The Heart is a Void: Ashes to Ashes - Chapter 156: Sick Burn
As Cael looked for the [Cleric] sub-class trainer, he heard some commotion from the North of Kruxol.
Walking over, he could see Dr1fter emerging from the Northern trees, covered in leaves and dirt from what looked like a long journey. Vladislav was already waiting, having received advanced notice.
Presumably, Dr1fter was returning from wherever he had triggered the world event before. The choice of destination made sense, since the area around Kruxol would be less likely to contain many high-level opponents. From the looks of it, he needed a rest.
However, he wasn’t going to get one just yet. Although his approach was quite secretive, a small band of level 56-57 players had overheard him and tentatively surrounded him. They formed a tight ring around him, hoping to gain the famous scalp of a Hashin leader.
One was charging a bright [Fireball] in front of his chest, keeping his blue-grey eyes fixed on Dr1fter.
However, Dr1fter stood still, looking at the crowd around him as if underwhelmed.
As the [Fireball] reached its maximum power, glowing brilliantly across the faces of the assembled group, the Pyromancer prepared to release it. The rest of the group, who were remaining still in order to prevent Dr1fter breaking free in a fracas, readied themselves to pile in when the spell hit.
However, instead there was a loud cry from the Pyromancer, who followed it up with a louder squeal as he hastily dispelled the flames and dropped to the ground covered by black char marks across his chest and legs. Dr1fter had activated the [Wheel of Fortune] Tarot card, and the flames had burned the Pyromancer himself.
Dr1fter immediately took advantage of the gap in the circle of players, leaping over the Pyromancer and vaulting towards Kruxol. He cast [Stealth Cloak], and snaked past a few players who had rushed out from Kruxol to intercept him.
As he reappered, he was struck by one arrow in the shoulder from a level 30 player, but shrugged it off. A Hashin Mage surged to the front of the crowd in Kruxol and cast a 5-second shield on Dr1fter, which deflected away a hail of arrows cast after him.
Soon, he had reached the town.
Vladislav was waiting on the town’s edge beside the Mage, preparing to help if Dr1fter had to fight his way to the town. However, he calmed down as he saw Dr1fter walk up beside him.
Dr1fter casually patted him on the shoulder and told him to stop being so excitable, then led the group into town.
As the three Hashin pushed their way through the crowd, they were met with a volley of insults and invective. However, they ignored this and talked amongst themselves, although Cael couldn’t hear what they were saying above the crowd’s noise.
As he watched, he was interrupted by a dwarfish, loudmouthed man beside him.
“Hey, lad, this whole town’s going to hell, eh? First DeathGang, now there’s Hashin here too!”
This bespectacled man’s nametag read [Dwimothy]. Although he was clearly panicked, he kept his tone light as if he was just trying to strike up conversation and the town’s recent struggles were an interesting curiosity.
Cael smiled and played along with Dwimothy’s light-hearted tone, even though he found this bespectacled dwarf slightly grotesque. “Yes, but what if they fight each other? Then they’ll leave the rest of us alone, no?”
“Ha, that’d be swell! But tell you what, have you heard the stories about the Hashin? They’re terrifying, you know. Reminds me of, my grandpappy used to tell me stories about the Nazis, how they would do all kinds of terrible things without blinking. Lots of them were ordinary people too, what a world!”
“He told you that? Where are you from?”
“The family’s Scottish and Welsh, but they lived round Ukraine and Poland back then! It was a bad experience, haw haw, now we’re back in Scotland.”
“Huh, so your family were around the Eastern front? Crazy place. Yeah, all sorts of ordinary men committing atrocities there. The Soviets too -”
“Oh, yeah, I heard all about that too. Nobody there that you could trust. Such awful scenes.”
He seemed slightly muted, since he clearly enjoyed talking about his own experiences more than about history or politics. Cael, for his part, didn’t mind the dwarf’s sudden quietness, since his earlier boisterous, loud voice had been painful to the ear.
“Uh huh. I’m also from there. I’ve heard all sorts of stories, even from the more recent wars. War shows a different side of people, that much is clear.”
“Yeah, that’s true -”
He cut off his sentence as soon as he saw the Hashin walking nearby, making their way through the crowd only a few metres away. The dwarfish man ran up to them and started shouting, clearly excited about making a scene.
“Why’d you have to come here for? I told your friends, go away, you’re not welcome here! We don’t like yer kind!”
Dr1fter sighed and walked on, but Vladislav squared up to the man.
“You should have learned from your Guild leader, he died messing with us. You want to join him?”
“You’re just frauds and cheats, we’re not scared of you!”
“But you’re scared of answering a question?”
Dr1fter called out loudly, ushering Vladislav onwards. “Come on, Vlad, don’t discourage him! Let him fight us, then his corpse will not be such a bother.”
On hearing this, Vladislav walked on, as he and Dr1fter headed towards the inn to rest.
Dwimothy shrank back into the crowd, but looked deflated and didn’t say much. His Guild tag read [Bastion], a Guild that had been made on the second day of the game by small players in the area looking to help each other out. Cael could dimly hear him saying something about the weather being too hot, but ignored him.
Instead, Cael strained to overhear what the Hashin were talking about. Since they were passing by, he could catch a few snippets of conversation.
“I swear, Bastion noobs?” Dr1fter said. “The hell, it’s been days since I last saw those jokers. Now I don’t know whether to feel pity or horror, I guess both.”
“Yeah, Kruxol isn’t for the faint-hearted,” Vladislav replied.
“I know, all the worthless refuse collects here. Maybe DeathGang will clear it up someday, but they have their own dumbasses too. Can’t wait to get out… But we all need to rest first.”
The next few sentences were inaudible.
“So with Awdi injured, his supporters are sure coming out of the woodwork. Those guys think you did it,” Vladislav remarked after a few seconds. “I mean, you injured him.”
“I heard some even saying it was you,” Dr1fter laughed. “See, you are a minor celebrity in this Guild now.”
“Maybe one day I’ll be a big-shot like you. By the way, you have any idea what happened to Awdi? He’s keeping mum on it, and his friends have been quiet too.”
“Maybe it was something embarrassing,” Dr1fter said. “Otherwise, he wouldn’t make such a big cover-up. But I’m sure someone will know, he always has some lackeys by his side and they must have saw. We’ll have to see if they squeal.”
“Some of his guys are also making up stories about how you double-crossed him, leaving him to die, and he heroically survived against a Stranded Guild leader. All lies, of course, but it makes him sound like Hercules!”
Dr1fter guffawed. “It is ridiculous. But those guys always do this, whenever Awdimir does something they try to paint him as an ancient Greek hero. If he speaks, he is giving oratory like Mark Anthony, and if he fights he is Achilles. But it is impossible. Awdimir is the archetypal modern success story: scammer, streamer, attention-seeker, cult of personality. But someone so modern will never be an ancient hero. The ancients sacrificed a thousand ships for Helen of Troy, but moderns sacrificed Bud Light for Dylan Mulvaney. The gap between us is as vast as you would imagine.”
“Yeah. But what’s weird is, he was never known for being a good gamer when streaming. He was more of a casual that talked loudly, but not really good at playing… Male equivalent of a girl gamer.”
Dr1fter laughed loudly for a few seconds, then finally calmed down enough to speak. “Yes, that’s exactly what he is. Sometimes you express things so well, Vladislav.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Well, I think you are right, he must be receiving direct assistance from someone. But he hides it well. I wonder how he will do that now, since he can’t use his main character. Well, we’ll see. But first, here is an annoying bug.”
A level 28 player, who looked about 15 years old, had jumped in front of Dr1fter and began chanting, “I SAW WHAT YOU DID TO THE PYROMANCER! BET YOU CAN’T EXPLAIN IT! CHEATER! CHEATER! CHEATER!” He continued repeating this word loudly about 15 times.
Dr1fter stopped and looked on with a bemused expression, before finally walking forwards and lightly elbowing the boy out of the way.
He turned his head and spoke calmly. “Look, it is easy to explain! In one of Nabokov’s works is the phrase, ‘Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins.’ I did not cheat, your Pyromancer friend thought of Lolita while he was casting the spell, and that is why he has burns on his legs. But maybe this is something an ignorant kid like you wouldn’t understand.”
“CHEATER! CHEATER! CHEATER! CHEATER!”
“When adults speak you must be silent.”
Dr1fter walked off, leading his two Hashin compatriots. Soon, the crowd began to thin, and even the kid ran short of breath and sank to the ground holding his hands to his chest and struggling to breathe. Dwimothy had joined a small group of three males and two females, who were seemingly conspiring about what to do to get back at the Hashin.
Veering away from the crowd, Cael began to search for the Cleric trainer again.
