The Monolith

by Stephen Roark

  Skill: 9

  Viletaint: 7

  Intellect: 14

  That one made me laugh. “Weirdos with their swords and knives?!” It was nice to see that even in a game as gothic and gloomy as this, there was still a little humor. Black humor, but humor just the same.

  Fevered Carcass: You live on the edge of sanity, relishing in close quarters combat, watching the eyes of your enemy as they fall to your blade and you send them into the great beyond.

  Vitality: 10 HP = 230

  Toughness: 13

  Strength: 8

  Skill: 14

  Viletaint: 7

  Intellect: 6

  The next, and final entry, I almost didn’t believe.

  Meat Sack: You are weak—beyond weak. Almost useless. People feel bad when they see you, as they know you aren’t long for this world. You’d better just stay home, unless of course you like to die! Only for the hardest of the hardcore.

  Vitality: 5 HP = 105

  Toughness: 5

  Strength: 5

  Skill: 5

  Viletaint: 5

  Intellect: 5

  What is this? I thought, re-examining the starting stats, just to make sure I hadn’t misread them. But I hadn’t. The Meat Sack was gimped beyond belief! Who in the world would pick a character like that and deliberately put themselves at a disadvantage?

  Duh, you idiot. The game told you! “The hardest of the hardcore!”

  As I didn’t know the game, part of me wanted to just pick the most average starter build so I could get the hang of things. Once I figured things out, I could always just come back and re-roll. But choosing the “White Bread” option just didn’t sit right with me. It was like the game was mocking me. As a die-hard Mizaguchi fan, was I really going to take the easy route?

  But picking a gimped build, only for the hardest of the hardcore, was quite the decision to make in a new game that deliberately didn’t hold your hand, and whose marketing catch phrase was “You will die!”

  Sole Survivor was probably the best build, as it had the highest starting vitality, which would make me harder to kill, but that would be taking the easy way out. That would be like moving from the steps when J.D. kicked my ankle with his expensive sneakers. Picking the Meat Sack would be standing up to him like I did, even if it meant things were going to be harder for me.

  Besides, what would Mizaguchi think of me if I ever met him? I’d thought about it many times, and when I pictured myself shaking his hand and describing to him how I’d picked the hardest class in the game and had not only survived, but had flourished, I knew the decision I had to make.

  “Fuck it,” I said out loud to the sweet, tranquil face of the Blood Princess. “I laugh in the face of adversity.”

  Without another second of hesitation, I pressed the bloody tip of my index finger against the scroll, leaving a crimson fingerprint beside the words.

  Meat Sack, I thought. Has a nice ring to it!

  6

  The Bullet and the Blade

  “A Seeker’s weapon should not be simply a tool—it should be part of the Seeker’s body, the way an arm or a leg is a vital part of their anatomy, so should a blade be, for it is the difference between life and death.”

  —from the journals of Ines the Black of the Order of the Raven

  “Seeker,” the Princess said softly as she rolled up the scroll. “You are brave indeed. None before you have chosen your path. I commend thee, but I also fear for you.”

  “Don’t worry yourself, darlin’,” I joked, feeling a renewed confidence rising within me like a warm wave. “I’ll be just fine.”

  I thought I saw a faint smile cross the Princess’ thin lips, but if it was there, it was gone in an instant.

  “It is time for you to gaze into the bath.” She waved her hand to the still waters beside her, and I slowly approached. I looked down to see my reflection, perfect and accurate, staring back at me. As though it were within the water, a character creation interface appeared.

  Clever, I thought with a smile as I designed my look. I kept my face as it was, for the most part, only adding a few years to harden me up. I kept my hair as it was, medium length and slightly shaggy, added another fifteen pounds of muscle or so, and I was finished. I closed the interface and heard a confirmation chime from somewhere.

  A strange sensation whisked through me, like an electric river tumbling through my mind, spilling through my grey matter in a circular sweeping motion. I short-circuited, stammered and blinked a few times as though clearing a fuzz from my mind.

  What was that? The game syncing up with my consciousness? I looked back at The Princess. She was on her feet now, a curious smile on her face. Without another word, she turned her back to me and began to walk away, seeming to float as the hem of her dress hid her feet from me. The flowers and vines seemed to follow her as she passed. I had no choice but to follow.

  With a wave of her hand, a door swung open. I hadn’t seen it before, as it had been hidden behind a carpet of vegetation. It seemed to lead to some kind of small closet, and as I grew closer, I saw weapons lining the walls and felt my inner gamer start to freak out.

  Starter weapons!

  The Princess stopped at the door and stepped aside to allow me to pass. “Choose wisely,” she told me. “Decisions carry great weight in this world.”

  “I don’t doubt it,” I told her as I stepped into the small room.

  Five melee weapons hung on the wall from rusted iron pegs. The first was a large square knife made from a thick slab of cold steel. I lifted it from the wall and an item description appeared in the corner of my vision.

  Butcher’s Blade: A worn blade favored by those who delight in close quarters combat and bathing in the blood spray of their enemies. Crafted from a metal that barely passes as steel, and a handle turned from Bloodwood, The Butcher’s Blade carves flesh, both alive and dead, with an equal lack of precision.

  Physical Attack: 95

  Attribute Bonus:

  Strength: E

  Skill: D

  The “lack of precision” made me chuckle. No doubt a little insiders’ joke to the quality of starter weapons. The attribute bonuses, from what I understood, went from A to E and determined the damage bonus that related to the specific attribute. Each letter increased that bonus by an increment of 5%. So, the Butcher’s Blade was a better skill weapon than strength, with a 10% damage bonus.

  I set it down and picked up the next weapon, a rapier with a black steel hand guard.

  Bloodletter: A fast, distinguished weapon for the discerning gentleman who likes to open the necks of his foes and still look proper while doing it! Can also be used to open letters.

  Physical Attack: 78

  Attribute Bonus:

  Strength: E

  Skill: C

  Again, I chuckled, set it aside and moved on to the next.

  Loathsome Axe: Forget about chopping trees with this, and go and find yourselves some heads to free from their bodies! Favored by those who like a little bit of distance between themselves and their prey, but still enjoy a little old fashioned hack and slash.

  Physical Attack: 110

  Attribute Bonus:

  Strength: D

  Skill: E

  The axe itself looked badass, with a chunky iron head, a cutting edge that gleamed as though yearning for blood, and a four sided spike at the top for stabbing attacks. The wooden handle looked like it had seen years of wear, and was wrapped tightly in certain spots with crusted bandages. I was tempted to pick it right away, but I was a curious gamer, and had to at least check out the other options.

  Bone of a Great One: A caster’s bread and butter, carved from the femur bone (or is it a rib?) of a Great One. It feels strange to the touch, as though a minor electrical current runs through its marrow.

  Magical Attack: 80

  Attribute Bonus:

  Intellect: C

  “Pssh,” I scoffed, hanging it back on its pegs. “Spells are for pussies.�
�� I felt the same way about magic in MMOs as I felt about snipers in FPS. Where was the fun in standing back at a distance? I liked getting in there and getting my hands dirty—or bloody.

  Mortician’s Scalpel: Razor sharp blade used by Morticians when dissecting a body. It is said that sane men went mad once they felt the sweet cutting sensations of steel flaying open the flesh of a recently deceased corpse.

  Physical Attack: 82

  Attribute Bonus:

  Strength: D

  Skill: C

  Gruesome, I thought, setting it back on the wall. It was obviously a very close-range weapon, but I’d chosen to be a Meat Sack, and as a result, was sporting the lowest amount of HP in the game. It would probably be better to pick the Loathsome Axe so I could fight at medium range. Plus, it looked way cooler.

  I grabbed it off the wall, opened my character sheet and saw the icon in my inventory. Using two fingers, I dragged and dropped it into my main hand weapon slot and heard a satisfying metallic click as it equipped.

  The axe felt solid and natural in my hand. Its handle was long enough that I could rest it on the floor and the blade would be at about shoulder level, but it was light enough that I could choke up on the handle and wield it with one hand. I gave it a few practice swings to get the feel.

  “Awesome,” I said to myself, and was about to turn back to The Princess, when I saw another rack of weapons on the wall to my right.

  Oh, Hell yeah, I thought as I eyed the three guns. Another one of Mizaguchi’s genre breaking conventions, Blood Seekers included firearms. From what I gathered, they were primarily used as off-hand weapons as a method of riposting, interrupting an enemy’s attack and leaving them open to a strong counter. Riposting required impeccable timing and high skill, which of course meant it was something I was determined to master.

  They looked antiquated, like something from hundreds of years ago, their bodies wooden and their metal fittings faded gold and bronze. The first was a rifle with a chestnut colored stock and a long black barrel. I examined it.

  Winchester:

  Ranged Attack: “The gun that won the West!” Lever-action repeating rifle favored by those who like to stand back and pick ‘em off from a distance! Long range. Requires both hands. Single shot. 10 round magazines. No riposte.

  Ranged Attack: 83

  Attribute Bonus:

  Viletaint: C

  So that’s what Viletaint is for, I realized. Skill and Strength were the melee scaling skills, and Viletaint was for ranged weapons.

  “No riposte and sniper bullshit?” I scoffed, replacing the Winchester on the wall. “No thank you!” Next up was a dark steel revolver with a heavy wooden handle, intricately carved skulls forming the gnarled grip.

  Six Shooter: When your back’s against the wall, a trusty revolver will never fail you. Never jams, quick loading and packs a wallop. Medium range. Medium riposte.

  Ranged Damage: 45

  Attribute Bonus:

  Viletaint: C

  “Not bad, not bad,” I mused, setting it back on the wall, but the remaining gun had my attention for some reason. It wasn’t like any firearm I’d ever seen. It was hefty, thicker than the Winchester and the Six Shooter, but stubby like a sawed-off shotgun. Its thick black barrel sat atop a full block of rich, coffee colored wood, and flared out at the end like a trumpet.

  Archaic Blunderbuss: If you’re looking for long range, forget the Blunderbuss. But if you need to pack a whack at very close range, this puppy is for you! Anything beyond a few feet though, and you’re screwed. Forget about all that aiming nonsense, just point in the general direction and squeeze! Guaranteed results every time. High spread. High riposte.

  Ranged Damage: 55 (-20% per foot away from target)

  Attribute Bonus:

  Viletaint: D

  That’s the one, I thought as I opened my character sheet and dragged it over to my off-hand slot. The same satisfying metallic click rang out as I brandished the gun, and a stack of bullets appeared in my inventory: Blunder Slugs—More than just your average musket ball!

  “Damn, this game is great,” I said, spinning the Blunderbuss around my index finger like a lone gunslinger would do after dispatching a crew of bandits intent on his destruction.

  Gun and axe in hand, finally feeling confident, I turned around and strode back into the Princess’ room where she stood waiting. I felt a strange attraction to her, and wondered if that was Mizaguchi toying with us dude gamers, presenting us with a beautiful girl right after sending a Ravenous Beast to tear us to pieces. Maybe she was about to stab me in the back and send me on my way with absolutely nothing?

  “Seeker,” she said softly. “I see you have chosen. The time has come for you to pursue your destiny.”

  The Princess took a swift step towards me and raised both hands to my cheeks. Her eyes were sad, as though she pitied me for some reason. I opened my mouth to speak, but before I could get a word out, a silver glow swept out from her hands and enveloped my body. I felt something tugging at my insides, like the secret machinery of the universe pulling me away through a dimensional curtain.

  “Farewell, good Seeker,” the Princess cooed as the world morphed and swelled with darkness. “May the path of the blood favor you.”

  And with one final tug, I felt myself whisked away to somewhere unknown.

  7

  The Weeping Hills

  “The Hills were a peaceful place once—not the loveliest village, but peaceful nonetheless. The plague was unexpected, impossible to deal with. The madness tore through us, turning neighbor against neighbor and sending some fleeing into the hills and woods. Will we ever be the same as we were?”

  —from “Notes on the Plague,” by Winter Hawthorne

  I landed, or rather materialized—or something in between—on a rocky crag blanketed by suffering ashen grass and patches of silver lichen. The ground in front of me rose and fell like waves of stone, but eventually sloped down to a feeble excuse for a town: several ramshackle buildings, slanted and sideways, huddled together in a basin that looked as though it had been blasted into existence.

  To my right, the crag went on and on into a bank of heavy, wet fog. Behind me, and wrapping all the way around the town, was a thick wood made up of sickly trees and twisted vegetation that seemed to be fighting to take over. Strong grey clouds hung in the sky, and a full silver moon pierced through the night, casting hard shadows across everything it touched.

  I looked around, twisting the hilt of my axe in my right hand, my eyes open for other players, but it seemed like I was alone.

  Where are you, Rey? I thought, remembering what she’d told me about party members supposedly spawning together. Maybe she hadn’t finished up her character creation. Or maybe it was just another one of Mizaguchi’s tricks designed to mess with players. Either way, she wasn’t with me.

  The sound of voices rang out across the rugged bluff. It seemed like the logical place to go, so I shouldered my axe and started walking.

  There were no obvious monsters or signs of life that I could see. It was desolate, like a place frozen in time after an unspeakable tragedy. As I grew closer to town, I saw a poor excuse for a path cutting a snake-like line through the crag. I stepped down to it, creating a cascade of pebbles and broken stone with the heel of my shoe.

  I followed the old road, only wide enough for one, to a knife-slash crevice through a thick rise in the stone. As I passed through, I noticed several wooden signs hammered into the exposed rock with thick iron spikes:

  TURN BACK, YOU POOR WRETCHES!!

  DEATH LIES BEYOND!

  NO HOPE FOR YOU HERE!!!!

  I heard a sound like water dripping and looked over to see a blood-like substance oozing out of small pores in the rock. Part of me wanted to reach out and touch it, but the gamer inside me was screaming, “No, you idiot! It’s poison or toxin!” I ignored it and pressed on.

  Finally, I emerged from the pass. The road widened slightly and I came to a cracked wooden sig
n, mounted on a thick post that had been hammered into the ground.

  The Weeping Hills.

  “Guess this is my starter town,” I said softly as I walked down the slope of the basin to the haggard old huts. The sound of player voices grew louder as I passed a two-story shack made from old grey siding and a roof missing more than half its tiles. “Nice place.”

  The town was built around a square lined with cobblestone pavers just slightly larger than an average brick. Many of them poked up at odd angles as though they’d been torn up by a storm, and others were simply missing altogether.

  A small group of players were clustered around a wrought iron lamppost that leaned precariously to one side. It glowed with a ghostly silver-purple light. And then I saw her.

  Rey.

  It didn’t look exactly like her, but in the same way that my character was basically an idealized version of my real-life self, Rey’s was too.

  Her hair was longer, chestnut brown and wavy. She wore a long crimson dress like something out of Victorian times, that cinched tightly at the waist, with a long suede duster jacket that hung down past her knees. She looked completely badass—and also, though I found it hard to admit to myself having known her for so long, kind of hot.

  “Rey!” I called out. She was talking to someone—a man wearing a close-fitting pair of black pants with a white dress shirt and a black vest. He was holding a Bone of the Great One. She turned and waved excitedly.

  “Clay!” As she raced over to me, I felt like I was finally getting my feet under me. Mizaguchi had done a flawless job so far creating a game that completely subverted my expectations, but seeing my friend in game for the first time had me feeling more confident than ever. I couldn’t wait to see her reaction when she saw what origin type I had chosen. Her information appeared as I held my gaze on her.