Grand Game 163: Old Friends (Patreon)

“He is a tricksy bugger, isn’t he?”

I looked up to find Bornholm studying me sadly. Ignoring the dwarf’s comment, I planted my elbows on the table, and rubbed at my temples as I tried to make sense of the sudden shift in my reality. My time in the Game numbered not days but months.

If a year has really passed—

I broke off. No. There was no point in further denials. A year had passed. I had to accept that as fact.

But what did it mean?

My biggest concern was for the dire wolves in the valley. With Erebus—and now Tartar and Loken—up to no good there, were they still safe?

And what about Saya? Was the young gnome coping with the tavern?

Ceruvax, I was sure, was alright. He had survived centuries unharmed, and there was no reason to believe he had not managed to evade capture for another year. But would he still have faith in me after all this time? I didn’t know, but it changed nothing. I still had to find the Wolf envoy, and I needed to get my third Class.

But after my tasks in this sector were done, I had to return to the valley. Or at least find out how the wolves and Saya were doing. Contacting the pack from Nexus would be impossible, but perhaps there was a chance I could reach the former alchemist apprentice. Maybe if I—

“Michael?”

I looked up to find my companions staring at me. I have them to deal with too.

Loken would not have chosen Morin as his message bearer simply because of our prior history. A year is a long time. Are they still who and what I remember? Reaching out with my will, I analyzed each of the trio in turn.

The target is Morin, a level 159 shadow druid and painted human. She is a player and bears a Mark of Greater Shadow and a Mark of Loken.

The target is Tantor, a level 154 phantom sorcerer. He is a player and bears a Mark of Major Shadow and a Mark of Loken.

The target is Bornholm, a level 153 gray berserker. He is a player and bears a Mark of Major Shadow and a Mark of Loken.

I sighed. The others’ Marks were no surprise. I'd been expecting it, but it left me wondering how far I could trust the trio. And their levels… Considering it had been a year, I found their ranks perplexing. Frowning, I tried to make sense of it.

“What is troubling you?” Morin asked.

“Your levels...” I let my voice trail off.

“We know, lad,” Bornholm said. “We outrank you, but you must remember it’s been a year.” He smiled. Of the three, he seemed the least discomforted by our changed circumstances. “Knowing you, you will catch up fast.”

I shook my head. “It’s not that you are higher leveled,” I said, “but as you say, it has been a year. Shouldn’t you be higher-ranked than you are?”

Bornholm blinked.

A moment later I felt twin ripples pass over me.

An analyze attempt by a neutral entity has failed. An analyze attempt by a neutral entity has failed.

Your deception has increased to level 58.

Both Bornholm and Morin frowned. Tantor though, did not. “He is level seventy-six,” the elf said.

Morin’s head snapped around toward her companion. “He is rank seven already? Are you sure?”

Tantor nodded.

Bornholm meanwhile was eyeing me in admiration. “How in forges did you manage to gain fifty levels—in what was it?—seven days?”

I shrugged. “It wasn’t hard,” I said modestly. Before they could think to question me further on the matter, I went on, “but I’m more curious as to why you three haven’t gained more levels than you have. Did you decide to stop leveling?”

The trio looked at each other. “You explain it to him,” Morin said, looking at Tantor.

The mage nodded and studied me. “On the contrary, Michael, we've been trying to level as hard as we can, but experience gains slow dramatically once the level gap between a player and his enemies decreases.”

I squinted askance at the elf. There was nothing unusual about the mechanics Tantor had just described, and I had experienced the effect myself. Still, it did not account for their low ranks. “That still doesn’t explain the problem. Nexus, by all accounts, is rich in dungeons. Why not find higher-leveled foes? Or are you saying there aren’t any?”

“No, that’s not it,” Tantor said. “The real issue is that there is a step change in the strength of entities of rank twenty and above, and to put it bluntly, not many have the expertise necessary to defeat such high-level foes.”

My brows crinkled, unsure that I understood what he was getting at.

“At those high levels, Michael,” Tantor said, “the Game is wholly different. As a bare minimum, you need a master-ranked Class, exceptional gear, and high-tiered abilities. But even with all that, success is not guaranteed. Talent and expertise play a big part.” He shrugged. “Only true masters of the Game make it to rank twenty.”

“Most players die before they can bridge the gap between level one-fifty and two hundred,” Morin added. “Or give up trying.”

“We’ve tried the quick route once already,” Bornholm said, tugging hard at his beard.

“The quick route?”

“Pitting ourselves a rank twenty monster,” Bornholm replied. “Suffice to say we fell far short of the mark. Our entire party wiped before we did little more than scratch the titan.”

I winced in sympathy.

“We learned our lesson quickly after that,” Tantor said. “Now, we stick to the slow and sure method.”

“Meaning entering only dungeons with creatures below rank twenty?” I asked.

“Aye,” Bornholm said. “It’s a grind for sure, but the risk is significantly less. It might take us years to get there, but one day certainly, we’ll see rank twenty.”

The others nodded in agreement.

“I think I understand,” I murmured. In light of the trio’s explanations, I better understood the player levels I’d observed in the safe zone and the dynamics at play in Nexus were becoming clearer.

But there was still much about my old companions that I was uncomfortable with.

I took another long look at the three, studying their gear intently. Tantor wore shimmering black robes embroidered with arcane insignia. His hands were gloved, but beneath them, I noticed the shape of multiple rings.

Morin was clothed in scaled storm-gray armor. It was form-fitting, and so tightly enclosed the painted woman, it appeared almost a second skin. Stowed across her back was a wooden staff, with softly glowing white sigils.

Bornholm wore thick plate armor with a greenish-white tinge to it. I didn’t recognize the material, but it was not ordinary steel. A large dwarven warhammer of the same material peeked over his shoulder.

Whatever else my former companions had become, they were certainly well equipped. And they all bore Loken’s Mark too.

“You have joined Shadow?” I asked.

Their faces solemn, the trio nodded.

“And all three of you are now Loken’s agents?”

“Do not think badly of us for it,” Morin said. “It is impossible to make your own way in the Game. It was join Loken’s faction or another’s.”

I didn't respond directly to her words. “What has the Power told you about me... and our interactions?”

Bornholm snorted. “What do you think?” he asked rhetorically. “Nothing, that’s what!” he spat. “All we know is that he stuck you in a stasis field for the better part of a year.”

Morin leaned across the table. “What happened to you, Michael?” she asked. “Why did Loken do that?”

I shrugged. “I'd rather not say.”

That silenced the trio. “You don’t trust us lad?” Bornholm asked, sounding hurt.

I held the stout dwarf’s gaze unflinchingly. “How can I? It is because of Loken that I’ve lost an entire year, and by your own admission, you three are his sworn servants.”

The dwarf bowed his head and sighed. “I understand...” He slammed his open palm flat against the table. “But by god damn, I wish things could be different.”

I nodded solemnly. “Me too.”

Another uncomfortable silence descended upon the table. Not letting it drag on too long, I turned to Morin. “What now?”

Morin’s gaze was also heavy with sadness. She too must realize that our reunion was doomed to be short, but she made no mention of that. “Did Loken’s message mention the task he requires of you?”

I nodded, my lips tightening at the reminder. Once again, it seemed that I was at the beck of a Power.

Both Bornholm and Tantor turned towards Morin, their interest piqued as well. “What task is this?” the mage asked.

Morin ignored him, keeping her gaze locked on mine. “The target is Paya. She is a minor Power in the Awakened Dead faction. You are to steal an artifact from her mansion in the Dark quarter.”

“What madness is this?” Bornholm hissed. “Loken is sending him into the Dark quarter? The boy won’t survive a day there! No offense, lad,” he said, darting me a glance before turning back to Morin. “What is his high-and-mighty thinking?”

“Deniability,” I said softly.

“What’s that?” Bornholm asked gruffly.

Tantor was nodding. “Michael has no faction allegiance. If he gets caught, Loken will not be implicated.”

“And why would his highness care about that now?” Bornholm demanded. “It has never stopped him before.”

“It's the Triumvirate,” Morin answered. “Recently, matters in the city have been spinning out of control, with faction wars spilling out into the streets at times. The knights and their patrons are cracking down. Already two Powers have been expelled from Nexus.”

I leaned forward in interest. “I’ve run across one of these knights, but I admit I’m not certain of their purpose.”

Morin turned towards me, her face grave. “The Triumvirate  are perhaps the most powerful faction in the Game. They are led by three Powers: Herat, Mydas, and Rampel. Don’t toy with them.”

I nodded, acknowledging the warning. “How did they come to be?”

“I’m not quite sure,” Morin admitted. “Their origins are shrouded in mystery, but it is clear that some long ago threat forced the Powers to band together. The Triumvirate are the remnants of that alliance.”

Some long ago threat? That could only be the ancients. I didn’t let my enlightenment show though. “And what is their purpose?”

“To maintain stability in Nexus,” Morin said. “Nexus is not named the heart of the world for nothing. If chaos overturns Nexus, every other sector will be affected. The Triumvirate knights have been entrusted by the other Powers to keep the sector from being torn apart by the factions’ perpetual infighting.” She shrugged. “As you can imagine, with all three Forces here in strength, tensions always ran high in Nexus.”

I pursed my lips. “So the knights are peacekeepers?”

Morin nodded. “In a manner of speaking. They control access into and out of the city and have the authority to expel any faction—or Power.”

“But the Triumvirate only concern themselves with the factions,” Bornholm warned. “Do not think they will look out for your own wellbeing.”

I looked at him questioningly.

“What Bornholm means is that the knights don’t care about unaffiliated players,” Tantor clarified. “If you don’t belong to a faction, you don’t fall under their protection.” The elf met my gaze. “Be careful.”

“Got it,” I said and turned back to Morin. “Tell me more of this artifact I must steal.”