The carriage rocked as Maynard felt his clothing slowly dry from the heat on his body. Tommy moaned in the corner as he slept, his seared arm and leg wrapped in cloth strip bandages created from a spare shirt that Philippe had stored in his own inventory. The carriage was quiet, but the mood was heavy.
As the rough road bounced them towards the college, Maynard stared at his mission screen.
The mission screen painted a picture of mixed results, but primarily leant towards success, however that was not what Maynard dwelt on. Instead, he stared firmly at the red letters that consumed his mind, dictating and reminding him of his failures in the Durley mine. The professor was dead. Adam was dead. Callum was dead. The creature that had followed them out of the mine had carved chunks out of all of them, and it left a mark deep on the psyche of the three survivors.
The lamp that hung in the ceiling of the carriage gave off a soft, orange light that helped Maynard feel safer, yet he still felt apprehensive at the darkness outside. Even the light of the waning moon was no comfort. The only thing he could do was mull over what he had received from the encounter with the living shadow, or as the mission screen seemed to imply, the ‘Sheyud Wraithling‘.
With a flick of his wrist, he dismissed the mission screen and brought out his inventory.
This itinerary was sparse, but it was still curious for him to look at. As he gazed at the slightly transparent screen, the image of his inventory proper was projected into his head. It was a cluttered box that was rammed full of the loot that he had desperately fought for – using intelligence, courage and more than a little luck.
As he thought about the so-called ‘loot boxes’ that sat in his inventory, Maynard glanced at Tommy in the hopes that the more experienced Ringbearer might wake up and be able to provide him with advice. Unfortunately his hopes were continuously dashed. Tommy stirred slightly in his sleep, but he did not respond at all to Maynard’s silent plea for help.
As he was being snubbed by the unconscious man, Maynard pulled out one of the boxes and held it in front of him. Philippe looked over and asked, “What’s that?”
“I’m not really sure,” Maynard replied, “I found it when I was cleaning up the bodies left behind by the wraithling.” He paused, “The shadow beast. I think it might be a reward for killing the creature, but I have yet to touch it. I honestly don’t know what will come out of it, which was why I was trying to kind of will Tommy out of his unconscious state to give me some kind of answer, but as you can see…” He waved at Tommy’s body as he trailed off, still slumbering in the corner of the carriage.
“Yeah, I get it,” Philippe replied, jumping slightly as the carriage hopped over a bump in the road. The lamp swung above their heads and caused their shadows to stretch and twist in ways that made Maynard’s head swim, but he kept hold of himself, focusing on his proof of victory.
“Anyway, I’m gonna open this, and we can both see what happens. Perhaps it’s a loot box,” Maynard said with a chuckle. He ran his fingers over the box, and after a moment discovered a seam that he could push. With a flick of his hands the box sprung open, collapsing into a thin, grey-black, silk-like cloth and a single, shadowy claw that sat at half the length of Maynard’s forearm. For a moment, both Maynard and Philippe simply stared at the objects that had come out of the small box, but as the carriage went over a bump in the road the claw began falling out of Maynard’s hand, and they were both shaken out of their stupor. The claw rolled out of Maynard’s hand, bounced and landed at Tommy’s feet – however Tommy stayed comatose.
“I guess I was right…” As the carriage continued to rock, Maynard sighed and said to Philippe, “You know what?”
“What?”
“I think Tommy can have that claw if he ever wakes up. Perhaps he’ll be able to use it to make knives to replace the ones he lost in the fight. I don’t have any room in my storage anyway, my shield and quest items take up too much space.”
“Quest items? I thought you had the same mission as me and Tommy…” Philippe replied, his face paling as he came to recall the task he had been sent into the world to do.
“I lied,” Maynard replied glibly, “But don’t worry, when I was hiding the body of the professor I made sure to leave all the work we made in a puddle. It’ll be pulp by the morning.”
Some level of stress seemed to instantly leave Philippe’s body as Maynard revealed that he no longer had to worry about failure, but as the two returned to silence while looking at the cloth that Maynard held firmly in his grip, a sense of curiosity seemed to envelop the Mediterranean man. He began tapping his left hand rapidly with his right, as if holding in some kind of forbidden question. At first Maynard tried to ignore it, focusing on the odd weightlessness of the cloth in his hands, but as the tapping got faster Maynard kept finding his eyes drawn to the movement. Eventually he could take no more and said, “What?”
“I don’t know if I should ask,” Philippe replied.
“Why?” Maynard snapped back.
“It just seems rude. I wanted to know what your mission was, but you obviously had reason to hide it, so…”
“Oh don’t worry,” Maynard said as Philippe trailed off, “The reason I lied about my mission was because of Adam’s hostility to me once I told him what my ability was. It was actually a pretty simple task all things considered, I just had to find a specific type of ore and considering I had never even heard of the name of the metal before, I had to assume it would be either in the crypt we were going to or that ominous monastery on the hilltop. I followed my gut and found it down in the crypt.”
“And because of this ore you have a full inventory?”
“It’s a chunk of rock the size of my chest. With my shield as well? Yeah basically. I could probably fit some small trinkets like coins, or the box I got the claw and cloth out of, but the vast majority of things aren’t going to fit inside. A meter cubed is not a massive amount of space.”
“What about the cloth?”
“I’ll wrap it round my shield, but I’m keeping it. I need some kind of reward for killing the monster, you know? I just hope that it was the only thing that was living in that hole.”
Philippe nodded in response before flinching as the carriage hit another bump and the lantern began swaying again, making the shadows dance and twist like they were alive. Maynard took this moment to put the cloth back into his inventory and the two returned to their awkward silence.
The silence stretched out for minutes and Maynard’s attention gradually left the room, returning to the shadowy world that existed just beyond their carriage walls. The three of them were effectively imprisoned in a cage of light, but for Maynard and Philippe, it was far better than the alternative. The carriage continued to rock well into the night, Phillipe continued to jump at shadows and Maynard continued to stare into the inky grey painting that was just beyond the wooden barriers protecting them from the darkness. At some point Philippe curled up into a ball, as if trying to make sure that as little of his body could make a shadow as possible.
