(Story Event) Beyond the Mountain

The first arrow ripped through her arm, and pain exploded through her entire right side. Her staff dropped to the ground and she quickly followed, knees impacting rock as she tried to curl in over herself. She couldn't hear anything over the screaming, her screaming-

Another arrow to her other shoulder, one through her stomach. She screamed again--did she even stop?--as the pain multiplied, grew exponentially, raced like lightning throughout her veins until she couldn't remember anything. It built up, continued reverberating through her entire being, she couldn't feel anything other than heat and pain, she couldn't do anything other than scream, couldn't-

Static.

Panting, Leah ripped the headset off, ignoring the notification on her screen [You have been logged out: Pain threshold crossed] and staring down in a panic at her torso. Nothing but creases, no bloodstains, no arrow shafts sticking out of her chest. It didn't do anything to calm her down.

Tossing the headset down onto her bed, she shoved herself off it and turned back to her laptop. Work. That was what would take her mind off nearly dying. Yes, all right. Work.

(Was asked by Asch to drop out of the event to keep it 1 character/OOC account)

 

While they had come across little trouble beyond the light of day and exposed route itself, Gwyn remained on her toes with sharp eyes the occasional crack of a knuckle or steadying tug at her armor as they traveled. If the climb up the mountain's side had been refreshing then the creeping through the caves had been harrying. The ranger wasn't scared of enclosed spaces, but she was certainly wary of them. Her and @Aalam Abungu, being the rangers of their little party, had stayed in the back once the flanks of stone and snow curled around them. For all her skill in the game so far, Gwyn was aware of her weaknesses. Melee combat was most assuredly one of them.

Luckily she needn't have worried in the least. The lack of light and their collective sure footing would have carried them through if it had even been needed. The Aesirs accounted for a watch point higher up the mountain being of use, but not of anyone climbing near up to it before ducking within. The patrols inside were none in number. She almost would have preferred a fight to the uneasy nothingness. Occasionally the tunnels would sigh as wind from the entrances, exits, crevices, and cracks weaved its way through the curving halls. The colder temperature had water beading up on the stone formations and pooling in the low dips of the stone floor. The dripping had been more nerve wracking than the risk of being caught after a spell. In time the shadows were peeled away by the light of day as they emerged on the other side of the rocky slopes. "Well, I'd say that went fairly well. You all?" She spoke idly, more in an attempt to fill the silence than to actually get an answer. She didn't hang around to wait for one either.

The trip down was more dangerous in terms of actual climbing, easier to go slipping and cracking the back of your skull on unforgiving stone. It went just as easy as the way up, however. The beast tamer, though sans her beasts at present, scanned over the new land with curious eyes and a growing hunger to ignore the gathering of players below. Even moreso when she caught sight of Astor's head of golden hair. Bleh.

Whatever her own wants, the captured princess and her entourage took precedence. It wouldn't do to go wandering off to stick her nose new places and arrows in new critters while someone could feasibly be at the mercy of torture or a shallow grave. She took her sweet fucking time heading toward them though. No one seemed in any particular rush at the moment anyway so they were likely waiting on the rest of their forces. Falderen forces at that, she noticed with an aggravated sigh. Had Astorea's crowned king gone and gotten the time wrong or was it in Falderen court fashion to show up fashionably late? Either seemed like a perfectly reasonable explanation. She didn't have anything overly against them, but the whole slavery and racism thing left a right awful taste in her mouth she didn't care to go fetching more of. One didn't keep drinking a carton of soured milk now did they? No, they went to the nearest porcelain throne and afterwards frenched a bottle of listerine. Alright, so maybe Gwyn did have a something overly against them.

The blonde groaned irritably and dragged herself closer to the group, raising a hand in greeting toward @Ashiore Evretto while she headed toward the cat ears she'd recognize anywhere. It wasn't a surprise to see @Kyupin Felnya out there with them, but it was a surprise to near about catch an arrow in her eye looking that way.

A burning pain lanced through her shoulder as the next didn't miss. Gwyn jerked back with a look on confusion before it gave entirely away with a wince of pain and the baring of teeth around the high whine rising in her throat. Pain seared over her shin where leather padded pants met her right boot. She stepped back in reflex and dead into a pair of shots trying to make parallel scars across the scar already on her forehead. She turned to duck behind a cache of supplies when a crossbow bolt shattered through them in a rain of splinters and Gwyn snarled with a low noise of fury. The end of the scattered shower of arrows missed her at least, only a single stray arrow needing to be knocked into nothing by a swipe of her arm. The padding of the leather armor caught the arrowhead, but killed the momentum. With the blood running down into her left eye from the twinned shot, she was lucky she had been turned to leave her right eye tracking its arch.

As soon as the ambush had started, it ended. With the fading of the rain of arrows came the sound of the thunder. The movement of boots across ground in unison was so unlike the march of the Yladians on Castle Dormont. They had moved quieter, quicker, more at peace and in harmony with the terrain of the wilderness. These people didn't need to. They steamrolled their way forward and Gwyn didn't bother to draw her longbow. It was no trouble to see their numbers and the lack of routes through such a fight. Too many of them were severely injured by the ambush. Still more were tired from their travel through the mountain itself. The soldiers dealt with those who tried to cast and cast their own spells in turn. They were keeping them alive. Keeping them from dying, reviving, and coming back to seek their revenge. Clever, cruel, and entirely damning. The archer didn't fight when they came for her, merely stared them down with eyes like a glacier's gleam. She'd pay them back in kind in pounds of blood and flesh. It was only right. In time. In time. In time.

Gwyn could wait. She had time. Even if she couldn't draw her bow to her side and break in the new, gilded thing with her reaped right over the prey animals in armor?

She had teeth. And just like her tames, she knew well how to use them.

 

In the earlier hail of bolts, Surrechis had been some of the unlucky ones who were hit. She laid leaning on against a crate of supplies and watched in horror as the wave of soldiers were advancing on the group. Her breathing was ragged and frantic as the arrow in her abdomen made it painful to move, yet she still tried to do her best to crawl away as one of footmen made their way towards her. Being caught off guard and in a decidedly not calm state of mind, her meager attempts at retaliating using magic were cut short as the footman grabbed the arrow embedded in her and twisted. A torrent of torment added to the agonizing affliction abandoned all actions Surrechis would have taken. Her struggles ceased and she was dead to the world as the agony overwhelmed her. The last thing she would see before passing out would be the thin ring of light in the soldier's eyes as they stared right back at her, cold and uncaring.

 

And, they were through. Just like that. Truth be told, Ashiore still felt skeptical about the whole thing. But, well, princess and an expedition team to rescue! They'd deal with the agreement with the Aesir later, once they've rescued the missing people.

Thankfully it wasn't much of a journey to get to the rendezvous point. It was a very good thing too, since the paths here were even more rugged than the ones on the other side of the mountain range. Ash felt just about ready to collapse the moment that the large gathered group came into sight. Naixi, slugging about on the ground, had definitely gotten a head start on the collapsing bit.

"I'll just, uh, stay here. For a bit. By the water," she told her party, waving them onwards. Naixi eagerly started lapping at the water, and Ashiore just... took a moment. To, you know, just, not move. Oh yeah, inactivity never felt so good.

It looked like there were a fair number of people coming by. Looks like a lot of players had answered the call to save the princess. She waved at a couple of people she recognized, like @Gwyn ap Herne and @Ursa. The river was getting pretty popular as a waiting spot too, as people took a moment to cool down and refresh themselves after their journey through the mountains.

It was all so peaceful.

Which was why she didn't expect it at all when the first arrow struck. And then it wasn't one, or two, or a dozen: it was hundreds of arrows raining from the sky, a deadly shower that set everyone scrambling. Out of instinct, Ashiore reached for the tree she was resting beneath, pouring energy into it in a panic. The branches overhead shivered, then slowly expanded above to create a shield that blocked most of the arrows from the sky. "Over here!" she called, trying to make her voice heard over the chaos. Some people rushed beneath the tree with her and Naixi, and while they were here Ashiore did her best to heal up any wounds she found.

Though the living shield did help to stave off the worst of the first barrage, it didn't do anything to help when crossbow bolts began flying across. She didn't even realize what was happening until the first person she was healing took a bolt to the shoulder, pinning him against the tree trunk.

It was vicious, it was quick, and it was thorough. When the ranged barrage finally stopped, there wasn't time to gather herself or do anything significant. Ashiore struggled when a soldier came by to restrain her. That ended quickly as she was violently shoved to the ground, bashing her face against some rocks.

Somewhere, Naixi roared, but she couldn't twist around to see what was happening to her lion. 'Please let her be all right,' she thought desperately, feeling her hands get tied together behind her back and a bag shoved over her head. 'Please let everyone be all right.'

 

Eleanor became much isolated from her pair of companions, after their Aesir enemies had been defeated. With the larger Felis man heading off on his own, he had seemingly exited, and with the cleric of sorts torturing one of their enemies... The detective did her best to sidestep her, a bit intimidated by the rather gruesome display of cruelty. Opening her palm menu, the detective transitioned towards the rendezvous site.

Although the journey took more time than it would for someone more athletically competent, the detective made decent time, slipping on her sky blue, cardigan-style cloak in the meantime. Soon finding quite the scenic camp of allies within her sight, she was relieved that she had not gotten boggled in her navigation. Her view of the setting was rather serene, to the extent that part of her pondered the idea of not interrupting the wonderful view. There were people of all shapes and sizes, players and NPCs, each helping one another or dawdling about. Such diversity was a breath of fresh air, and seemed to bring new vibrant colors to the beautiful virtual world. This technology was something to admire... One day, it would no doubt change the world, Eleanor pondered.

With the sky blue cloak in her position, this also provided her with a much needed place to put her hands. Having lost her previous coat, after the Azog incident, she had been awkwardly dangling her arms about during many interactions. She was able to breathe an anxious sigh of relief, as her elbows bent, and her hands slipped into the comfort of a dangling pocket. Certainly, it is the little things in life...

As she approached, Eleanor glanced around for the arrival of others she had known. Perhaps the cleric had made her way here... Her eyes mainly scoured for Alonso, the larger man she had spoken with before, as he would be the easiest to spot if he were there... Though her eyes did not find him, though they did happen upon a friendly face! Claire seemed to be among the players present. As she opened her mouth to call out, Eleanor's thought was interrupted. A shout, and a signal towards the sky. A blanket of arrows came soaring down toward her. With wide eyes, the wonderful, artistic campsite had turned into a nightmare.

Darting towards a nearby tent, Eleanor ducked and shielded her head from the onslaught of raining projectiles. While the segment of the cloth tent that hung over her provided little protection, at the very least it served as an extra barrier between the frail arcane mage and the incoming attacks. For a few seconds, her heart rattled with fear, as arrows pierced the dirt around her. The sounds of not so lucky allies around her crying out from pain filled her ears. The sound, paired with an arrowhead grazing the back of her arm, sent a nauseous shiver through her stomach.

And in an instant, it was as though the downpour of death was finished. Carefully, she peeked from her cover, gritting her teeth and wincing as she witnessed fallen companions strewn about. These were people that battled on the same side as herself, no different than her. The only difference was that she was still breathing... Even worse to add onto that was that Claire did not seem to be anywhere in view. Eleanor feared for the safety of her friend.

Her gaze shifted towards the Falderen soldiers who marched towards them. It was these people who had attacked them. These folks who had rained death upon her allies. Such cruelty was unfathomable. Those responsible for this... She desired to see them pay for their actions. Stomping her feet with with an assertiveness the often shy girl rarely held, she approached one of the soldiers.

"The hell is going on here?" Eleanor spat, wincing angrily. Her hands reached out on either side of herself, virtual blood running down her arm from where the arrow had grazed her. In the aggressive stance, one of the soldiers took to handling her, approaching, and swiftly knocking her back with an imposed shield bash. Stumbling back, Eleanor was knocked onto one knee. Having the breath knocked out of her, she grit her teeth, "What are you doing?!"

Reaching back, she prepared to slip her red talismans from her inventory. Perhaps it as a good thing that a Falderen footman had positioned himself behind her, gripping both of her arms and halting her from accessing the weapon, as there was no way she would be able to defeat the army of men... The gruff man's fingers dug into the slice on her arm, and another soldier approached her from the front, while her arms were restrained behind her back.

Squinting, this approaching soldier noticed the arcane glow in her hand, pulling the hand up so that the palm faced upwards. Eleanor squirmed against her restrainer, as the man pulled a knife from behind himself, placing the tip of it in the detective's palm. While the pain was nowhere near lethal, it was agonizing, as he slowly began to spin the sharp object on her palm, the blade ever so subtly entering deeper into her flesh. Pain wracked her consciousness, and she had lost the will to speak up, silently begging that the nightmare would end quickly.

Unfortunately for her, the next moments seemed to drag on forever, the arcane glow eventually fading away from her hand, alongside hope, and the blood dripping from either side of her palm. Suddenly, a sack was pulled over her head, and the men began to lead her off, as well as the other players around... How the events had shifted. She would never have expected such a twist.

 

After a hard-fought battle through the Aesir camps, the party of four, composed of @Ursa the Tinkerer, @Corvella the Shieldmaiden, and @Amane Hirota the Divine Priestess finally arrived at the rendezvous point up high in the mountains of the uncharted region. So, they could relax and enjoy the scenery while waiting for their Falderen allies to regroup with the Astorean forces. Sounds good. Eldhi could appreciate all tranquil atmosphere with vibrant afternoon sun, something she couldn't enjoy in real life due to her genetic condition.

"Hmhmhm~" The Paladin was just humming a cheerful song as she sat down by the river, glancing down at her own reflection on the pristine water. "Hehe..." She really could look different here, huh? The tan that was so denied to her, graciously given to her in the game, the sun no longer burned her, she could be who she wanted to be, a chivalrous knight of justice. Truly, did Terrasphere have any flaws?

She would receive her answer soon enough...

---

"Wha-?!" As soon as the message from King Astor himself popped up in her UI, Eldhi widened her eyes as she stood up, turning around to see arrows after arrows soaring through the sky, numerous enough to blot out the sky. "Ah..." A gasp of disbelief escaped her lips as she snapped out of it, raising one hand up as she cast her barrier of light, deflecting the first initial volley of arrows. Of course, that wasn't the end of her worries as crossbow bolts followed suit, striking at the unprotected part of her body, her hastily-cast barrier could only provide so much protection as the tips pierced through her armor, embedding into her flesh.

"Aaaaaagh!!" The Paladin cried out in pain, joining with the wails, screams, and shouts of the Astorean forces. "Nnngh... hah..." She had never been in so much pain, even with the pain level set to 'Simulated', it was enough to cripple the Paladin. She could only grit her teeth as her body hunkered down, impossible, her build and abilities were tailored to tank hits for her allies, to endure them, but... this somehow felt different. "Buhck..." The white-haired girl coughed blood, her vision blurry from all the agony.

Wha-... what was going on? Did the game had a difficulty spike all of the sudden? Whoever ran this event was cruel or dickish enough to ambush the players like that, did they want to lose all their playerbase? Cause Eldhi certainly didn't like this development at all. The Paladin brandished her longsword, shakily holding the grip. Anger coursing through her, she wanted to tackle them, conquer the challenge, prove to them that with the power of everyone, they could get through this. Another part of her wanted to be done with it and just log out, as the pain jolted her again and again, the latter was winning the mental battle.

However, whatever she decided wouldn't matter as foot soldiers emerged, clad in Falderen-style armor. "Kh..." Oh... she remembered this story, this plot, the classic betrayal scenario. King Arthur suffered the same when Morgan le Fay enticed Lancelot, Mordred, and some of the Round Table Knights to rise up against the King of Knights. This was it then, they had been betrayed by the very people they wanted to help. "Heh..." She should have known, fine, let them kill her for she'd return and exact righteous vengeance upon the traitors. At least, that was her plan. Reality triumphed even the most carefully laid out schemes.

"Nnngh...!" Eldhi grunted as no less than four soldiers surrounded her, seemingly knowing the strength she held in her deceptively slim limbs. One kicked away her sword, two grabbed her hands and restrained them behind her back, tying them together, and another put a cloth bag over her head. Just before her vision was robbed away, the Paladin noticed the... cold ruthless look the soldiers had, unnaturally emotionless as if they were bewitched by a foul magic. An evil sorcerer was responsible then, truly the Morgan of Terrasphere. Such powerful mind-bending magick was possible? Those eyes, they scared her. She prayed she'd never fall into the same fate...

Unable to fight back, unable to log out, weakened and stripped of her powers, Eldhi was subjected into the classic fairy tale role she so hated, the Damsel in Distress.

 

As they'd gone through the passages, Kaede and Elysian had decided to turn back and head towards Astorea once more. Something about a bad gut feeling. Maybe it had been the alcohol finally settling in? Or the drug Kaede has slipped in. Who knew.

Kyupin had just been relieved to settle down into the clearing with other adventurers she recognized, finally setting @Cain Darlite somewhere for him to relax. Her body was sore from supporting his weight and though he'd managed to sober up a bit during their walk, she knew he needed a little... horizontal time... to fully recover.

So she'd set him down and turned around to hop over to @Gwyn ap Herne, having made eye contact with her favorite huntress when she'd arrived. It was a nice, calm resting point - a little saving checkpoint before they went off to continue their mission.

But then everything changed when the fire nation Falderen forces attacked.

The scream tore through her throat much like the arrow that clipped her heel, pain blossoming all over as she flattened herself to the ground in a pitiful attempt to make herself a smaller target. Another arrow, this time through her calf, renewed her pained cries. It hurt so much.

She could do nothing as they roughly tied her up. Where was Gwyn? Had that been Eleanor she'd seen? Her friends?! Where---

She heard his whine and reacted without thinking. Vulcan.

Kyupin started to struggle against her binding, teeth gnashing and eyes alight with a wild fury. "VULCAN!" she screamed, her voice quickly muffled by a hand to her mouth. There was no hesitation in her as she jerked around and snatched soft flesh between her teeth, ripping it. The man holding her did not cry out in pain - did not react at all, other than to backhand her and send her head careening into the tough ground.

When they put the cloth bag over her head, she could still hear the ringing in her ears, her head pounding something fierce. She whimpered but forced herself to walk as they shoved her forward on her wounded leg. Each step only made the burning in her leg more pronounced. They hadn't even removed the arrow piercing her calf as it hadn't been 'life-threatening'.

Something in her broke when the whining turned into a howl. And then it all came to an abrupt end.

Vulcan? What had they done?

Her body went numb. But underneath the ice settling in her veins, there was a rage, simmering, just waiting to explode.

 

After clearing the path, the walk to the rendezvous point was pretty much safe. Corvella helped setting few tents before making her way down in the riverside by herself, trying to get what happened with Aesirs earlier away from her mind. She was only few steps away from the tent when unusual shadows covered the area. Looking at the sky, she quickly noticed the rain of arrows striking the camp. Corvella quickly turns back and ran for her shield, with few initial shots were either deflected or absorbed by her heavy armor. Everything was a chaos; cries of pain of people struck by arrows echoing in her ears.

Finally reached her shield, Corvella would have raised it above her head to block the next volley of arrows, before bolts came flying horizontally, grazing her right in the neck.

Fresh blood starts to shoot from the open wound.

She fell into the ground on her back with both of her hands pressing against the left part of her neck, which starts spilling blood. As the pain finally starts to kick in, Corvella breathed heavily, gasping and crying for help. Unfortunately, no voice escaped from her throat. Not only that, but everyone in her vicinity were either dead or also incapacitated. The thought of switching the pain settings back or logging out did not cross her mind amidst the panic.

The terrifying sounds of bolts ripping through the air lasts for some while. The cries and shouts gradually stops, with grunting and groans taking their place. Even King Astor could not predict the ambush. Corvella realized King Astor was among their ranks, and worried for his safety as the ambush might be prepared to kill him.

Then the ambush promptly stopped. She wanted to know what happened, but even simple breathing was too painful for her, let alone turning head. "Ugh... Hahh..." Her breathing stops as figures stood around her in synchronized, almost stoic way, looking her dead in the eye. She recognized the emblem they wore as Falderen soldiers, finally reinforcement came she thought. Two soldiers pulled her from the ground and one person healed the cut on her neck until the bloodloss stopped. Still breathing heavily, Corvella tried to speak to them, before stopped by a sword cut into the thigh. She kneeled and the two soldiers tied her up, bringing her with to others. Did Falderen betray them?

 

He has survived the mountain it had been a challenging climb making sure that any lookouts didn't see them. Well, at least he hadn’t given away their position anytime during the climb either with the fact he wasn’t dressed to sneak thought snowcapped Cliffside in his hides or knocking down snow. He had expected something to happen that he would cause something to would cause them to have to double back to avoid being detected. Thankfully that didn’t happen he would have to take up lady’s Gywn offer to for those extra mountain climbing lessons even if he never tried to climb these mountains again he could put the skill to another. There might be a day he needed to scale a castle wall to fulfill an objective. It would be a useful skill to have in the least. However, they made it without anyone being the wiser it seemed that the mountain choice. Well, it seemed that the collective experience of the group had come together to make the better decision. Even though halfway through to the cliff they had to duck down into one of the tunnels to avoid a possible patrol. As far has he been concerned it was a nice change of pace from the Cliffside at least he didn’t need to watch feet placement as carefully. That and the added darkness was much appreciated at least it would give him…them a split second to put an arrow through an unsuspecting assailant. That level of alertness was proven to be unnecessary they ran into not a single Aseir that should have made him nervous, but it could have just been good luck.

They had made it to the meeting area all in one piece without incident it seem across the board all teams had made it. That was odd the Asier was supposed to be some of the most harden sea raiders on this side of the costal, but everyone made. Could we have been lucky it seemed almost silly when one looked at it but then again Terrap was only a game, and the game could have given them a pass? It was best to the good luck with the bad after all. Looking around the carven he spotted the only person that he knew the king self. Well, at least he made it would be terrible if a brand new kingdom lost its first ruler so soon. Might cause a civil war between the dukes. However, it seemed that the reinforcements from Calderon were late maybe they had a problem moving that many forces through the mountains without drawing too much attention to the activity. Well hopefully they would be here soon it was until him to relax but things seemed to be going their way for once the gods were looking at then with favor. It was nice that he did have to work on something trying to kill for a …….. Pain there was pain. A great pain that was spreading through his shoulder. His arm, why was his arm refusing to move and what that pain?

There was a bolt a crossbow bolt through his shoulder blade his blood before he could process that were was a crossbow bolt through his shoulder a second slammed into his leg taking his feet from right under him as his legs could no longer support the weight. Pain dirt and darkness and then there was screaming, where was his bow he needs to get to his bow. Crawling forward his right dragging behind him on the ground the bolt catching on every third movement he pains blossoming until he came to a boot Falderen right, soldiers help. There would be help and support they did they removed the bolts and stopped the bleeding, but then they bound his hands behind his back and shove him to his feet.

Gridding his teeth together as they lead him to the others ignoring the pain was burning through his shoulder like a furnace he wasn’t going to die, but the area was still sore. Damn it he should have been more careful, and this was the result when he didn’t pain by the gods there was so much pain.

 

The group had reached a rendezvous point with several others. It took little time to discover that no one had made any progress on the princess rescue part of this assignment. Not even Astor. How could a princess and her entire entourage vanish off the face of the earth? On top of that, all the groups were able to get here, either through threats, or force, or as the team Beretta had accompanied, struck a deal.

Closing the pane having asked several of the others what they had discovered. Of course nothing because...

Her body rested against a tree, alone so she could contemplate this scenario. While this was simply a digital construct, a game, it was still important to ensure that nothing brought the player based kingdom harm. The reasoning? Without this group, even if by some chance they were led by someone in on this illegal game... she needed the extra manpower to get anywhere here.

Eyes closed, hand firmly resting beneath her nose as she was lost in though. Astorea and Falderen working side by side, shortly after the players had betrayed them, 'fearsome' pirates that were very inviting once you got to know them, missing princess that came here, and not one of these groups found even a body or clothes? This game decided to chance it's level of realism on a whim she remembered. Sometimes it was too good, others it was extremely silly, such as the Azog.

*Thunk*

Beretta's eyes opened and shifted to something stuck in the tree next to her. A arrow? Now... now it was making sense. This was a bad time to reach this conclusion. Beretta wasted no more time as more arrows and Astor's warning came through the UI to everyone. A ambush, worse than a ambush, this would be a trap from the top. Whether from the top of the NPC or from the top of the creators was yet to be seen. Grudges are not easily forgotten even in virtual reality it seemed. Luckily dodging bullets and finding cover was something Beretta had experience with. Still a arrow rain can be a troublesome thing

Things continued to worsen until the Falderen army and the Aesir had put the gullible players, herself included, in restraints. The agent had already decided shortly after seeing the first arrow that resisting would be a bad move here. Better to simply allow oneself to be guided into a less aggressive and hazardous scenario than a ambush. Beretta had experienced previous VR jails. The fact that others had shouted their messages were not working was probably the biggest issue. Also it was the biggest clue.... yet one of them were able to log out.

The NPCs... had figured out game mechanics exist somehow? It no longer mattered anymore what the purpose of this game was. Or how good intentioned the creator may be... this was going to be a code violation and it was time to go for the jugular and just focus on pulling the plug on this with no more concerns over the 'why'. AI of this level is beyond dangerous in the wrong hands.... any hands in her opinion.

 

Stumbling over the last few steps of rocks before the nature-worn path levelled out into a plateau, after the exhausting journey Amane finally ambled into the beginnings of a camp site, a couple of steps behind her party members @Eldhi, @Corvella, and @Ursa. They had fought well against the Aesir camp — though the guilt of having killed a few of them gnawed at her, there was elation, too, at having succeeded. They've rendezvoused with the rest of the search-and-rescue team, and from here on it could only be smoother sailing. Imagine, they were going to save a princess! There was honour, and quite a fair bit of pride, at being part of an event so integral to the fate of Astorea and Falderen. Colour her vain, but it was a hallmark that she'd made it this far.

She followed Corvella as the knight started erecting a tent, doing her best to copy Corvella's movements, having no knowledge of how to set up a tent to begin with. She...thought she did okay? It didn't look too shabby, though that might be more a testament to Corvella's skills then her own. With that settled, she began meandering over to the river, having planned to join Eldhi when an incoming message from @Alonso Thorlion caught her eye. Why would the newly titled Marquis text her? It was true that they were friends, but since that one quest they had little contact with each other, save for major events that they had both participated in. This was a bit out of the blue.

Amane flicked open her palm menu with a burst of her fingers, swiping open the message. As she read through it, her footsteps slowed, before halting entirely, her expression pulling into one of mild confusion, twisting into dawning horror as full comprehension struck. The whole quest was a ruse!? Frozen, she urged her feet to move as her brain caught up with her, rushing towards Astor's location, but a few steps forwards was enough to show her the futility of her actions. She had barely moved when the King's warning tore through the air, and then she had no choice but to hit the deck, a hastily cast shield forming over her and any nearby players; a meagre defence against the rain of arrows. She pressed herself closer to the ground, squeezing her eyes shut. Stimulated pain option or no, the sight of hundreds of arrows zeroing on their location, the promise of pain on the horizon, was too much to face head on.

She couldn't tell how much time had passed, but the arrows gradually trickled to a stop, and with trepidation Amane pushed herself up to her knees, gazing at the carnage that had been wrought on the whole camp. Miraculously, she hadn't been hit, but she couldn't say the same for everyone else. A lot of people seemed like they had been at least mildly injured, and with gritted teeth the felis stumbled to her feet, a healing chant on her lips. She might be unhurt, but the battle was far from over yet. The ground vibrated with the force of a marching army, and relief washed over her, followed immediately by chilling dread. Hadn't Alonso warned her about a ruse...? This wasn't reinforcements, this was——!

A bolt smashed into her shoulder, and she cut off her spell midway with a cry of pain, a wave of fatigue washing over her from the failed spell. Before her eyes, the Falderen soldiers — supposed allies, but chances are, not any longer — formed ranks around them, caging them in. Her shoulder burned, far more than it should, and unlike per usual the agony only worsened as time passed, blinding to the point where she daren't remove the bolt, for fear of the pain it would inflict. With the weariness from the track up the mountain, coupled with the pain, she could do nothing as the Falderens herded them up and secured them, a soldier binding her wrists together with rope, paying no heed to her winces of pain as her shoulder jolted from the movement.

Fortunately, one of them had saw fit to remove the bolt, casting a weak healing spell to stem the flow of blood, though a long way from healing it properly. Glancing around as far as she could, the mage tried to pinpoint anyone she knew. Thank goodness, Eldhi seemed alright, and so did Corvella, though she couldn't see Ursa anywhere. Fervently, Amane hoped the Tinker survived the attack. A lady with long blonde hair — @Gwyn ap Herne, she recognised — shot frigid glowers as the soldiers hauled her away. Anyone else though, she couldn't recognise in the slightest.

She watched with baited breath at the commotion around Astor, turning her head away when the commander sliced open the King's mouth, treating other players who attempted to cast in the same way. They were merciless in their actions, and efficient, to boot; there would be no escaping for now. Biting her tongue, she looked at the soldier that approached, her gaze a mixture of fear, resignation, and resolute determination as he pulled a bag over her head. Robbed of her sight, there was truly nothing she could do but follow along obediently, and her helplessness grated on her, churning in her stomach with sour restlessness. Even though Alonso had tried to warn her...it was all for naught. Though, she wondered. There had been a weird outline around each soldier's eyes, and while she normally wouldn't jump to the conclusion of mind control...something was odd about the curtness in the Falderens' behaviour. At any case, something didn't seem right. She had to escape, if only to send a message back to Dormont about what had just transpired.

 

It had been a particularly uneventful journey to get to the mountain. After all, Roland and his group had practically talked their way through. Well, the group he had come with had at least, mostly shooting dagger-like glances everytime he opened his mouth. The part hadn't disappointed him as much as the lacking 'pirates' they had come across. Roland had heard various stories regarding the Aesir's lore in the game and had expected the ruffians of the high seas like the books he used to read. The merchants he had encountered were unexpected. As disappointed as he was, once he reached the camp and noted the condition others were in he became significantly less so. It seemed the fighting to get here had not been easy on the others, most of them struggling to stand. Roland made a motion to begin to prepare to create mass quantities of potions when Astor's voice called out.

Pointedly Roland tried to ignore him, despite the fact that Roland still didn't understand the full objective of being here. It was likely a ploy to destroy some new relic or uncover some disastrous plot to kill them. Despite his best attempts, Roland did pick up on something as Astor spoke, referring to Falderen ally army. "Wait, we are waiting for King Theo's army? Doesn't that guy hate us?"

As Roland spoke his answer came from above in the form of a hail of arrows. While most ducked to take cover, Roland unsheathed his blades, relying on the in-game assist feature to help him clear the skies above. Despite his guard skill, many, managed to hit their mark, eventually taking Roland down to a knee, as his body became racked with pain. Grunting in the effort he produced a small vial choking down the contents quickly, before seeing his health bar slowly rise again. As he slowly recovered he took note of the battlefield, or what he had assumed to be one. Instead, he saw the exhausted adventures, mostly quelled as a force superior in numbers moved in capturing those who still lived. Roland clicked his tongue, returning his weapons to his inventory. So far unaware of the strange happenings of the other army, he'd have no choice but to go along with the surrender, but that didn't mean he had given up hope. "The hell have you gotten us into this time, Astor...." Roland grumbled as a bag was fitted over his head.

 

Alpha was pleasantly surprised to see @Roland Rutledge soon after she had reached the rendezvous point, opting to give him a friendly wave. It seemed as if he hadn't seen her friendly greeting and she pouted, downcast. She'll just make sure to give him a nice scare later on when the time was just right and perfect. That's more fun of a 'how do you do' than typical, boring waving, after all. Alpha instead took the brief moment of respite to worm her hand away into her pocket and hold the Mist Wolf Fragment comfortably placed there. It warmed her very soul and she smiled down, content with rubbing against the crystal's case. Terry was watching over her.

It was a fine way to spend the time and, when Falderen's forces arrived, Alpha could barely contain her excitement. This is going to be so fun, she thought. She entertained herself with expectations of what would come from this spectacular union between Astorea and Falderen's forces. Maybe there would be a party! She could just imagine the delicate tastes and exploding flavors of so many dishes that she craved. Drool dripped from her open mouth, down her chin, and onto the ground. "I can't wa—"

Whoosh.

The sound of arrows piercing through wind startled her and she poked her head out from cover to find that one of the guys from the group had been pierced by dozens of arrows. There was barely enough time to react before Falderen's forces had encircled their victim and, by what she could see and hear, put him in a cycle of unadulterated pain. She gulped, ready to flee and teleport back to Vermilion's Manor for support (her best friend would definitely help out all her buddies being captured, of course) before a stabbing pain was felt on her shoulder.

Note that Alphabet Chocolate had never enjoyed pain in any sort of way. Even the muted, simulated pain could bring to tears to her eyes when she was low on health. This? Well, Alpha cried over paper cuts. She cried over bruises from tough landings. She cried over burning her hand from freshly-baked cookies. This was of another level entirely.

Alpha screamed. She screeched. She cried and wept and, as she continued to do so, men began to encircle her and she felt the pain. Again. And again. And again. And again. And so on, so forth. Incapacitated would be an understatement as she gave yet another shrill wail that could be mistaken for that of a banshee as a blade was lodged between her ribs. The wound healed and scabbed over and then was fresh once again in the matter of seconds and she could feel an unbearable pain emanate from where her beautiful rose laid.

"Don't!" she pleaded as someone had yanked some roots straight out of her head. Although Vermilion's flower was difficult to get rid of by basic means (the roots merely grew back into her head the moment they were removed), she could feel every bit of excruciating pain with each tug and each stab. "Mommy! Vermy! Rudolf! Dad!" she cried out names upon names that she knew, hoping that they would help her.

"Someone! It hurts!" she called for help. "Anyone!"

But nobody came.

 

Now, with the hindsight, the whole charade as wife, vala and a Jarl, was quite amusing. Of course even before arriving at the designated place, they had changed back into their normal clothes.

Ilusa patted her new wand, or rather rod. While its description and in-game flavour text was bit depressing, the stats it had far outstripped her first wand. Yes, the purchase put a dent in her savings, but she got an amazing bargain. It just so happened that an NPC she had once saved (and her family) just had this great occasion. For buying two pieces of light armour and the rod, she saved a great amount of money. It was a sale! And she had a feeling that this rod had powers she had not yet discovered!

She liked her new weapon, it buffed her healing. And since she, Astor and surechis were some of the first that reached the spot, Astor had to go and be a King. While she did stay close-by it was not as close as she could.

And the little faerin they travelled with slipped away, probably overwhelmed. There were people, many of them. Some faces she recognised, milling around.

The felis sighed a little. It looked like her prediction was right and the whole thing would take hours. Good thing she had prepared before-hand for that.

Never letting @Astor Balthas get out of completely from her sight, mostly because he was the only friend (..?) she had in this game that was a Player, let her notice when someone walked over to him. So perhaps she leaned bit closer and strained her ears to hear the talk. And then between one moment and the next – the man he talked with disappeared.

‘Rogue, huh?’ Perhaps she could later find that man and ask for pointers. She had been meaning to get this Mastery, but always something came up. And lately she had made great strides in deepening her understanding the Illumancy, so the realisation of gaining her next Mastery had been waylaid.

It was partly the fault of her fascination with the light magic; it was not something that existed in real life, while the Rogue-elements she had partook in. She played the game to experience something different! But she was also practical enough to know that the Rogue Mastery will help her.

She just could not find the time to spend on it, not when her time in the game world was limited and the magic was so fascinating.

Just when she decided to go and talk with Astor, a peculiar sound reached her ears and then most unwelcome sight entered her eyes. An arrow. And judging by the sounds reaching her ears, it was followed by more of them.

Then, it was almost like real life. With the realisation slamming into her, with her eyes widening, fur standing up along with the hair on her neck, ears flattening the time seemed as if it slowed down. Her hand in slow-motion clenched then unclenched, as if in slow motion, she ran. Subconsciously her hand moved to reach gun that she did not have and then saw, in slow motion how the arrows hit Players and Non-Players. And there was a hot, stabbing pain hitting her.

Her shoulder.
Her back.
Her tail.
Her arm.
Her hand.

Her health-bar was getting hit. Yet no hit dealt to her was critical. For moment, the sounds of arrows hitting targets and everything turned to the sound of gunfire. Then the gunfire changed, into heavier calibre; that is the arrows were replaced with bolts.

It was a chaos. An ambush, but more than that, it was well organised ambush and they knew their position from the start. A traitor? A trap? By whom? And why? Those thoughts went through her mind ash she slid under a wagon, thunk, thunk of bolts piercing the wood accompanied her as she did so. She immediately crawled out from underneath it, bolts hitting the earth when she had been. Her eyes searched for a cover, when the rain stopped.

But she did not relax, no.

And as the ground shook, vibration of army incoming, she got a very, very bad feeling.

Her eyes took in their numbers, her mind calculated the trajectory of the bolts and arrows she had seen flying and a very, very grim realisation was setting in her mind. ‘Fuck. Shit damn it! Pizda rulyu!’ Cussing in her head, she glanced at their numbers; no one was dying, but the health of most had been dwindled quite significantly, and the sheer difference in numbers was bad. When someone shouted and waved at the army, Ilusa concentrated on the nearest soldier to see the colour of their name next events made quite clear what the situation was.

A sound of bolt releasing. A critical strike. A cleric healing the downed Player… Yes the situation was bad. Especially as the attack on them started, the overwhelming numbers were not something they could deal with.

They tried. Oh, they did. Some more than others. Some better than others.

But the opponent was a well oiled machine, an army, almost mechanical in their movements, whereas they were a hastily put together individuals that had been weakened by the ambush. Some formed parties where they worked well, but it was not enough. It was a good thing that she took the time to learn the spells (to be honest learning them during her work-outs was a great way to focus), as she did not make use of her palm menu but kept casting. And casting. Healing. Those nearest her. But they must have had detailed information and they took out the heaviest hitters first, dwindling their opposition down.

Astor had been captured, she saw it and the next moment two knights reached her, one reaching to grab and yank the arrow from her shoulder, the other stabbing his sword through her thigh, the sword going through her armour like butter. A gasp of pain left her and she glared at the man; but that gave her a pause, enough for the other knight to grab her hands and start prying the rod off her hand.

She paused, because the look in the soldier eyes was not normal. It was not zealotry that was pushing him. Nor was it patriotism. It was, it reminded the most of the drugged guerrilla she had to fight once, only even they, were more alive.

The eyes had a ring of light around them. It was thin, barely visible. It was unnatural. A shudder went through her that had nothing to do with the sword to the gut (pulled out from her thigh) and her hold on the weapon slackened and it was taken out. ‘Noo! I just got it!’

“No! Aa-!” She was cut once more and she let her tears flow, sobbing and whimpering. It was mainly for show. It hurt. Yes. It hurt a lot, but this pain, it was nothing compared to what she had felt and the real life was starting to bleed into the game for her.

She was caught. They all were. Some just simply had not been caught yet. She was rather near the King but elsewhere there were still sounds of fighting going on. Further away from her place.

And what was most peculiar was the way they had bound every one of them close to them. Their hands could not make fist, could not open the menu. And even she, whose menu was open, could not move fingers to operate it.

To her that, was far more worrying than them being ambushed and trapped (it was after all only a game, just a game). Now caught, helpless, kept above death but low on health, she looked. Watched. Committed every little thing to her memory.

She was now a soldier caught by the enemy, her mind fell onto training and experience. She categorised the state of the other Players and Non-Players, the men and women of various ages and races, some more familiar than the others.