It’s late; the sun went down an hour ago. After a long and detour filled journey, at last the map indicates we’re nearing our destination.

  “There’s something that’s been bothering me about this quest,” I confide to Sherbie as I examine the quest description on the side of the map. “Listen to what it says here: Go to the cultist camp in Everglen, find the source of their evil magic and report back. How are we supposed to do that? Do we infiltrate their number or something? Do we need disguises? Or are we just supposed to clear them all and sift through the rubble for clues?”

  “You worry too much,” he assures me.

  “You don’t worry enough,” I comment, eying him sideways as he starts to chase idly after a moth. “I’ve never met anyone as carefree as you. Haven’t you ever heard of the ant and the grasshopper? If you’re not careful, you’ll end up just like that grasshopper.”

  “Impossible,” he assures me. “Why does this grasshopper have to worry about building a house and storing up for winter when he already lives in a mansion stocked with caviar and champagne?”

  Ugh. As a fellow rich boy, I find Sherbie’s attitude towards money almost insufferable at times. Maybe it’s because my parents started with nothing, but they would never spend as though there were no end to our money. They still handle our finances with the same shrewdness and caution they showed in the beginning of their ventures, a value they instilled in me as well. My allowance was enormous, of course, but it wasn’t limitless. I still had to budget it.

  “Anyway, about the quest, don’t worry about it. The game will make it clear what we’re supposed to do when we get there.”

  I mean, he’s probably right. But he’s still way too carefree, I think with a shake of my head.

  We leave the main path, making for the glen. I notice more players in these woods the nearer we come to our destination, as all those that fanned out and found interesting side quests congregate once more around this integral plot point. In polite gamer fashion, we ignore each other, so that each goes about their business undisturbed, no one spoiling the quest chain for anyone else. And so it is I feel startled when a group appears before us suddenly in matching uniforms.

  NPCs, I realize after a moment of initial panic for fear I might have to converse with another human being. After my utter humiliation in Pitola, I’m not quite ready to talk with actual people, just yet.

  These NPCs are soldiers, I decide, noting on their arms a tied scarf of light blue and green, the same colors Captain Moon was wearing. Their leader is a female half orc with an intimidating presence. Her dreads are black, caught up in a ponytail at the nape of her neck; they reach halfway down her back. Her face is square and dark, her skin is a shade of deep reddish purple and crisscrossed with dark, rope-like scars.

  A quick inspection of her character gives her the name Lieutenant Brockduk.

  “What are you doing in this part of the forest?” she demands in a gruff voice, her speech slightly distorted by the tusks poking out through her lips. “You don’t look like cultists.”

  “We’re not,” I begin, but Sherbie quickly takes over for me, slipping happily into full role play immersion.

  “We are here on assignment from Silas in Pitola. He asked us to locate the source of the cultist’s power and report back to him. In the meantime, he’s going to assemble a militia—”

  “Absurd,” she cuts him off. “A civilian military will be wiped out by these demons. Return to Pitola. Tell this Silas to abandon such foolish notions.”

  She’s refusing outside help just like that? Without even consulting her superior officer? I find that a tad suspicious. Evidently I’m on the right track, as the game quickly hammers the point home.

  “Lieutenant,” one of the soldiers speaks up. “Perhaps we shouldn’t be so hasty to dismiss backup. The colonel—”

  “Did I ask for your opinion?” she snarls at him, but he doesn’t back down.

  “I’m sorry, Lieutenant. It’s just, with Captain Moon missing—”

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  “Insubordination!” she punctuates her shout with a rough manhandling of the soldier’s uniform as she throttles him, lifting him partway off the ground with her enormous strength. “Ten lashes, Drayer. And you’ll take both watches tonight—and march all day tomorrow, is that clear?”

  “Yes, Ma’am,” he says sharply, and she throws him away. He falls quickly back in line, gaze cast down, clearly biting his tongue.

  “Anyone else have any comments?” she challenges her soldiers, but they say nothing. “Good,” she snorts. “As for you—”

  “Captain Moon is missing?”

  I am astounded Sherbie found the courage to speak in this woman’s presence, much less query her on such an obviously sensitive subject.

  “That is Cello Army business. My subordinate spoke out of turn, forget you heard that,” she says with a fierce snarl. “Now, abandon this foolish quest and be on your way back to Pitola. Leave this business with the cultists to the officers of the 9th division of the Queen’s Infantry.”

  “But Captain Moon is a friend of ours, if he’s missing—”

  “I said begone!” she roars with all the primal ferocity of her orc blood, not to mention the authority of her rank, to which Sherbie yelps and scrambles away, leaving me alone to face the fearsome Lieutenant. I am less intimidated. After facing the minotaur, one power tripping half orc hardly seems something to get nervous about. I’m confident I could take the whole lot of them in my aura, should it come down to a fight. Though really, I have no intention of fighting.

  “Ma’am, I’m afraid we’ve gotten a bit turned around in these woods. Could you spare one of your unit to see us safely back on the right path?”

  She makes no efforts to conceal her disgust with us, nor her annoyance with our perceived ineptitude. But she does want us gone, so she proceeds to send the solder who got on her bad side before off on the troublesome task. Just as I was hoping.

  “Drayer. Show them the way back. Then report back to camp for discipline.”

  “Yes, Lieutenant Brockduk!”

  “This way, you two,” he says grimly, and starts to lead us back in the opposite direction. We walk with him a ways until I’m sure our act will fool the lieutenant.

  “Drayer, just a minute.”

  “What is it?”

  “We’re friends of Captain Moon. If anything has happened to him, you must tell us.”

  “Look, I’m in enough trouble with Brockduk already.”

  “She’s your superior officer, not ours. Whatever you say here stays between us, and whatever orders they’re holding you to don’t apply to us. Give us the details on Captain Moon’s disappearance, and we’ll do everything we can to bring him back.”

  Drayer is torn. I sense he’s truly a loyal and devoted soldier. But his concern for the captain, and his loyalty to what he feels is right is greater still.

  “Look, all I know is he never returned from killing the cockatrice.”

  “But we slew that beast—we assisted him ourselves,” Sherbie says, once more fully immersed and deeply invested in the story. “He gave us his shield as reward, show him, Rev!”

  “It’s true,” I say, pulling one of the shields from my pack. “He was perfectly fine when we last saw him, about fifteen hours ago.”

  “Perhaps he got turned around in the woods,” Sherbie suggests.

  Drayer shakes his head. “He wouldn’t have gotten lost, the captain’s sense of direction is too good. Something—or someone—must have ambushed him.”

  “The occultists?”

  “Perhaps. But I suspect the lieutenant. She’s starving for a promotion, but keeps getting overlooked for her violent displays of temper. Last time, Captain Moon gave her a write up—she’s definitely got a grudge. And she disappeared just before lunch, too. No one could find her for forty minutes. She said she was just scouting, but…”

  “Well, let’s not jump to any conclusions. For now, we’ll keep an eye out for Captain Moon’s trail. You’d better get back, Drayer. And don’t worry. If anyone asks, you led us safely to the trail, and we immediately got lost again.”

  “Right,” he smiles a little, and reaches out a hand to clap my arm. “Thank you, my friends. I’ll leave the rest in your capable hands.” Then he turns, and disappears into the night.

  [Hidden quest unlocked.

  Would you like to accept quest: Find Captain Moon?

  Reward: Unknown]

  “Hidden quest!” Sherbie exclaims. “We’re taking it, right?”

  “Of course.”

  “But what about our other quest? The Root of Evil? The scary lady told us to abandon it.”

  “So she did. But it hasn’t changed,” I point out, double checking the quest log. It’s still here in spite of our encounter with the lieutenant who told us to forget about bringing back the militia.

  “We should have gotten more information from those soldiers,” Sherbie says with a frown. “We have no idea who they even are or what they’re doing here.”

  “They’re with Captain Moon, obviously. Didn’t you ever bother to ask him who he was working for? Not on any of your quests together?”

  “Ah… I guess I didn’t…”

  I smirk. Though I shouldn’t be too hard on him, since I didn’t ask either.

  “Captain Moon wasn’t a suspicious guy like that lady was!” Unaware of my thoughts, Sherbie is determined to defend himself.

  “No, but they’re both working for the same ‘colonel.’ What did she say, Cello Army, 9th division of the Queen’s Infantry?”

  “That sounds important.”

  “So it does. More important than a mere local problem with a handful of militant tree huggers.”

  “But what’s the queen’s army doing here?”

  “That’s the question,” I say thoughtfully. “I suspect it has something to do with this ‘source of power’ we were sent to investigate.”

  “You think they’re looking for it too?”

  “I think that’s entirely possible. But what for? To stomp it out? Or to make some kind of unholy alliance with it?”

  “Somehow I don’t like the sound of that.”

  “No,” I say with a frown. “Me neither…”