop, to a smaller room where the dwarf had a drafting table. He began to sketch out a blade based on Krieger’s specifications. Mace left them to it. He lifted the dagger again and began to move through a few dagger forms. Keeping his feet planted and moving only his arms and his body from the waist up. The blade was fast and light. More than once he broke form to look at his hand, making sure he hadn’t somehow dropped it.

  Speaking of light, he was a bit startled when he suddenly felt Minx alight on his shoulder. In his excitement over the dagger, he’d not even noticed that she’d left. She settled in, wrapping her tail around his neck again. That set off alarms in his head. “What have you been up to?” he whispered. She just looked at him blankly.

  Mace looked around the shop. He didn’t notice anything obviously missing that his little thief might have snatched. He examined the case as well, and didn’t see any empty spots on the felt. “If you’ve gone n pooped in a corner somewhere or something…” This earned him a glare and a mental image of her biting his nose to make his face numb again. He chuckled. “Okay okay. Just please don’t get me into any trouble in here.”

  Minx looked indignant, then curled up and tucked her nose under her tail. Clearly dismissing her pet drow. Mace shook his head, then amused himself by inspected the sheath that came with his new dagger. The thing was long, made of stiff leather. It had straps near the top and bottom. When he held it against his forearm, it covered nearly the entire length. He fastened the straps near his elbow and wrist, then held out his arm like he was Spiderman shooting a web. The spring was designed to activate with a certain flick of his wrist. It took several practice tries before he got the motion right. Then several more before he felt he could reliably activate it at need. Only then did he load the dagger into the contraption and test it.

  With the first flick of his wrist, he properly activated the spring release. However, the knife shot forward to land on the floor some distance away. He hadn’t closed his hand to grip the knife handle quickly enough. He’d been afraid to cut himself on the enchanted blade.

  Deciding to play it safe, he placed the dagger in his inventory. Looking around the shop, he located a normal dagger with approximately the same weight. He loaded it into the sheath, and began to practice.

  Being made of normal steel, the practice dagger had to be smaller, to match the weight of his dagger. This was a good thing, as he needed more precise timing to grab hold of the smaller handle. After a dozen tries, he finally achieved a firm grip on the practice knife. Once he’d managed it a dozen times in a row, he would feel ready to try it with the more dangerous blade.

  Looking up from his practice, Mace found Krieger and Ironbender both staring at him. He shrugged “Figured I should practice so I don’t cut myself and drain my own soul.” He explained.

  The dwarf nodded his head “Good thinkin. It be a skill that takes some learnin.”. Krieger just smiled.

  “Master Ironbender, I’d like to purchase this dagger, so I can continue to practice.” Mace set the normal dagger on the counter. “Also, I’m thinking maybe a replacement spring? In case I wear this one out?”

  The dwarf laughed. He searched a shelf behind his counter for a minute, producing a spring, which he set down next to the dagger. “Let’s call it ten gold” he said. Mace produced the coins and collected the items. He was actually quite pleased. Though it wasn’t enchanted, the dagger was still master-crafted and of very high quality.

  Ironbender looked to Krieger. “I can have yer sword ready in three days. Ye’ll be needin to pay half now. Includin’ the price o’ the dagger.”

  Krieger produced a bag of considerable weight and set it on the counter. He nodded at the dwarf, who grunted in return, and they left the shop.

  “Thank you, Master Krieger, for the generous gift.” Mace said as they walked back toward the elevators.

  “A small repayment toward the debt I owe.” Krieger replied. “You saved my life. And I put great value on my life.” He chuckled.

  Mace returned to his room at the inn. Ready to log off, he looked at Minx. “And what happens to you when I log? I can’t leave you here. You might starve. Or get yourself into trouble.”

  He pulled up his UI and found a new tab labeled “Companion”. Opening the tab, he found what he was looking for. He focused on the button that said “Dismiss”, and watched as Minx faded away. Satisfied, he laid down on the bed and logged out.

  Chapter 8

  Land of the Light

  Shari was a bit melancholy as she stepped out of her room at an inn in the Elven city. Normally when she played the game, Sheila would meet her here in the corridor, and the two of them would go adventuring. Shari rarely played alone. She’d always felt she should be studying or doing something more useful than gaming. It was always Sheila who talked her into taking a break to play.

  But now she had a mission. Mace had explained to her about his p
lan to transfer his consciousness into the game. Or at least, copy it. He knew (as did Shari) that their chances of living long lives, even in the secure underground facility, were slim. While they had a near endless supply of electricity and water, obtaining food involved risking their lives every time they went out. Eventually the odds would catch up to them, and one or both would perish.

  She set her jaw and headed down the stairs. The idea of transferring her mind into a server forever creeped her out. But the alternative was a short life and likely a gruesome death. She was resolved to do what she needed to do in order to join Mace in the game permanently. To start with, that meant increasing her sync level with the game.

  It had been months since she’d played, so Shari stopped in the tavern, taking a table. She ordered some food and a sweet tea that would give her buffs to her intelligence and health regeneration. While she ate, she pulled up her quest log to see if any of her old quests were still active. Though she’d not been in game, the game world moved on whether she was there or not. Proof of this could be found in the several “failed” quests that showed up in her log. One had been to find a lost boy who’d wandered into the woods. The note under the failed status said the boy had been eaten by wolves.

  Her log still showed a few active quests. Mostly bounty quests. Kill ten rabid wolves and return with their hides. She couldn’t help but wonder… maybe if she’d knocked that one out last time she was in-game, the boy might have made it home alive. She’d put it off because Sheila didn’t like to kill things.

  There was a quest to gather herbs for one of the alchemists, and another to explore a remote section of the forest, where ghosts had been reported. That one might be beyond her ability to finish solo. As a druid, she had solid healing magic, and could manipulate nature to a certain degree. But her DPS was low, as she was lacking much in the way of offensive magic. Or weapons training.

  She left the inn, deciding to find some additional quests to help her level up. She wanted to be level 20 at least before she met up with Mace. Based on what he told her, she figured she had a couple days to make that happen.

  The first thing she did was visit her class trainer, Arlon. An old druid who made his home in an exceptionally large hollow tree near the center of town. The elven city was partially built in the trees, of course. Emarien had started eons ago as a village built entirely in the treetops. As it grew, ground level buildings were constructed. Then taller buildings with towers that reached above the treetops. But the trees were left intact. The result was a beautiful green city with elegant structures mixed with ancient trees shaped into homes. There were paved stone roads on the ground, and elevated walkways suspended between the trees. The city’s perimeter wall consisted of a ring of elder trees connected by dense thorny growths that grew twenty feet high and six feet deep. Nothing larger than a mouse could penetrate the thorn wall, and even a mouse might suffer some scratches. There were guard posts in each of the trees, and a combination of wide branches and walkways let the guards patrol the perimeter.

  Arlon’s tree was a giant among the elders. Twenty feet wide at the base, it reached high above the forest canopy. Its branches extended out over an extensive garden that encircled the tree. Shari followed the path through the garden to the druid’s front door, and knocked politely. After a moment, the old elf’s head stuck out a window above.

  “Ah, young Shari. It has been some time since you visited. I thought perhaps you had perished. It seems many of the outworlders have either died or left the city.”

  Shari smiled sadly at the old druid. “Yes, I’m afraid I am among the last. I apologize for being away so long. But I am ready to resume my training.”

  “Yes, yes. Of course! Do come in. I’m in my study. You know the way.”

  Shari opened the front door and entered the tree. The interior had been shaped by the druid to be a comfortable space for visitors. There was a ramp to her right that wound around the interior of the trunk up to the levels above. To her left was a sitting room with soft chairs and small tables. She knew from experience that a kitchen was tucked away in the back behind a partition wall.

  Turning right, she climbed to the third level, where Arlon’s study was located. The room took up the entire level, and was maybe Shari’s favorite room anywhere in the game. The walls were lined from floor to ceiling with shelves and cubby holes that were filled with books, scrolls, jars and boxes of spell components. The old elf’s desk was always buried in papers and sundry items, including at the moment several empty teacups and a plate with a half-eaten wedge of cheese. The floor was likewise cluttered with stacks of ancient tomes, atop several of which sat cages holding small creatures. Arlon sat behind his desk, scratching notes onto a piece of parchment.

  “Good afternoon, Master Arlon.” Shari smiled at her mentor. The grandfatherly old elf was one of her favorite characters in Elysia.

  “Come, Shari! Sit!” Arlon motioned to a chair in front of his desk. Seeing that it was full of books, he switched to point out another chair. Finding it also full, he chuckled. “Just clear one of them off. I’m a bit behind on my organizing.”

  Shari carefully lifted the stack of books from the first chair, setting them on the floor next to it. Taking a seat, she said “I hope you’ve been well?”

  “I have indeed.” Arlon nodded his head. Among the eldest of the elves born on Elysia, Arlon’s face was that of a mature male. In human terms, he’d have looked to be in his forties. His actual age was closer to ten thousand years. Elves were so long-lived as to be practically immortal. His was a kind face, often smiling. Though now his smile was tentative. “Things have been… quiet here, without the outworlders running about everywhere. We heard rumors of some kind of tragedy in your world. The council has come to the opinion that all of you returned to defend against some invader.”

  Shari shook her head. Trying to keep her voice steady, she answered. “Tragedy is accurate enough. My world has been all but destroyed. Few of my people still live. Even fewer of the survivors are able to… make the journey here. I know of only one other at the moment. My friend Mace. And he is in the underground realms. I’m afraid that when I’m gone, you may not encounter any more outworlders, Master Arlon.”

  The old druid looked thoughtful. “This is dire news. We have come to depend on you outworlders for many things. Would you be willing to address the council of elders and share this news?”

  Shari nodded. She’d never pass up a chance to meet the elders of the council. “Of course, Master. It is the least I can do.”

  Quest Accepted: Share the Sorrow

  Difficulty: Easy

  Meet with the Elven council of elders, and share with them your news about the outworlders missing from Elysia.

  Reward: Unknown.

  Arlon rose and approached one of his cages. He withdrew a small bird, and whispered something into its ear before tossing it out one of the windows. “Whippet will alert the council. They will gather at dusk. In the meantime, I’m sure you didn’t come here just to visit an old elf.” he winked at her.

  Shari smiled “I came to see if you had any more quests for me. And to see if I could learn any more magic. I need to grow stronger, so that I may meet up with Mace when he reaches the surface. Then the two of us will seek out any other surviving outworlders.”

  “Could not this Mace come here to retrieve you? The forest is not safe for one such as you.” Arlon frowned.

  Shari shook her head again, trying to decide how forthright she should be. Deciding she had nothing to lose, she said “Mace cannot enter the city. He is a drow. And while he has a good heart, despite his race, as a drow he would be executed on sight if he even approached the city.”

  “I see. You are correct, I’m afraid. I have seen many outworlders of other races, even monster races, behave honorably. I know that the race you outworlders are born into on Elysia does not always reflect your inner self. For example you, my dear, are much too serious for a young elf. But many of my people do not
share in this knowledge, and were your friend to approach, they would simply see one of the ancient enemy.”

  “Which is why I’ve arranged to meet him far from the city. And why I’d like to get stronger as quickly as I can.” Shari replied.

  “Well then, let us see what we can do.” The old druid considered for a moment. “There is a ritual, normally reserved for druids who have attained level twenty or higher. It allows you to see your spirit animal. And imparts the ability for you to bind with one such animal. However, the ritual requires certain spell components, which you must gather. Most can be found within a half-days walk of the city. But they will be difficult to obtain on your own.” he warned.

  “Sounds perfect. I’ll do it.” Shari didn’t hesitate. This was exactly what she needed. Bonding a spirit animal might give her the help she needed to reach Mace.

  Quest Accepted: The Animal Inside You

  Difficulty: Very Hard

  Gather the ingredients needed for the ritual, and report back to Master Arlon. Complete the ritual.

  Reward: 2,000 experience points. Twenty gold. Ability to bond with your spirit animal.

  Arlon handed her a list of the items she needed to gather. The map on her UI updated to show the approximate locations of these items. She noted that several of them were in the same area as the ghost sightings in the forest.

  Concerned that the area might be too tough for her, she brought up her character stats.

  Character Name: HotShari Class: Druid Level 17

  Race: Light Elf Spec: n/a Experience: 800/900

  Health: 600/600 Mana: 200/200 Attribute Pts Avail: 0

  Stamina: 11 Wisdom: 16 Charisma: 10 Life Regen: 6/sec

  Strength: 11 Intellect: 16 Dexterity: 10 Mana Regen: 2/sec