Empyrean Interlude 004: A Heist in the Making (Patreon)
Content
Describing exactly what Adalinda was to Alon took longer than expected—in no small part because I wasn’t entirely sure myself. The explanation turned out to be long-winded, with frequent pauses while I consulted with Adalinda to fill in the gaps in my understanding.
“So, let me see if I’ve got this right,” Alon said when I was done. He pointed to the fire lizard that had maneuvered her way into my lap after I sat down on Soren’s bed. “That is your companion, Adalinda?”
I didn’t answer immediately, glancing at my brother for what felt like the hundredth time since Alon’s entrance. Soren hadn’t stirred once since the morning, and despite my best efforts to suppress my worry, my anxiety was mounting over his condition.
Not even my transformation into a player, Adalinda’s appearance, or Alon’s visit had elicited a response from Soren. His brief awakening earlier must have exhausted him too much. That has to be it, I told myself firmly. That’s all it is. Nothing more.
I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment. Don’t stop fighting, brother, I begged. Please. Finally wrenching my thoughts away from Soren, I turned back to Alon. “Correct,” I answered.
“But you say she is not really a fire lizard,” Alon continued, his tone reeking of skepticism. “She’s just taken the form of one.”
I didn’t look up from the fire lizard curled in my lap. She was sleeping now, seemingly still not recovered from the effects of our spirit binding. It had only been a few hours since our introduction, but already I found her presence comforting. She really is beautiful, I thought, stroking her back idly. “True again,” I said to Alon.
We had circled back to the point we’d been belaboring for the last hour. Alon was struggling to grasp that Adalinda wasn’t actually a fire lizard; truthfully, it was something I’d trouble comprehending myself.
From Adalinda’s somewhat garbled explanation, I understood that celestials had no true body but could only take corporeal form through a Class ability unique to celestial companions. But when I’d pressed her for details on the ability, it was not my companion that had answered but the Adjudicator.
It seemed the Game would provide me with an explanation of any ability my companion or I possessed. I queried the Adjudicator on the spell once more, and obligingly he wrote a description of it across my mind again.
Manifest is an activated ability that allows your celestial companion to swap between its physical and spirit forms at will. The body type that your companion can assume is determined by their own innate nature and the tier of their Class ability. Each body may have special traits that will only apply when your celestial is in that form. Note, while manifested, your celestial companion can be killed.
This ability consumes psi and can be upgraded with Class points. Its activation time is average. This is a Class ability and does not occupy any attribute slots.
I understood only half of what the Game reported on the ability, but that half was fascinating enough on its own.
“And when she is not a lizard, where is she?” Alon pressed, unaware of my musings.
“She resides within me,” I said. “As a spirit.”
“Right,” he muttered. “That makes perfect sense,” he said in a tone that implied the exact opposite.
“Enough about Adalinda now,” I said, tiring of the conversation. “It’s sufficient to know she is bonded to me and can be trusted. Implicitly. Will you tell me now what you found out?”
Alon deflated slightly and sat down on the floor. “The news isn’t good,” he warned.
I stamped my foot. “Tell me,” I demanded.
Alon sighed. “I’ve asked around, just like we agreed. There is a nether portal in the city, and from what I’ve learned, it leads to at least three different dungeon sectors. But the portal entrance is defended around the clock by dawnguard units. Not even regular players are allowed through. Only Arinna’s followers.” He met my gaze. “I’m sorry, Elana, but there is no way to sneak past the soldiers.”
My heart sank, but I refused to give up. “How many guards?”
“Two squads. Always.”
I winced. Alon was right. There would be no getting past that many soldiers, especially if they were members of the dawnguard, the pre-eminent prole force in the goddess’ army. “What about bribing them?”
Alon laughed bleakly. “With what? We’ve spent nearly every penny we had on the healer. And with that many guards? We would have to bribe all of them.” He shook his head. “It’s not an option.”
He was right again. I set Adalinda down on the bed and rose to my feet. “Then how do I get into the dungeon?”
“You don’t,” Alon said, staring unflinchingly into my eyes.
I folded my arms. “I’m not giving up,” I said through gritted teeth. “If I have to fight my way—”
“There may be another way,” Alon said abruptly.
I closed my mouth with a snap and leaned forward intently. “How?”
He hesitated. “You remember that robbery? The one I told you of about a week back?”
I frowned, trying to recall. “The one where the faction warehouses were raided?”
Alon nodded. “That’s the one.”
“How does that help us?” I asked, my frown deepening. “I thought you said it was a rival faction that was responsible. Whoever pulled off that heist is long gone by now.”
Alon shook his head. “Everyone thought it was players from another faction, but everyone was wrong. It turns out a local gang stole the goods.” He paused. “One from the slums.”
I chewed on my bottom lip. “Why would proles steal Game-crafted items?”
“I don’t know,” Alon said. “But today, the goddess’ spies uncovered the location of the goods. They know where the gang is keeping the loot, and orders came through today. Four army companies will hit the gang’s hideout tomorrow—my own included.”
I nodded slowly, no longer doubting Alon’s information. “I still don’t understand how that helps us.”
Alon didn’t answer immediately. He rubbed his palms together. Such uncertainty was quite unlike him, and I wondered at its cause.
“I checked the manifest,” he said. “Amongst the stolen items was a cache of potions.”
My eyes widened, finally realizing where Alon was going with this. “Potions? As in cure disease potions?”
Alon smiled, some of my excitement rubbing off on him. “A crate containing one hundred stoppered stone vials was listed in the inventory. It did not detail what potions the vials contained—” he shrugged—“but I figured at least a few of them have to be cure disease ones. Right?”
I nodded vigorously. “I agree. And even if there are no cure disease potions, there should be health potions. At the very least, those should give us more time to find a cure for Soren.”
Alon nodded. “That’s what I thought too.”
I frowned. “But after all this time, are you sure the potions haven’t been used? I can’t see any gang letting a resource like that go unused.”
Alon smiled crookedly. “Have you forgotten already? The potions are in unmarked stone vials, and us proles have no way of identifying Game items.” Although he said the words lightly, there was an undertone of bitterness to his voice.
My lips turned down, and I squeezed Alon’s hand comfortingly. “Sorry. That was stupid of me.” I paused. “So, what’s the plan?”
Alon licked his lips in another display of nerves. “If we approach the gang, we can trade for the potion.”
“Hmm. I get what we get from the deal, but what can we offer the gang in return?”
“You.”
I blinked at him, not following.
Alon stared at me. “Only you, Elana, can identify the rest of the booty for them. You know as well as I do that the chances of any other player deigning to enter the slums are non-existent. Only you can help them. They get to keep all the other loot, and in exchange, we get one cure disease dose.”
I began pacing while I worked through Alon’s scheme. It was a good plan, I realized. No, more than that, it was a brilliant plan. The gang would profit far more from the deal than we did, and there was no reason for them to reject our proposal. Of course, it would mean revealing my identity as a player, but that was not a secret I could keep for any length of time anyway. “Which gang is it?” I asked absently.
“The Devils.”
I whipped around to stare at Alon to see if he was joking.
He wasn’t. The axeman appeared deadly serious.
“The Devils, Alon? Are you insane? You know they won’t deal with us.”
Unlike other street gangs, the Devils didn’t have the slightest shred of decency. The gang was nothing more than brutes, rapists, and murderers of the vilest kind. They preyed on whomever they wished, even the poorest and most vulnerable of the slums. Anyone not part of their unholy club was fair game.
Years ago, the Devils had tried recruiting Soren and Alon. The duo had refused their overtures, of course. That had not gone down well with the Devils, and to this day, all three of us walked warily anywhere near their territory.
“What other choice do we have, Elena?” Alon asked quietly. “I’ll approach them with our offer, and if all goes well, we’ll insist the trade be made on neutral ground.”
“No, Alon,” I said fiercely. “The moment you set foot in Devil territory, you’re a dead man.”
The youth opened his mouth to protest, but I overrode him. “I will not trade the life of one brother for another,” I snapped. Alon and I might not share any blood, but in every other sense that mattered, we were siblings.
The axeman did not argue further; he was no more keen on this aspect of the plan than I was. His shoulders sagging, he asked, “Then what do we do?”
I fell silent for a moment, thinking. “The only thing we can do,” I said at last. “We break-in.”
~~~
Alon and I spent the next few hours planning our robbery. Given the impending raid by the goddess’ soldiers tomorrow, we had no choice but to execute our heist tonight.
Luckily, we were both more than passing familiar with the Devils’ territory and their many hideouts.
“What do we do about Soren?” Alon asked.
I glanced at my sweat-soaked brother. He’d woken briefly during our hurried conference but had been unaware of his surroundings, and suddenly I was sure he would not last the week. I prayed he survived the night.
“He will have to see out the night alone,” I replied. “If all goes well, we will only be a few hours.” I shrugged fatalistically. “If it doesn’t, it won’t matter either way.”
Alon nodded. “I wish you would let me do this alone, though.”
I ignored him. We’d been over this multiple times already. If we were going to break into the hideout of one of the biggest gangs in the slums, he would need my help. “Are you ready?”
Alon had changed, replacing his non-descript everyday work clothes with the white and red striped garb of the city watch. He hadn’t told me where he had gotten the uniform, and I’d carefully not asked.
My gaze flickered over my friend. Alon was wearing chainmail armor under his uniform. He had pulled back his blonde hair to hide it beneath the coif covering his head.
He’d abandoned his battleaxe, too, in favor of the baton and shield carried by the city guards. To my mind, at least, Alon looked every inch like one of the city’s hated and despised watchmen.
“I am,” Alon said. He took in my own dark-clad clothing. “Are you?”
I had also changed, swapping out my usual attire for a form-fitting black outfit that included soft black leather boots, gloves, and a face mask that revealed only my eyes. This was not the first robbery the three of us—two, I amended—had conducted, but it was the first we planned on executing in the slums itself.
Bending my head downwards, I ran my hands along my arms, making certain my daggers were securely fastened about my forearms. The moment my fingers touched the leather-wrapped hilt of the blades, the Adjudicator sent me the same message he had earlier.
You do not have the necessary skill, daggers, to use this weapon. None of the Game-gifted benefits and abilities pertaining to this item are available for your use.
I ignored the message. The warning was getting tiresome.
The first time I had seen it, I’d been alarmed. But after reading it and parsing its meaning multiple times, I’d concluded the message to be of little consequence.
I did not need Game-gifted knowledge to wield my daggers. They were as familiar to me as Alon and Soren. My skill with them was hard-won and had been attained through years of practice under the tutelage of first my parents, then Soren.
“I’m ready,” I said. I wore no padding beneath my clothing. Armor would only slow me down. Speed had always been my greatest asset in a fight, and I was not about to sacrifice it now.
I was equipped as lightly as possible, and other than for my daggers, the only other piece of gear I carried was a small pack strapped across my back to hold the potions.
“And your... companion?” Alon asked.
I tapped my chest. Safely stowed and ready.”
“Then let’s be about it,” he said.