“OK,” I said, getting to my feet. “Just give me a second. I want to call Faisal and confirm that Aech’s vital signs are OK, and check on Shoto’s status again too.”
She nodded and I placed the call to Faisal. But he didn’t answer. I let it ring until the call rolled to voicemail, then I hung up and turned back around to face Art3mis. She had her avatar’s inventory open on her HUD and was scrolling through a long list of magic items.
“Do you have Angrist in your inventory?” she asked. “Or Angainor?”
She produced a long, curved Elven knife from her inventory. Then she took out a chain made of some sort of glowing metal and held it up too.
I shook my head. A second later, my HUD helpfully informed me that Angrist was a knife that could cleave iron “as if it were green wood.” And I learned that Angainor was a chain forged by “Aulë to be stronger than all other chains.” It was made of an unbreakable alloy known as tilkal.
“Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t have time to pick either of them up on my way here.”
Art3mis handed me the knife, then equipped the chain on her belt.
“Can I see the Fifth Shard?” she asked.
I held it out, and we both reread the inscription:
Win her hand through a feat of dark renown
The last two shards are set in Morgoth’s Crown
“It’s a trick, Z,” she said. “Don’t try to cut more than one Silmaril from Morgoth’s Crown—no matter how easy it looks. If you do, the knife will break, and you’ll awaken Morgoth and all of his minions. Then we’ll have Gothmog and Glaurung coming down on us, along with a host of Orcs, wargs, werewolves, vampires, and Balrogs, all led by Ancalagon the Black. Beren makes the same mistake in The Silmarillion.”
I let out a sigh of frustration.
“I did try to read it, you know,” I said. “But I couldn’t. It reminded me too much of you.”
She studied my face for a moment, then she smiled.
“What’s your avatar’s alignment these days, ace?” she asked me.
“It’s still Chaotic Good,” I replied. “Why?”
“Because if your alignment is any brand of evil, the Silmaril will burn your hand and you won’t be able to pick it up.”
“Good to know,” I said, locking eyes with her. “I’m really glad you’re here, Arty. Thank you for coming.”
She raised her chin up at the towering peaks of Angband looming above us. “Og and Kira were the ones who originally re-created Beren and Lúthien’s adventures here on Arda. They designed and coded this quest together. It’s insanely difficult. No one has ever managed to complete it. Including me. In fact, it’s the only quest on this planet that I haven’t completed. I’ve never even attempted it.”
“Why not?” I asked.
“Because it’s a two-person quest, Z,” she said. “And I always wanted to complete it with you….”
“Then I ruined everything,” I said. “I know. I’m sorry. It was my fault. This is all my fault.”
“It’s gonna be OK,” she said, grinning at me. “We’re going to complete this quest now, Watts. You and me.”
“All right,” I said. “Just tell me what to do, and what not to do. I’ll follow your lead.”
She started to smile—but then it morphed into a worried frown.
“You’re starting to twitch, Z,” she said. “Are you feeling OK?”
She reached out and took both of my hands in hers. That was when I noticed that they were trembling. And that I couldn’t make them stop. I also realized that I was grinding my teeth, and I was starting to feel like I had a migraine headache coming on….
“Synaptic Overload Syndrome,” I said. “The symptoms are starting to set in. And it’s only going to get worse, so let’s keep moving. No one else can collect the last two shards except me, Arty.”
She stared at me in silence for a moment, then nodded.
“You sure you’re ready?”
“I feel fantastic!” I lied. “Now that you’re here, I have a very positive attitude about all this.”
She smiled. Then she opened her inventory again and took out a beautiful Mithril helmet cast in the shape of a dragon’s head, and covered with jewels and precious gems.
“Here,” she said, handing the helm to me. “Put this on. It’s the Dragon-helm of Dor-lómin. It will protect you in combat and prevent you from being poisoned by the cursed weapons of the Great Enemy. And here—put this on too.”
She handed me some sort of magic fur coat called the Wolf-hame of Draugluin. As soon as I pulled it on, my avatar began transforming into a giant wolf, forcing me to drop down on all fours. Transforming into another animal when you were wearing an ONI headset was a strange experience, because you no longer felt like you were inside a human body. It took some getting used to. But I’d transformed into plenty of other four-legged creatures during quests, so I was already used to the sensation and had plenty of experience getting around on four legs.
After she finished disguising me, Art3mis removed some sort of magic cloak from her inventory and put it on. My HUD’s image-recognition software identified it as the Bat-fell of Thuringwethil. When she lifted its hood and pulled it over her head, she transformed back into a large bat and took flight, flapping her dark wings and fluttering forward through the wide-open Gates of Angband.
It took me a few seconds before I realized I should follow her. Then I bounded forward, running after her on all fours.
Art3mis led me through the massive black Gates of Angband, then down a steep stone staircase that led down into the cavernous depths below. At the bottom, we found ourselves standing at the entrance to a maze of dark corridors and passageways, all of them leading farther belowground.
I was about to continue straight forward, toward the widest and most well-lit passageway. But Art3mis flew into my path and changed back into her human form.
“If we continued this way, we’d be forced to navigate our way down through the Labyrinthine Pyramid,” she said. “It’s a massive subterranean dungeon maze, made up of one hundred procedurally generated levels of increasing size and deadliness. It’s a re-creation of the old roguelike game based on Angband.” She pointed off to her right. “Luckily, I know a shortcut that leads directly down to the Nethermost Hall, which is where Morgoth’s throne is located. Follow me, Bracegirdle.”
I followed her down the adjacent corridor a short distance. Then she stopped and pressed her palm gently against a nondescript section of the corridor wall. With a grinding of stone, that section of the wall slid back, revealing the entrance to a secret passageway. Art3mis stepped into it, then motioned for me to follow. Once I was by her side, she pressed her hand to the wall again and the stone slid shut. After only a few minutes, we emerged from another secret door, just yards from Morgoth’s throne room.
Art3mis threw back the hood of her cloak. “OK, Z,” she said. “Here’s the plan. Normal magic doesn’t work on Morgoth, but I’m hoping a Middle-earth song spell should knock him out, just like it did Carcharoth. I’ve got a ninety-ninth-level one that should be impossible for him to resist. Let’s just hope my Quenya pronunciation is up to it.”
Then she strode forward, walking boldly through the open doors of Morgoth’s throne room as if she were visiting royalty, while I remained in the form of a wolf, trotting close by her heel.
The Nethermost Hall was a large, cavernous chamber, with a floor made of polished bronze. Torture racks and iron maidens lined the walls, along with statues of writhing black serpents. A massive iron throne dominated the other end of the hall, and a dark giant sat upon it. Morgoth was even more terrifying than I’d imagined. He was a towering demonic figure covered in black plate armor who looked like he belonged on the cover of every hardcore heavy-metal album ever made. His only fashion accessory was a seven-foot-long melee weapon laid across his lap, which, my HUD helpfully informed me, was named Grond, the Hammer of the Underworld, and was capable of killing any avatar with a single blow.