Demonic Magician

We had swept up the broken shards of the first area and only slightly bloodied our hands on the sharp edges. Tore out parts of ourselves so the rough edges could gel together. More surface area so we could be the perfect Party. Still early days, and things hadn’t properly set before the sinister shadows started to cling to us and try to break us apart. It was a good thing we lived in the limelight to scour the darkness away.

I adjusted my purple suit as I approached the village. Took the top hat down to smooth back my brown hair. It was getting unkempt, but I didn’t quite trust my troupe to smarten me up just yet. Hat back on and I looked the part. Or at least, as good as it got. The dried hand-print of blood across my forehead was itchy, and I was keen to get that washed off as soon as possible.

Hardly two steps into the second area of the continent and already the Crimson Shadow cast a dark shadow across our existence. I couldn’t deny the name of the gang had some gravitas even if it was a little cliche. That said, if their leader—the Lady in Red—was indeed a blood mage or vampire, then it made even more sense.

Did our Party need a name too? Perhaps I would float the idea with the other two when our tempers and imminent amount of violence were closer to base level. If there was one thing to rile us up, it was the sight of another area taken over by the Players that had fallen under the insidious banner of the ever avoidant woman.

Now I was strolling up to the small village on my own. Fist clenched. Anger overrode any worry or trepidation about what could actually be lurking within. The signpost with three severed heads atop it was reasonably clear about what might be awaiting me. Still, if you knew the stakes, it was easier to tip the odds in your favor. Or so I told myself.

The cobbled stone path led toward a group of small single-floor houses. White and dark brown, with thatched roofs. I could see System-created villagers standing around… but there was something wrong. They were immobile, the closest ones looking dazed or spaced out. Frozen in place.

In the middle of the huddle of buildings was an open space—a circular staging area where a fountain sat. Broken wood and refuse had been piled in and around it, and it now flickered with a low flame. Around this campfire was a number of chairs and tables, figures sitting around and murmuring to each other. Players, I was sure of it.

I didn’t feel much like putting on an act, even as my show-smile spread across my face. It’s what I did, though - a compulsion. Center of attention to dazzle and wow. Cold-blooded murder on occasion, but show-business could be pretty cut-throat. My magic card deck weighed heavily on my inside breast pocket. I no longer needed to physically paw at it to bring forth my summons, but knowing it was close-by was comforting. The rest of the scene was anything but.

Now that I had passed the first few houses and groups of zombie-like System-created, it was unnerving. It was as if someone had flicked a switched and they became paused in time, doing whatever they were before the Shadows took over the village. Not even really breathing, but wavering slightly as if to mimic the process. It was no surprise that my movement drew the attention of the seated figures. That and my almost sparkling suit, no doubt.

“Oi,” a man shouted. Long beard and shaven head. Looked like he hadn’t even heard of a bath and avoided the rain by instinct. Crimson hand-print on his forehead—just like the others. “Who the fuck ordered a clown?” He grinned with more malice than humor.

Three other figures turned and leered at me. Movements up to my left signaled they had a ranger on the nearest roof. I didn’t turn to check—eyes remained forward at the crowd. They needed a little finessing.

A whistle came from the first to stand. Easily seven feet tall, the woman had short ruddy hair and a tongue that spent more time outside her mouth than in. Her muscled figure was bound in leather straps, most of them studded to an extent that seemed conventionally uncomfortable. “I don’t know. He’s kinda cute. Maybe I can keep him?”

“Boss said to kill all trespassing Players. No trophies… or toys.” The third of them was a man with long black hair and a slim mustache. He seemed to be concentrating on a book sat upon his blue robes more than my presence.

The fourth of them said nothing, but glared at me with yellow eyes. A crocodile-person. I was at somewhat of a loss at seeing the stocky figure in chain-mail, twin axes at his sides. Sure, I knew the System could bring all sorts of oddities through the portals, but… hmm, focus on the act, Max.

I continued to ignore the ranger on the roof. Their part had already been cast, I just had to start the show.

“You seem lost, little chicken. Can you not read?” The bald man stood up and took a couple of steps toward me. Still plenty of distance between us, but he was making a show of being the decision-maker. Mouth of the Party. His eyes narrowed in on the hand-print partially obscured by my hat. Seeds of doubt were sown. I just had to nourish them.

A wry smile curled up at the side of my mouth. “I see communication here has been as bad as she said.”

He narrowed his eyes at me and shot a glance back at the woman. She shrugged, and he returned his ire in my direction. “The fuck you on about?”

“The Lady said there hadn’t been anything from Jokkar lately. Sent me to investigate.”

“Bullshit,” he spat on the floor. There was a wavering in his eyes, close to buying the ruse, but not quite.

The wizard spoke up, still focused on his book. “It’s true, Cran. Is it not? Jokkar hasn’t sent missive through for a couple of days. He usually isn’t so quiet.”

“So what?” The man shrugged as if he was trying to shirk off the truth. “Bastard is probably dicking around playing king in Fort Asshole.”

My turn. “That’s why the Lady sent me. To see who is at… fault.”

They didn’t like that word, and all but the crocodile winced. My silver tongue shone brightly in the daylight, and I twisted the nails further. A slight risk, as I was terrible at coming up with names on the spot. Sometimes these things just clicked into place, however.

“You may call me the Man in Purple.”

The woman snorted. “We haven’t heard of you before. Where’s your proof? You don’t even have a party.” That was a good point for her side, and their disbelief wound up a little tighter. A shadow over the sproutings that were desperate for sunlight. Seemed as though the Lady required her converts to gather in groups of five.

Faux confidence carried my impassive head tilt, as if their questions were so beneath me. “I’m her clean-up guy.” I grinned. “For example, your defenses here are atrocious. I was able to walk right up near you and wasn’t spotted, despite my garish garb.”

Cran narrowed his eyes up at the ranger behind me, a scowl across his face for my valid point. Even if I wasn’t who I purported to be, I was right. I continued before they had a chance to poke holes in my ruse.

“As you should all know, the Lady has a dim view on those that fail her. Perhaps this will be enough of a show of my position.” I rose a hand into the air, making sure to assure them it was empty.

I clicked my fingers together.

There was a brief zip in the air, and with a groan, their ranger collapsed. The body clattered down from the roof and then thudded against the ground. I raised a lazy eyebrow toward them. Their neck bleeding from two puncture wounds. The arrow that had done the deed was invisible as soon as I had glanced at it.

I clapped my hands to draw their attention. The invisibility only lasted ten seconds so we’d need to move on from the short trick. Internally, I smiled at the Dazzle icons over their heads. They had been tricked, after all. Each icon improving my damage toward them, I would need to build as many stacks as possible before the polite discourse ran out of steam.

“Alright, alright.” Cran waved his hand. “You made your point. Fuck. Nex was a good ranger.”

“Clearly not.” I rolled my eyes. “May I come closer to discuss, or do you need further proof?”

He didn’t seem too pleased about it, but he gestured me over. The woman looked as though she couldn’t wait to throw me on the fire and cook me up, whereas the croc seemed fine with me being raw. The spellcaster was still more interested in that book. So... now I wanted it.

I took my top hat off and put it atop one of the System-created villagers. Portly man with a vacant look toward the horizon. There was no reason for me to feel bad for them, as they weren’t… real in the same sense that Players were. Still, they looked close enough to be the real thing, and I was annoyed that this village had been ruined by the gang.

A few steps closer, and I was within smelling distance of their leader. Somehow, it managed to overbear the burning wood of the fountain. I rolled out my shoulders and made a show of withdrawing my ledger and a quill. Slowly, so they didn’t catch my other key ability—being able to manipulate my Inventory items by whim. “Let’s start from the top, just so I have the full picture.” I raised my eyebrows at him as if I were asking his permission.

“Yeah, sure.” He pulled a face, but with the ire of the Lady looming behind my words, he didn’t have much of a choice. I also didn’t have all day while certain plates were spinning.

“Was it just the five of you here?” I held the inked quill to the page in anticipation. The process was set now. It was easier for him to fall into the rut I had created.

“Yeah.” He crossed his arms, which sent a cloud of odor my way. An offence I wasn’t soon to forget. They should have used the fountain to bathe in rather than turn it into a pyre.

“Some of the System limitations aren’t ideal, are they?” I mused, mostly just thinking out loud as I pretended to make notes. Parties were usually limited to five for some reason. We made do with three, at present, but it seemed pragmatic for those possibly weaker than us to have strength in numbers.

The wizard turned another page. “Yes, that is why the Lady intends to unclasp the clutches of the System and send us back to where we belong.”

“May that day draw ever closer.” I smiled at him, even though he didn’t look my way, before I returned my gaze to Cran. This was somewhat newer information. We had heard that she was looking to take over the throne, but that might just be part of the greater plot. Returning to our real worlds didn’t sound like the worst thing… the way she was going about it was the issue.

I wanted to press them more on the motivations and actual workings of the Crimson Shadow - why they felt the need to kill or recruit all Players in their path, or why they drank the Lady in Red’s blood—but if I was the man I was pretending to be, then I should know already.

Instead, I pulled a face. “Last time you saw a group of unaffiliated Players?”

Cran rubbed his chin. “Nobody from the bridge since the Lady came over. The fort probably helped with that, although the place looked like a fuckin’ death trap.”

I nodded slowly and glanced over in the direction of the now-destroyed ramshackle defenses. Between the village itself, the surrounding hill, and the tree cover, they couldn’t see down to the bridge. They must have been pretty stuck in place to have not made note of the fight where we had burned the fort to the ground.

“But there was a small group who poked their nose in two days ago. Not new to the area, but hoping we would abandon our duties.” The wizard turned another page. “I assume you met the three of them on the way in?”

“Indeed.” Little else I could say to that, not without losing my temper. I had done well to remain calm, so close to these killers—and their stench—but what show-face I had been able to keep was slowly waning. About time that we wrapped this up.

I cleared my throat, coughing a little. It wasn’t just the stench, but it was part of it. “Ah, also, any complaints you’d like to bring up to the Lady?”

Cran opened and closed his mouth a few times before shaking his head. “No, sir.”

She commanded an amount of fear and respect in them then.

A thunderous noise came from one of the houses to our left.

“What was that?” He turned away just as, with a second heavy blast, the front of the cottage burst open. Dozens of shards of wood and broken plaster were sent across the village center. The dark shape of a large grizzly bear careened out of the wreckage, drawing all of their eyes. Not least because he sported a rather dapper waistcoat and bowler hat.

“That’s my cue to leave,” I said with a wide grin, giving the wizard a wink as he looked back down to find his book missing.

And with that, I vanished.