by N H Paxton
“But the natives of Eldgard are not so quick to give up the old ways—to heel for foreign masters. Though the rebellion is yet small, they fight on. Hour by hour, day by day...” Semi-translucent images of the various races at work—making equipment, forging armor, healing wounded, doing battle—expanded and shrank in my peripherals against the encroaching blue. Some lines halted, dead-ending in an “X,” where the war front had stalled. Others were beaten back, a few of the blue areas changing back to gray.
“However, in the far-flung North, another threat looms.” The announcer’s voice was tinged with darkness. I had never been so engrossed or intrigued by a video-game intro in my life. I had seen commercials for games with expensive advertisement videos, but nothing like this. This was extremely intense and must have taken an enormous amount of resources to make it work out. With an instantaneous sensation of moving, the world around me shifted, and I was standing in the snow of an unknowably high mountain. The cold was so intense I almost thought I was back home in January.
“The reclusive, mountain-dwelling Svartalfar have unwittingly burrowed into the prison of a dusty and long-forgotten god. A monstrous being of true dark, eager to return to the land of mortals once more. The breach is small, but large enough for Serth-Rog, Daemon Prince of Morsheim, to call acolytes to his cause... Imperial. Rebel. Light. Dark. Living. Dead. Which side will you choose?”
I was thrown from the ledge of the mountain as a dark power exploded from the top, a gathering inky-black mist coalescing into the shape of a great winged beast with soul-seeking green eyes. I continued to flip through the air, my body careening to the south. As I flailed through the air, feeling incredibly sick, I caught the eyes staring at me. I could have sworn they were smiling, watching as I flew like a leaf in the wind. My head struck something rough, solid, likely stone of some kind. My body flopped about as I rolled to a stop. Everything was pain, suddenly and swiftly, a torrent of agony. My mind refused to cooperate for a solid moment, but when I came to, the strong scent of grass and mountain air filled my lungs.
“This game,” I said as I coughed chunks of dirt and grass from my mouth, “this game is going to be death of Vlad, I think.” I stood slowly, gathering my wits. The sun was beginning to reach its zenith. “Is almost noon.”
I had to stop talking to myself. Everything sounded broken. Was the game forcing me to speak English?
I tested. “Derr’mo.”
Nope, I could still swear in Russian. Maybe it was a language-filter feature? Being forced to speak English without thinking was an inconvenience at best. Almaz-Antev had mentioned that V. G. O. had a built-in universal translator. I sighed heavily as I shook my head. Did anything they had promised actually work right? I was standing on a mountain plateau, the forest stretching out before me, the same one I had seen in the opening video. It had drastically changed—age maybe, or perhaps trees were removed and destroyed?—but it didn’t matter. It was the same forest.
I took in my surroundings. There was a pungent smell in the air. Acrid, almost...
“Something is burning.” I looked around, trying to pinpoint the location of the fire. A small clearing with a couple simple fires. There were dozens of figures running around like crazy.
It was a village, it was on fire, and I was not going to stand idly by this time. But how would I get down there? As though my question were answered for me, I noticed a very steep trail heading down the edge of the cliff. It was a treacherous climb, and it would take considerable effort, but I was hoping my new body would be able to handle it.
I turned about for a moment trying to get a view of what was going on. I caught sight of a woman with long auburn hair raising a sword and waving to a group of villagers. Her features were so radically familiar, I felt a stab of pain in my heart.
“Ina!” I shouted, half mad in my sudden craze to reach her, to see her one last time, to feel her in my arms.
I started the long, treacherous climb down the slope, but lost my footing at the halfway mark. I rolled down the rest of the way, watching the world spin completely out of control. One moment, I was watching the sun rapidly soar toward the horizon, and the next I was eating a solid chunk of stone. It took everything in me not to scream the entire way down as I bounced and struck rocks and small trees. At one point, I slammed into a large pine tree. I felt the bones in my chest crunch and collapse as I careened to the side. A number of red notifications flew up in my face, but I was moving too fast to pay attention to them.
I finally reached the bottom of the mountain, skidding to a stop in the grass, my chest burning, my arms and legs throbbing in agony. I was covered in injuries, and there were a few small notifiers in the top of my vision that were blinking frantically, the ones I hadn’t been able to read on my way down the mountain. My right arm was completely limp, and Gods, did everything hurt!
<<<<>>>>
Debuffs Added
Fractured Arm: You cannot use your right arm and cannot cast mage spells that require hand gestures; duration, 2 minutes.
Cracked Ribs: Your breathing is impaired, and your cracked ribs are causing you pain; Stamina regeneration reduced by 20%; duration, 2 minutes.
Concussed: You have sustained a severe head injury! Confusion and disorientation; duration, 1 minute.
<<<<>>>>
There was a red flashing bar in the corner of my vision, evidently my Health points. They were at less than 10%—that was an incredibly long fall.
“Remind to yell at Development team when finding one, b’lyad.” I stood slowly, agonizing pain in all of my joints. I leaned backward and popped my back. “Vlad needs break already, only been here ten minute and already fell from sky. Idiot developers make realism hurt like being hit by truck on highway. Not even small truck.”
In Blaze of Glory...
I WAS RIPPED FROM THE inside of my head by the scream of a woman. I looked across the clearing and saw the woman from before had taken a flaming arrow to the shoulder. Her body spun from the force of the blow as she went down to the ground.
“Ina!” I shouted as loud as my new lungs would allow as I charged across the open space.
I needed a plan. With my low health, I would get killed if I ran into this fight unprepared.
As I crossed the space, I noticed a bucket knocked toward me. I picked it up and hooked it around my arm as a makeshift shield. It wouldn’t do much, but it would be enough for the short dash. I made it to the woman in seconds, grabbed her, and, against her protest, dragged her out of the way of the encroaching people. They were dressed in leathers and hides, ragged and worn. A tag popped up above one of their heads: [Bandit]. Of course, it’s always bandits. At least that’s what my gaming co-workers had complained about.
“You idiot, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” The woman struggled against me, but her arm was limp from the shoulder down, keeping her from wrenching free of my grasp. “They’re going to kill everyone if we don’t do something.” Her argument was laden with anger, her words laced with the venom of a person trying to protect everything they’ve ever known; I could feel it in my soul.
“We will fight, but we need tactical advantage. Out in open is good way to get killed.” I sounded like an idiot in my broken English. I managed to get her behind one of the stilted houses that comprised the village.
She sat up and pulled a vial of red fluid from her belt. She chugged it, grimacing as she did so. I watched in amazement as her arm healed of its own accord, the wound sealing, the ligaments resetting. She flexed her hand a few times and gave a grim smile.
“Oh, I’m sorry, here.” She handed me one as well. I regarded it with some caution before taking it from her hand.
“It’s a healing potion, you dolt. Drink it, or you won’t take a single blow without dying.” She stood and pulled a short blade from a sheath strapped to her outer thigh. It was longer than a dagger, but shorter than a sword. It was somewhere in between, but my limited knowledge of swords and their kind was not helping me her
e.
I drank the health potion with a bit of hesitancy. To my great surprise, it was overtly flavorful. The sweet cherry-berry flavor filled my throat. I wasn’t in love with the taste, but it was palatable. I could feel my muscles strengthening, the bruises and injuries under my tattered tunic healed themselves in seconds. I felt popping and pain as my ribs and arm reset themselves as the potion went to work.
“This stuff is incredible, thank you.” I offered her the glass vial back, but she just shrugged.
“That’s great, now let’s do something about these bandits, aye?” She looked me up and down quickly, appraisingly. “You’re not much, but you’ll do. Any experience in combat? We haven’t much time.”
It was almost as though she were prophesying as the building we were hiding behind was peppered with arrows.
“Okay, strike that, we have no time.” She took off without me, shouting loudly about me doing something, but what I didn’t catch.
“Oh hell.” I spied a woodsman’s axe sitting unattended on a log nearby. “Or maybe not.” It was about twenty feet out, in completely unprotected space, but a plan was forming in my mind.
I rushed out and grabbed it, yelling at the bandits to draw their attention. I shouted a great stream of Russian obscenities, severely insulted one of their mothers, and then rushed back behind the building. Hopefully the axe would be enough. I could hear the warrior woman fighting—metal clashed against metal, the screams of men under a blade. She was doing a fine job. I just needed to draw the enemy closer.
“What are you doing!?” The woman yelled at me as she ran past. I had hacked away two of the supports from under a hut and was about to remove a third. An arrow came my way, and as I ducked, narrowly avoiding it, the axe went into the ground. Gods but it was heavy.
“I have plan. Draw asshole bandits to this side in one minute. Have you anything to light fire?” I hefted the axe again and ripped the stilt apart after another couple of blows. The woman tossed me a flint and steel, tied together with a crude rope. “This will do.” I sighed as I went to work setting the hut ablaze.
It caught without much effort, and the flames launched up the side of the building. I heard shouting as some bandits came around the side of the structure.
“Too fast!” I left the axe and took off around the building, opposite of the way they were coming. I had hoped to remove another support, but the three would have to do.
“Okay.” The woman ran up to me, panting. “What do we do?”
“Push!” I placed my shoulder solidly against the hut and started forcing it over. The woman added her strength, and the building shifted. “Harder!”
The strain ran down into my spine, and I knew this would hurt in the morning. We pushed for what felt like a week, but it finally gave. The building came crashing down on top of the small contingency of bandits with an ear-shattering kr-crash. Some of the rubble blew away as the hut collapsed in on itself, striking a few of the bandits that had survived the building itself. A few of them went down, but there was one big bruiser of a bandit that survived. He was clearly leading this force—a tag sprung up above his head that read [Bandit Lieutenant].
“Okay, that went well,” the warrior shouted as she pulled her blade free from the ground a couple feet away. “Now to deal with this asshat.”
I stood there, breathing heavily. This woman, she was a fighter through and through.
Wait a moment. What is an asshat?
“You fight just as fiercely as Conrad said you would, but you’re all alone now.” The bandit lifted his sword and pointed at me as I leaned heavily against my knees and heaved in deep breaths. “He’s not in fighting shape, nor is he capable.”
“Conrad won’t be getting a report from you this time.” She lunged with her sword, striking the bandit’s blade. A shower of sparks flew in every direction as they danced a very deadly dance. They exchanged blows for only a short while, before the woman had the upper hand. She used a sudden shift in stance to her advantage and drove her blade deep into the bandit’s neck.
“Give my regards to your brother.” Her last words as she put her boot into the bandit’s chest, pushing him off her blade, hung in the air. She stood there for a long moment, breathing heavily, then she turned to me. “Don’t just stand there. Fetch some water for these fires!”
I realized I had just been wasting time and hurried to do just that.
It had only taken a few minutes for the entire village, with its thatch-roof huts and largely woven grass buildings, to burn to the ground. There was not a lot left. The villagers who had previously run off at Ina’s direction were milling about not far off in the distance. Their faces were gaunt, hollow; I had seen that before in the faces of trauma survivors. This warrior woman who looked like Ina was poking around at the remains of a large building that was nothing more than a pile of ashes. I dropped onto the ground with a huff, just wanting to rest.
Remembering to Forget
“SO, ENTIRE VILLAGE is razed?” I sat on the dry dirt of a makeshift path within the village.
“Seems so. I really tried to make sure it stayed standing. I’ve defended this place for years now.” The woman sat down on the ground next to me. She pulled a pipe from the bag on her hip, followed by a small, fragrant pouch. I knew tobacco when I smelled it.
Gods, I could use a cigarette. My eyes followed the pipe and pouch in her hands as she slowly tamped a wad into place.
“Oh, would you like some?”
I clearly wasn’t subtle, but I hadn’t had a cigarette in what felt like days. I could almost feel my hands shaking. It probably was partially from coming down off the battle too.
“I, uh.” I stumbled on my words. I hadn’t meant to be so obvious.
“You uh?” A thin smile grew on her lips as she lit the pipe with a flint and steel and took a deep drag. The cherry-red glow in the bowl sent me back to my life on Earth, when I used to smoke a pipe like the one she held. It was a dark wood, obviously hand-carved, but surprisingly ornamental. There was a series of leaves carved down the sides, as though it were still part of a tree, while the bowl was carved to look like a cone from a pine tree. The craftsmanship on it was stunning, almost ethereal. I had a hard time looking away.
“Yes, well, ahem.” I cleared my throat as I turned my face. A slight warmth had broken out across my cheeks. “Have you enough to share?” Wow, that was smooth, Vlad.
“Yes, here.” She handed me the pipe, gently.
As I reached for it, my hand brushed hers. It startled me, her skin was so warm and soft. It didn’t feel like the hands of a seasoned fighter. Awkwardness aside, the tobacco was a wonderful experience. I took a hard pull on the pipe, letting the smoke suffuse my lungs. I could taste the wood, the smoke, the tobacco, the slight hint of pine. I released the smoke gently from my nose, watching it curl as though it were completely real. Osmark’s company did a great job on realism. I would need to find cigarettes soon, though. And vodka.
“I am Vlad,” I said proudly after the first delicious breath of smoke had left me. “I know very little about goings-on.”
The warrior smiled at me, a little chuckle rolling from her lips.
“And I am Ina.” My breath caught, and I nearly choked on my own saliva. “As I said, I’ve been protecting this village for years. A shame now, though.”
“Ina? You said your name is Ina?” I was even more confused as to what had happened. Had I died and been reborn? No, that was to occur seventy-two hours after first login.
“It is. I heard you shout it from the hill when you were ungracefully falling down it. I just assumed you knew who I was. But obviously, you wouldn’t have been sent by any of the warden’s guilds. You clearly aren’t very high level.” She rolled her eyes as she stood up, brushing the dirt and clay from her butt.
“No, am not. Vlad is fairly new here.” I tamped the bowl on the ground to empty the spent tobacco and stood as well.
“Well, Vlad, let’s see about getting you some gear and mayb
e a few levels. Oh, and we need to get these people to safety, got ourselves a whole village to move. We’ve got maybe six hours before the sun sets, and the Tanglewood forest east of here has all manner of baddies. There’s a small town south of here called Cressfal. It’s a few hours walk for the able-bodied. But with this many people, especially the elderly and the wounded, it’ll take about all the daylight we have left.”
As she finished speaking, a prompt filled my vision. It was so sudden, it caused me to jump a little.
<<<>>>
Quest Alert: Save the Villagers!
You have successfully completed a secret quest, which required you to save the villagers of Val’Fore. Though the village has been reduced to ashes and splinters, the people are still alive, and have you to thank! As a result, you have received 2,000 XP, and your reputation with the villagers of Val’Fore has increased to Friendly.
<<<>>>
Quest Alert: Relocation
Ina has offered you a quest to help her relocate the villagers of Val’Fore to a safe location, namely the village of Cressfal, a reasonable walk to the south.
Quest Class: Common, Personal
Quest Difficulty: Easy
Success: The villagers of Val’Fore safely arrive at Cressfal.
Failure: The villagers are wiped out, or you do not reach the town by nightfall.
Reward: 1,000 XP; unknown material rewards; increased reputation with the villagers of Val’Fore.
Accept: Yes/No?
<<<>>>
I wasn’t going to let Ina down. And these villagers trusted me now to take care of them. It was a burden, for sure, but it needed to be done.
“Yes,” I said out loud, without thinking. Ina looked at me with a cocked head, confusion present on her face.
“Oh, got yourself a quest? Good for you, that should help speed things along. I’ll go see about wrangling the villagers swiftly—we’ve got to be going soon. See what you can salvage from some of the houses and meet back here in ten.” With that, Ina strode away, leaving me to my thoughts. I saw there was a flashing plus symbol in the corner of my vision, along with a couple other flashing notifiers. I focused on the plus symbol and was struck with another notification.