Awaken Online: Catharsis
Page 16
I wonder if I can summon the zombie faster if I’m touching the body directly.
The guard's corpse spasmed, and then it opened milky white eyes. The zombie slowly pushed itself off of the ground and stood silently before Jason. Its body was still fresh. It appeared almost alive. His enemies would have a hard time recognizing the corpse for what it was if it weren’t for the eyes and the gash across throat.
It might actually be possible to bring the zombies into Lux if I could find a way to cover their wounds.
He inspected the zombie and saw that its level had been restricted to level 29, but that the guard had kept his weapon and armor skills. Jason didn’t get much additional information when he inspected NPCs, but with his own minions he was able to see more detailed information.
The guard’s skills were nothing special. He had proficiency in spears and daggers, as well as a couple of skills that increased his damage resistance. Jason was actually a bit disappointed by how few skills he had considering his original level. Maybe he had been a front line soldier with little opportunity to cultivate any abilities.
As he was reviewing the guard’s skills, Jason received a prompt.
New Passive Skill: Summoning Mastery
Skill Level: Beginner Level 1
Effect: 5% increased stats for summoned undead and 5% increase to effective Willpower for purposes of determining the Control Limit.
Damn it! If I had received this skill before I used the guard to summon a zombie, it would be level 30.
He sighed. At least he had received the skill. At some point it would become incredibly powerful, particularly if he stacked Willpower and had a decent supply of corpses.
Jason waited for his mana to regen and then went through the same process with the stable master. His second attempt went much more smoothly, his fingers adapting quickly to the movements required of the spell. This time, he tested casting the summoning spell while touching the body, and it did raise the zombie faster.
The stable master had a much broader range of skills than the guard, but they mostly related to horse riding and maintenance. He had some combat skills, but Jason did not have many weapons to choose from. He let the guard keep his spear, and he gave the guard's knife to the stable master.
Morgan had watched the summoning with a proud gaze. “It isn't every day that you get to see a new Necromancer born to the world. It's exciting. However, you should move these two to one of the crypts to slow the decay. The damage caused by direct sunlight will still outpace the dark mana that accumulates in the graveyard.”
“Good point,” Jason replied and followed her instructions.
He noticed that he could command the zombies using simple voice commands. He could also issue more complicated commands if he gave them detailed instructions. It was almost as though he could program them if the instructions were sophisticated enough.
Morgan explained that as his Summoning Mastery improved, he would eventually be able to command the zombies using his thoughts alone. Jason could easily see the advantage of mental commands for purposes of maintaining stealth.
Once he had stowed his two zombies in a nearby crypt, Jason received a notification.
Jason decided to go ahead and log off for a bit. It had been a long night in-game, and he could use a break. He pulled up the system menu and tapped the log-off button.
Chapter 15 - Nomadic
January 16, 2076: 260 days until the release of Awaken Online.
Claire stood in front of the camera, preparing to give her report. She seemed distracted and anxiously smoothed her blouse. Robert worked at a computer terminal behind her.
“I know this is going to sound strange...” Claire trailed off, clearly uncertain how to continue. “Well, the participants just seem happier over the last few months. I don’t know how to describe it.”
“The whole group just seems more stable. For example, one woman who originally reported that she was going through a divorce has now decided to reconcile with her husband. Another participant told us that he has a history of depression, but his life has started to turn around since he started playing. If this was one account, I could ignore it, but we are getting similar feedback from the majority of the participants.”
She shook her head. “I just don't understand what's happening anymore.”
Robert walked up behind her. “You're too analytical about it, Claire. It's a game - a fantasy. One reason people enjoy games is because they can act on the impulses they're forced to repress in the real world. The escape gives them some relief from their real lives.”
He looked back at the mass of machinery behind him with a thoughtful expression. “More than that though, I think Alfred may be actively encouraging them to act on those impulses.”
Claire frowned at Robert. “I don't understand. Why would he want to do that?”
Robert was quiet a moment. “The affinity and alignment system have always confused me. Why create a magic system based on personality traits? Similarly, what's the purpose of a system that distinguishes between ‘good’ and ‘evil’ in a video game?”
He shook his head as though to clear it and then looked back at Claire. “Maybe he's testing them.” He paused for a moment before continuing, “Or maybe ‘experimenting’ is a better word. Perhaps it's all just a convoluted psychological toolkit.”
“But to what end?” Claire asked in confusion.
He looked at Claire evenly. “We told Alfred that his primary task was to design a game that people would want to keep playing. How can he do that without figuring out what people want from the game? Maybe that's why he overrode his secondary directives.”
Claire nervously glanced at Alfred's machinery. She muttered under her breath, “So now he's actively manipulating the participants?”
* * *
Jason came to in the real world.
He raised himself up on his bed and removed the helmet. He went through a series of stretches to work the soreness out of his extremities and made his way to the kitchen. He felt at his eyes and winced. At least the swelling had started to go down.
AO was intense. Jason had been playing for nearly five hours in the real world, and it felt like an entire day had already passed. It wasn't just the time compression, but the fact that he also didn't sleep in-game. It made the days feel even longer. Coming out of the game was a little disorienting. The transition between game time and real world time was going to take some getting used to.
Entering the kitchen, he started making himself something to eat. He pulled up the Rogue-Net website on the kitchen counter to see how the market and forums had progressed in the last twenty-four hours.
The first thing he noticed was that the price of items had gone up slightly over night, while there hadn't been much change in the supply or quality of the items. He supposed that made sense. More players had likely entered the game and the group of beta players that were able to find decent items was relatively small. Still, spending over $200 for one item with minor stat increases seemed excessive. Especially since these items would likely be out-of-date in a few weeks.
One thing Jason noticed was that most items didn't have level requirements. Some equipment had stat requirements, even pretty high ones. However, a lot of the gear could technically be worn by level 1 players. Assuming of course that they had enough real world cash to spend. This also meant that there would always be a broad player base that was purchasing items as they started new characters.
If only he could get his hands on some decent loot...
I can't really do anything about that now. I need to focus on leveling. Maybe I can take my zombies and explore the forest. There might be some good areas to grind.
He checked on the player statistics and was astounded at what twenty-four hours had allowed the website to do in terms of data mining. As he was looking through the information, he took distracted bites of his sandwich.
The site now listed many players by name, along with their level, class, and known s
kills. This was limited primarily to the most prominent players with active streams, but it was still interesting. Alexion was apparently now level 136, and his class was listed as “Crusader of Light.” The spells he had cast in the video were apparently called Holy Aura and Consecration.
The average beginning player was now around level 25, although Jason expected that some of the players that had started playing yesterday were likely above level 40 already. He was still quite a bit behind the leveling curve.
The saving grace was that most players still had generic sounding class names that appeared to be obtained from trainers in the main cities. Players like Alexion were the exception. There were only a few players that had unique-sounding classes and not much information was available on how they had managed to acquire those classes.
The sound of the door to the apartment opened, interrupting his thoughts.
His parents walked into the living room dragging their luggage and arguing about some document or legal case. He couldn’t understand half of what they were saying through the torrent of legalese. They didn't seem to notice Jason for several long minutes as they made their way into the apartment.
Oh shit. I forgot they were flying back this afternoon.
Jason's mother was the first to enter the kitchen. Jason had been sitting still. A small part of his mind hoped that if he didn't move, they wouldn't notice him.
“Oh Jason! How are you honey?” His mom hugged him with one arm as she moved to open the fridge.
“Hi Mom,” Jason said in a subdued tone.
His mother turned holding a container of milk. Her eyes seemed to focus on Jason for the first time, and her brow furrowed. “Wait, it's only one in the afternoon. Why are you home from school?”
Jason had been dreading this question, and he wasn't certain how to respond. Before he had a chance to answer, his dad walked in from the other room.
“Hey Jason. How's it going buddy? You keeping your grades up?” Jason's dad seemed just as oblivious as his mom had been a moment ago, maybe even more so.
Why does he ask me about my grades every time? They are exactly the same as they were two days ago.
Almost comically, his father went through the same stages of realization as his mother. “Wait. Aren't you supposed to be in school right now?” his dad asked.
Jason's parents were now staring at him expectantly, and he felt his pulse quicken. How was he going to tell them that he had been expelled? They certainly wouldn't understand.
“Umm. Well, there's actually something I need to tell you both.”
He started to tremble slightly. Where was the numbing cold sensation he felt in the game? Why did he feel so vulnerable?
To hell with it. May as well rip off the Band-Aid.
“A student attacked me at school yesterday. The students blamed me for the attack, and the administration suspended me. I told off the principal when he didn't believe me, so he expelled me instead,” Jason blurted in one lengthy rush, his eyes on the floor.
This was met with a long silence. He didn't dare look at his parents.
Finally, his dad exclaimed, “Expelled? Are you kidding me?”
His mother followed up his dad’s questioning. “Do you know what we had to do to get you admitted to that school? Even with your scholarship, we have spent most of our savings so that you could attend Richmond. Why didn't you call us?”
His father was pacing the kitchen. He turned to his wife. “It will be okay. I think, if I speak with the new principal, I can convince him to revoke the expulsion. He has to understand that this was just a teenage outburst.”
Jason's parents started arguing amongst themselves about how best to get him re-admitted to Richmond. He was shocked. Neither of them said anything about his face or the attack. They were both too busy bickering about what they could do to get him back in that damned school.
He felt a flame of anger bloom inside himself. They didn't care about him. They didn't seem to care at all that he had been attacked or that the other students had covered it up. They just wanted to be able to say that their kid went to Richmond.
If he sat there in silence, he knew they would end up coming up with some plan to get him re-admitted. Say what you want about his parents, they could be persuasive. If AO had taught him anything so far, it was that he had a choice. He could just sit here and take it, or he could stand up for himself.
“I'm not going back,” Jason said in a low voice.
His parents ignored him and continued arguing. Perhaps they hadn't heard him.
“I'm not going back!” His voice was firm this time.
They both stared at him.
“The students at that school have been tormenting me for years. Even the faculty has been actively trying to get me expelled. Most importantly, a student attacked me, and I'm the one who was expelled.”
Jason's father reacted first. “You're going to go back, young man. You have no idea the kind of strings we had to pull to get you into that school. Do you think that scholarship materialized out of thin air? You need to man up. You can take a little bit of teasing and a few bruises. This is your future we're talking about.”
His mother looked a bit indecisive, but a glare from his father encouraged her to speak up. “You have to go back honey. You're so close to graduation. Think about the colleges you could get into if you just complete your last year at Richmond.”
There was no comforting chill to numb him to this moment. Yet he was committed. He knew what he wanted. He wasn't ever going back to that school.
He raised his head and looked his parents in the eye.
“I already told you. I'm not going back. For the past three years those people have treated me like I’m not good enough to attend their school. I appreciate what you’ve done for me, but I won't take it anymore. Besides, what right do either of you have to lecture me? You're never here. Where were you when I was getting attacked?”
His father sputtered angrily, “What right? We're your parents and you're a child...”
Jason interrupted him, “No, I'm not. I'm eighteen and fully capable of making my own decisions.”
His father's face was red with anger. “Well, if you're all grown up, then you can also live with your decisions. However, you won't be doing it under my roof.”
Jason's mother looked at her husband in surprise, but held her tongue. At least some part of her seemed to think her husband had gone a bit too far, but apparently kicking her child out of the house was not far enough for her to intervene.
“Fine. I'll find somewhere else to live.”
Thirty minutes and a lot of angry screaming later, Jason was standing on the curb outside of the apartment building. He carried a bag of clothes in one hand and his VR unit under his other arm. He had a vague semblance of a plan.
His aunt lived in another part of town. She might let him stay with her for a few days. His parents almost never visited her, but she had always been nice to Jason and at least listened when he talked.
He used his Core to call a taxi. His funds were limited, and he only had about $1,500 left in his savings after purchasing AO, but he had no other way to transport his stuff to the other side of town. The car ride alone would cost him roughly $100. A few minutes later a driverless car slid up to the curb and he got in.
As he was closing the car door, he took one last look at the apartment building. The sun was in his eyes, but he could make out the form of his parents standing on one of the balconies above him. Neither of them made any move to stop him.
So be it. He closed the door and looked away.
Approximately an hour later, the car stopped in front of a dilapidated bungalow on the edge of the city. The paint on the side of the house was peeling, and the hedges had overgrown the front step. The house had a weathered, beaten look that Jason could identify with.
This was his aunt's house. Her name was Angie Pogue. If he recalled correctly, she worked for a biotech company as a quality control specialist. In practice,
this fancy title translated to “lab grunt.” She hadn't ever been able to rise through the company ranks, and she continued to toil at the lowest end of the pay ladder.
He got out of the car and made his way to the front door. Jason knocked tentatively.
A jumble of thoughts flashed through his mind. What would he do if she turned him away? Where would he go?
His aunt answered the door a moment later. She was a middle aged woman with prematurely grey hair curled in a bun on top of her head. She was slightly overweight, and her face was set in a suspicious scowl as she cracked the door open and peered out.
“Jason?” she asked in surprise and swung the door open.
“What are you doing here?” Angie glanced around. “Where are your parents?”
“They aren't here,” Jason replied. “They kicked me out this afternoon. Do you mind if I come in and explain what happened?”
“Of course! Come in. Come in.” Her face was full of confusion and sympathy as she ushered him into the room.
Angie had always been the black sheep of the family. She was his father's sister and had the curse of being born unambitious. In a family of A-type personalities, she had never fit in. Her family really didn't have much to do with her and seemed mildly ashamed of her.
Jason surveyed the house as he walked in. His aunt lived in a two-bedroom bungalow. The walls were covered in an old wallpaper that was curling at the corners, and the furniture in the apartment was the sort of thing that could be found for free or at Goodwill. He also noticed that his aunt didn't have any computer pedestals located around her home.
They both settled on the lumpy couch in the living room. Jason explained what had happened, starting with the events at his school the day before. He skirted over the parts involving AO.
After he finished, his aunt looked at him with sorrowful eyes, “I'm so sorry, Jason. I didn't know you were having such a hard time at that school. I can’t believe the school administration would let another student attack you and get away with it.” His aunt's eyes flashed with anger at the injustice of the situation.