In modern day Los Angeles, a shadowy faction led by the Governor of California develops the arcane art of combat linguistics, planting the seeds of a future totalitarian empire in Scotto Moore’s Battle of the Linguist Mages.
Intrigued? Well read on to discover the synopsis and an excerpt from the first chapter of Scotto Moore’s Battle of the Linguist Mages, which releases on January 11th 2022.
Isobel is the Queen of the medieval rave-themed VR game Sparkle Dungeon. Her prowess in the game makes her an ideal candidate to learn the secrets of “power morphemes”—unnaturally dense units of meaning that warp perception when skilfully pronounced.
But Isobel’s reputation makes her the target of a strange resistance movement led by spellcasting anarchists, who may be the only thing stopping the cabal from toppling California over the edge of a terrible transformation, with forty million lives at stake.
Time is short for Isobel to level up and choose a side—because the cabal has attracted much bigger and weirder enemies than the anarchist resistance, emerging from dark and vicious dimensions of reality and heading straight for planet Earth!
I am the Queen of Sparkle Dungeon.
No, but seriously, that’s my ranking on the leaderboard: Queen of Sparkle Dungeon, the finest player to ever set foot inside its glittering tunnels and cavernous cuddle pits. No one but me has ever played a perfect game of Sparkle Dungeon; I have done so three times, once while restricting myself to nothing more than a moonbeam kaleidoscope as a weapon. I was the first to meet the villainous boss, Sandpaper Slim, and defeat him and his highly-irritating-especially-against-bare-skin minions. To this day, no one has ever finished Sparkle Dungeon 3: Mirrorball and Chain faster than me, and one time I beat Sparkle Dungeon 2: Glowsticks and Gemstones while running in a slow- ass emulator on Windows XP just to own the Sparkle Bros.
Right now, I’m getting my ass seriously kicked.
I’m in the midst of the final batt le of Sparkle Dungeon 4: Assassins of Glitter. By my side is the sole surviving member of my raiding party, the Keeper of the Moonlight Prism. You might think I’d be worried, surrounded by— wait for it— Assassins of Glitter, with their villainous leader, Rhinestone Randall, lobbing glitter bombs at us from atop his tower of stolen Chicago house records, looking absolutely smashing in a gleaming metallic leisure suit and sporting a sparkling golden bouffant. You might think I’d be tired of dodging armor-piercing Bedazzler rays and slashing my way through corrupted glam rockers who thought adding electronic beats to their back catalogue would gain them relevance with the EDM festival crowd.
But I want those stolen Chicago house records. I’m pretty sure some really good funk records are in that stack, too.
I bring out my Electronic Dance Mace and start swinging, smacking assassins out of my way in time to the soundtrack, which is thumping along at an aggressive but not unpleasant 130 beats per minute. In my off hand, I’m periodically blasting holes in assassins with a kaleidoscope— in this game, kaleidoscopes are beam weapons, not toys. Next to me, the Keeper of the Moonlight Prism is wielding her namesake magic item, spraying concentrated moonlight all around us, which partially shields us from attacks and partially distracts our foes by lighting up the room with gorgeous, mesmerizing patterns that would look very pretty projected on the ceiling of a chill room. The assassins are still doing their share of damage, despite our efforts; my diamond armor is cracked and chipped all over the place, and the Keeper’s meteorite shield is in tatters.
“Could use a heal,” she says.
I have about twenty healing spells in my arsenal, most of which we used getting this far, but I do have one last trick up my sleeve on that front. I cast an Uplifting Encore spell, which gives us a nice fat hit point bonus and about five minutes of temporary boosts to all our stat pools, as well as changing the soundtrack to an excellent deep house cut I’ve got queued up for the occasion.
“That’s the last one,” I tell her.
“Are you holding back here?” she says, as we grind our way through an endless sea of assassins. That’s the problem, really: Rhinestone Randall is churning out new assassins somehow, wearing us down on our way to face him.
“I just want to get a little closer,” I tell her.
* * *
In the game, the unwashed rabble clamors to join my raiding parties, and I bestow the favor of my enlightened company with a whimsical and capricious air. My live streams attract countless voyeurs, seeking not simply gameplay tips but also my effervescent commentary. When I am not rescuing the Realm from imminent opacity, I am also a core moderator on the Sparkle Forums, a principal editor on the SparkleWiki, and publisher of the eminent email newsletter, the Sparkle Digest. I am an esteemed expert in Sparkle Dungeon lore, gathering knowledge via repeated playthroughs of intricate scenarios in order to learn the boundaries of the Realm, the traits of its allies and enemies, the entirety of possible responses the game might offer when pushed to its limits. Indeed, the SparkleWiki originated as my personal game diary, which I published to great acclaim; I then enhanced it over many months and distributed it for the edification of those who would follow in my gem-encrusted footsteps.
I can recite the marketing description of each game perfectly, which I deploy at the rare parties I attend as a bit of a stunt. The original marketing description for the first Sparkle Dungeon is still my favorite:
“For eons, the Sparkle Realm has enjoyed peace, thanks to the Elite Adventurers of the Diamond Brigade. But now their champion and commander, the Mighty Mirrored Paladin, has been kidnapped, and an abrasive menace threatens to tarnish the gleam of the Realm. Take the oath—become a Sworn Protector of the Sparkle Realm—strap
on your sparkle-powered, neon-trimmed roller skates—and quest into the Sparkle Dungeon itself. Can you rescue
the Mighty Mirrored Paladin in time to defeat the Invaders from Planet Grime? Appropriate for all ages.”
Which was later amended to “appropriate for ages 13+” because too many children were traumatized by the sheer number of feral baby rainbows you need to kill to level up even once.
I have one major spell left that I’ve been saving for this final battle, because it’s debilitating to cast, but the damage it deals is astronomical. The spell is called Light Show, and now is the time for it. I begin emitting a guttural sequence of shrieks and hisses, exaggerated clicks and pops, ripping through the delivery of the spell in about five seconds.
My vision is suddenly clouded as a poisonous fog is released all around me. Then my avatar is temporarily transformed into a white-hot ball of light that shoots deadly lasers and spotlights that I can
aim at will, piercing through the fog and looking hella cool, slicing through Rhinestone Randall from halfway across his lair. Powerful strobe lights and flashing LED arrays go off all throughout the radius of the spell, causing psychic damage to each assassin within line of sight, and I watch them sink to the ground like club kids on their very first bumps of ketamine.
Uplifting Encore comes to a close in perfect timing with Rhinestone Randall’s defeat.
The Keeper and I survey the room and the stacks of dead assassins sprawled three feet deep on all sides. They’re actually quite pretty when they’re dead, what with the Moonlight Prism reflecting moonlight off of their glittering corpses onto the walls. We carefully thread our way to the stack of house records that Rhinestone Randall had been hoarding, watching for any surprise traps that might be lurking. Casting Light Show damages the spellcaster, too, the game’s way of ensuring you don’t roam the Sparkle Realm as a beautiful but murderous visual effect, so I’m down to just a tiny handful of hit points. One last trap could end my epic run at beating Sparkle Dungeon 4: Assassins of Glitter in campaign mode before anyone else.
The Keeper of the Moonlight Prism is with me, of course; she’ll share in the loot, and she’ll gain a fat stack of experience points. She’s three levels behind me, and she plays as though she’s only two levels behind me.
But I’m the one who just offed the big bad. Plus I’m the one who put together the raiding party that got us this far, although RIP to my pal Sir Trancelot, who got whacked by an eight-foot demonic subwoofer blaring the bassline to “Disco Inferno” at deadly decibel levels a few dance floors back. Didn’t affect me, of course, because I had the entire Frankie Knuckles discography blasting in a two-foot radius around my head at the time. This is possible because I’m multi-classed: I’m a formidable fighter, a powerful spellcaster, and an elite DJ with an epic record collection.
And most importantly, I’m the one who found the map to Rhinestone Randall’s palace of pomposity in the first place. It was disguised as liner notes in a series of bootleg albums purporting to be Jesse Saunders live sets from 1984, which c’mon, gimme a break, suuuure you were there pal, but still. So I’m keenly excited to sift through the tower of house records that the final boss has accumulated during his reign of terror. As I approach, however, the records are revealed to be a mirage, disguising my true reward for being the first person to complete this game in campaign mode: a mighty, gorgeous broadsword, with a gleaming golden hilt, in a scabbard inscribed with the sword’s name in stylish filigree:
I have acquired the artifact known as Blades Per Minute.
It’s the fourth such artifact I’ve collected, one for each game in the Sparkle Dungeon series. All four of these artifacts are unique, and all four of them are mine.
The Sparkle Bros, of course, are going to freak out that I got this one, too. They’ll be up in my face on the forums about ruining the game, and I’ll just keep posting Brian Eno’s Oblique Strategies at them (“Yes, I know you wish you had my awesome new sword, but have you tried making an exhaustive list of everything you might do and then doing the last thing on the list?”) as a I frolic about my secret sanctum, the Iridescent Warehouse, with Blades per Minute stashed safely in a display case marked in case of dubstep, break glass, plug your ears, and run for your life until my next big adventure.
