Viridian Gate Online

by J D Astra

  I jerked forward to grab the glass, all of my movements overstated and hypersensitive. I took a long drink, and then kept drinking and drinking, until the glass was empty. It was very hoppy. I was reminded of the beer snobs back IRL who gave me shit for not liking IPAs, and it was probably one of those jerks who programmed this beer. The orange aftertaste wasn’t bad, and it wasn’t too bitter, either. Otto filled my glass again, and I opened my character screen, then panned to the message.

  <<<>>>

  Personal Message:

  Your face was so screwed up after that brawl, it took me a while to put your name to it. You were a senior architect for Osmark Technologies, right? The one whose father died during production? Very sorry to hear about that.

  So coincidental to run into you at the Drunken Donkey. Robert certainly will be interested in a status update on how many of his employees are taking the plunge. He made this safe haven for you, and I sincerely hope you understand what that means.

  Did you hear everything you needed to out of Verin?

  Cheers,

  Sandra

  <<<>>>

  I slapped the menu shut, grabbed my full cup, and chugged the hoppy beer.

  “That good, eh?” Otto asked.

  I stopped, remembering how easily I’d gotten drunk the day before, and set my drink aside. There was fear in my gut, and alcohol, but something else, too. My hands trembled harder, and blood rushed to my cheeks.

  Very sorry to hear about your dead father. The sound of her venomous voice swirled in my brain, coupled with the last video chat I had with my father. His gaunt, colorless face, pallid lips, and sunken eyes told me it was the end. I hadn’t cried. I smiled through the whole conversation, told him I loved him dearly, told him how sorry I was.

  I’d almost broken my wrist after that call when I punched through the drywall. I had to wear a brace for weeks, and my scrum master never let me live down the productivity loss. She was always going on about our burndown charts, reduced velocity, and missing story points. What a prick.

  But Osmark did what he did to save us. He could’ve scaled back on everything and made himself a personal digital island to live out the rest of his days—or millennia—in peaceful solitude. He chose to keep moving forward, to take risks, to make dirty deals, and drive people like slaves so that he could save as many people as possible. My wrist ached with remembered pain, and I rubbed my knuckles at the thought of giving him a good punch for all the shit he put us and our families through.

  “So, how much does she know?” Otto broke my fury-filled trance.

  I picked up my fork and stabbed into what looked like a parsnip. “Enough to put us at risk. But perhaps not so much that we’re in trouble.” I popped the salty roasted root in my mouth and chewed. My mind was no longer interested in eating, only revenge. My body needed food so I could perform well. I needed to perform well so I could level up and take him down.

  “We’ve done a lot together. I’m not worried.” Otto shrugged it off and started in on his steak.

  I put back the meal without much enjoyment, my mind fixated on Sandra and her vile words. He built this haven for you.

  I helped build this place. Osmark sat back with the grand vision and left all of us to do the work. Sandra did even less. She was always running around settling deals or hovering over the directors’ shoulders.

  Otto pushed back his empty plate and stood. “We should exchange these gold chunks for coins.”

  I gave a nod and followed him out to the street. He took us to the local mint, and we exchanged our pieces for ten gold coins, which we split evenly. It was just past 11 AM, and with nothing else to do but wait for Naitee, Otto took us to the Requests Bulletin.

  The small castle in the background everywhere we went in Harrowick was finally front and center. It wasn’t as small as I’d thought, but it was still only about the size of the White House with tall turrets flanking the center spire.

  The Requests Bulletin was just as I’d assumed, a spot for Travelers and NPCs alike to pick up quests. There were several lowbies gathered around the board in a sort of “afk” situation, definitely scanning through their character sheets or looking up information on the wiki. We looked through a few of the quests, but nothing was particularly inspiring, or rewarding for that matter.

  It was near enough to noon that I suggested we head back to Naitee, and Otto nodded his agreement. The message from Sandra rattled between my synapses in an unending echo of both fear and fury. I was terrified of what she might do to us, to Jack if he got involved and if we pulled off this dungeon raid, but I also wanted to see her face and Osmark’s when they’d had something stolen from them, like me.

  It wasn’t enough to just take this one dungeon away from them, I needed to take away their plot for the future. Whatever was at the bottom of the dungeon was instrumental to that. I opened the message and read it one more time. The words were already burned into my digital retina, but I wanted to look at it again—I wanted to push down the fear and let the anger through. My gut roiled as I read it over, and again, but the fear remained.

  In V.G.O., there were worse fates than death, much worse. They could torture me, bring me to the brink of death, then give me a Health potion. They could camp my bind location and grief kill me over and over. They could torture Otto and Jack the same way and leave me powerless to help.

  I bumped into the back of Otto and closed the menu. He smirked and put his hand on my shoulder. “You don’t need to dwell on it. We’re capable, and if your friend is a team player like you said, we will be fine.”

  My head bobbed in agreement, but I didn’t feel any better. Otto lead the way into Naitee’s shop, for once, and we were greeted by Naitee’s distant voice, yelling, “You’re too prompt! I’m almost finished!”

  I shuffled around the room, adjusting burnt tapestries and smoothing out singed rugs. Nothing helped. Nothing kept my mind from visions of torture and agony. They were already so much more powerful than us. They were already more numerous than us. What could we do against this?

  “Abby.” Otto’s voice pulled me to the present. I was facing the wall, another fireball clenched in my fist.

  I extinguished the flame. “I’m fine.”

  “I hope you understand,” Naitee shouted from the room upstairs, “how difficult this has been! Copying a scroll as complex as this without being able to see it, you’re lucky I’m a skilled Scriptologist!

  “There!” she declared, and I heard the rolling of parchment. Seconds later, she appeared on the stairs with three rolled scrolls and a huge grin.

  When her gaze met my face, her smile faltered. “What is it, child?”

  The concern in her creased forehead made her look just like my mother for a moment, and the dread in my stomach gobbled away all the anger I had left.

  Otto boomed with confidence, “The road ahead is dangerous for us, but our obstacles are no match for our tenacity. We will prevail.” He plopped a heavy hand on my shoulder and shook me gently.

  Naitee looked about as convinced as I felt. The scrolls disappeared from her arms back into her inventory, and she stepped to me, grabbing my hands in hers.

  “You may be one woman, but you have strength beside you and around you. Your cause is noble, and your heart is in the right place. Don’t fret.” Her words were gentle and kind, but were they right? Was my cause noble?

  Taking down Osmark to save the people had been the line I spouted, but with Sandra’s threat, revenge was all I could feel alongside the fear. Nothing noble, nothing that screamed to me I was a good person or doing what was just.

  I shook my head and dismissed the doubt. My motives were shit, but the end result would be the same. If I could stop Osmark from whatever he was plotting, I could save Eldgard from his tyranny. That was what mattered.

  I gave my best attempt at a smile and nodded. “Thank you.”

  “Now”—she pulled the scrolls from her inventory and held them out to me—“you remember our deal, yes
?”

  “Yes.” I reached for the scrolls, and she pulled them away.

  “Anything.”

  I groaned. “Yes.”

  She passed them into my grasp, and I stowed them away in my inventory.

  “Oh.” She held out three more scrolls. “For your trip home.”

  I accepted the Scrolls of Return and ferried them away into my digital safe-storage. I didn’t know how much Scrolls of Return cost, but was grateful that Naitee was thinking ahead for me.

  “Thank you.” I shook Naitee’s hand, then turned to Otto. “I need to send a message.”

  “Take your time.” He nodded, wiping a bit of sweat from his forehead. I realized with a skill point in Residual Heat, the warmth of Naitee’s shop was nice instead of nearly unbearable.

  I stepped to the other side of the room and plopped myself down on a burnt rug. Should I get Jack involved? Should I risk someone else’s life? Choice, Abby. Jack can choose to help you. Just give him that chance and see what happens.

  “Okay,” I sighed and opened the social tab in my character screen. I selected to write a new personal message.

  <<<>>>

  New Personal Message

  Recipient: Grim_Jack

  Subject: You made it!

  Body:

  Jack,

  I wasn’t sure you were going to take the leap or not, but I’m glad to see you’re in here. Look, I’ve got a sensitive, ultra-rare quest. It’s sort of a hidden feature created by some of the Devs at Osmark, but I need someone I can trust on this. I need you on this.

  It’s not without its risks. Sandra, Osmark’s right hand, seems to already be onto me. I don’t want to pull you into anything...

  <<<>>>

  Ugh, damn it. I deleted the last paragraph. I didn’t want to freak him out so badly he wouldn’t even show up to check out the dungeon, and plus, if we didn’t meet up at the dungeon, it could be days or weeks before we could meet up anywhere else given the lack of fast travel and the probable distance between us.

  The countdown timer for the Edge of a Blade quest blinked in the corner of my vision as it dropped down to 27 hours remaining. I gritted my teeth and started back in on the message.

  <<<>>>

  New Personal Message

  Recipient: Grim_Jack

  Subject: You made it!

  Body:

  Jack,

  I wasn’t sure you were going to take the leap or not, but I’m glad to see you’re in here. Look, I’ve got a sensitive, ultra-rare quest. It’s sort of a hidden feature created by some of the Devs at Osmark, but I need someone I can trust on this. I need you on this.

  I don’t want to say too much, but this is big. Could be a game changer for us. I’ve attached a scroll of teleport to this message. Please meet me tomorrow afternoon, 2 PM in-game time. This is a time sensitive mission, so please don’t be late.

  —Abby

  <<<>>>

  I nabbed one of the copy scrolls from my inventory and attached it to his message, then looked at the “Send” button. He has a choice, Abby, but only if you give it to him.

  The “Send” text pulsed at me, seeming to know what step I needed to take next. I selected the button, and the message was off to its recipient. I panned to my “Sent” tab and saw the status was “Delivered, Unread.” Well, that was it then.

  “Otto, are you ready to go?” I brushed crispy rug fibers from my Wildfire gown and approached my NPC.

  “Go?” he asked, arms crossed. “Did your friend already reply?”

  “No.” I grabbed the other copy scroll from my inventory and flipped it once in the air. “But I want to go check this place out, get a feel for it, see what we’re really up against.”

  Otto nodded. “Reasonable. Let’s get stocked up.”

  Naitee walked us to the door and stopped me after Otto stepped out. She pulled me in close, locking her haunting blue eyes on mine, then whispered, “You put on a good show, child, but you’re weak inside. Find your strength. Without it you will fail, and he will die.”

  I gritted my teeth and nodded, internally fuming at her accusation. My strength has always been there, I was strong. The possibility of Otto or Jack being captured and tortured to death, that made me scared, and weak. Otto made me weak... just like Sandra said.

  Naitee bid us farewell and good luck as we walked out into the midday sun. The warmth of light on my skin couldn’t combat the cold inside, the tightening of my muscles, and the swirling doubt of my actions.

  Had I just damned Jack? Would my weakness kill Otto? Even if we could defeat the dungeon, that was just step one. We would be on the run from Osmark and his goons forever, scrambling for survival while piecing together his plans and how to take them down. Would the casualties be worth the reward? What was the price for peace, and who would pay it?

  The dreaded questions consumed me as we finished gathering potions and selling our inventory junk to make space. We stepped out to a clearing, and I popped the seal on the scroll, plunging myself into a future of pain and struggle.

  Restricted Area

  THE OTHER SIDE OF THE portal was not what I was expecting. Honestly, I sort of expected Naitee to get something wrong and send us into the middle of a mountain. But, after a quick glance at the in-game map, which showed us on a tiny island, Eldgard not even visible, it seemed we had indeed arrived at the restricted area my fellow Devs had created.

  The area was grassy with little daisies sprouting here and there, surrounded by a lush deciduous forest, with the sound of a rivulet nearby. I bent down, plucked a few blades of grass, and smelled the ends. It reminded me of Vancouver at the edge of fall, the last grass cutting of the season, when the soil had been well watered all year.

  A large, leaning stone archway grabbed my attention, and I rotated in my crouched position. Not just one arch, but five or six looking something like Stonehenge, encircling a large pit with a short set of stairs. The clumsily put together landmark was obviously the entrance to the dungeon. The door at the bottom of the stairs was not just some crude wooden barrier. The hinges looked like steel, much stronger than iron or bronze, and the deep, chestnut wood was adorned with gold swirls.

  “It’s quiet,” Otto said with the undertone of suspicion.

  I stood and searched the tree line. “Yeah, but if we were going to be ambushed, I think it would’ve happened as soon as we stepped out of the portal. It doesn’t seem like anyone is here yet.”

  As if to prove me wrong, there was a shuffling just beyond the edge of the forest, where the light was obstructed enough to impair my vision. A fireball readied on command, and I squinted, trying to get a better look. From the corner of my eye I saw Otto unsheathe his sword. The blade glowed blue, the light emanating from his hand and licking up the steel like a soft flame. It must’ve been a new ability he just unlocked, as I’d never seen it before.

  I returned focus to the trees ahead. “Who’s there?” I demanded.

  A low grumble was the only reply. A shadowy figure, as tall as Otto but even more broad, came into view. I didn’t wait to get a closer look and launched my fireball at the thing’s chest. The flash of fiery impact illuminated the creature for a brief second, and its name appeared as its Health ticked down 10%, [Corrupt Valdgeist].

  Its face was monstrously contorted, held together with some kind of black muck and packed with rotting leaves and twigs. The goopy tree-monster roared, moving faster, but still at a snail’s pace. I readied another fireball and popped Fire Inside. I launched the spell and stepped into range for Inferno Blast, then let the thing have it.

  The Corrupt Valdgeist’s Health dropped sharply as it went up in flames, three Burning Afflictions taking hold within seconds and searing its remaining HP away. The creature dropped to the ground in a smoldering, oozy pile of what looked like forest floor remnants. There were little, half-decomposed mouse corpses, some larger bones like a fox or bobcat, and misshapen masses of unidentifiable matter.

  “Not an ambush, but certainly
unhappy to see us.” I approached the smoking lump and covered my nose with my arm. The smell curled the hairs in my nostrils and turned my stomach. It was something like burning feces and flesh, mixed with three-week-old, hot garbage.

  I breathed carefully through my mouth as I backed away and pointed to Otto. “You loot it, it’s making me sick.”

  Otto balled his hands and straightened, then bent down to the steaming stink monster. He stood and backed away, then gave a deep sigh, like he’d been holding his breath. “Five gold.”

  “Five? Five gold!” I exclaimed. We’d seen little more than a few coppers off the mobs Naitee had us killing, but this new quest was a serious payout. I popped open my character sheet and checked my “XP To Next Level” field.

  Holy. Crap. That thing was 1,500 XP all on its own. The first quest I had done was 1,500 XP, and I’d almost died completing it.

  Otto held his hand out to me, and I opened my palms to receive my share of the loot. I stared at the two gold coins in my palm and had a terrible, gut-wrenching revelation. This place was a power-leveling zone. If Osmark gave this kind of power to every wealthy, corrupt piece of garbage back IRL, they would out-level every other player in the game in a few hours. They would be wealthier than every other player in the game for months. This was seriously bad news.

  Otto retched a bit and swallowed hard. “So, how about you let me do the killing next time.”

  I chuckled, though the dread made it difficult for me to find amusement in his discomfort. “Yeah, okay. I’ll stand back and pop Smokescreens and lob a few Fireballs.”

  Otto led the way into the forest, and I turned to look at the dungeon entrance one more time. We’d do a little exploring, then come right back. We’d been so broke for so long, having some extra cash and levels would do us good.