Jace, Esther, Wallace, and Thursa materialized on a large dock at the end of a sizeable queue. The Somali Pirates were known as the Aden Clan in the game and had set up their stronghold on Jade Island. It was one of the Teardrop Isles, which were part of the most popular midlevel quest in the game. Most MIMs were designed for levels 12 and under, as once players got above that, they primarily hung out in public areas and lived large. It was so much work for the average player to get to twelve that risks of dying were avoided whenever possible.
Still, the Teardrop Isles quest was designed for level 15+ and didn’t scale to your average level, so death was likely if you didn’t have four strong characters in your party. It was said that the gods cried tears of gemstones when one of their own was killed or defeated in battle. These “tears” formed islands when they hit the realms below. Players could adventure on these islands to recover the specific jewel, usually guarded by a monster, buried deep in a volcano, or hidden behind riddles and traps. It was the closest thing in ROI to the classic games like Tomb Raider or Uncharted.
Currently, 18 islands existed in the game, with a new one added every few months. Since they were MIMs, anyone could try them regardless of how many people had passed them, and several players had managed to collect all 18 gemstones. No one knew what you could do with them yet. Some assumed that once they got to 20, they would be able to trade a complete set into their god (or demon) for a fantastic boon. Others felt that weapons would soon be found with sockets to accept certain combinations of the stones, giving the blade or bow immense powers. And still, more players just thought they were fun to collect and trade.
The quests dominated most of the land on each island, leaving only a few acres available for towns and villages. These settlements were coveted strongholds as they were guaranteed to receive a steady stream of players attempting the quest. Most were set up with temples to remove curses, equipment stores, and houses to rent so players could establish spawn points or travel nodes. Travel to the islands was only possible by ship, so establishing a home base on the more difficult islands was important.
Jade Island was one of the easiest quests, and players typically didn’t need much help passing them, so the Aden Clan made money by requiring a cover charge to enter. Jace had already paid a ship captain to transport them to the island. Since they had skipped the voyage, it had worked like a travel node, just one that cost money. Now, they had to pay again. Depending on how much you spent, only certain areas of the island were accessible. If you only wanted to do the quest, it was relatively cheap, but if you wanted to visit the best restaurants and brothels, you needed to pay a premium.
Jace wasn’t worried about the cost. He had plenty of money. Instead, he worried that they might not be able to leverage themselves close enough to the head pirates to witness the meeting with the merfolk king. Their information was that the meeting was still a couple of hours away, and they planned to blend into the island crowd to see how close they could get to the pirate headquarters.
“I don’t like it,” Jace said as they moved slowly toward the front of the line. Based on the size of the parties in front of them and the speed at which they passed by the gatekeeper, they had a few minutes.
“What’s the matter,” Wallace asked. “The CIA doesn’t let you expense cover charges to pleasure island?” She paused after she said that. “Wait, is this a CIA mission? Or are you just helping Esther out? Are the Adens real-life terrorists?”
“Try real-life pirates,” Jace replied and knew he shouldn’t say more than that. The look on Wallace’s face let him know he already said too much.
She raised her hand. “No. I don’t have clearance. As far as I know, I am rescuing a mermaid from pirates. That’s all I need.”
“It isn’t the cost,” Jace said, returning to the original topic. “It’s the access. We can pay the top dollar, but the island is clearly divided into restricted zones. If we have to send Esther sneaking into a top-floor meeting room, she might not be able to.”
A menu of prices was available to peruse before you got to the front, and Jace saw quest options. Instead of money, you could go on a mission for the pirates and return with valuable weapons, magical charms, or artifacts. Even the lowest of these quests granted the best access you could get with money; however, within the quests, tiers also existed. Jace needed the highest one. “Steal the Eye of the Storm from the Silver Dragon,” Jace read aloud.
{We don’t have time for that,} Gracie said. {Your meeting is in a few hours, and you want to go on a dragon quest?}
“What is the Eye of the Storm?” Jace asked.
Wallace answered. “A gemstone that gives you the power to control the weather. Very powerful, especially for sailors. It passed around between a few ship captains. No one is certain where it is now. At least, no one is saying. If the Adens say a dragon has it, it could be true.”
“We are going after a dragon without Psycho,” Esther said, only half paying attention to the players, knowing they were probably talking to their operators. “He will be furious.”
“He doesn’t need to know,” Jace said.
“I know,” Wallace said. “And I’m not happy about it either. Is this an ego thing for you? Do you always need to go against the biggest obstacle? We aren’t equipped to fight a dragon?”
“Sure we are,” Jace said. “Thursa is a rock druid, and I am a stone shaman. We are designed to operate underground in a cave system. You are a paladin, and they kill dragons all the time. Esther is the game’s best thief, and if we need to steal something, I wouldn’t want anyone else.”
“I’m not a thief anymore,” Esther interrupted again. “I’m a librarian now.” Draya had given her some of her school clothes, and the rogue was a transformed woman. She wore a loose blouse under a tight embroidered vest and a striped blazer. The shirt went up to her neck and didn’t even have buttons to undo. Her skirt went down to mid-calf, and she wore sandals instead of boots. Her hair was pulled back into a tight bun with a pair of thin-rimmed black glasses on her face. She did look like a college librarian – possibly one from every frat boy’s fantasy, as it was impossible for Esther not to add a sultry element to any ensemble she wore.
“There is no way we can do it in two hours,” Wallace argued, ignoring the woman. They were nearing the front of the line now and would have to make a decision soon.
“I’m in charge,” Jace said, pulling rank. “I think this is the best option to get what we need. It says if you give them the Eye of the Storm, we get a private meeting with them and access to anything we want. If King Neptudah is here, we will get to meet him.”
“They better give us anything we want,” Wallace replied. “The Eye of the Storm is worth more than this entire island. We would have to be fools to trade it for a ‘Meet and Greet.’ I’m sure they put it on the entrance menu as a joke.”
“Maybe we are just big fans,” Jace said as the last group in front of them paid and were let through. “People pay thousands of dollars to go backstage and meet their idols all the time.”
Wallace didn’t reply and only rolled her eyes as Jace spoke to the gatekeeper and told him what they were willing to do. The guard was an old man with a long white beard, and his jaw dropped so far his chin hair almost touched the dock. “It is not an easy task, adventurer. No one yet has attempted it.”
“If we return with the Eye,” Jace asked, “we will get to meet with the head of the Aden Clan, correct?”
“Yes, yes, most definitely.”
“Good,” Jace nodded. “What information can you give us?”
“I will mark the location on your map,” the old man said. “The rest is up to you.”
Once they had stepped out of line and moved back to the end of the dock where an exit-only travel node stood, Wallace let her opinion be known. “If I die from this foolish escapade . . .”
“You won’t,” Jace said. “Like you told me. We only have a couple of hours. If I can’t see a safe way through to get the Eye, we return here, pay our money, and take our chances. It’s better than letting Thursa and Esther entertain themselves in a pirate pleasure land while we wait. Idle hands are the devil’s playground.” He glanced at the NPC couple. Thursa wore a shirt, and he looked more uncomfortable in it than Esther did in her clothes. Even though it was half unbuttoned, revealing his sculpted hairy chest, Jace could tell the druid was looking for any excuse to take it off.
“I believe it is ‘Workshop,’” Wallace corrected. “Idle hands are the devil’s workshop. And Thursa already serves a demon, and Esther is one.”
“Former demon,” Esther spoke up. “I’m reformed now. I’m an angelic librarian.”
“You certainly are,” Thursa said. He liked Esther’s new attire.
Wallace rolled her eyes again and said nothing as she understood Jace was probably right. The group leader accessed the travel node and sent them off in search of a dragon.
Thunder Island was not part of the Teardrop Isles and made Jade Island look like a tiny rock in the ocean. While the Somalis inhabited a few dozen small buildings tucked into a cove, Jace brought his party to a massive island with miles of coastland. It was impossible to see how big Thunder Island was from their vantage point, as they saw dozens of ships loading and unloading as far as the eye could see to their left and right. They looked like semi-trucks parked against a massive warehouse; only it wasn’t just one enormous structure but dozens of smaller buildings with hundreds of people milling about sorting goods and filing paperwork. Further from the water sat industry buildings like bakeries, blacksmiths, tanners, carpenters, and clothiers who turned the raw goods into products to sell. Even more characters walked along the street further inland from this process to purchase the goods.
Accompanying the clang of the blacksmith’s hammer and the thrum of the seamstress's loom were flashes of magic, sparks of electricity, and explosions of fire as not just the mundane was sold here. If Jace had his sensory settings turned up, he would undoubtedly smell the aroma of baked goods, spices, tobacco smoke, and half a dozen other luxuries floating through the air.
The shaman’s attention didn’t stay on the clamor of activity for long, and instead, his eyes looked toward the center of the island, where mountains rose from a thick forest. Some peaks were covered in snow, while others smoked from bubbling lava. Over all of it sat dark clouds with flashes of lightning jumping between them and a constant background of rolling thunder that gave the island its name.
“I think I know where the dragon is,” Jace said. “Especially if he has a storm gem with him.”
“I do too,” Wallace said. “We should get there in a few minutes.”
“It’ll take longer than that,” Jace said, turning to look at the paladin. The shaman was disguised as a half-orc, about halfway in height between his human form and his natural orc persona. Wallace stood two inches shorter. Jace saw the paladin wasn’t looking off toward the mountains. Instead, she had her eyes focused on a sign standing on the far side of the street that greeted all the characters arriving through the travel node.
The display listed over a dozen popular establishments that might draw people to the island. The names were printed on individual wooden slats with arrows on one side that indicated the direction one should walk to find them. Third, from the bottom, was the name “The Silver Dragon.”
“It’s a tavern?” Jace asked, a bit of wind taken from his sales.
“At least Psycho won’t be pissed he missed out,” Esther said. Wallace was already walking in the indicated direction, and the woman followed with Thursa at her side. Jace spent a few more moments looking up at the adventurous mountain landscape and then down the street to their right, which offered as much potential excitement as navigating a crowded mall at Christmastime. He sighed and followed his friends.
The activity was most hectic near the travel node, and the crowds thinned out considerably as they moved down the bustling street. Esther was drawn in by several jewelers and artisans, while smoked meats and freshly baked bread captured Thursa’s attention. The sun was setting in the distance, and it was dinner time for all the NPCs who only lived on global game time.
Jace and Wallace herded their companions in the proper direction and encouraged them to stay on task. The Silver Dragon would likely have a little of everything to sample. They were mostly successful. Esther still managed to steal a few cupcakes and offered one to Thursa. The big man thanked her profusely as he stuffed the whole confection in his mouth. Jace was pretty sure the druid hadn’t even unwrapped it first.
When they reached their destination, a single tower emerged from the village skyline, looking like a lighthouse along the coastal region. An almost imperceptible wall rose to section off the area at the base of the tower. The barrier was built into the sides of homes, and several large brick buildings joined together to prevent patrons from moving through or around them. The cleverly designed wall funneled all traffic between two shops where a large iron gate stood with a pair of posted guards.
The men didn’t stop anyone but surveyed all incoming traffic and took particular interest in Jace’s group. Jace and Esther were level 17, Thursa was 15, and Wallace was 14. They were easily the highest concentration of levels roaming the streets. Most NPCs were under ten, while the few PCs Jace discerned were no higher than 15. The guards let them through, and Jace understood they were now within a more restricted, specialized space. Guards were more frequent, and the concentration of players along the docks was higher.
The game didn’t have a clear indicator between PCs and NPCs, but Jace had played the game long enough now to be able to spot the differences. Players usually covered themselves in magical armor and weapons and wore mismatched jewelry. NPCs blended into the scenery better, wearing non-descript clothing and rarely showing weapons. NPCs that were part of a party were more extravagantly equipped, but even then, they interacted with the game environment more naturally. They never secretly talked with an operator and rarely spent any time in their inventory. They also weren’t as nervous about being ambushed or targeted.
Jace saw several PCs on ships, either bringing the vessel to dock or preparing for a nighttime voyage. The land here rose significantly above sea level, with at least two flights of stairs descending to the docks. From his vantage point, Jace saw crews unloading ships, moving to the docks, and then disappearing from view for a while before reappearing empty-handed, having never ascended the stairs. The player guessed there must be tunnels dug into the side of the rocky shore leading to an underground warehouse. His eyes traced the supposed path along the ground and eventually looked at the first floor of a massive building from which the lighthouse tower rose.
“Welcome to the Silver Dragon,” Wallace said. “No fire-breathing wyrms in sight.”
“Silver dragons don’t breathe fire,” Thursa advised. “They only have . . .”
“Not now,” Wallace stopped her companion. Jace imagined the druid was an expert where magic and nature collided and often corrected his leader’s incorrect assumptions.
As they approached the building, Jace felt this was someone’s stronghold. He didn’t look forward to battling another player for the rights to the Eye of the Storm. Killing terrorists was fine, but he felt guilty taking out innocent civilians who just happened to have something he needed to complete an important quest. He guessed it was something like a federal agent commandeering someone’s car, only the civilian losing his vehicle didn’t also usually end up dead.
The Silver Dragon was a one-stop shop for everything they had just walked through. If there was an underground warehouse, it must contain each of the industries they had passed because it displayed all the food, clothing, weapons, and magical items they had just seen, only at slightly higher quality and price. To Jace, it felt like a massive truck stop off a major freeway with merchandise up front and a large restaurant in the back.
The two players dragged their NPCs past the eye candy and sat at an empty table within a quickly filling tavern. The decor was lovely, with an equal presentation of luxury and entertainment balanced against a sense of security as several armed guards stood about the hall. The barmaids were dressed attractively with a heavy pirate theme but modestly enough not to be mistaken for escorts. Jace watched as an elven patron still made that mistake, reaching up under one of the waitress’s skirts to pat her on the butt as she walked by. A bolt of lightning flashed over his head beneath the high ceiling. The elf withdrew his hand and froze. Most of the seated crowd turned in wonder. Jace had seen the warning shot fire from a large crystal set into the wall above one of the stationed guards. Each armed soldier had a similar gem over their head, and they all had their eyes focused on the offending guest. The elf returned to his meal, understanding he was being given a second chance to behave.
It was a sound defense system, resulting in a well-ordered clientele and an occasional light show.
{Jace,} Gracie interrupted, {you will not believe where you are. As you probably guessed, this is a stronghold. Want to take a shot at whose it is?}
“I don’t know,” Jace said. “Some international gun runner?”
{Better,} Gracie said. {The Silver Dragon belongs to our good friend Captain Cloudspark.}
