Dakkon didn’t deliberate for long before trying to pour hot and cold air from the pinky and thumb of his right hand. If he couldn’t do it, then he couldn’t do it and that would be the end of it. By condensing the heat and cold as he manipulated the angle of his fingers, he could manage a small cyclone. After a bit of fiddling around—and a surprising amount of joint pain from keeping his fingers in specific, rigid postures for a time—he had managed it. Still, four condensed hotspots powerful enough to create two whirlwinds with the requisite kick to flip whatever trigger needed triggering or tumbler that needed tumbling would probably take every point of mana he had and then some.
Dakkon allowed his mana to fill to full, placed his left hand over the middle hole on the left side of the door and his right hand over the top hole on the right—locations he had chosen completely at random—and breathed in deeply to steel himself against the second most brazen thing he’d tried today behind jumping on and riding a massive snake through the treetops.
“All right, let’s get some mileage out of this luck stat,” he thought, preparing himself. Dakkon condensed his mana and poured it out thickly. Gusts of wind spiraled from his fingertips, counter-clockwise from his left and clockwise from his right. He felt the chill of rapidly expending mana run from his spine to his extremities. Then he heard a loud, deep whistling noise. The slab of rock didn’t move. He had chosen incorrectly.
Dakkon could hear the shuffling of boots at the end of the corridor. The fuel of two torches burst into dancing flame, and the burly forms of several armed guards cluttered Dakkon’s only avenue of escape.
“Hello,” Dakkon called out to his potential captors. “I take it this isn’t the way to the toilet.”
The guards didn’t respond save for moving forward to apprehend him. Dakkon decided now was not the time or place to fight back. The guards led him down the path labeled ‘Lounge,’ extinguishing their torches and leaving them in a large iron brazier.
When Dakkon exited the tunnel, he found himself in a land of luxury unlike anything he had ever experienced. Following the left wall—dark hardwood adorned with simple but elegant carvings and grand paintings—led to a room with large tables, patrons dining, and scurrying chefs in white culinary attire. The guards led Dakkon to the right, which brought them to a wide, forking pathway; the left fork teemed with painstakingly cultivated flowering bushes, trellises, and at least two visible ponds. The right path, which they continued down, slowly transformed into a more arid, desert-tropical setting which might have made the atmosphere feel relaxed and less exclusive if every little detail had not been so precisely groomed. Dakkon was not in his element.
The new area seemed to be styled in the fashion of a god-king pharaoh’s personal oasis retreat. Ahead lay a structure of four massive, tiered infinity pools which stacked upon each other, climbing the side of a hill. The layers of the seemingly edgeless pools were filled with slowly flowing, opalescent waters which cascaded in thin sheets over the side into the tiered pools below. The largest and lowest pool was on ground level, the next tier around a meter higher. The structure appeared like a pyramid formed of slowly moving water—with a square of black stone at each corner which were apparently used for lounging with a view, as evidenced by chairs alongside large, tan sun umbrellas.
The bottom-most pool was in use by men and women, both players and some NPCs. There was a noticeable shortage of clothing in the pool, which drew Dakkon’s eyes and off balanced him further. Surrounding the massive, functional sculpture that was the water pyramid, were statue gardens formed to the theme of Egyptian gods. Dakkon had never seen such a display of wealth and the whole situation put him on edge.
The guards pulled Dakkon to the feet of an oversized lounge chair, on the corner of the pyramid, with a frame made of lightly-colored wood and formed by a breathable canvas material. The chair was on the stone step a meter up from where he now stood, nearly level with the next pool tier. The guards parted and stood behind Dakkon.
A man, seated in the chair, adjusted his shaded glasses and asked, “And who have we caught trying to sneak into my vault?” The man in the chair’s name was not visible, which Dakkon realized must be due to his partially obstructed facial features. A guard stepped up from behind Dakkon and pulled his hood down, exposing his face.
“Ah, Dakkon,” said the man. “I wasn’t expecting you so soon.” The man tilted his bespectacled head appraisingly. “You know wind magic, too?” the man muttered in confusion. His face lit up. “Ah, forgive my poor manners,” he waved the guards away with a flick of his wrist and pulled his sunglasses from his face, revealing a floating blue nametag above his head.
“My name is Gullen, welcome to my little paradise.”
“You seem to know of me already,” said Dakkon in a voice that was less steady than he had expected it to be.
“That I do, my friend. I have heard very interesting stories about you.” Gullen turned to a lone servant who had been standing nearby in case his master needed service and said, “Go and fetch Azizi.” The servant turned and left immediately.
“Is that so?” asked Dakkon, cautiously.
“It is. I’ve heard that you are a capable fighter, a talented mage, and a clever opportunist. All while being only level 24.”
Dakkon was somewhat perturbed. A player’s character level was not publicly available information, though it can be checked once you group with another player. As far as he knew, that meant one of his recent party members must have shared the information. It didn’t exactly feel like a betrayal, but the open revelation that Gullen had such specific information about him made the powerful stranger seem slimy.
“I see you know me… well,” said Dakkon.
“Not well enough,” said Gullen. “You have the spark of ambition. I like that. I want the best players on my team, you see. It keeps everyone honest.”
If it were an NPC reclining before Dakkon, then it would probably feel like he was about to be offered some sort of quest. Instead, the few words exchanged felt as though the man in front of him wanted to keep Dakkon under his thumb.
“What did you have in mind?” asked Dakkon.
“Straight to the point? I like that, too. Before I get to the meat of things, however, I must ask a question of my associate, Azizi. For now, relax and enjoy the view I’ve created. It’s spectacular here, no?”
Dakkon did as he was requested. He likely owed Gullen that much after Dakkon’s attempt on the vault—even though he didn’t realize it was a vault he was trying to enter. All things considered, that could have gone a lot worse for him. It was entirely possible that Dakkon was jumping the gun when it came to labeling Gullen’s character.
The two looked out over the flowing pools and swimming people as they sat in silence. Letis tried to hail him telepathically, but Dakkon shook his head—denying the message. He wanted to be free of distractions for whatever it was that he was getting himself into. Though seated at a conversational angle where it would be easy to look at the other’s face and talk, neither Dakkon nor Gullen drew their focus away from the waters in front of them while they waited.
A few minutes later, an NPC wearing white robes appeared from a path behind Gullen which connected to the hill set against the back side of the pyramid. Dakkon presumed this was the man they had been waiting for: Azizi. Gullen turned to Azizi and bid the man lean near to him. Gullen spoke a few words in Azizi’s ear and the robed man straightened his back, then nodded.
Azizi walked in front of Dakkon and, without a word of salutation, began to wave his hands slowly through the air as he chanted in a low tone.