by A. M. Sohma
The Luckless
Second Age of Retha
A. M. Sohma
THE LUCKLESS
Copyright © 2016 by A. M. Sohma
Cover design by Myrrhlynn
Cover art by Nibelart
Edited by Jeri Larsen
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any number whatsoever without written permission of the author, except in the case of quotations embodied in articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or historic events is entirely coincidental.
www.amsohma.com
Created with Vellum
Contents
1. Choose Your Character
2. An Enemy Approaches
3. Party Formation
4. Luminos
5. The Loft
6. Select Crafting Class
7. A New Quest Received
8. Combat Training Required
9. Brunascar: A Dwarven Stronghold
10. Gearing Up
11. Enter the Dragons’ Den
12. Status Ailment: Curse
13. Elven Reputation
14. The Hermit of Love
15. The Ultimate Sacrifice
16. Final Battle
17. Pledged Protection
Afterword
About the Author
1
Choose Your Character
Kit logged into her gaming session peacefully, keeping her eyes closed as the game integrated her consciousness with its system.
She felt the cushy softness of grass cradle her, and the air smelled clean and crisp. In the distance, she heard a cow moo and a dog bark.
Kit smiled and shifted slightly, testing her body function control. Logging into a game was a slightly discombobulating experience for the brain, so it was better to take the first few minutes easy.
She relaxed and gave herself a moment to adapt. It was then that she faintly heard a steady, metallic beat. The perfectly timed tempo sounded suspiciously like a blacksmith hammering a horseshoe. But that was wrong. It had to be wrong. Kit had used her game card to purchase the Sky’s End experience—a sci-fi game. Blacksmiths and swords did not belong in it.
Kit snapped her eyes open and shot upright. She blinked in the abrupt sunlight, but from her position on the grassy hillside, she could see perfectly into the medieval-esque village—complete with thatched roof cottages—and the pastureland that stretched around it. Far off on the horizon, snowcapped mountains pierced the air, and Kit thought she could make out the form of a dragon flying in the sky. “No. No!”
As if brought on by her disbelief, huge golden letters the size of elephants appeared in the sky, spelling out, “Welcome to Retha. Your adventure awaits!”
“Dang it!” Frustrated, Kit plucked a wad of grass and threw it at the letters before they dissipated. “What possessed that game architect to ignore my request? I was very clear I wanted —” she cut herself off as she ran a hand through her hair and her wrist brushed the tapered tips of her ear. “Oh, no.”
With new dread, Kit scrambled to her feet. “Show character screen,” she ordered the interface.
A transparent screen marked off with glowing lines appeared in front of her, swirling for a moment before displaying an image of her character: a long-legged female elf that sported Kit’s natural dark brown eye color and hair a decidedly unnatural shade of champagne pink. Granted, it was a light, rosy gold color, but it was undisputedly pink. Kit narrowed her eyes until they were little more than slits. “Bryce,” she growled as she flicked the screen away.
Kit’s cousin, Bryce, had to be the culprit behind this prank. Bryce worked for Eternal Chase—the parent company of both Sky’s End and Chronicles of Retha—as one of several community managers for Retha. As an employee, he would easily be able to create a new character under her login information.
But how did he get me dumped in here? Did he put some kind of note in my user profile?
Kit sighed. “It makes no difference. I’ll twist it out of him when I get out of here. But where—” She froze as she brushed grass off herself and her palms touched silk. She peered down at her clothes and opened and closed her mouth several times.
Her character was dressed in a flimsy golden skirt that had strings of coins layered around the waist, gold sandals, and a closely tailored shirt made of gold silk that cut off at her ribcage and boasted short sleeves made of the same flimsy cloth as her skirt.
“Show character panel.” Kit bit her lip in worry and tapped one sandaled foot on the ground as the display popped up. She peered at her character information and felt the blood drain from her face.
“I’m going to stalk you at night and shave off all your hair, Bryce!” Kit howled at the blue sky when she could finally spit out the words.
It wasn’t bad enough that she was an elf. She was also one of the most useless character classes to ever grace Retha’s soil: a dancer.
Shortly before waking up in a fantasy game as a joke of a character, Kittredge—or Kit as most called her—adjusted her earpiece as she strode across the mall, listening to her cousin chatter.
“And then Chalupa ate the cord to my submersion headset! I had to call the rental company and see if animal damage was covered on the renters’ insurance,” Bryce said.
“And was it?”
“Yes, though I had to argue for half an hour that even though he is a rat, Chalupa is my daughter’s pet and not a pest,” Bryce said.
“This is why you should have just bought her a pony when she was little.” Kit glanced at the giant clock that hung on the mall wall as her cousin scoffed. “In any case,” she continued, “I have to go.”
“Oh, are you at the arcade?”
“Just about.”
“You’re going to an EC arcade, right?”
Kit struggled momentarily to adjust her backpack—which contained her work laptop—and didn’t answer.
“Kit, you’re not betraying me, are you?”
“Sorry. Of course not,” Kit said. (Since Bryce had become an Eternal Chase employee years prior, he had turned into a zealot for EC games.) “I’m going to the West Towne Mall EC arcade.”
“Nice choice—they just remodeled their full submersion units.”
“It won’t make much difference to me, as long as I don’t get a crick in my neck while I’m out of it.”
“You won’t,” Bryce promised. “Be sure to have a pleasant time!”
Slightly weirded out by his overly friendly tone, Kit paused. “Thanks…”
“Mmhmm! I’m sure you’ll be dancing with glee.”
She frowned. “That would be a little weird, honestly.”
“Oh?”
“I’m planning on playing Sky’s End—the alien invasion game. I can’t really see myself doing much of anything gleefully in there besides shooting aliens.” She peered up and down the main drag of the mall, then found the correct side hallway and trotted down it, doing her best to avoid making eye contact with the rather pushy kiosk employees situated in the center of the hallway. (The last time she had mistakenly glanced at them, she had walked away with three bottles of lotion, a huge box of chocolate truffles, and a foot massager.)
“Why don’t you play one of the fantasy games? Like Dragon Rider or Chronicles of Retha?” Bryce asked.
Kit almost collided with a kid that came pelting out of a shoe store.
“I’ve only occasionally played Dragon Rider with you, and I haven’t logged into Retha in years.”
“True,” Bryce said. “But maybe it would be worth a laugh to check it out again.”
“Yeah, some other time,” Kit said.
“We’ll see.”
“What was that?”
“Nothing! I should let you go—have fun!”
“Thanks.” Her earpiece beeped, signaling Bryce had ended the call before she could say anything more. Kit swerved around a couple holding hands, then paused outside the darkened doors of the EC arcade. She glanced up at the glowing neon sign that read Eternal Chase—we’re waiting for you, slipped her earpiece off, shoved it into one of her backpack pockets, and then entered the arcade.
The arcade itself was dimly lit, but the area flashed with lights from the screens that advertised its game lineup. Whatever floor tile she set foot on glowed like the night sky and emitted a rush of orchestra music. Cold air blasted down on her, and the screens on the wall flickered when she drew closer to them, rearranging so they displayed 3D advertisements of the games she had played the last few times she visited an EC arcade. An image of a dragon leaped off one of the displays as a warrior from the next screen over shot an arrow at it.
Kit ignored the advertisements and trotted up to the ticket counters, which blocked off the way to the submersion rooms.
Most of the game architects were already serving other players, but Kit spotted an empty slot and approached, smiling cheerfully at the architect—a guy who wore the blue and silver EC uniform and was probably a university student.
“Welcome to the Eternal Chase Arcade—where your adventure is our story,” he said, breaking off to cough into his elbow. “How can I help you today?”
“Hi, I’d like to purchase a two-hour submersion game,” Kit said.
“Okay.” The game architect rubbed his nose and sniffed. “Do you have your login information?”
Kit held out her cellphone and bumped it against the architect’s tablet, loading up her gamer ID on the countertop screens.
“Welcome back, Kit. Do you know what game you would like to experience today?” His fingers flew across his keyboard as he paged through Kit’s profile.
“Yeah, Sky’s End.”
The architect paused. “Really? You don’t want to try a multiplayer game—an MMORPG, perhaps?”
Kit wrinkled her forehead in confusion. She hadn’t played a MMORPG—or massively multiplayer online role playing game—in a long time. For at least five years now she had almost exclusively played single-player games. “No. I’m not interested in multiplayer games.”
“But you’ve played some recently…for instance, Chronicles of Retha.”
Kit blinked, getting a sense of déjà vu from her conversation with her cousin. “I haven’t played Retha recently.”
The architect tucked his head into his neck. “Yeah, um, but your profile shows you used to be an avid Retha adventurer,” the architect said.
“Used to be,” Kit stressed.
“Did Chronicles of Retha fail to meet your expectations?”
“No, it just doesn’t interest me anymore,” Kit said. In truth Retha had been the last multiplayer game she seriously played, and she hadn’t returned to it since Bryce had been hired by EC, and the guild they had been a part of left the game. “So, yeah. Sky’s End, please.”
“Retha has better reviews, and a new expansion just launched: Sword of Deceit,” he said.
“I don’t care. I want to play Sky’s End.” Kit held up her phone again, waiting to pay.
The game architect tapped his fingers on the desk for a moment, then reluctantly bumped his tablet against her phone, completing the transaction. “Your account has been billed,” he said. “Here is your EC gauntlet, which contains all the information about your experience today.” He passed over a metal cuff that had stylized edges, several plug ins for the submersion units, and snapped around the player’s wrist.
It looked more like a piece of jewelry than an ID bracelet, but that was one of the many touches EC used. It was an expensive gaming company to go with, but they were stubborn in their desire to give users a high quality experience in all areas of their business.
“Your submersion unit is in the Atlantis wing, room number three.” The game architect pointed out one of the hallways that broke off from the main room with the tired expression of someone who had done so hundreds of times before. “I’ll send your information ahead; they’ll be waiting for you.”
The little gate next to his counter swung open, letting Kit through.
“Thanks,” she said.
The game architect nodded, but his focus was on his computer as he finished up her order.
Kit made her way to the directed room. The floor picked up on the signal from her EC gauntlet and began displaying blue arrows to steer her in the right direction. She hitched her backpack higher up her shoulders and smiled.
It had been at least a month since she had been to an arcade, and her apartment wasn’t configured for a submersion hookup, so she hadn’t been able to play a game since.
With the launch of full-submersion games, video game companies had begun building their own arcades for a truly immersive experience in which the game would feel, to the player, like reality. A secondary market had opened up for home submersion units. The units were too expensive to buy outright, so gaming companies brought in most of their revenue by renting out submersion units tailored for their games. The rented units weren’t quite as good as an arcade experience—they were smaller and didn’t have as much processing power—so while the game felt realistic, players wouldn’t experience as wide of a variety of smells, tastes, and textures.
Unfortunately, after graduating college and acquiring her first job approximately five years ago, Kit had taken up residence in an older apartment complex that hadn’t been outfitted with the necessary cables and life-support systems that the submersion units required, so visiting arcades were her only option if she wanted to play a submersion game.
Still following the floor arrows, Kit approached a submersion room.
She held her gauntlet to a panel next to the door, and a light blinked above it. A woman who was perhaps in her mid-forties popped out of the room. Her short, messy red hair was pushed back from her face, and a pair of EC-blue glasses were propped up on the top of her head. She had a stylus clamped between her teeth like a cigar, and she squinted at her tablet screen until she flicked her glasses down over her nose. “Kittredge?”
“Kit, yes.”
“Come on in. Changing rooms are located at the back of the room—follow the blue lights.” The woman marched off to an empty submersion tank without bothering to check that Kit followed her instructions.
Kit took a moment to let her eyes adjust to the darkened room—illuminated only by floor lights, monitors, and soothing blue lights that pulsed on and off in the submersion units—which were basically glass bathtubs that held sleeping players and the tubes and plugs used for the submersion experience.
She slid her backpack off her shoulders and made her way to the changing rooms, exchanging her clothes for a wetsuit and locking her things in a foot locker located under a bench.
Once ready, she slipped out of the changing room, and the older woman waved her over to a submersion unit that churned as it filled with water.
“Hop in,” the woman said. “Unless you want a new image scan of your body? The scan will be used so your in-game character closely resembles you—should you desire it.”
Kit dipped her toe in, then eased herself into the sponge-like chair sculpted into the tank as the water—bath-water-warm—sloshed over her. “I’m good, thanks. I had a rescan the last time I came here.”
The woman shrugged and used her stylus to make a mark on her tablet, then clamped it between her teeth again. “Your gaming experience will last two hours, although it will feel much longer,” she said around the stylus as she began suctioning nodes to Kit’s skin
. “If you are killed while in-game, your character will be reset to the last spawn point or save point you passed. Eternal Chase is not responsible for the actions of other players you meet while submerged in the game.”
Kit frowned. Sky’s End was a single-player/first-person shooter game. I shouldn’t meet anyone while submerged…. Before she had the chance to ask, the woman rolled on without stopping to take a breath.
“If you have not finished the game by the end of your purchased time, your progress in the game (as well as your character) will be saved. The average play time of a virtual game is four to eight hours, or approximately two to five visits,” She thumbed through the screens of her tablet. “Please take the prescribed sleep drops now. It is a quick-acting sedative that will make your transition into the game easier.” She held out a small bottle that was capped with an eye dropper.
“Thanks,” Kit said, reaching out to take the bottle. She unscrewed it and squeezed a drop of the liquid into both her eyes before handing it back.
The woman took the drops, then shut the lid of Kit’s capsule. “Please stand by while I set your adventure.” She affectionately slapped the unit, then swaggered away.
The computer attached to Kit’s capsule was flipped on. Kit listened to the lady type away before slipping off into sleep…and waking up with pink hair.
2
An Enemy Approaches
Kit stalked down a dusty dirt road. Every step she took was marked by the bells hanging from her many anklets, making her anger with Bryce build.
“I hope his cellphone gets infected with a virus,” she announced. “This was a mean-spirited joke—and wasteful! How much of my time is going to be eaten by this? Does he think money grows on trees?”