There was some hesitation from Samir as the rest of the group began to walk toward the large hole in the middle of the wall.

“Come on, Sammy. What’s the matter?” Sivlander said as he turned to face his ally.

“I think he’s upset the bracelet doesn’t match his shoes,” Trefor joked. This got a chuckle out of the group, except for Samir, who looked to be deep in thought.

“Guys, I think I might log out,” Samir said. “This bracelet is one of the most important things a wizard can have. I will never find an item like this again; I mean they are too rare. Maybe it would be better if I just bailed now. Any XP loss is worth having this item.”

“Hey wait a second,” Sivlander said. “That isn’t fair to the rest of us. We all agreed to press on and fight against the evil Wyrm who wants to destroy civilization. If you bail, it’s a guaranteed death sentence for the rest of us. We need a spell caster for making us immune to fireballs and other spells.”

Samir shrugged. He looked rather conflicted about the choice he was making. Sivlander took a deep breath. If Samir backed out now, it would all be in vain. There was no chance of fighting the Wyrm. A mission that had a minimum of 4 people meant that all four people would be needed for some kind of special task. This would doom their entire effort.

“I don’t know, Van,” Samir said. “You gotta realize that our chances of winning this quest are low enough already. If we lose our items in the final battle, I’m going to have lost one of the most powerful items in the game. But if we just cut our losses now, we can always do this in six more months.

“Six months is a long freaking time,” Sivlander replied. “Look, Samir, we’re not just trying to do this quest because it’s fun and because it gets us a lot of loot and prestige. We’re trying to get Draco’s attention so he can make us pro. You know Trefor and I have been working for a very long time trying to get into the higher ranks. This is the ticket to getting there. I know you want this item a lot, and it seems very important to you, but is it worth selling us out over it? We’ve been playing together for years man. Are you really going to just screw us over for an item?”

“It’s not just an item, Sivlander,” Samir said as he played with the bracelet a little as it hung from his wrist. “It is the ticket to becoming an Archwizard. Having double the magic points means I’m no longer completely useless after the first few minutes of a battle. There are spells that I can cast now that I’ve had for years but could never afford to use. This is how we can all get to the next level. With a stronger me, we’re going to have a stronger guild.”

“Don’t pretend like you’re trying to do this as a favor for us,” Trefor shouted. Sivlander held a hand up to silence his partner.

“Let me handle it, Tref,” Sivlander said. “Look, I get it. And here’s the thing; there’s not a thing we can do to stop you if you want to log out and leave us stranded here. You have all of the power, and so you’ve got to make a choice. Are you going to be a team player, a noble warrior who helps his allies in a time of need or are you going to be in this for yourself. I can’t, and I won’t, make any threats against you because, let’s face it, you’ve been playing with us for far too long for any of them to mean anything. Instead, I just ask you to do the right thing by us. We back each other up in this guild, no matter what it is.”

Samir let out a long sigh at that. “Yeah, we do, don’t we. Hell, you even declined fighting those three monsters alone because you wanted to be a bro. Alright, fine, let’s do this. I’ll charge in and die like a sucker. But I’d rather be a sucker than betray my brothers in arms.”

“Yes!” Sivlander said as he pumped his fist in the air. “Come on, team; let’s go find a crazy cult that will probably attack us after they give a long-winded speech about the new order.”

“Ten gold pieces says the leader cultist gets eaten by the Great Wyrm after his long-winded speech,” Trefor said as the team moved toward the large hole.

Sivlander checked the time. They had an hour left. Would they be able to kill it in enough time? As long as they skipped all of the dialogue with this cult, there would probably be a pretty big chance of them getting to the final encounter. After that, who knew?

They made their way to the hole in the wall and Germane stuck his head in and looked around. “There’s a steep drop,” Germane said. “This is probably the part where it’s gonna get real so I would suggest we all buff-up as much as we can. Sivlander, this means actually drinking your small horde of potions.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sivlander said as he opened up his inventory and began to drink a few of his health potions. That was the problem with resource management in a game. If he held onto his potions, he might be able to use them in a pinch, but there was also a big chance he would hold onto his potions for too long and would never get to use them when they were useful. He eyed a large potion that had been sitting in his bag for nearly two years. It was labelled Potion of Pure Rage. This potion was very powerful; it would give him a high bonus to his attack and give him damage resistance, as well as granting him the power to resist critical hits that would kill a lesser mortal. It was supremely powerful, but each time he wanted to drink it, he would wonder what the next encounter would be like. Now he was facing the same feeling. Of course, a once-a-year kind of quest might justify using such a rare and powerful item but he didn’t quite know if he wanted to waste it.

“Okay, I’m juiced-up more than a pro wrestler riding in the Tour de France,” Trefor said as he stretched his arms out. “Let’s go!”

“Alright, team. Remember, no surrender, no fear!” Sivlander said as he grabbed his sword and triumphantly charged into the hole. As he fell, he could feel the whipping of the wind around him. He realized that the drop was far steeper than he had anticipated. With a sigh, he quickly drank one of his potions of Soft Falling, cursing the fact that he hadn’t brought more. The purple energy wrapped around him as his descent slowed down to a gentle landing.

Sivlander touched ground in a large cavern that had skulls and bones scattered everywhere. There were pews with bright, red seats resting in the center of the room. Several people wearing scaled armor were kneeling on the pews, apparently praying. The words Cultist Level 40 hovered over their heads. The words were grey, meaning that they were neutral for right now, but Sivlander knew that it would only be a matter of time before they turned hostile.

“Check out the church services,” Samir said as he pointed to a man wearing scaled armor in the center of the room. He was loudly preaching and holding up a scepter. Upon his head looked like some kind of ceremonial head garb, complete with feathers sticking out of it. The words Cult Leader Level 45 hovered above his head, but like the others, he was also neutral.

“I hope there’s some kind of moral quandary for us to take here,” Germane said. “If we side with them, we’ll be able to skip the big battle and probably go right to the end of the quest.”

“We’re the good guys, remember?” Sivlander said. “We don’t do the whole evil thing.”

“Aw, why not?” Samir asked. “It’s way easier.”

“Because I like to be the hero, not the villain, and our guild is registered as Good,” Sivlander said. “Now let’s stop arguing and go talk to the cult guy.”

“Alright, fine,” Germane said as the four trudged over to meet the man in the center of the room. The Cult Leader had been talking the entire time and as they approached, he launched into his script.

“There is a darkness in this world, brothers and sisters!” he shouted as he waved the staff around. “This darkness is the greed and hatred of mankind! All races, be they human, elf, or dwarf are so concerned with material gain that they are willing to destroy one another! But it does not have to be like this! There is a chance to bring world peace! For if we awaken the Great Wyrm of Azern, it will bring destruction upon the surface dwellers! They will be obliterated and we shall return to a world without a leader! And we will become the greatest dwellers of the land, no longer warring with one another but bringing peace to all!”

“Praise be!” the cultists all shouted at the same time.

“Man, the sheer amount of voice acting in this game is incredible,” Samir muttered.

The Cult Leader turned his scepter and pointed it at the party. “And you! You come here to participate in our great ritual to awaken the monster? Or are you here to worship it so that you may find a great blessing in the new world?”

A dialogue menu popped up in front of Sivlander.

We’re here to stop you, foul cultist! Uhhh, we just got lost, how do we get out of here? Crazy death cult? Where do I sign up? We wish to join your cult to bring peace to the world!

“Pick the bad one!” Germane said. “It would be way, way faster!”

“Pick the last one,” Trefor advised. “That sounds like fun.”

“I’m gonna pick the one that just gets the fighting started,” Sivlander said as he clicked on the first option. The Cultists all stood up from their kneeling positions at once and looked at Sivlander and his team. They began drawing weapons and slowly approached.

“You wish to defeat us? You can never stop the ritual, for we shall awaken the Great Wyrm and set it free within this place, watching as it consumes the entire world!” the Cult Leader shouted as his name turned red. “Kill them! Kill the interlopers!”

“Well let’s get to fighting!” Sivlander said as he rushed the Cult Leader and swung with all of his might. His weapon passed right through the foe, however, and the words Illusion hovered above the Cult Leader’s head. The leader chuckled at the attack.

“You of little faith,” he said as he faded away. “Seeing is not everything!”

“Ah crap!” Sivlander shouted. He turned around to see that the rest of the fighting was going fairly well. The cultists weren’t very strong, of course. They were minions who had nice armor and fancy weapons but they were no match for the team. The biggest danger was the Cult Leader, who was probably in the middle of using an ancient ritual to summon the Wyrm. No matter what, Sivlander knew that the ancient dragon would be summoned, but maybe disrupting the cult leader would prevent the creature from having the highest amount of stats available.

Three cultists rushed up to Sivlander. These guys were armed with heavy maces and had wild and crazy looks in their eyes. For a moment, Sivlander actually felt a spike of fear as he gazed at the tattooed warriors. There was something really offsetting about them and he felt his stomach bundle up into a knot.

“Be careful, Siv,” Trefor shouted. “The ones with maces have auras of fear!”

Sivlander took his sword and swung at the first cultist but was quickly blocked by him. “Praise be to the dark being that writhes in the lava beneath the earth!” the cultist shrieked as he swung his own mace back at Sivlander. The blow cracked Sivlander on the head and the words 50 damage floated above him. That wasn’t too bad of a hit but the fact that he was surrounded by three of them meant trouble.

“I could use some help!” Sivlander shouted, but to no avail. It looked as if there were at least forty cultists covering the rest of the team. In some ways, he felt lucky to be only surrounded by three.

“Sorry,” Trefor shouted, “I can’t even move through these guys. They go down fast enough but for every one we kill, three more pop up!”

“Just keep killing them!” Sivlander replied as he ducked, narrowly avoiding another mace to the head. He stepped back and tried to ward them off but the terrible fear surrounding him made him feel queasy. His left foot buckled a little and he staggered forward, leaving an opening for one of the Doom Cultists to rush him and clock him right in the jaw.

“Ah crap!” Sivlander shouted as he took 50 more points of damage. If this kept adding up, he would be down in no time. Normally, he could defend himself pretty well but the fear aura was throwing him off. The haptic systems that he was wearing in order to play the game were firing at full force and he could feel anxiety rush through him in real life as well. It was a marvel at how complex these game systems were. Sometimes it was breathtaking. Of course, in this situation, Van the player was actually short of breath due to the terror coursing through his veins.

“You will be a blood sacrifice for our death god!” the Doom Cultists all said at the exact same time as they moved around him to flank him.

Sivlander kept his sword raised high and reached with his left hand to pull out an axe that was hanging from his leg. With dual wielding, he would be a lot less accurate but at least he would be able to defend in two directions at once. He swung them wildly, but with the reduced accuracy and the fear effect, he wasn’t doing a very good job of fending them off.

“I got you, bro!” Germane shouted as he charged through a horde of cultists with his shield raised high. He ran right next to Sivlander and held his shield up to block the flurry of blows that were coming in Sivlander’s direction. The maces went ping ping ping against the shield but Germane stood firm.

“Thanks for the help, soldier!” Sivlander said as he advanced forward and hacked away at one of the cultists. His blow finally connected and the words Hit 150 damage appeared over his head. The cultist fell to the ground, dead.

“Nice! Two more!” Sivlander shouted as he turned his attention to the two who were busy trying to push past the large tower shield that was holding them back.

“I feel kind of weird,” Germane said. “Like I’m having a panic attack. OH THE HORROR!” he screamed suddenly. Dark tendrils of magic were surging from the hands of the Doom Cultists who had pulled back and were now casting a spell on Germane. The short warrior couldn’t handle the magic and began to run away from the entire fight.

“Come back!” Sivlander shouted.

“I’m under a fear effect!” Germane shouted. “And my haptic systems are overloading me! Holy crap! This is terrifying!”

“Ah crap,” Sivlander said as the two cultists advanced towards him to kill him. He tried to swing at them again but the aura was growing stronger and his vision was starting to fade in and out. How powerful was this fear spell?

“Trefor, use your paladin magic to cure our fear!” Sivlander said.

“I’d love to if I had any free limbs at the moment!” Trefor shouted. Sivlander glanced over real quick to see that Trefor was being grappled by ten cultists at the same time. His health was still pretty high, as he had some protection spells going, but it was enough to take him out. Samir was nowhere to be seen.

“Samir, some help?” Sivlander shouted.

“The wizard’s also running due to fear,” Trefor said.

“Why is this game so mean to us?” Sivlander shouted as he ducked, narrowly avoiding yet another mace to the skull. The fear effect was far too powerful for him to overcome alone. His character had a lot of powerful defenses but they were mostly physical or elemental defenses. Something like mental magic was one of his weaknesses since a warrior didn’t have very strong willpower. Maybe he needed to switch things up.

Sivlander rushed away from the Doom Cultists and charged the horde that had surrounded Trefor. Using his Cleaving Swing ability, he cut through six of them in a single blow, killing them instantly.

“Finally! I’m free!” Trefor said as he rushed next to Van. They stood back to back, hacking against the horde of crazed cultists that were wearing dragon scale armor.

“My aura of confidence should protect you from fear as long as you’re next to me,” Trefor said, “but anything more than ten feet and it will deactivate.”

“That’s plenty of range; just move with me,” Sivlander said as he began to sidestep toward the Doom Cultists. They were still alive and the fear spell was still influencing Germane who was running in circles in the center of the room. Samir was hiding behind the altar, unable to move from his position.

They reached the Doom Cultists who began to shout once again, but fortunately Van was no longer prey to their terrible magics. With a single blow, he was able to slice one clean in half. The other one didn’t stand much of a chance either. He cut the last one down and turned his attention to the rest of the Cultists. They fought hard and dozens of the foes were dispatched, but they just kept on coming.

Sivlander grimaced once he realized that the easily-killable foe was probably set on some kind of infinite spawn timer. The only way to kill them permanently was probably to take out their leader, who had just vanished in a puff of smoke. Still, if enough of the cultist generated, there would be enough to completely overpower the team, as there didn’t seem to be a cap on the number of cultists fighting at a time. With a heavy sigh, Sivlander realized that they had to split up.

“You guys take care of these cultists, I’m gonna look for the leader!” Sivlander said as he rushed off from the team.

“More fun for us!” Trefor bellowed as he continued to fight against the horde.

Sivlander made his way past the altar and searched around frantically. There had to be some kind of sign of where the true Cult Leader was. If he was using an illusion to hide his presence, that meant he had to be in the middle of the ritual. As Sivlander searched, he noticed that there was a bright red door on the right of the cavern. The door was made out of steel and had a few skulls hanging from it. This was probably where the Cult Leader was residing. He glanced back to see that more cultists had arrived to fight against his team. The health of the crew was still pretty high so Sivlander knew that they would be okay. He took a deep breath and used his Doorbreaker skill to kick the door down in a single, powerful blow.