Warsinger by James Baldwin (most inspirational books TXT) 📗

When the time comes, you must open the Dragon Gates, free the Nine, and in doing so enact a controlled demolition of the magic that has protected Archemi for millennia.

Needless to say, this is a massive undertaking. By accepting this Main Story Quest, you will open lines of quests which will all build toward this one ultimate goal. It is all I and my brothers and sisters can do to support you. Aid us, and we will lend you our powers. Even Veles should be amenable to that, if you prove your trustworthiness.

Rewards: EXP on quest acceptance.

Difficulty: Varies

Special: Hector, the knowledge impressed on me by your brother's spirit contains a warning. When the Architects created this world, the Drachan were always intended to be a fearsome opponent... but something is not right with the order of things. A voice whispers to me that they are no longer of this ‘paracosm’. I do not know what this means or how it has come to be. Being Starborn, you are not a child of this world. Perhaps this expression has a greater significance to you.

[Do you want to accept this quest?]

The prickling feeling came back. I glanced at the Message window, where the unread message waited.

Paracosm. I had heard that word before. Temperance – the gynoid, presumed deceased, assistant to the CEO of the Ryuko Corporation and my hostess in Archemi – had explained that word to me once. A paracosm was a fictional universe with its own laws, stories, mythology, and languages, like Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings or the Lovecraft stories. How could the Drachan no longer be part of Archemi’s paracosm if they were… well… here?

I swallowed, trying to moisten my mouth before refocusing my attention back on the screen. The holographic selection panel hung patiently in the air, glowing softly. “Let me think about it.”

I closed the Quest pane and hovered over the new message. My lizard brain was screeching a warning. Danger, danger! Alert! Alert! There were no active Admins or Mods in Archemi right now. Every last human on Earth was either dead from the HEX virus, dead from the nuclear holocaust that followed, or entombed in bunkers and mile-high sealed towers with their own recycled piss to drink and no internet.

“I dunno about this.” Karalti growled. Cutthroat looked up from her archaeological dig, blinking in consternation. She had clumps of moss stuck in the bars of her muzzle.

“Me either, but I’m pretty sure I can’t be hacked through the message system, so…” Against my better judgement, I opened the email – then yelped, stumbled over the heel of my boot, and tripped. “Jesus-fucking-Christ!”

“AHHH!” Karalti trumpeted in mirrored fear, beating her wings and driving a cloud of rain and mud into the air.

The message pane leapt into a nine-foot tall glowing rectangle of gibberish that was expanding as it continuously scrolled down. I stared up at it, slack-jawed. Nothing I was looking at made sense. The lines were nothing but gobbledygook to my still-dyslexic brain. My HUD narrator usually read things out for me, but there was no help with this literal wall of text. No matter how much I looked, I couldn’t make heads or tails of it.

“Is that… is that code?” I picked myself up and hastily closed the window.

“I don’t know. But it gives me the creeps.” Karalti shuddered. “It’s… it’s not supposed to be here in this world.”

‘A voice whispers to me that the Drachan are no longer of this ‘paracosm’. I do not know what this means or how it has come to be.’ As I recalled Matir’s words, gooseflesh crept up my arms and the back of my neck. After a minute of hesitation, I forwarded it to the only person I thought might have some idea of what I was looking at.

“Hey Rin, don’t open this file I sent you before reading the rest of this message,” I dictated mentally, rubbing my forehead and the bridge of my nose. “Before you open the attachment, brace for a big, big file. Someone sent this to me with no message title or sender name other than ‘Admin’. Is Ororgael trying to send out a virus or something? Is the game breaking down? I have no fucking idea what I’m looking at here. I’ll warn you again, though: this is a HUGE file. Expect a jumpscare. Hope you’re doing okay in Litvy with Lord Soma. Give Ebisa a high five from me.”

I sent the message, rubbed my hands against my thighs and picked myself up. The message was still open. I started at the huge panel of code with deep suspicion, forcing myself to face it until I relaxed. The sky hadn’t fallen. The stars blazed in a shimmering curtain behind Archemi’s enormous moon, Erruku. Frogs croaked and leaves rustled in the crisp alpine air, still tinged with the odors of slaughter and sewage from the devastated city of Karhad in the valley below. The game wasn’t crashing. Karalti was okay. I was okay. Whatever this message meant, it wasn’t serious. Archemi was in beta. It was probably just a glitch – one of many I’d experienced in the three months I’d been here.

To my surprise, a green arrow appeared in my field of vision, pulsing upwards with the word ‘Will’. Somehow, I’d just added a point of Willpower to my stats. Okay then. I’ll take it.

“Okay. We’re cool.” I let out a tense, shaky breath. “Everything’s cool. Now, where were we?”

My dragon rumbled, arching her tail stiffly behind her. “YOU were going to go get some warm clothes. And then we were going to go find Suri.”

“Yeah, right. That’s right.” I strolled over to her and clapped her affectionately on the knee, only to jump a second time when the postern door to the gatehouse banged open behind us. All three of us – me, Karalti and Cutthroat - turned to see a slim, scowling man wheel around the edge of the doorway and come sprinting toward us.

“Hector, thank the Maker's