Chapter 14 - Endless Crimson Rain

I'm not sure I have the words to describe how I felt, at that moment. All I know it, the floor seemed to soften beneath my feet, the room starting to swirl darkness and ooze confusion.

I don't remember moving to the table, or collapsing into the chair I was now seated in.

I don't remember drinking water from the glass I held in one gauntleted hand, only that I must have.

What I felt, at that time, was immense shock and relief, all at once - Both for the exact same reason: That I wasn't alone. That I wasn't the only one.

That this was really happening. Here. Now.

"Honestly, I'm pretty fucking surprised myself," Wolfgunblood was saying. Glass clinked, as he poured a measure of brandy into a cut-glass snifter, settling into the opposite seat. Those mismatched eyes - red, then amber - glowed with something like amusement, as he leaned back against the cushions, cradling his drink.

"I mean, it's been six months, and I never even thought there was someone else out there." He gestured to me, shoulders lifting in an expansive shrug. "Shit, just look at you. You're...What, a Paladin / Swordmaster / Exalted Templar / Occluded Knight?...Something like that, right? Kind of one-note for a build, but I'm not judging. Drink?"

He offered me the bottle, and I shook my head. "I…" I began, trying to form a coherent thought through the whirl of questions swirling through my mind.

"-I can't get drunk. I've tried." Then - "Wait, you've been here for six months?"

"Aw, yeah. Your CON's too high, probably." Wolfgunblood swigged his drink, with evident relish. "You know, I never saw the appeal of drinking before…" He waved a hand. "-Before all this. But it's starting to grow on me. Here, no-one takes you seriously if you don't drink...It's a great icebreaker. You sure you don't want any…?"

He paused, frowning slightly as he considered my next question. It was strange, almost surreal, to see this pale, haunted figure speak so casually - those Byronically handsome features positively cheerful now, alight with the glow of discovery.

"Well, about six months," he hedged, canting his head to the side. "Give or take a few weeks. You know, when I got here, a group of bandits tried to jump me?" Wolfgunblood snickered at the memory, a flash of white teeth showing in his grin. "Like, the leader was such a buttsuck. I thought it was some kind of weird limited-time event...Sort of like a dedicated server, you know?"

He swished his drink, admiring the pale amber of brandy as it swilled against the glass. "As it turned out, they'd taken this fat prick - Felippe, Philip, or some shit like that - hostage, and it was even odds whether his father would pay to get him back, or let him get his throat slit. Anyway, I dealt with them, got him back to Baron Montserrat, and…"

Wolfgunblood spread his hands. "-there you have it. That's how I got started."

I stared. Still trying to process this, as a slow smile spread across his elegant features.

"...This is so fucking awesome, isn't it?" Wolfgunblood said, leaning towards me confidentially. "How cool are we? I've done some asking around, and you know what I found? The NPCs here cap out around level thirty max. I mean, it's not completely clear - they don't really use levels here - but it's like they're down there…" A half-gloved hand slapped down on the table. "And we're all the way up here. I can't reach that high."

He eyed me, clearly intending for his enthusiasm to rub off. "How about you? Where did you turn up?"

The beginnings of a headache thundered in my ears.

"The Holy Kingdom," I said, at last. "It's been...I don't know. Less than a month, probably." The words stuck in my throat, and I swallowed hard past the lump. "Do you know what's happening over there? The beastmen...They're trying to wipe out the entire human population. Thousands are dead, maybe millions - They're killing people, eating people…"

Wolfgunblood whistled, low. "Hard core," he said. "Way hardcore. No shit?"

He didn't wait for an answer. "So, you're - what - grinding them for levels? It doesn't work that way, you know; I mean, I don't know about you, but I'm capped out. Given that you're throwing around seventh-tier magic, that makes you…"

An eyebrow lifted, expectantly. "Level hundred," I said, faintly.

"There you go. Now, I don't know if you can boost your stats that way, but it sounds like you're already maxed-out…"

I shook my head. "You understand that these are real people? You get it? This isn't a game-"

"So go do something about it," Wolfgunblood said, a flash of pique to his eyes. This time, he didn't even bother with the glass, just swigged from the bottle. "You're level hundred. Just, y'know…"

He swept his hand through the air, and a hole opened in space.

I don't have any other way to describe it. I flinched back, instinctively, as a rift yawned open in reality - A palm-sized portal, revealing only absolute darkness beyond. Wolfgunblood stuck his hand into it, frowned as he fumbled around for a moment, and pulled it back; As the shadows receded, I saw that he now held an impressive-looking tome, gold leaf gleaming against the black binding.

A flick of his wrist, and the tome opened. Pages fanned over each other, as he planted his finger at the section he was looking for. "Yeah, see...A Paladin's kind of tanky. Your HP's in, what, the high triple-digits? Stamina's sky-high, too. With your Innates and your procs, it shouldn't be a problem."

"...What was that?" I said, my eyes locked on where the rift in space had been. "What did you just do?"

His brow furrowed. "It's just the Item Box." Wolfgunblood shook his head, at my look of incomprehension. "Everyone's got one. You're seriously telling me that you've been here for a month, and you didn't even check your inventory? You just need to think 'I want something from my Item Box', and then you can-"

Holy shit, I thought. But that means-

I reached out, to the side. Carefully, as if feeling my way forward. Thinking-

I want something from my-

With a crackle, space tore. Like a tattered veil, it pulled itself apart, the air shuddering beneath my touch. It felt like my fingers were slipping beneath the surface of a clear, tranquil pool-

And then the window opened up before me, and my world changed forever.

It was...so orderly. That's what I remembered about it.

To my view, it was a simple, plain grid. Six-by-six, for a total of thirty-six slots. A tiny indicator at the corner of my vision indicated that this was the first of six tabs, in neat, tidy script.

And it was full.

The first two pages were dedicated entirely to weapons. Spears of solid crystal. Swords with blades of pure, writhing darkness. Daggers that shone like the sun. Massive axes with half-moon blades that smoldered with eldritch fire.

My eyes roved across the unfurling text, displayed in a neat, tidy flourish-

...Amatazx, Blade of Infinite Night, wielded by the Bishop of the Silent Sorrow...

...Xergunnil, the Devouring Light, wielded by the Ringed Knight…

And I thought - They're from the Platinum Spire. That's where…

Words failed me. I turned the page.

Armor. Mithril, orichalcum, adamantite - Breastplates, cuirasses, helmets, bracers, prised from the bodies of fallen angels and exalted devils. Whole or in part.

Next.

Odd trinkets - Rings, hoops, amulets, boots, cloaks. Some plain, some bejeweled, all of them heavy with unknowable enchantments.

Next.

One-half potions, the other half more weapons and baubles, shoved together in an untidy jumble.

Next-

A camping set. Fishing equipment. A mining pick. An entire portable forge. And-

I stopped, dead, as my eyes alighted on the final items.

Oh, I thought, as I felt my throat clench. Oh, Samuel-

"...You okay over there?" Wolfgunblood sounded distinctly discomfited, now. Without thinking, I waved the window away, wiping at my eyes. "I'm fine," I said, aware that my voice was a little hoarse, a little choked-up now. "I just…"

What could I say? That I had been carrying around this arsenal with me - Dozens of relics, more powerful than anything I'd seen in this world - the entire time?

I didn't know, I thought, my mind still reeling. I didn't know about any of it.

I felt acid churning in my stomach again. If I'd armed Pavel or Jozan or Heiter, they didn't need to die. They could've lived. If I'd-

"Yeah, it sucks that there's no bank access. The stuff I had in storage-" Wolfgunblood heaved a heavy sigh. "Just goes to show - You can't take it with you."

I found myself sagging back into my seat. The urge to put my head in my hands was almost irresistible. "I...I'm not sure I can deal with this," I confessed. Forced the words out. "I've been - I've seen terrible things. Done terrible things. About a week ago, I was fighting for my life against those...monsters."

My hands were beginning to shake, minutely. "It's just - I keep asking myself, 'Am I going to wake up?' and I know I'm not going to...But every time I realize this is real, it feels like-"

My voice trailed off. I bit my lip, so hard I tasted blood.

"God, I hope so," Wolfgunblood said. Solid, unwavering, like a rock. He stroked the front of his floor-length black coat, the wolf's-head charms chiming faintly. "I mean, what's the alternative? Two more years of high school, then corporate college, then a job for the rest of my life?" He held up a hand and made a meh sound, his elegant features twisting in an aquiline sneer.

"Fuck that shit. This? This is the best." He sprawled back - holding the bottle by the neck - and took another swig. It didn't seem to be having any effect on him, as he waved a beringed hand through the air.

"I mean, just look at us - Why would anyone give this up, is what I'm saying. Like, what were you doing before that was so great, eh?"

"Data entry," I said, absently, before something clicked into place. "Wait," I said, staring at him. "You said...high school. How old are you?"

Wolfgunblood stiffened. "Eighteen," he said, too quickly.

"Bullshit," I grated out. "There's no way-"

"I will be in two weeks," he said, one hand bunching into a fist. He sounded defensive, his eyes narrowing. "Look, does it matter? We're here now, and that's what…"

"You're fifteen," I breathed, the numbers coming together in my head. "Holy shit - You're a kid."

"Hey, fuck you - Who gives a shit? What are you, my dad?"

I couldn't get my mind around it. "You're just a kid-"

He gave me a flat, unfriendly look. "What's it to you? You gonna card me, Mr. 'I-don't-know-how-to-open-my-Item-Box'? What were you even doing, playing Yggdrasil? Don't you have - I dunno - a fucking spreadsheet to fill out, or something?"

Fuck, I thought. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. I was not having this argument with someone half my age, who was playing at being fucking Wolfgunblood.

Especially since it was an argument I'd lose.

There was no point in antagonizing him. Clearly, he knew more about this than I could ever hope to - And he was having a blast. But this was real; It was no fantasy, no dream that would recede upon awakening. Whatever we were before had been completely subsumed by the truth of what we were now.

"My brother-" I began, and it was somehow a relief to say it, no matter how much it hurt. "...When he heard that the game was shutting down, he killed himself. Forced a window open, threw himself off the hab." My throat felt as dry as a desert on fire, but I forged on. "This - It's his character."

I looked away. "I just...I wanted to know why. But then, I woke up here…"

Wolfgunblood subsided. Something of his pique faded, as he set the bottle down with a hollow clunk.

"-Shit," he muttered, the word hanging in the air. "That's rough."

"Yeah," I said. "-yeah."

I met his mismatched gaze, drawing a steadying breath. "The last thing I remember, I was at the top of the Platinum Spire. I just...waited out the end, I guess-"

"Wait. The Platinum Spire?" A note of awe entered Wolfgunblood's voice. "It's a fucking hundred-floor dungeon. You need, like, maximum positive Karma to get in. That, and seven Celestial Keys and seven Abyssal Shards - You know how much that shit's worth on the Auction House?"

I shook my head, uncomprehending.

"All that, and they boot you the moment you zero out. Last I heard, Touch Me was grinding Indulgences to get in, but he gave up when they posted about the shutdown."

"Wait," I said. "You're saying...Sam-" I coughed, cleared my throat. "My brother cleared the entire dungeon without dying once?"

Wolfgunblood stared at me, for a long, long time. "...Yeah," he said, at last. "Pretty much."

It must have taken him weeks - months, perhaps - to make his way through every one of the hundred floors. Fighting his way ever-upward, through demons and angels and sepulchral stone chambers and stairways and landings spiraling upwards into the heavens. Braced for the next horror to spring out at him, in the form of some friend or foe.

Upwards and onward, into the unknown. A long, lonely crusade; A final, unsung journey, even as the seconds ticked away to the end of the world.

He must have known that it was all pointless. That - even if he made it - there would be no one to bear business. That all he had ever accomplished would be scattered to the electronic winds, leaving no trace of his last odyssey.

How long? I thought, feeling my jaw clench.

How long had he been planning to kill himself?

"-id you get?" Wolfgunblood was saying something, and was looking at me like he was waiting for an answer. I blinked, forcing the guilt back down. "Sorry - My mind was wandering. Say again?"

"I said, 'What did you get'?" At my incomprehension, Wolfgunblood sighed. "It's the Platinum Spire," he said, patiently. "There's no way there wasn't some uber-reward at the end of it. So...What was it?"

Oh, I thought. For one rogue instant, I wondered how much to tell him…

-But what the hell.

"This," I said, and drew the Interfector. As if quickened by the presence of another player, the fire leapt up - A great gout of blue flame consuming the blade, billowing up almost to the ceiling in a steady burn.

"Holy shit," Wolfgunblood said, grinning like the kid he was. He stared at the writhing serpent of fire, the azure blaze reflected in his eyes. "That's the single most fucking cool thing I have ever seen."

"Really?" I'd seen flaming - and glowing - swords before. The summoned angels universally wielded them. Some of the Paladins could muster a radiance from their weapons too, in the moment before impact. I'd seen Heiter do exactly that for a few precious seconds, when he'd been grappling with the horror we'd battled in the sewers of Loyts. "You've never seen a flaming swor-"

"No, moron. A World Item." He shook his head at me like I was an idiot, which was exactly how I felt. "Shit, I've got one, and it's nowhere as cool as that."

He reached up with one gloved finger, and tapped it against his crimson eye. It rang, softly, like a glass bell - Yet somehow far more solid than that. "The Lunatic Orb, see? Traded ten Caloric Stones for it, but I got totally gypped on that deal." Wolfgunblood's hand rested on his holster - "Spent the rest on forging Bardiel and Vassago here, so it wasn't a total loss-"

"What," I said, cautiously. "-what does it do…?"

Perfect white teeth flashed, in a knowing smirk. "Wouldn't you like to know."

Not particularly, I thought, but kept it to myself. I cast around, trying to remember what I'd wanted to ask him, and the words clawed their way up through the murky confusion of my mind.

I knew, right then, that I was going to have to ease him into it.

"I just wanted to say...Thank you for seeing me. It means a lot."

"I was here anyway," Wolfgunblood said, with a negligent shrug. "You're the one who crossed a sea." He frowned - "...What's with that, anyway? You're, what, with the Paladin Order? Kind of leaning into the whole RP thing, aren't you?"

Not the best start.

Look who's talking, I thought.

You may think I didn't like Wolfgunblood, or whatever his real name was. Far from it - There was something immensely refreshing about him. Like a fresh breeze, or an eruption of color across a grey canvas. He was so ferociously present, so very much in the moment, that it was hard to dislike him.

Most of the time.

I'll admit - A little bit of him went a long way.

I stood, pacing over to the liquor cabinet. The collection within was big enough for a very exclusive bar, the shelves crowded with gleaming crystal bottles. At random, I plucked a bottle from the top shelf - leaded glass, with a pale blue liquor sloshing inside - weighing it in my hands, as I walked back to the table.

"I met them in one of the beastmen camps," I said, trying to keep my voice level. "I've been 'with' them, ever since." I poured a measure into my glass, and - after a moment's consideration - into Wolfgunblood's, when he held it out obligingly.

It tasted like mouthwash. Not even particularly good mouthwash. I had the feeling I was missing out on a lot.

Wolfgunblood, however, drank it with relish. He smacked his lips, as if it was liquid candy, and gave me a sidelong gaze. His profile was sharply handsome, like a male model or an old coin.

"You don't have to be," he said. "You could just...Y'know. Go. It's not like they could stop you."

I glanced at him as he lounged on the couch, his boots up on the armrest. Wondering, for a moment, how much of the callousness, the disinterest - the disaffected cool - was an act. He couldn't be that oblivious, could he?

But then, I remembered being fifteen.

"I could," I allowed. "But...You haven't heard the rest."

"Yeah?" His mismatched eyes gleamed, in the faint light. "-Go on."

Careful, I thought. I didn't want to scare him off.

"They say this…Shrouded Prophet...captured the Holy Queen. Calca Bessarez - Ever heard of her?"

Wolfgunblood furrowed his brow, his gaze turning inward as he considered that. "Queen Calca..." he muttered, pouting thoughtfully. Looking, for all the world, like he was contemplating who would live and who would die - He just had that kind of face.

"A bit," he allowed, looking around. "I've been busy here, and all. Getting set-up, and the like."

I drained the rest of my glass, hoping against hoping that it'd do something. It didn't.

"She's the most beautiful woman in the entire Kingdom. Ask anyone - The paladins won't lie. The Order's trying to raise an army to take the North back, and they're looking for adventurers. Specifically, Blue Roses, Red Drop...And you."

He stared. "No shit? They want my help?"

He might've tried to play it off, but there it was: the pride, the need to be acknowledged. To be affirmed, in all things.

"They mentioned you by name," I said, wondering if I was laying it on too thick. Then again, I remembered being fifteen and hormonal, too. "You said it yourself - We're level hundred. It won't even be hard." I waited for his slow nod of acknowledgement, then went on.

"You're already a legend in the Holy Kingdom, Wolfgunblood-" Somehow, I got his full name out without wincing. "-Between the two of us? We've got this war all sewn up. Lend a hand, and you'll be a hero. Hell, they'll build statues of you. You think the Holy Queen won't be grateful?"

I paused. Let that sink in.

I hadn't mentioned the blood. The violence. The bodies on stakes, and the mounds of skulls. The ninth-tier magic the Shrouded Prophet had used to break the Great Wall. I only had his interest, I knew, as long as I made it sound like an adventure. A lark.

The moment I made it real was the moment I lost him.

"How grateful?"

"Sky's the limit," I said, with a shrug. "When's the last time you got to save a Queen? If that isn't worth a reward...a royal reward...what is?"

He pouted, thoughtfully. "I don't know, man. I mean - I'm doing pretty well for myself, here…"

A negligent wave took in the gorgeous tapestries, the great frieze of plummeting angels. The borderline-tasteless opulence of the room, decorated like something a pathological gambler would've enjoyed. At second glance, there was a definite sense that this place was too clean - As if, lived-in as it was, it'd been kept pristine by the efforts of an army of servants.

I wondered how much he was paying to keep it like this. Whether he actually enjoyed it, or just considered it something to do.

"-got all the booze I can drink, all the girls I want, it's not like I'm hard up, you know-"

He was talking himself out of it, I could tell. Here goes nothing, I thought - I had to get his yes before he could change his mind.

"-You're bored, aren't you?" I asked, directly. A risk, but I had to try it. That, or I was sick of dancing around my point. Subtlety had never been my strong suit. That got his attention, at least; His head snapped up, fixing me with that steely, gimlet gaze as I went on. "You've been here for, what, five months?"

"-six-"

"Six months, then. You've been adventuring, but...Let me guess - The closest you've been to excited was when I came through that door." I leaned towards him, all friendly-like. "You're stuck in a rut. Take your own advice - Live a little."

Wolfgunblood chewed over that. His glass was empty now, his amber eye a little hazy.

"...You're serious about this, aren't you?" he asked. His boots settled on the luxuriant animal-skin rug - A rug, I realized a moment later, topped with the head of what appeared to be a giant hamster. "This whole war thing. Taking back the Holy Kingdom, and all that."

I paused. Thought about it, then nodded.

"I suppose I am," I said. "And why not? It's better than waiting around the Guild, hoping for something to happen." I swept an arm across, taking in the whole room and everything beyond it. "There's a whole world out there. Might as well start somewhere, you know?"

He wasn't sure, of course. He hemmed and he hawed, but I'd struck a chord in him, perhaps unintentionally. The truth was, I don't think I had to try very hard to convince him; Simply by virtue of being another player, I'd already got him halfway there.

Wolfgunblood, in spite of everything else, was a kid. He'd been having a grand old time, but - I suppose - he was lonely, too. Whatever airs he put on couldn't change that: In a way, he'd been constantly lying to everyone he'd ever met. That had to have worn on him, after six months alone and unsupervised.

There was something about him that struck me as oddly needy, oddly furtive. Like a child looking over his shoulder, expecting his parents to come home and punish him for not studying. In his own way, I think, he was looking for direction. It was a need, a void inside him - Something that couldn't be filled by adventuring for money he didn't need, for prizes that were worse than what he already had.

In a way, I suppose that made him an oddly pathetic figure.

But then again, aren't we all?

"All right," Wolfgunblood said, at last. "All right, I'll do it. But I want assurances." His eyes glinted, with something he probably thought was cunning.

"Go on," I said, carefully keeping that leap - that surge of triumph - from my voice. I'd done it.

"If I help you with this - Save the Kingdom, the Queen, whatever - I want your World Item."

"No," I said. I felt a lurch in my stomach, my hand dropping defensively to the sword's hilt. "Ask for anything else."

That was a mistake. His eyes - one real and one false - narrowed, a spasm of some emotion crossing his handsome features. "Those are my terms," he said, folding his arms across his chest. "Take it or leave it."

I closed my eyes, just for a moment. Tasted ash in my mouth.

"Deal," I said, and - As his eyes brightened - added "Once we've saved the Holy Kingdom, it's yours."

"That's not-"

"You've got your terms. I've got mine."

For a long, long moment, we stared at each other. I didn't realize it, not at first, but my palms were beginning to sweat. Come on, I thought. Come on, come on-

At last, Wolfgunblood relented. He let out a snort, toying with a little medallion of adamantite, on its chain around his neck. A little smile curled the corner of his mouth - lean, wolflike - as he swung his legs from the couch, and sat forward.

"Well, shit - What are we waiting for, then?"

It was late, when we descended the steps together. Outside, it was already full dark, though the Adventurer's Guild was lit by the soft glow of lamps and light-orbs. The flow of commerce had ceased at last, most of the booths closed, showing only blank wooden faces with strips of red ribbon.

Kashan was drowsing at one of the tables, his head resting on his folded arms. Next to him, a pipe smoked on its stand. I saw a half-eaten hunk of bread, the bony remains of a chicken, all the leavings of someone faced with a long wait and nothing to do but kill time.

At the far end of the hall, Gustav stood at the Job Boards, rubbing his chin as he squinted at the leaflets pinned to their scarred surfaces. He looked gloomy, enough that I could tell that things hadn't gone well. Or maybe they'd gone exactly as well as could reasonably have been expected, all things considered.

He turned at the sound of my footfalls, his expression vaguely hangdog - Like he'd been waiting for a long time, and had been disappointed ever since. Even from here, I could see his eyes widen, hear him suck in a breath as his gaze fell on Wolfgunblood.

Who, for his part, merely smiled his coolly challenging predator-smile.

"Change of plans," I said, and jerked a thumb over my shoulder.

"-He's coming with us."

Next: The Golden Ogre