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Spy: Reborn

Page 11

by Angie A Huxley


  Brier moved into the center of the field and made a few practice swings with the enchanted cutlass. “Surprise me, buddy.”

  “Okay,” said the half-orc, “let’s try this.”

  He selected from the option menu on the screen, and a soft blue light shimmered on the pedestal.

  Participant level scaling selected… standby for training exercise…

  Hulking Werewolf Simulacrum summoned!

  A few moments later, the simulacrum appeared and padded down into the field to face Brier. The werewolf was a perfect replica of one of the monsters players were likely to face in the game world, only it was programmed to be used for training purposes. It even matched Brier’s level—5—with stats scaled down so that the gnoll Mercenary could have a chance to fight it in fair combat. A replicated simulacra could inflict the same kind of damage as an enemy out on the field but it couldn’t kill the player, only beat them down to exhaustion, and it left behind no experience orbs when it was killed.

  The others watched with interest as it waited obediently for Brier to give the order to attack.

  When he did, the werewolf came on all claws and fangs. Brier brought the cutlass up in a clumsy defense, taken off balance by the weight of the weapon despite his high strength stat. He quickly got used to using the sword and pushed back at the monster. The air filled with the sharp smell of ozone as the cutlass’ lightning power rippled through the blade’s metal, adding extra damage to Brier’s attacks.

  Kurtz and the Manticore Crew called out with cries of encouragement as Brier ploughed into the werewolf. Despite the gnoll’s advantage of natural strength coupled with the power of the magical weapon, the werewolf still possessed the tough hide and unmatched savagery of its monster counterpart. The battle was fierce and hard going, but Brier soon gained the upper hand thanks to the stunning effects of the cutlass’ lightning damage. He dealt the werewolf several devastating blows to its health bar before spinning out of the way of the monster’s claws and delivering a flawless backstab that abruptly ended the battle.

  Everyone cheered except Argo as Brier took a bow. Henk went up and inspected the cutlass. “That’s a good weapon, Kurtz.”

  “Too right,” replied Brier. “I’m almost as comfortable using it as I am with my battle-axe.”

  “You want to try it out, Henk?” Kurtz asked.

  “Yes please,” replied the Paladin.

  “Wait a minute, I’m only just warming up,” said Brier. “That fleabag was a walk in the park. I want a real challenge.”

  Kurtz laughed and went back to the pedestal computer. “Oh right. Okay, try this on for size.” Kurtz pressed at the screen and fiddled around with it for a bit.

  Manual simulacrum level selected… standby for training exercise…

  Ogre Warlord Simulacrum summoned!

  “Level 10,” said Kip. “You don’t stand a chance, Brier.”

  “We’ll see,” said the gnoll, hefting his blade as he studied his opponent’s blood-red armor and intimidatingly oversized machete. “Shall we get a tournament going? See how many monsters each of us can take down with the cutlass?”

  “Now you’re talking,” said Aaheli. “What about Sonia and Argo though? They’re not fighter classes.”

  “I’ll scale the levels down for you two, pick monsters with simpler attack patterns,” Kurtz said, “And you can borrow my bracer if you need it.”

  With that decided, Brier got to work facing off against the warlord. Sonia went back into the inn to get a fresh round of drinks and Argo finished the rest of his mead while she was gone. He knew he shouldn’t have any more alcohol, but when a fresh goblet arrived he set the potency to red again.

  By the time it was his turn to fight, Argo had almost finished this second goblet and the world was beginning to spin all around him. Aaheli, realizing he was a little worse for wear, came and took his arm.

  “Argo? Are you okay?”

  “Sure,” Argo said defensively, the second drink making him even surlier than he had been before. “Why? What’s the problem?”

  “You tell me,” the girl said with a scowl. She looked at the almost empty goblet and her eyes widened. “You haven’t set your mead levels to red alcoholic, have you?”

  “Okay it’s your turn, little bro,” Kurtz called from the pedestal, unaware that there was anything wrong.

  “This should be good,” Kip said to Brier, sniggering into his sleeve.

  Argo glared at the Mage and stalked into the center of the training field. Sonia, who had just finished dueling with a skeleton warrior, and was now low on health and stamina, passed him the weapon.

  He took it without saying thanks and nearly dropped it, unprepared for how heavy it was.

  Cutlass of Captain Mange equipped… (10 slashing damage, +5 lightning damage with 10% chance to stun target for 0.5 seconds)

  Warning: Cutlass of Captain Mange requires a minimum 15 strength to use effectively (-10% attack speed and accuracy per lacking point of strength)

  “Here,” said Sonia, taking off Kurtz’s bracer and strapping it to his arm. “This will help.”

  Sharkskin Bracer equipped… (+2 strength, 30% damage reduction when used to block slash-type attacks, mitigates 50% of strength-based penalties on equipment.)

  The bracer made the cutlass feel somewhat lighter, allowing him to hold the hefty weapon up to his chest. The reduction to strength penalties was a huge factor, allowing even low-strength classes such as his Bard to use heavier weapons a little bit more effectively.

  The others were all watching him now, and he bristled with anger.

  Why were they even bothering? They all thought he was useless, a joke who couldn’t make it in the game world. He was a lousy Bard and a lousy actor. He was no good for anything and everyone would be better off without him.

  “You sure you’re ready?” Kurtz asked. He was looking at Argo funnily, realizing that the Bard had had too much to drink.

  “Yes,” Argo said impatiently. “Let’s just…*erp* Let’s just get this over with.”

  Kurtz did a little half-shrug and tapped the computer screen.

  Manual simulacrum level selected… standby for training exercise…

  Boggart Simulacrum summoned!

  A particularly nasty-looking level 02 Boggart with 40 HP appeared on the pedestal and scampered down to the training field. It waddled unarmored, bearing a short curved dagger and a small buckler. Totally unintimidating for most players.

  Argo glowered at the little creature, imagining it was his papa, and clutched the cutlass in both of his hands. “Come on!” he yelled.

  The boggart sprang into life and rushed towards him, letting out a high-pitched squeal. Argo raised the cutlass above his head and brought it down in a savage chopping motion.

  Slash! Argo misses his attack, dealing 0 damage.

  The boggart sprang out of the path of the blade at the last moment and Argo tottered forward, his arms plunging downwards.

  Boggart slashes with its kris, dealing 4 damage.

  The boggart scored a hit to the side of Argo’s chest, delivering a surge of pain and robbing him of 4 health points. Argo yelled out in frustration and swung out at the monster.

  Slash! Argo misses his attack, dealing 0 damage.

  His strike was horrendously clumsy and slow, more from his alcohol-induced rage than the strength penalties. He just wanted to hit as hard as he could, swing with all his might, to vent his frustration at nothing and at everything around him.

  No surprise that the boggart easily dodged it, smacking Argo in the chin with a backhand as he did so.

  Boggart strikes with its bare hand, dealing 5 stamina damage.

  Critical counter-attack to the head registered, receiving 2x stamina damage (10 stamina damage) and a 1-second stun!

  Stars flashed in front of Argo’s eyes and he staggered
forward. He raised the cutlass again but the mead he had drunk left him unable to properly coordinate his movements. As it went up over his head, he loosed it from his sweaty palms and lost his balance. He landed hard on his butt with his legs splayed in the air.

  Kip howled with laughter as the boggart brought home the attack, its shoddy dagger plunging down toward his heart. Argo flinched, bringing his arms up to shield his face before yelling “Stop!” at the top of his voice.

  Stop command registered… terminating training exercise.

  The others were laughing as well now, including Kurtz.

  Argo stared at them and tears stung his eyes. “Shut up!” he shouted. “Shut up all ‘f you!”

  “Hey now, Argo, calm down,” said Henk, advancing towards him. “Are you okay? Have you been drinking the mead at its full potency?”

  “No wonder he’s been acting weird,” said Kip, immediately ceasing his laughter. He stepped closer, studied Argo’s stat sheet, and shook his head in disapproval. “Yup, that’s an Intoxication debuff alright. And pretty bad too, from the looks of it.”

  “Leave me alone!” Argo moaned and lurched to his feet. He sobbed openly now, big fat tears dripping down as his cheeks burned with both shame and horror.

  The others stopped laughing and were staring at him uncomfortably, dropping all signs of levity. He made eye-contact with Kurtz who was now looking confused by the situation, and could take it no longer.

  Hard shutdown command received… ejecting user from Astra-verse.

  CAUTION!

  Bypassing neural recalibration process!

  CAUTION!

  Prepare for cognitive dissonance!

  CAUTION!

  Argo screamed as his astral-bubble popped open, punching and kicking at the air. The plugs to his neural implant snapped free as he pushed himself off, his intoxication carrying over from the virtual to the real world. This was to be expected from someone who forcefully terminated their connection to the Astra-verse, triggering the emergency shutdown protocol instead of waiting for the astral-bubble to wipe away the neural imprints in his mind.

  Argo whipped his head left and right, looking for an escape route. Hot tears and sticky snot poured down his face as he threw open the door, not even sparing a glance at Aaheli’s room as he ran away. He jumped into the elevator, mashing his fingers at the thing’s retro-chic buttons and ignoring the voice calling out in concern. His sobs drowned out her cries to wait, to tell her what the hell was wrong.

  Argo ran away from Mandolin Heights wearing nothing but his pajamas, paying no attention to the puzzled stares of both man and bot alike as he dashed toward the empty beach. Staggering across the sands, he made for a shelf of rock that stood out like a black wedge against the night sky. The exertion of running combined with the virtual mead he had drunk quickly took its toll, and he had to hunch over to puke when he reached the rock shelf. His throat felt like it was on fire as he ejected the contents of his stomach and his body became drenched in an icy sweat.

  He cussed the Astra-verse then, wishing with all his might that the devs would get fired for their pursuit of realism.

  When he was done with the deed, his limbs felt like concrete and he curled up into a protective ball on the sand. He was still like that when Aaheli found him.

  “Argo,” she whispered in alarm as she ran over to him and crouched down. “Argo, are you okay?”

  “L’ve me alone,” Argo slurred, the alcohol still muddling his brain and lips.

  Aaheli put her hand on his shoulder and rolled him over to face her. “Argo, this has gone on long enough. What is the matter?”

  “Ju’s too mch t’ drnk,” Argo mumbled. “Be kay inna mnute or tu. Pl… Please, jush… just leave me alone.”

  Aaheli shook her head and brushed his damp hair away from his face. “Oh Argo, you silly boy. What’s going on? You never touch the alcohol settings on your drinks. Tell me what’s going on. Has something happened at the theater, or… or with your family?”

  The look of concern in her liquid dark eyes was too much for him, and Argo started crying again. Aaheli put her arms around him and got him into a sitting position. She held him to her and rubbed his back as he sobbed into her tunic. The wracking cries forced another round of vomiting, but his friend managed to scoot over the side before his heaves splattered puke all over her.

  “There, Argo, let it out,” Aaheli said in a soothing voice as she rubbed his back. “Shh…. it’s okay, babe. It’s okay.”

  “I’m sorry,” Argo sobbed as he regained control over his tongue. “I’m so sorry.”

  “You don’t have to be sorry about anything, silly,” Aaheli said. “You just had too much to drink, that’s all. Though to be honest… what were you thinking boosting up the alcohol like that? That was the Astra-verse, yes, but you know you’re not used to the feeling of getting drunk. At least not on that level… jeez, what did you do, turn mead into vodka?”

  Argo wiped his eyes and parted from the embrace. “That’s not what I’m sorry about. There’s something I need to tell you.”

  Aaheli listened as Argo told her about his mother’s visit and the announcement that his family was going to cut off his allowance, making it impossible to afford to live in the city anymore. He also told her about his plan to take the sedatives and end it all, though he didn’t really mean to. Once he started talking, he couldn’t stop himself from telling her everything. He’d been holding his fears and pains down for so long it came as a relief to just pour them out to someone else—someone he could trust.

  Aaheli nodded after he’d finished. “I knew something was really upsetting you. I didn’t know it was this serious.”

  “I’m sorry,” Argo said again. “I didn’t know what else to do. I feel so trapped.”

  “The first thing you’re going to do is get rid of those sedatives,” Aaheli said firmly. “You must never let things get so desperate that you have to resort to that, you understand? Just come to me and talk if you ever feel like that again.”

  “To tell the truth, now I’ve spoken it out loud, I’m not sure I’d have even been able to go through with it, or actually make a proper job of it. I… probably couldn’t even get my own suicide right. Probably end up puking my guts all over the bedroom only to live through it. Get hauled off by med-drones to be chalked down as a failed suicide. Hah. Another failure… story of my life.”

  “Don’t think about it,” replied Aaheli, “and don’t worry about money either. I’ll cover the rent for now, until we figure something out.”

  Argo shook his head. “I can’t expect you to carry me. I have to pay my share.”

  “You can keep helping as much as you can, Argo, but I can afford to cover the rent with this new job. All that matters now is to get you feeling better.”

  “Fat chance of that,” Argo said miserably. “I’m only ever happy when I’m acting, even if I suck at it. Without my papa’s money, I won’t even be able to do that anymore. He… they took my acting away from me.”

  “No they haven’t,” Aaheli said. “Struggling actors can still make it big even when they hold down two or more jobs. We’re going to keep you in the city no matter what. You’re my best friend and I’m not going to let your family take you away from me. More importantly, I refuse to see you give up on your dreams that easily.”

  Argo looked at her in surprise, overwhelmed at how much she cared for him. “You… you’re going to help me? You think there’s a chance I could stay in the city?”

  “I’ll find a way, don’t worry about that,” Aaheli said. “When you first came here, you were far shyer, more inhibited than you are now. You couldn’t even talk to a stranger and look them in the eye. No, I’m going to make sure you become the actor that you want to be… but you’re going to have to do the work too, okay?”

  Argo nodded a little hesitantly. He couldn’t see how Aaheli would help him turn things around but he couldn’t refuse her he
lp. He felt a sense of relief telling her his predicament and was bolstered by her support.

  “First of all, you need some rest, some time away from it all. That means staying away from the Nightingale because that’s getting you down, right?”

  “Too right,” chuckled Argo darkly, the old wounds opening up. “It’s horrible there at the moment.”

  “I’ll call in on Monday to tell them that you’re sick,” Aaheli said, her mind whirring as she prepared her plan of action. “You can have a week off and get some rest—proper rest in both mind and body. The rent’s been covered for this month so you don’t need to worry about that, but I don’t want you moping or dwelling on your problems. Perhaps you should spend more time in Drake Realm.”

 

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