Exalted Realms Online- Harbinger of Chaos

by Jamie O'Leary

  Table of Contents

  I

  II

  III

  IV

  V

  VI

  VII

  VIII

  IX

  X

  XI

  XII

  XIII

  XIV

  XV

  XVI

  XVII

  XVIII

  XIX

  XX

  XXI

  XXII

  Exalted Realms ONLINE

  Book One: Harbinger of Chaos

  by Jamie O'Leary

  Exalted Realms Online: Book One

  Copyright © 2018 Jamie O'Leary

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission from the author. The characters and events portrayed in this story are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  I

  Darkwind could hear his own heart pounding, even over the pangs of clashing steel and the ear-piercing death throes around him. He raised Helgabrand, his mighty two-handed sword, which was forged in the Dragons’ Depths far to the north. The blade was massive—from pommel to tip, it measured nearly two arm-lengths. Its cold blue surface shined in the sunlight, dripping with the blood of its master’s victims and eager to drink more. As soon as the seasoned and skilled warrior cut down a line of foes, more appeared. He looked up and noticed that he was surrounded.

  By his count, there was probably a couple hundred, give or take a garrison or two. He must’ve really pissed off whoever put that latest bounty on his head, because he’d inspired quite a crowd! It didn’t matter who it was anyway. It wasn’t the first time he’d faced odds like these, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. Such was life in Half-World—the fantasy universe and setting for Exalted Realms Online, the most popular VRMMORPG in history, and Darkwind was one of the most feared and hated players in that world.

  Upon its release back in November 2028, ER Online was hailed as the next revolutionary virtual game, which allowed players to interact on an unprecedented level within its sprawling and unsettlingly real VR fantasy realm, which was lush and verdant, and fully realized with entire cultures, histories, and struggles. NPCs were truly random and unique. The haptic reactions, genuine. This was third-generation VR tech developed by DeusXVR, which experimented with all the great features that had been perfected with ER Online. In the game, players’ actions determined whether they aligned with Order, remained neutral, or followed Chaos. Throughout the game, players would build or lose “reputation points” (RPs) based on their decisions, and various stats were awarded based on a character’s alignment. For those who wanted to experience the darker side of ER Online, they played as Harbingers of Chaos. These players instinctively knew that they would be hated in-game, as they were renowned for death and destruction, but the game warned those who would be evil:

  IF YOU BRING SUFFERING UPON OTHERS IN THE REALM,

  YOU WILL SUFFER ANY AND ALL CONSEQUENCES.

  Players fell head-over-heels for the game engine and swooned over the way they could affect the game’s extensive and intricate storyline, which made them feel not only in control of their own narratives, but like they could change the world as well. It was as enticing as it was popular, but it didn’t come without controversy.

  Players such as Darkwind exploited the game’s prime mechanics, much to the chagrin of the growing ER Online community. When the game’s developers refused to crack down on the mass slayings from the outside (as they had established a position of strict non-interference early on), some in-game vigilantes emerged while other players resorted to touting would-be assassins and sellswords looking to earn a quick bit of gold and glory. They all came running to seek their chance at taking down the legendary Darkwind – from the Highlands of Elstoy and the Zodiac Islands to the Glacial Plains, their minds burning with the promises of huge sums of gold, which was something of a rarity in-game. Players from all across Half-World united in an effort to “banish” the troublesome players from the game, most of all Darkwind.

  For many players, the game was an extension of their lives. It was somewhere they could escape whatever mundane or terrible lives they lived outside of Half-World. Playing Exalted Realms was not just playing a game; it was living a completely different existence in another world. And players were unanimous—as far as VRMMORPGs went, there was this game and then there was everything else.

  From the moment he first logged into Exalted Realms, Darkwind knew that he would become the worst (best) player to ever cause mayhem in Half-World. His player always identified with the chaotic-evil archetype, channeling all their negativity into this brooding avatar—a hulk-of-a-warrior with a thick, black mane and a beard that hid a stoic face with chiseled features and eyes that twinkled unadulterated mayhem.

  He was armored in marauder plate-mail scarred from thousands of skirmishes, yet still glistening in places not caked in mud; his boots were fashioned by the royal cobblers in the great kingdom of Mevalon; his worn leather belt doubled around his waist, and a small purse, potions and other trinkets dangled from his hip; Helgabrand – ‘Helga’ for short – rested across his back, his shoulders bearing the brunt of its weight; and his magic-resistant, tri-horned helm that framed his brow was a prize for surviving the jeweled demon-king Zhaszhu at the Temple of Lodi.

  Some players saw Darkwind as nothing but a murderous troll with no regard for anyone else in the game. He was known for killing indiscriminately to make other players’ lives miserable just for kicks and because he liked “sending noobs to bed”.

  Then there were those that fawned like sycophants over his barbarous antics, usually joining in so as to be in his good graces. Darkwind was generally regarded as a psychopath and was even known to kill players who thought they were his friends if it meant more player-kills (PKs) for his ever-growing tally. Many whispers on the boards suspected he had a sick personal agenda, which he revealed to no one, save his closest confidants. Darkwind was notoriously quiet when it came to himself, but that didn’t mean he didn’t unleash himself on the boards.

  His in-game chat logs read like disjointed poetry peppered with expletives, insults, and mean emojis hurled between him and his detractors on a daily basis. The toxicity was palpable to say the least and Darkwind loved every minute of it. Sure, he enjoyed using his superior skills and badass gear to run around terrorizing the rest of Half-World. He was like a virtual Jesse James, except he wielded a sword that could cleave you in two. He reveled in his notoriety as he hunted down anyone, continuing to rack up unprecedented numbers of PKs all across Half-World, and today was just like any other day for Darkwind.

  The ragtag group of virgin mercenaries surveying Darkwind was the fool-of-a-guild called YourMomSucks, led by the whiny mage and “Shitbird-in-Chief”, Zanzibarber—one of Darkwind’s nemeses who fancied himself a ‘white hat’ gamer, unofficially policing the game world against players like Darkwind. The only thing worse than his goody-two-shoe ways was his terrible gameplay abilities and his weak-ass gear, which wasn’t even a tenth as good as Darkwind’s.

  Zanzibarber knew this, just as he always did, but even after getting killed by the warrior scores of times before, he still didn’t accept his numerous defeats at the hands of Darkwind, who had become his white whale. He wasn’t about to give up now. Since Zanzibarber didn’t know when to stay down, Darkwind was more than happy to oblige the envious and vengeful mage with a healthy dose of death yet again.

  How amusing it is to see their reactions
at the moment of death. Darkwind didn’t have a clue what it felt like to die, because he had yet to taste defeat. Sometimes, he skirted dangerous areas or mingled with deadly folks to straddle the perilous edge, but Darkwind learned that he was already over the edge. Since he began playing, he became alienated and hunted, which was exactly how Darkwind wanted it. It’s good to be wanted, but better to be ‘most wanted’.

  This time, Zanzibarber brought backup with him—he was flanked by his equally weak comrades; the entire flock of them stood cowering in fear as they waited to ambush the infamous Darkwind, who had stopped to rest in the shade of some kepine groves in a clearing about a hundred yards up ahead. They tracked him here to the Lost Havens and chances were that they weren’t here for sightseeing.

  Darkwind couldn’t remember what the latest bounty on his head was, but he was pretty sure these taintbags would remind him. While waiting, they thought about all the fine gear and rares they would get with their share of the bounty—here they finally had their chance to lay claim to the fortune and glory that would come with the head of Darkwind. They just had to take it! Easier said than done. Some of these players had been kissed by Helga more than once, while others had never tasted Darkwind’s steel. These poor bastards won’t know what hit them.

  Zanzibarber crept toward the clearing and motioned for the others to follow him. They readied their swords and spells and anything else they thought could take Darkwind down. Anticipation was so high that one or two of them soiled themselves and hadn’t even noticed, confirming that these jabronis didn’t stand a chance.

  Darkwind smirked, one eye open and always on his encroaching enemies. Helga was leaned against the stump, ready to be deployed in an instant.

  Zanzibarber’s brow furrowed under his turban as he began conjuring the new spell he learned for this very occasion—Devil’s Dust, which caused the target to go insane (the only way to break the spell was for the unfortunate target to kill themselves!) Zanzibarber figured he could get Darkwind to do the deed to himself and he wouldn’t need to break a sweat. He’d practiced this spell for months, and many small creatures suffered as a result.

  A yellow aura swirled in Zanzibarber’s hands. Finally with enough confidence in his new spell, Zanzibarber approached Darkwind, who sat up nonchalantly. Zanzibarber halted and took a defensive position.

  “Darkwind,” Zanzibarber shouted, “Our guild—”

  “Sucks dagoth balls,” interrupted Darkwind.

  “This is the last time you’ll ever make a fool out of me, Darkwind!” Zanzibarber bellowed. It looked as if his eyes might pop right out of his skull as he fumed at his handsome, armor-clad nemesis. Some of the others thought he’d finally lost it.

  He raised his hands to cast his spell, but Darkwind was immediately on top of him with Helga bearing down fast. Zanzibarber was quick for a mage. He leaped to one side, turning to cast his spell as Darkwind lunged at him, but the mage wasn’t quite fast enough. Darkwind adjusted his thrust and slashed in an upward arc, lopping both of Zanzibarber’s hands off at the wrist. It took a moment for it to register before he fell aside screaming and writhing in pain, cursing Darkwind as the bane of his existence.

  “Try again, dickweed,” Darkwind laughed in Zanzibarber’s shocked face before kindly removing the mage’s head.

  “Oh, man! That one’s definitely going on my replay feed,” cackled Krotus to Mr.D, two guild-mates from YourMomSucks that were hanging out on the fringes of the battle when they recorded this victorious Darkwind moment. Krotus managed to turn the “dickweed” quip into a trending headline that garnered thousands of hits in a matter of minutes. He was giddy with excitement over his video’s popularity. He even pondered if he could have a career making Darkwind battle videos.

  Zanzibarber faced ridicule from his guild, and the boards were so lit up with the video that he licked his wounds back in his tower in the distant city of Mevalon, where he originally encountered Darkwind. It took Zanzibarber about an hour in real-time – nearly an entire day on foot in-game, half-a-day on a mount – to trek from Mevalon to the clearing where his slain corpse remained. He needed to collect before it was picked clean by other players, or worse, looted by Darkwind himself (except Darkwind would never waste his time with that shitbird’s terrible gear). He cringed at the thought.

  The remaining guild members either dispersed and left the zone or stayed to test their skills by engaging Darkwind in battle. Those who stood against him were simply contenders for the Who-Can-Stay-Alive-the-Longest Award. While some tried taking him on mano a mano (never a good idea), others rallied strength in numbers. Regardless of their respective strategies, they succumbed to Darkwind in every instance, unable to overcome his sheer strength, experience, and skill.

  Darkwind watched as his in-game notifications continued to pop up with every fresh PK. Forget the incident with the miners in Kobash or the raid on Lake Town, or the Battle at Grimforge. Today’s PK-count would be the motherlode! Darkwind could hardly believe his own carnage as he stood over the wake of destruction he’d left, which rendered the once serene clearing into a battlefield slathered in the blood of the lifeless digital corpses left to rot in the sun.

  Darkwind wiped Helga clean and decided to return to his personal lair, which he kept hidden on an island somewhere to the East. He sometimes overheard rumors in pubs where someone slurred out the supposed location of Darkwind’s lair, and he would laugh to himself. He didn’t want the hordes to know where he was holed up, lest they come-a-knockin’ for all his treasures that, yes, he mostly murdered for and absconded with, but claimed that since they were dead and no longer needed it, this was his treasure rightfully claimed as the spoils of victory. Death and plunder were part of the game, and he was simply playing the game. If these assmonks don’t want to keep dying, they should learn to fight better.

  Darkwind looted the corpses of the YourMomSucks guild and their bozo allies. All he found was a handful of copper, some small gems, a pouch of withered herbs, and the satisfaction of having absolutely reduced Zanzibarber and his lackeys to a pathetic pulp. That bounty will probably double after word of this little razz gets out. Maybe if they realized how much they actually suck, they’d finally back off. They’re becoming a real pain in the dick! In any case, if they didn’t come looking for him the next time, it wouldn’t be long before he’d find them. Darkwind relished every opportunity to push players like Zanzibarber to the brink. This is a game, and games are supposed to be fun. Darkwind was having fun. A lot of fun, actually, even at the expense of the other players’ enjoyment. But he didn’t care. With nothing else left to do here today, Darkwind used a warp gem to return home to his lair.

  Darkwind’s lair was far from humble. His braggadocio and desire for opulence was matched only by his insatiable bloodlust, which had paid off quite handsomely for him so far. The entrance was a long corridor with walls of polished basalt, smooth as dragon scales, with small divots hand-carved at even intervals for mounting torches. The torchlight flickered off the walls, amplifying the light. Hence the need for less torches. Darkwind enjoyed dimly lit halls, as he found it had a calming effect on him.

  The corridor opened into a large hearth filled with bags of meat and bread and fruits and herbs. There was also a large, black, iron cauldron, and a wooden table and benches long enough to seat six adults on each side. They were finely carved pieces of musketwood that were given to Darkwind by the late sea captain, Capt. Arnale Mains, who exchanged the table-and-bench set for his life, and once Darkwind loaded the furniture onto his vessel, he sank the ship. He got 37 PKs with that. There were even casks of unigoat’s milk stored in a cool, dark space that was tucked away in the corner of the room. Fresh water also ran through the lair, fed by a natural spring that was under the lair’s foundation.

  Darkwind was notoriously secretive of this place, since his enemies would almost undoubtedly destroy it since it was: a) awesome; b) his; and c) they sought to wipe out anything-and-everything-Darkwind fr
om the game. That being said, should any of his enemies ever discover his lair, he had a plan. Darkwind, aside from being a professional badass on the field-of-battle, was also Dungeon Master (Level 50)—someone who is skilled in ‘arming’ dungeons in-game and devises intricate traps to populate said dungeons for protection purposes.

  How many enemies had he taken on before? How many could he take on? His lair was protected and only he knew all of its secrets, having built it brick by brick (and with a bit of magic help from an ex-lover). Half-World was a big place, but someone could eventually stumble onto this place. Only invited friends, and perhaps a lover or two, were ever welcome. Aside from his paranoia, he felt relaxed here. It was his sanctuary, and he wasn’t going to let anyone spoil it.

  However, Darkwind toyed with the notion that he could lure his enemies to him, and if he could trap them, he could rack up PKs in the comfort of his own home. Why waste my time and energy hunting for PKs when I can do it from my lair? Darkwind knew plenty that would come running, keen to infiltrate his lair, destroy him, and loot everything they could. Darkwind wasn’t sure if his plan would work, but there was only one way to find out.

  II

  An animated scene, featuring a sultry anime girl exposing herself on a Tokyo train platform, flickered on the large TV shoved between the crates of electronic parts, game consoles and other devices. It stood propped up on a stack of old books on engineering, computer science, game design, psychology, mythology—even the Occult. Their frayed, exposed edges were coated in a thick layer of dust. A shaft of sunlight cast a soft, orange haze over the compact and cluttered space as it shot through the only window in the otherwise drab apartment. The room was permeated with the low hum of electronics. Dirty clothes clung to the floor in mounds. Noodle-cup trash littered the desktop among a collection of vinyl figures. The rhythm of the running shower mixed with muffled sounds of punk rock from behind the bathroom door.