Chapter 28.1: The Price of Failure

The place that the girls had picked out was quite the find as far as Scott was concerned. There was no power to the area, but that might become something hard to maintain anywhere for a while. Even Shara’s house had lost power for about an hour earlier that day.

“So, this place falls under your ownership now? Just fuck whoever had bought the land?” asked Scott.

“Well, yes. They weren’t using it, and since we’re outlaws anyway... Screw those guys.” said Shara. She took out a set of glasses, unfolded the earpieces and put them on. She had not worn them for a few days, and had realized that she was out of character.

“Sweet, there’s no squatting like armed squatting. How much will it cost to get this place ready?” asked Scott.

“Well, we will need to completely overhaul the eight unfinished buildings. The five finished ones will need to be refitted manually first, or possibly converted into something else. Probably looking at five figures at least, just to make it decent.” said Shara.

“Sounds good. How long do you think that it’ll take for you to reach us in Argent?” asked Scott.

“Hmm, I’d have to spend a few Jerin, but I should be able to get there in less than a week.”

“Dream World time or Earth time?” asked Scott.

“Ah, about two days Earth time.” said Shara.

“I’m going to find another spot there to act as a transfer node as well. We can use it to transition back and forth to the Dream World and Earth at will then.” said Shara.

Scott looked at her briefly then asked, “How does that even work. You sure know a lot about this stuff...”

“We’ll find out.” said Shara.

“Sweet.” said Scott after a moment. His expression made it obvious that he had more questions, but he shelved those for the moment. “Ashton is in a place called Ecotai. Any idea where that is?” asked Scott instead.

“Hmm, mmm....” said Shara lightly. "I think, maybe... Sonja might know?”

Scott nodded to her. “Maybe. If not, we can always meet up then go seek her out. There might be word online as well.”

“Anyway, you go on to sleep. You’re the only one who hasn’t even tried to get any rest since we died. Ashton said that she’d take first watch.” said Shara.

“Right, I could use some sleep, and something to do.” said Scott.

Shara reached out and softly placed her hand on his shoulder. “Get some rest. I think you’ve earned it.”

Scott reached up and placed his hand over hers. “Thanks... Tell Sonja to go to bed too, if you see her first.”

“Will do.” said Shara before she lightly pressed her glasses back with her finger.

They parted not long after and Scott wandered up to what he had decided would be his temporary room. It was the middlemost room on the third floor of the the eighth apartment building in the area. While the top floor of largest building had seemed like a solid idea, Scott preferred to be a little arbitrary in his choices, as the largest building seemed too obvious. If someone discovered that he had gone here, they would at least have to do a bit of searching to find him. The girls had followed suit and had chosen rooms in the same building and floor.

Scott stretched out on the quilt that he had brought with him from Shara’s house. They intended to bring more soon, but had to make due for the moment.

He closed his eyes and tried to go to sleep. Despite his lack of sleep in the recent past it was hard to relax his mind. So much had happened, so many things that made either no sense or caused him to have serious concerns for the future.

Plots, plans, and thoughts of things that needed to be done... Each of them fought for attention within the landscape of his mind. It was not until he chose something from among the clamor that he finally found enough of a sense of peace to relax. After he gathered the girls together and they got their new base set up, he would need to pay dear old daddy a visit. Scott wanted answers, and he was tired of playing nice about it.

***

Calm, cool under fire, assertive but willing to accept that some things had to be discussed calmly instead of shot down in a blaze of glory, those were things many people said about Sheriff Anthony Jensen. Only four years prior he had won the election for county Sheriff and since then he had tirelessly attempted to clean up the area. He had run on an anti-corruption, anti-drug campaign and had stuck with it even after his election.

The phone began to ring, but he ignored it. He already knew that it was just one more person who did not think they had to accept the fact that the police force was stretched too thin as it was. There was no choice in the matter.

Sheriff Jensen scrawled his name at the bottom of the paperwork that he was trying to finish up. It was his authorization to the mayor to announce that the sheriff was going to mass deputize anyone who showed up sober at the county courthouse steps tomorrow morning .

As Sheriff he had the power to deputize any able bodied citizen in the county to commit whatever action they needed to safeguard the lives and property of those around them within the bounds of the law. That would alleviate a lot of the ridiculous trespassing and animal cruelty claims that had been coming in at least. The good sheriff was certain that if he received one more call about a suspicious person attacking a wild animal in their yard he would just pull the trigger and end his own suffering. Deputizing the populace would not end the calls from upstanding morons, but at least it would keep the one’s fighting for their lives from being charged with stupid legal issues.

He had been called out to do everything from hunt down monsters to break up drunken idiots fighting over a shirt. His deputies had enough trouble dealing with normal situations, and now with the monsters attacking constantly on top of it, he was going to have to mobilize a county-wide defense force.

“That idiot actually thought that the governor would send the National Guard.” Jensen shook his head. That was a laugh. There were monsters spawning everywhere. They were on their own till they got a handle on things.

The mayor was slow to act in regards to things he found to be possible campaign killers. The sheriff did not give a damn. If he did not impose a curfew by tomorrow, he would do it himself whether it was constitutional or not. Far too many people had died today and neither the governor, nor the idiot mayor, had made a move yet for fear of their own re-election. No matter what excuse they gave, Jensen could not see any other reason for the delay.

***

Blackthorne took a deep breath of Dream World air for the first time in days. It had only been a few real world days, but two weeks had passed in this world. Rather, he expected that it had. The truth was that he had awoken in the little garden with the statue.

“There’s a lot to do. Guess I should pay my token and get started.” said Blackthorne.

“What’s the rush, handsome?” asked a soft and familiar voice.

Blackthorne looked around expectantly, but of course he could not see the origin of that greeting. “So, the goddess of darkness graces me with her presence...”

“So formal!” said the voice before Blackthorne felt warm arms wrap around him, and smelled a sweet and intriguing scent. Whatever this invisible demon, goddess, or whatever turned out to be, she certainly smelled nice.

“Sorry, some things have happened...” said Blackthorne. It was strange, how he felt at the moment. It was like he had actually missed this strange invisible woman. He had heard nothing from her since his death, and not much before that.

“I know, remember... You died. Sucks that it happened on Earth, too. The death penalty there is much more severe.” said the invisible lady of darkness.

“How so? I haven’t even checked my stats since I’ve been busy.” said Blackthorne. Honestly, he was almost afraid to look as he knew that he would have gone into a rage if he had done so earlier. He had mellowed some since then, however.

“Check for yourself and find out.” said the goddess.

Blackthorne decided to do just that. His status window opened up before him and he took a good look at the changes.

<<< Status >>>

Name: Scott Blackthorne

Race: Mahorela Abaivonin

Title: Gentleman of Darkness

Level: 7 [Hatchling] Skill Points: 0

Vitality: 192[192]

Weapon Attack: 93[93]

Durability: 137[137]

Speed: 51[51]

Spirit: 430[430]

>>

It took him a moment to realize the difference. When he did, his eyes widened comically and then narrowed to angry slits. “My level didn’t change but I lost ten points in every stat and... dammit!”

“That’s right. Anyone who dies on Earth will keep their levels, but lose ten points in each stat. They also lose all of their skill points, a token, and take a fairly nasty experience acquisition penalty for the better part of two Earth days.” said the invisible voice.

“Why the hell is this different? I wouldn’t have given a damn if I had spent those points but fuck!” snarled Blackthorne.

“That’s one reason. The other is to remove the normal penalties, largely the one that sends you to a random point on the planet. It’s meant to safeguard people on Earth while they are learning the ropes, but it still sort of screws you over.” said the voice.

“Wait, losing my skill points is bad enough, but the stat loss... If my levels stay the same then the loss is permanent!” he exclaimed.

“Yep. It’s still better than being permanently dead, or winding up in Africa, or something. But die even once and you can lose days, weeks, maybe even months of work depending on your skill levels.” she said.

Blackthorne glared hatefully at his status screen. This was pure garbage. The loss of a level was one thing, but he had lost fifty stat points and all those skill points! He wanted to scream.

“Though, you are a bit of a cheat character Mr. Gentleman of Darkness.” said the invisible woman.

“Cheat character? What?” he asked her.

“Unlike those poor girls who follow you around like love-struck puppies, you can at least get your points back.” she said.

“I can? How?” he said.

“You honestly don’t remember?” she asked with an amused, yet musical lilt in her voice.

“Look, I’ve had a rough few days... Don’t tease me.” he said.

“Fine, fine...Soul Power... remember that? Kill something and devour its soul?” asked the voice.

Blackthorne’s eyes lit up. “Hey, that’s right!”

“See, it’s not so bad. Goodness, you’d only have to kill a few thousand zombies to get your stats back or earn a single skill point.”

Blackthorne let out a mighty groan. “Ugh... That would take years if I had to rely on zombies.” They did not respawn quickly at that cemetery by any stretch of the imagination.

“Well.... I suppose there is a faster way, and you could even help your friends get their stats and skill points back. Though, you’d have to want to make it work.” said the invisible woman.

Blackthorne tilted his head to the side. “Really? What way is that?”

“The best way would be to start your own official faction.” said the voice.

“Faction? What are you on about?”

The voice giggled softly then said, “Factions are sort of like guilds or clans in an RPG. The term faction just seemed more appropriate for Earth. Basically, you declare an official group with an official group name, and then you’ll be a faction.”

Blackthorne was at a loss as to why any of that was important or how that would help his friends get their stats back in order. A faction sounded fun, but if it was anything like in a game it would not be easy to get it officially sanctioned. Unofficial guilds were easy, but she made it sound like there would be special perks.

“What would I have to do, and why is this even useful?” he asked.

“It’s useful because you can pool resources more easily, can build a proper fortress, get extra bonuses, and can spend tokens on things like extra skill points or even use them to resurrect people who aren’t from Earth.”

“Resurrect... I could give tokens to Sonja? Would they even work for her?” asked Blackthorne.

“You can’t really give them to her and have them work properly. However, if you start a faction, you can pool tokens and use them to resurrect anyone or anything killed in your group even if they did not have a token on them. You can even tell if anyone in your faction is alive or dead.” said the voice.

“Sold... What do I need to do?” asked Blackthorne.

The voice laughed in her musical way. “I’ve prepared a pamphlet just for you.”

A thin pamphlet appeared in the air before Blackthorne, obviously held up by her invisible hand. Before he took it, she whispered softly into his ear, her voice slightly shaky. “If you succeed in creating your faction, I have many secret things to tell you....Please don’t be mad, OK?”

Blackthorne felt her soft burden disappear from his back, and a strange wetness on his cheek.

***