Black Sun (Phantom Server: Book #3) (10 page)

“
Nowr
.”

“But why?”

“I haven’t done my duty yet. I can’t go back. Let’s change the subject.”

“All right. I’m not forcing you. But one day you’ll have to tell us.”

Charon lowered his head. “Where are we going now?” he gasped hotly.

“There’s a ford across the river nearby and a village next to it,” Arbido said. “We need to check it. You never know, there might be survivors there. Besides, Foggs and Jurgen know this area so they’re sure to head for the ford. You just can’t miss it.”

* * *

The battle had been impressive. When we turned a bend in the river, we saw row after row of sharpened stakes set into the shallows, their tips facing the water. I just didn’t understand anything anymore. It looked like the mysterious riders had attacked the village at full tilt, otherwise how does one explain the dead horses still impaled on the stakes? Did that mean the riders could gallop on water?

The little village by the ford had been burned down. The ford, too, was gone, replaced by a fast torrent, deep and dark. Someone must have used some very powerful spells here in order to deepen the river bed. The local defenders had spared neither lives nor effort in stopping the yet-unknown danger that had descended on them from the opposite bank.

Arbido looked completely lost. The sight of the burned-down village seemed to have disheartened him.

“Zander!” Charon growled. “Look!”

Two people walked along the bank. They were still too far for us to make out their faces.

“That’s Jurgen and Foggs,” Charon said confidently.

Soon I recognized them too. They looked tired. Their clothes and gear were mismatched.

“This machine has quite some range,” Jurgen wiped the sweat from his forehead. The day was hot and virtually windless. “We’d walked a couple of miles at least,” he perched himself on a hillock. “It’s the same everywhere. Vultures and dead bodies. It looks as if a whole army came through here from the other bank. They forded the river in full stride. Lots of dead horses are lying around. Over there,” he pointed, “they met with some resistance put up by archers and wizards. But the wizards were no good. All they did was burn all the undergrowth.”

“Have you seen any of the attackers’ bodies?” I asked.

Jurgen shook his head. “No. Those who defended the river bank were regular players, no doubt about that. A rather motley bunch, very badly organized. But who on earth could have attacked them, I’ve no idea.”

“NPCs, who do you think,” Foggs said confidently. “I just don’t understand why they kept coming from the opposite bank. There’s nothing there, only the forest and some cliffs. That’s where the location ends.”

“And that’s where the Corporation testing grounds start,” Arbido added. “The trail I told you about, it starts among the cliffs.”

That was a surprise. Could this mean that the source of the invasion lay within the testing grounds?

The river was wide. I couldn’t see much on its far bank. It was shrouded in a gray mist that crept toward the water’s edge.

“We shouldn’t go there blindly,” I said. “First we should try to find out what happened.”

“There’s nobody around!” Arbido said. “Who do you want to ask? Even the looters legged it the moment they saw our Charon.”

“I have an idea. Come with me.”

* * *

I noticed my old friend from afar. Forrest the Forest Sprite was busy skirting a deep crater that had formed on the site of an evaporated marsh. He looked bewildered and distraught.

“Those bastards!” he groaned as he walked. “Why would you destroy something this good?”

By
good
he meant the tangle of old gnarly driftwood covered with moss which used to be his home. Forrest — which was the name we’d given to this grumbling but rather harmless NPC — used to hide here from some of the more forward players that craved a quick bit of leveling. The game developers had messed up his settings somehow, allowing newb players to smoke him three times, every time receiving a nice (for a start-up location) bit of XP for his trouble.

“A talking plant?” Charon looked puzzled.

“Who are you calling a talking plant?” Forrest snapped. He had excellent hearing. “That’s a bit rich, coming from a talking lizard! Quit staring! Even better, go your own way! I have things to do. Or... do you think you could help me? Listen, Lizard, think you could bring me a few broken branches from the woods?” Forrest wearily perched himself on a hillock on the opposite side of the crater, casting wary glances at Charon. “You could also bring some water from the river to fill this in,” he added. “What, so you’re not interested in doing social work, are you? How typical. Everybody’s happy to smoke an old man. But once he needs a bit of help, there’s never anyone around!”

Completely confused, Charon shook his head, then forwarded me a screenshot of his interface. “Zander, please translate this. I don’t understand it.”

No wonder. Why would the Haash know our language? The Dargian semantic processor wasn’t much help here.

Curious, I hurried to read.

Quest alert! New quest available: Help the Forest Sprite

The marsh which used to be Forrest’s habitat has dried out as a result of the battle. Bring some gnarly branches from the forest and fetch some water from the river to rebuild his home.

Reward: 100 pt. Experience and a Rusty Sword.

PS. Personally from Forrest:

If you fill the crater one-third or more, I’ll share with you my Happy Days neurogram.

Neurogram description: the scent of swamp mud, the aroma of the woods, the taste of stagnant water and a touch of warm sunshine.

PPS. If you manage to fetch thirty gnarly branches, I’ll throw in some mushroom smells and a neurogram of peace and tranquility.

My blood ran cold. Arbido, Jurgen and Foggs froze too as they read the quest specifications.

A low-level Crystal Sphere NPC dealing in neurograms on the side?

“And?” Forrest creaked his gnarly joints to look more miserable. “Will you do it, son?”

Charon sniffed in confusion.

Forrest kept casting wary glances at me filled with hungry anticipation. I didn’t like it. He was apparently sizing me up as a potential opponent.

“Hi Forrest,” I said, trying to defuse the atmosphere. “Don’t you recognize me?”

“Do I have to? There’re too many of you coming here, and you all look the same. Everybody’s happy to smoke old Forrest. But when it comes to fetching a bit of water-“

“Hey, come on, quit creaking. Better tell us what happened here.”

“Yeah right. As if you don’t know! Or... have you come from afar? I don’t recognize the gear your lizard is wearing,” he cast another wary glance at Charon in his onboard suit, then backed off a little just in case.

His speech sounded strange. He seemed to have picked up some gaming slang somewhere. Also, he was sort of jittery. We really should put the heat on him and question him properly. Or... wouldn’t it be easier to just fetch him some branches?

I motioned Foggs and Jurgen to flank the old man. I just didn’t like the whole situation.

“So that’s how it is, then?” Forrest yelled, noticing the danger. Immediately the earth parted, sending up new shoots which tried to entangle our feet. Still, the debuff didn’t work.

“Forrest, wait! All I need is to talk! No one’s going to touch you, I promise! Just tell us what happened here, then we’ll part ways.”

The creature cast an evil look around. “So it’s five against one, is it?”

“We’re not touching you!”

“I see. You want the neurograms?” he assumed a combat stance.

“No! We need to talk, that’s all!”

The thorny shoots managed to ensnare my leg, the thorns sinking deep into my skin. It hurt. I had to use one of the scrolls as a warning. The clingy growth crumbled to dust.

Forrest panicked. “All right, all right, ask me already!”

He'd always been afraid of fire. Newb wizards loved nothing better than use him for fire practice, forcing him more than once to duck into his swamp to put out smoldering flakes of his bark-like skin.

“Who was fighting here and with whom?”

“Yeah right! As if you don’t know! The Neuros were defending their lands here, is that clear enough? Only how did they want to overcome the Reapers? It was so scary! So scary! Flames rose high in the sky! The river turned to ice! Riders galloping right across as if it were firm ground! Those cack-handed wizards, they fired a sky stone right into my swamp! It was so, so scary,” he whimpered. “The Warbler, our sweet river, boiled in places and froze in others!”

“Slow down,” Foggs interrupted him, puzzled. Who are the Neuros?”

“Quit playing dumb,” Forrest twisted his creaky torso and pointed his gnarly arm at me. “Look at him, isn’t he a Neuro?”

“By Neuros he probably means players,” Arbido suggested.

“Looks like it,” I agreed.

“Those Neuros, are they the ones with neurograms?” Jurgen specified.

“That’s right!” Forrest nodded enthusiastically. “The Reapers didn’t kill them at once. First they sucked out their neurograms. The screams — my blood still curdles when I remember!”

“And you, where did you get those neurograms from?” Arbido asked matter-of-factly.

“Don’t you know? We had a Holy Update! It affected everyone who wasn’t a Neuro.”

“When did that happen?” Arbido kept pressing him.

“A couple of days before the battle!” Forrest kept casting glances my way. “I received those smells. And the tranquility. And the taste of swamp water.”

“And those Reapers, did they come from afar?” I asked. This story and the looters’ conversation we’d overheard earlier suggested that this might have been a glitch at the testing grounds.

“From the other bank,” Forrest confirmed my suspicion. “No idea how far. I’m too scared to go there. They might take the neurograms away from me. I need them. I really need them. I can’t survive without warmth and sunshine!”

“The weather seems okay,” Foggs tried to reassure him. “Why are you scared of cold in the middle of summer?”

“You
are
stupid, aren’t you?” Forrest snapped back. “You may be a Neuro but you aren’t that bright! The Reapers said clearly: we are entering the era of the Black Sun!” he stopped short, noticing Charon startle.

“Say it again!” Charon bellowed, so that even I jumped.

“Black... Black Sun,” Forrest shrank. “That’s what they said. There’ll be no sunshine anymore. Cold and darkness will rule for eternity. But those who collect enough neurograms might be able to occasionally remember the old times and warm themselves with the memory. What times are we living in! Will this place really freeze over? If I could only get some branches and fetch a bit of water... while the sun’s still shining... I have to do it... I have to make it...”

“Was it the Reapers who told you that?” Jurgen asked. “Who the hell are they?”

“I’ve no idea who they are or where they came from. They kill Neuros where they see them. But they don’t touch us locals yet.”

My head span with his confused explanations. A recent update? Which had apparently granted NPCs the ability of sensory perception? Then some monsters had arrived from the Corporation’s testing grounds and started slaying players?

“They told us to catch whatever Neuros we could find and throw them down the wells. For doing this, they promised us a reward: neurograms. They said, whatever neurograms we managed to stock up on now, would have to last us for eternity. That’s something I don’t understand. It’s something new. And scary.”

He began to ramble, mumbling and creaking, as we stepped aside for a talk.

Charon was shaking.

“Charon, you sure you’re all right?” Arbido asked, anxious.

“The Black Sun!” he finally uttered. “Your world will die as did ours!”

His eyes filled with desperate fear. I tried to make him tell us more about it but he didn’t make sense. He hunched up and fell silent.

“Leave him alone,” Jurgen came to his defense. “Let him calm down a bit, then he’ll tell us,” he paused, then announced, “We need to go to the testing grounds. The answers are there.”

“I agree,” Foggs said.

“Should we maybe try and find out more about these Reapers?” Arbido offered tentatively. “I’m pretty sure those looters are still hiding somewhere around.”

“We’ll only waste time,” Jurgen said. “I suggest we cross over and see for ourselves.”

I nodded. But when I glanced at Charon and Forrest who’d perched himself next to him I realized we needed a breather. It’s not that we were going to waste much time. We could always make up for it later.

“Don’t you worry so, poor soul,” the old NPC creaked in an attempt to comfort Charon. “The sun’s still out, isn’t it? No need to get so pale. They might be telling us fibs, the lying bastards. I know, I know that you lizards need to stay warm to survive.”