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And try I did.
I opened the Technical Support menu and dashed off a complaint about a group of players keeping me against my will. I also demanded to be released from the castle and attached the list of their names I'd compiled earlier. I forwarded a copy to the customer service. The latter replied immediately.
Thank you for your message. After due consideration, it was further divided into technical and administrative categories. A new technical support ticket has been created. Ticket number: 1176121b.
Message overlap warning! Tickets 1176121b and 1176002 have been merged. New ticket number: 1176771.
In response to your message 1176121a, please be advised that the said players' accounts were disabled over a year ago, following numerous complaints and breach of EULA agreement.
AI Crimson 9/155.
A minute later, the technical support chimed in:
Thank you for your message 1176771. After due consideration, we have granted your request re: forced imprisonment.
Commandunstick Error! Bug report generated!
Commandgate Error! Bug report generated!
Activating forced relocation via database. Error! Bug report generated!
We regret to inform you that relocation has failed. A report has been forwarded to the software developer. Estimated response time: 14 days.
AI Crimson 9/115.
Morons. I could forget it. Just in case, I wrote to them again asking to interfere and kill me somehow—with a lightning bolt if they wished.
We regret that we are unable to grant your request. Per section 14.1 of EULA, Administration ca
Cryl watched the change of expression on my face with an understanding smile. "Having fun?"
"I'm not going to leave it like that. They're all idiots, those paper pushers."
"They're not. I think they understand everything. But for some reasons of their own, they either can't or don't want to interfere. They probably don't have an opinion yet or they just can't decide on their position toward the players and the players' position in the world. Here, catch their answer to my last email. It sums up six days of our correspondence. Saves you time."
In response to your messages 1172121, 1176612 and 117775 please be advised that the issue of the legal rights of digitized persons has been included in the Agenda of the September Session of the U.N. General Assembly.
"That's the end of it. They haven't written to me since," Cryl said.
Immediately I received Dan's message. The inbox worked without a glitch.
Hi Max, were are u? Need to have a talk.
Come on, agent, show us your training. He'd had an Alliance member kidnapped from under his nose and was none the wiser.
A bit later I received Taali's text saying she was on her way home. I just gritted my teeth like a convict watching the happy outside life unfold beyond his bars.
Our jailors admitted a new prisoner, a level 12 kid, scared out of his little mind. Soon he was hanging on a chain too, whimpering with terror.
I kept applying heat to the Admins demanding they put me in contact with a human being and trying to prove to them the error of their ways. It looked like they just strung me along.
Dan flooded me with messages. He seemed to be worried now. Soon, I started receiving Taali's PMs—concerned at first, then outright panicky.
A gorgeous Elfa with a frozen face of a wax doll walked into the dungeon. She brought some beer and food for the jailors and stood next to their table motionless and vacant, oblivious of the guards' groping hands and hoarse suggestions of whether they should have a shag or eat first. Overhead, chains rattled as Cryl got restless.
Whassup? I PM'd him.
This is Lena. Don't mind the sexy avatar. She's only thirteen. We got here the same day. She was cheerful at first. Very brave. Then they took her somewhere. She came back the next day, only now she doesn't react to anything. She does everything she's told, then she clams up again. She doesn't reply to my messages any more.
"Fucking shits…" I whispered.
By evening, I became lethargic. Cryl and I kept exchanging half-hearted messages. No idea what I'd have done without him. How on earth had he managed to last the two weeks he'd been there? How come he hadn't broken down yet?
Dan began sending in brief reports. He'd worked it out that I'd been kidnapped and advised me to stay put and try to provoke my kidnappers by spitting in their faces or trying to fall on their sword, and whatever I did, not to change my bind point.
The inbox flashed—him again.
Max, cheer up. We're working. We think it's the Olders. We're looking into them. You're probably under a silence dome or some other silence spell. If latter is true, you'll still have access to the auction. Try to place an empty lot in your name in the subject line. Use the description field to tell us where you're are. We're monitoring the auction.
I tried it. As if! I tried all game services. I could only get access to the Wiki, the bank and technical support forms. Players couldn't edit Wiki content. I could, of course, try to send some money to someone, but I still couldn't add a text message to a transfer. At least that way they'd know I was alive. Having said that…
I grasped at the inkling of an idea. Unbending my fingers and moving my lips, I did some calculations. Then I sent Dan four money transfers for 3, 1, 20 and 19 silver. My i
Dan worked it out first. His intelligence job made him used to riddles. He replied with two words.
Forest Cats?
Again I started unfolding fingers. 'Y'… 'e'… 's'… I sent three more transfers, each sum denoting the letter's place in the alphabet. This time I sent gold, to stress the message's importance.
Got it. Well done, Max. Hold on. And watch fur fly.
An hour later, the dungeon door swung open. Footsteps of several men pounded across the room. A group came to my cage: a high-ranking clan officer and several fighters with torches, including Tavor. The officer studied me for a while, then turned to him.
"What did I say to you? You were told to bring newbs without clan support—and run them through the database first. What the fuck did you bring him for? He's level fifty-plus. The Vets are going ballistic. Now they've sent an ultimatum to the Commandant. We're to hand him over within twenty-four hours or they'll raze all three castles to the ground."
Tavor scowled. "They can try. We can still invest in more guards and soldiers. Then we'll be on a par with them. You need at least a five to one superiority to take a castle over."
"You think? Then you probably heard about the new tobacco alliance? If so, you probably know that this fuckhead you've brought is a member? And he's the author of the cigarette recipe? You didn't know that, did you? Really, what's the point of reading the news if you can screw some slut instead."