Grand Game 507: Blind Drop

I stared at the garment sitting on the table but made no move to take it, admittedly more than a little surprised by how easily Kesh was offering up one of the emporium’s famed red robes. 

“That’s it? You’re just giving it to me? With no strings attached?”

“I trust Safyre to use it wisely,” Kesh said simply. “She understands the danger, not just to me, but her fellows in the emporium if she misuses them.” She paused. “Besides, the robes come with their own ‘strings,’ so to speak.”

I frowned. “What does that mean?”

She gestured at the package on the table. “Go on, take it. I’ve unshielded the robes’ properties so you can see for yourself.”

Still frowning, I stretched out my hand.

You have acquired a set of emporium robes. This item is a rank 12 artifact created by the Power Herat and has been designed to shield its user from attacks and conceal their identity. It has no minimum requirements to equip. 

Warning: a location beacon has been concealed in this artifact. It will automatically activate if the user suffers any damage or on request by the item’s creator. 

I pursed my lips. “Urgh. It has a locator beacon.”

“Yes, that strictly limits the item’s use.” Kesh paused. “It should not bear mentioning but I’ll say it anyway: don’t take the robes to your hidden base.”

“I won’t,” I murmured, still unhappily studying the robes in my hands. “Safyre didn’t mention the beacon.”

“She doesn’t know about it.”

I looked up in surprise.

“None of my agents do,” Kesh continued. She smiled thinly. “In fact, I’m fairly certain that the Triumvirate never intended I find out either.”

I blinked. “Then how…?”

She laughed. “Like you said, I’ve lived a long life. Not all of it has been spent frivolously. I’ve managed to acquire a few tricks of my own along the way.”

“I see.” Turning back to the robes, I wondered how to factor this latest wrinkle into my plans. I couldn’t take the thing back to the nether-infested sector. I would have to store it elsewhere, somewhere that wouldn’t surprise the Triumvirate—if they ever thought to look—and somewhere Safyre could easily reach.

“Tell Safyre not to return to Nexus,” Kesh said.

My brows furrowed. “You don’t want her to come here?” I raised the robes. “Then why give me this?”

“Safyre will need it to visit the emporium vaults. Don’t ask me where that is, the location is secret, but Safyre knows. I will arrange for the other forsworn to rotate through the vaults in the coming days so she can speak to them there. Safyre can also collect your purchases while she’s there.” She glanced at me sidelong. “Assuming you’ve managed to arrange payment before then, of course.”

I nodded in understanding. Kesh might be willing to help us, but she still had a business to run. “You’ll have your money,” I promised. I paused, struck by another thought. “In fact, I can fetch it right now if you allow me to wear the robes.”

Kesh frowned.

“Just this one time,” I added hastily. “And only to get past the safe zone’s wards.” If the robes could hide Safyre’s forsworn Mark, they would just as easily conceal my Power Mark from the detection spells the Triumvirate had placed around the safe zone walls and gatehouses.

The old merchant sighed. “Alright, I’ll make an exception.” She threw me a stern look. “But just this once.”

I bowed my head. “Thank you.”

“You’ll be taking your companion with you?”

She meant Shael. “Yes…” As tempting as the idea of leaving him behind was, that wouldn’t do. For all his faults, the bard was a savvy operator and knew his way around the Game and its players, more so than any of my other companions. If he was going to be a full-fledged member of the Forerunners, I had to use every opportunity to learn his strengths—and weaknesses.

Kesh nodded. “I’ll reach out to Loken in the interim. It should not take long to get an answer.”

I rose to my feet. “Then I best be on my way.”

✵ ✵ ✵

You have equipped a set of the emporium robes, concealing your identity. 

Before exiting Kesh’s office, I put on the red garment, transforming myself into just one another faceless emporium agent, and as I left the compound, none of Kesh’s employees gave me a second glance, not even the two at the gate.

“Come with me, Shael,” I whispered to the bard slouched against the compound’s outer wall as I strode past.

“Thanks for the offer, friend,” he began. “But I’m—” 

Breaking off, he threw me a sharp look, no doubt finally recognizing my voice, before his gaze flicked to the two giants watching us. “Whatever you wish, friend,” he said, starting again. Keeping pace beside me, he waited until we were out of earshot before speaking again. “Michael?”

“The one and the same,” I whispered back.

“How did you get those robes?” he hissed. “Please don’t tell me you stole them.”

“Of course, I didn’t steal them. And the how is unimportant.”

“Alright, what about the why?”

“I’ve got to leave the safe zone, and I prefer my identity not to be revealed,” I replied. 

Which was true enough. 

I was fairly certain that the spells embedded in the safe zone exits—like those in the banks—were powerful enough to see through my mimic spell and detect my Power Mark. And while I was not a criminal in Nexus—yet—I wanted to avoid the attention my Mark’s revelation would bring.

“Worried about Loken, are you?” Shael asked, throwing me a shrewd look.

“You could say that,” I murmured.

The half-elf sighed. “Are we still on your—what did you call it? —‘short stop?’”

“No,” I admitted. “This is another detour, but it’s the last one, I promise. We just need to fetch something.”

Shael didn’t say anything, but I could sense his unhappiness. Still, I only needed him to be patient for a little longer, then he’d learn the truth about everything.

✵ ✵ ✵

You have left a safe zone.

We passed through the south gate with only a cursory nod from the Triumvirate knights on guard for my red robes. 

“Where to?” Shael asked.

I glanced around, searching the streets of the plague quarter for a likely alley. I was uncomfortably aware that my every movement was potentially being tracked—not that I thought the Triumvirate would bother with such without real cause—and had to be doubly careful of my movements.

“There first,” I replied, pointing out a narrow and heavily shadowed street that my mindsight reported as empty. “Wait at the entrance.”

Not commenting, Shael watched as I ducked into the alley’s depths and drew the shadows around me.

You have unequipped a set of the emporium’s robes. 

You have cast mimic, renewing your Actus visage. Remaining duration: 10 hours.

Stuffing Kesh’s robes into an empty bag, I buried them in the trash and rubble littering the alley. Leaving the garment behind was a risk, but not as large a one as taking it to Nicola’s drop point. And besides, I didn’t intend on being gone long.

My disguise in place, I strode out of the alley, and with Shael close on my heels, headed deeper into Nexus’ poorest quarter.

✵ ✵ ✵

Heading due south, Shael and I cut a wide arc through the plague quarter. As we did, my gaze idly drifted to the Triumvirate citadel dominating the skyline, and I wondered which emporium agent had replaced Safyre in the knights’ castle. Was it another forsworn?

“What are we doing here?” Shael muttered. “A rift could open at any moment.”

I glanced at him sideways. The bard’s gaze rove restlessly, darting from the pockmarked cobblestone streets to the dilapidated buildings, and from the wary residents to the heavily armored groups of passing players. 

“You haven’t spent much time in the plague quarter much, have you?” I guessed.

“No.” 

My brows rose at the curtness of his response. “Have you been here at all before?”

Tight-lipped, he said nothing.

His silence was answer enough. Taking pity on him, I attempted to set him at ease. “Rifts aren’t that common here. Yes, they appear, but not every day, and not in multiple locations at once. Although,” I added in fond reminiscence, “after my first day here, I had a somewhat different picture of the plague quarter.”

Despite himself, Shael looked intrigued. “What happened?”

I laughed. “I ran into a rift. Quite literally.”

Shael’s eyes widened. 

“But in hindsight, it was probably for the better.” My thoughts drifted as, not for the first time, I wondered what things would be like if I had not run into Simone’s party that day. Would I have still entered the guardian tower? Would I have still discovered the nether-infested sector, survived my next brush with the stygians, and met Draven, Adriel and the others? 

Possibly not.

“I have been to the plague quarter before,” Shael volunteered finally, “but never this deep.”

I nodded, unsurprised. “Then, you’ll need this,” I said, handing him a small crystal.

You have lost a crystal of rank 4 disease protection.

Withdrawing another crystal from my belt, I crushed it in a closed fist.

You have activated a single-use enchantment, casting a ward of disease protection around yourself. For the next 4 hours, you will be shielded from tier 4 and lower infections.

Silently copying me, Shael did the same.

“Good, now we’re ready,” I said.

“For what?” he wondered.

“For the saltmarsh,” I replied.

✵ ✵ ✵

Nicola’s drop point was not in the saltmarsh proper. 

Rather, it was in one of the many abandoned houses along its edge. “We’re here,” I said softly as we rounded a corner and the building in question came into sight.

“Here?” Shael asked, looking around in confusion. “Here, where? All I see are—” 

Yanking the half-elf back, I cut him off. 

“Wha—”

“Shh,” I hissed. Drawing the shadows around me, I edged up to the closest building.

On my prior visits to the plague quarter, I’d always found its southeastern section—the region overrun by the saltmarsh—to be vacant. Few players ever ventured here. It was why Nicola and I had chosen the faded yellow house on the rim of the saltmarsh as our drop point.

Unfortunately, the region was no longer empty.

Mindsight reported twenty players ahead, and not just ahead, but in the very same yellow house where I hoped my money was. It could not be a coincidence, of course.

Has Nicola betrayed me? 

Sadly, that seemed like a distinct possibility. But I couldn’t let the thought distract me. I had more important things to worry about at the moment. Moving slowly, I peered around the corner.

Multiple hostile entities have failed to detect you.

My second look at the north side of the yellow house was no more revealing than my first short glimpse. None of the players that my mindsight reported as being inside were visible from this distance. Drawing back from the corner, I closed my eyes and refocused on the mindglows I could sense. 

The players were lying motionless all along the edge of the building, and at a guess, I’d say the nearest six were peering out of the second floor’s dirt-stained north-facing windows. 

Lookouts, I concluded. 

It was a good bet, too, that the other fourteen were watching the western and eastern approaches, and perhaps even the southern one from the saltmarsh. 

More and more, this was looking like an ambush. But whether of Nicola’s making or someone else’s, I couldn’t say for certain yet.

Did they see me?

I couldn’t tell that either. 

The yellow house was about two hundred yards away, placing the players at the very limit of my mindsight range. Shael and I hadn’t been in direct line of sight for long, a couple of seconds at worst. And importantly, none of the players had altered position since I’d spotted them.

“Michael,” Shael whispered. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”

I glanced his way. The bard had dropped into a crouch—unconsciously, I thought—but he hadn’t faded into the shadows like I had. “There are at least twenty players lying in wait inside the house at the end of the street,” I replied, not willing to conclude yet that I’d accounted for all the ambushers.

Shael’s eyes narrowed. “Lying in wait for whom? Us?”

“Not us. Me.”

“How do you figure that?” he asked.

“Because they’re sitting right on top of where I need to go.”

The bard licked his lips. “I guess we better withdraw then and get a party together. I know more than a few players who are quite capable in a fight, and I daresay many of them are still in Nexus.” 

“Retreat?” I smiled bleakly. “I’ve no intention of doing that.”