Side Quest

by Christopher Kerns

  HEALTH: 57%

  HEALTH: 45%

  HEALTH: 32%

  Slipping over bodies and past golden artifacts, Mitch huddled behind a particularly large treasure chest. “I hate this game, I hate this game,” he muttered as he tried his best to stay still, holding his breath as best as he could. He looked up to see another bear’s giant snout appearing across the pit’s edge.

  Mitch ran for it. Now perched at the top of the pile, he could see all four ogre bears poised at the edges looking in, each taking a point on the compass. They opened their mouths and lit their breath in unison, igniting four streams of destruction all around him.

  “You know,” Mitch yelled into the air, “you should really call them fire bears, not ogre bears. Fire bears make a lot more sense.”

  The blast knocked him from his feet. He fell, rolling down to the base of the pit, his health now down to a measly 6%. It was over—he knew it was over. He closed his eyes and braced for the worst, knowing that the next time he opened them, he’d be back at the entrance to the mines, for the hundredth time. Back to the start of a level he was never going to finish.

  That’s when he heard it—an earth-shattering explosion from above, followed by a massive thud that could only have been one of the beasts hitting the floor. And then another. Mitch covered his ears and searched for clues about what the hell was going on, but could only make out the outlines of debris and smoke filling the chamber, a fog falling slowly across the room.

  A third explosion was followed by a deep bellow of pain and stumbling footsteps as one of the ogre bears disappeared with a crash and a whimper. A final blast left behind only a ring in Mitch’s ears. No movement. No roars. No ogre bears left standing.

  After a few moments, Mitch found the courage to raise his head. “Hello?” Mitch called out. “Anybody there?” He slid down to the base of the pit, tracing a path around the wall, searching for any clue as to what had just happened. Within a few steps, he found the first fallen ogre bear, splayed out dead across the edge and onto the pile. He grabbed a firm handhold of fur and climbed up the bloody carcass, arm over arm, finding himself standing on the platform surrounded by nothing but destruction. Just dead ogre bears everywhere, most still smoking from the fire, burning from the inside out.

  The squeal of metal on metal turned his head. He watched as a wooden door leading into the far end of the pit creaked open. A figure appeared through the smoke, and Mitch pulled his pistol from his belt, pointing it towards the door, steadying its shake with both hands.

  As the form approached, Mitch lowered the weapon with a raised eyebrow. The form’s silhouette, its pace, its gait—it was human. But it was more than that. It was familiar.

  A voice broke out through the chamber, cutting through the darkness and the haze.

  “Mitch? Son of a bitch—is that really you?”

  THE SKIRMISH MANUAL:

  A TEAM-BASED APPROACH

  Roles and Responsibilities

  * Demolitions * Bulldozer * Rover * Sniper * Leader *

  DEMOLITIONS

  Responsibilities: The Demolitions role (also referred to as “Air Cover”) is maximized by staying out of sight and laying support for other players in the arena. This support comes in the form of a series of well-targeted and planned explosions to 1) kill, 2) disrupt, and 3) confuse the opposing forces.

  The Demolitions role should be at expert level with grenades, C4, and timing devices. They should also love to blow shit up.

  FOURTEEN

  They’re Called Ogre Bears

  BEING LOST IN AN UNKNOWN, unmapped VR world had already taught Mitch Mantock a few good lessons. First: don’t give ogre bears any kind of fire. Not a torch, not a match. Don’t light their cigarettes, even if they ask super nice. Terrible idea. And, second: in a strange place, it sure was nice to see an old friend.

  “Dude,” Mitch laughed, jumping back down into the pit. “Thank God you’re not one of those fire bear things.”

  “Ogre bears,” Fuse replied, admiring his work. “They’re not called fire bears, they’re called ogre bears.” Fuse was a massive, muscled hulk of a man with dark skin and cropped, jet-black hair. He sported one of the few Karma Systems avatars that Mitch had ever seen with glasses, and Mitch didn’t know if the accessory was a calculated move by Fuse to remind everyone how smart he was, or if his old teammate was just too lazy to change the settings from his real appearance. Still, behind the frames and lenses, a sparkle shone through his eyes—always thinking, always calculating, always up to something. Here, in DeadBlood, Fuse had managed to collect a good amount of local loot—thick leather armor, a few daggers on either side of his belt, and a cloth backpack overstuffed with inventory.

  “It’s funny, really,” Fuse continued, “thinking about it ... bears in traditional mythology have typically represented motherhood or even resurrection, showing an awakening from a long slumber. Meant to teach us patience and confidence. Of course, in the Norwegian fairy tale ‘Valemon,’ the white bear held the golden wreath the princess coveted, and its innocence was only rivaled by that of the Queen herself. But we all know how that turned out.” Fuse did a quick survey of the room. “I’m not getting any of that symbolism here.”

  “I think what the AI was going for was maybe closer to ‘Let’s just kill people with giant bears that shoot fire from their mouths.’”

  “Sure, I get that. But still, a missed opportunity.”

  Seeing Fuse again reminded Mitch of how long it had been. There are certain friends—the best kind of friends—that you won’t see for years. Not a word. Not a chat or a call. And then you get together, and you just pick right up where you left off. For Mitch, that was Fuse.

  “Figured they’d send someone in eventually,” Fuse said. “Never dreamt they’d ask you. No offense, of course; just based on their normal workflow and corporate priorities, I was expecting a rookie upstart to leverage the rescue mission for marketing purposes. You understand.” Looking up to the carnage above them, Fuse took a step back to admire his work. “Did you see the blasts? The timing?”

  “The timing? Sure.”

  “You didn’t see. You were too busy running for your goddamned life. Let me tell you, it was perfect. Well, almost perfect. That third explosion could have been—should have been—a half second earlier.” Fuse pulled the backpack off his shoulder and ruffled through the contents. “These organic fuses, they can’t be trusted. Just wood splints with some primitive form of nitrate, you know? They burn any speed they want. Not ideal in any sense of the word.”

  “Splints? Nitrates? What are you talking about?” Mitch asked, pulling at Fuse’s armor. “And where’d you get all this stuff?”

  “Been playing the game, through six side quests already, finished five of ‘em. Still can’t level up to save my life though. That’s why I came back here to the main mission. To try this one again.”

  “You’ve been just ... playing the game? Are you nuts? Don’t you want to get out of here?”

  “Of course, eventually,” Fuse said, scaling up the ladder to check the damage to the main deck. “But first, it makes sense to gain an optimal understanding of the game’s environment and capabilities. I mean, sure, point me to the closest exit and I’m there. But I figured either I’m supposed to find someone, or someone’s coming to find me. Either way, standing still wouldn’t do me any good. I managed to cover about a quarter of the map, enough to realize that the rest of the team sure as hell ain’t here. But this room here—this is key to unlocking the remainder of the game.” He walked past the edge, his voice echoing through the treasure chamber. “Do you know how hard it is to find stuff that blows up around here?”

  Mitch shook the gold from his boots and followed Fuse up the ladder, rolling onto the deck above. There was dark, black-red blood everywhere, highlighted with pieces of brain and bone. Toes and hunks of flesh. A couple of claws.

  “Won’t be a problem much longer,” Mitch said. “I’m here to get you out.”

&n
bsp; “Powder kegs.”

  “What?”

  Fuse nodded as he kicked away a loose piece of bear. “Powder kegs. That’s what I figured out. I tried modified artillery shells a few times but the explosions weren’t big enough to do any real damage. That’s when I found the loophole—some of the supply stores up on the main drag, they keep powder kegs behind the counter. Guessing the local crackpots use them to fill ammunition for higher-level weapons, stuff I haven’t been able to get my hands on yet. But there’s no game rule to stop someone—stop me—from sneaking in and grabbing a few.”

  “Powder kegs?” Mitch asked.

  “For blowing stuff up.” Fuse balled his hands together and extended his fingers, whispering an exploding “booooosh” noise with his eyes wide. “So what’s the plan? You’re here to rescue me, right? Just heading back to Karma, I assume ... did Mac activate a portal somewhere around here?”

  “No, but I’ve got these,” Mitch tossed a code package over. “You wanted a ticket out of here? You’re holding it in your hand. Takes us to the next world to find whoever’s next on the list. But we need to level up before using it.”

  “Makes sense as a failsafe. Wouldn’t want one of those bears getting back into Skirmish, or even that weird prospector dude. Could get ugly, fast.” Fuse gave the code package a quick look and flicked it back over to Mitch. “So how’s the grand old game treating you these days? Last I heard you were leading tours?”

  “Just doing what I need to do, you know?” Mitch said, kicking a loose gold coin down into the pit. “Trying to get by.”

  “I read the book. The whole team did. Pretty cool.”

  “Oh, right. Sure. I mean, the tactics should be pretty familiar to you guys,” Mitch laughed. “You’ve lived them. How’s the team? Everyone good?”

  Fuse shrugged. “Same as always, I guess, other than this whole mess. Punch is still out of his mind—but now with the fame and everything, it’s at a whole new level. Chu doesn’t talk much, but she’s still the best in the business. And Dozer, well, you know. Dozer is Dozer.”

  “It’ll be good to see them.”

  “The best friends are old friends,” Fuse said. “One thing’s for sure, I’m not going to miss this place. It’s creepy—like, you can’t even walk down a side street without some brand new form of mutant gunslinger trying to knock your head off.”

  “Like that guy in the coffin?”

  “On the main road?” Fuse asked. “He killed me, like, ten times. Fuck that guy.”

  “Damn right,” Mitch nodded. “Fuck that guy.”

  “I don’t know ... just seems like a weird game for people to actually enjoy playing, you know?”

  “It’s a game built by a machine. Machines don’t think like we do, they don’t get nuance. Don’t understand what gives a game life.”

  “I’m not writing the idea off—I think there’s something to the idea of machine-based worlds, but the tech just isn’t there yet. You’re right, it’s nuance. Nuance is where the good shit’s at. What’s the word from Mac on what went wrong?”

  “Guessing you know as much as I do. Mac wrote some code that would create game worlds and things went a little crazy.”

  “I don’t know about crazy.” Fuse spun, admiring the chamber, ogre bear parts and all. “I mean, it built all this. Not bad for a first run, really.”

  “If you say so.”

  “Anyway, let’s get the hell out of Dodge,” Fuse said. “I figure based on rough calculations, we’ve got about thirty-six hours, thirty-six minutes remaining on life support. You, obviously, have more in the tank, but the critical path—the forcing function—revolves around the numbers for the rest of the team. Given how crazy this world is, I’m not feeling optimistic about where everyone else ended up. Better give ourselves as much time as we can.”

  “You’ve seen more of this place than I have,” Mitch said. “What do we do now? What’s it going to take to get to level one?”

  “We kill something,” Fuse nodded and pointing over to the massive platform at the far end of the treasure room, the doors closed tightly shut. “Something big.”

  FIFTEEN

  Business is Lookin’ Good

  “SO MAYBE EXPLAIN THIS PLAN AGAIN?” Mitch yelled up to the platform. “Feels like I’m missing something.”

  Perched high on the upper deck, Fuse responded with a half-whisper, half-yell. “It’s easy. Like I said—I’ve tried this boss battle lots of times, no luck with any strategy so far. Got my ass kicked every time. But now that there’s two of us, we’re in business.”

  “What business are we in, exactly?”

  “The Baroness killing business. And business is lookin’ good.”

  Mitch shifted his weight up over to one tiptoe, trying to catch a glimpse of whatever Fuse was building on the upper platform. He heard the tightening of rope and a few slight taps but wasn’t able to get his line of sight past the edge of the wooden floor high above.

  “So, that sounds great,” Mitch said, “but again—my role here? You just want me to attack from the—”

  “Nope. No attacking. Just sit there. Just like you’re doing.”

  Mitch crossed his arms with a huff, stepping out of the pool of ogre bear blood he realized he’d been standing in. “Just like this?”

  “Perfect,” Fuse said, continuing to tinker away.

  Mitch pulled his pistol from his belt and reloaded, giving it a few practice quick-draws. “I mean, I could take the left side while you take the right. I’m getting pretty good with this thing.”

  “No weapons, no fighting. That’s only going to take you out of position. Just a distraction. That’s all I need.”

  “Distraction? You just want me to stand here like a newb?”

  “Hey, don’t take it like that,” Fuse said with a smile. “I just think we should let the professional take care of this one.”

  “Professional?” Mitch pushed the gun back down into his belt and pointed a finger up at the platform. “I get it now. This is about me leaving. Bad blood and all that, isn’t it?”

  “Did you leave our team?” Fuse put on his best doe-eyed expression. “Didn’t notice.”

  “This is some bullshit,” Mitch nodded. “That’s what this is. Typical know-it-all bullshit. I’ll tell you what, Fuse, I didn’t fight my way through a cowboy graveyard and a pack of wild dogs just to save your ass and be treated like some kind of newb. You think this is easy for me? I’ve been through a lot today, goddamnit.” Mitch raised the back of his boot and pointed, lowering his voice to a desperate tone. “Spurs, Fuse. I’m wearing spurs for you.”

  “Calm down, cowboy,” Fuse yelled down dismissively. “I’m just messing with you. Trust me, okay? Just stick with the plan, and we’ll be out of here before your next tour group.” Fuse stood up, rubbing his hands together to rub off some sort of residue. “This won’t be easy, but I think I know how to take her out.”

  “Her?” Mitch asked.

  “The Baroness. She’s going to walk right out of those giant doors.”

  “I don’t get it,” Mitch said. “What’s the big deal, anyway? She shouldn’t be that gigantic, right? The statue back in the tunnels was just of a normal sized person.”

  “That’s right. But it’s not the crazy woman that’s going to kill us, it’s the thing the crazy woman built.”

  “What’d she build?”

  “You’ll see. Problem is, she comes right at you with this thing. It’s got weapons everywhere, but the front of the machine—that’s where most of the armor is.”

  “The machine?” Mitch said. “There’s a machine?”

  “Last time I figured I’d try sneaking around her side, attacking from the back. But she’s too fast. Once she locks in on her opponent, she stays with you. That’s where you come in.”

  Mitch nodded. “The distraction.”

  “A second target,” Fuse confirmed. “If she sees you first, she’ll chase you till there’s nothing left of you. But hopefully it doesn’
t come to that. Once she locks on, I’ll sneak up from behind with these explosives, custom made for the job. She won’t know what hit her. I’ll be sure to leave the last shot for you so you get the points.”

  “Then I level up, activate the code package, and we leave this world in the dust,” Mitch said, looking the huge doors all the way up. “Well what are we waiting for? What do you say we knock on her door?”

  SIXTEEN

  The Baroness Battle

  MITCH TOSSED a single gold coin in the air, watching it flip, head over tails. It landed back in his palm with a thud, just before he turned on his hip, chucking it sidearm at the main platform. The coin hit the massive double-doors right between the wickets, sending a metallic chime echoing through the chamber, sounding dangerously close to a dinner bell.

  Mitch gulped as he heard the tired groan of the giant doors pulling open, wood scraping across stone as chains rattled across pulleys.

  “Remember,” Fuse whispered from high above. “Make a ruckus when she comes out, we want to make sure she sees you first. Precision is the key here—the timing has to be perfect. Perfect, Mitch. Once she starts at you, I’ll drop in behind and ... ” Fuse made the exploding motion with his fingers again.

  The doors revealed a pitch-black stone hallway cloaked in a fog of smoke. Mitch heard the faint sounds of footsteps, growing louder with each step, mixed with the foreign grinding of grit between gears. He extended a hand down on the pile of gold, trying his best to keep his balance as the shock of each step shook the room, the floor, the walls. The smell of burning oil seeped into the chamber.

  Come on out, little lady. Let’s see what you got.

  The machine emerged from the darkness with a pair of jerky, robotic steps. A small figure sat at the center cockpit, thirty feet above the floor, her hands fixed on two control levers. The contraption was framed in wood, built of structures stacked within structures, bound together with winding rope and metal braces, all forming a humanoid shape, but hollow where the chest and head should be. Its arms stretched out wide, twenty feet to either side, with flames shooting from one wrist and a cloud of white smoke from the other. The feet were a mishmash of metal, wood, and wire, sturdy and wide, each about as big as a midsize sedan.