“So, shooters are those games where you basically…shoot at things, I guess. It’s a little more complicated because it depends on the game whether it’s just shooting—lots of times there are different roles. Some people are responsible for planting explosives or driving a tank or whatever. Sometimes the games are realistic war simulators, and sometimes it’s like space marines versus weird aliens. Anyway ‘shooters’ is kinda short for first-person shooters, but most people just call them FPS games when typing. Of course, since advanced VR took over, everything is in first person since you’re shoved into the game with full sensory immersion. The experience just isn’t the same if you’re not inside your character.”
“Got it,” he said, then grimaced. “I don’t think I’d be a big fan of VR shooters. Getting shot to bits isn’t on my bucket list or anything.”
Devon found herself smiling. “Says the guy who probably holds the Relic Online record for the highest number of deaths before level 10.”
“That’s different,” he said with a timid laugh.
“Yeah, I know. Anyway, gibbed is basically a term for getting killed, but it comes from the gory explosion where people get reduced to chunks of meat. It’s technically short for giblets. That’s why there’s the whole gibbed or jibbed thing. Giblets with a ‘g,’ pronounced like it’s got a ‘j.’ Anyway, you don’t need a gamer grammar lesson from me.”
He smirked. “I’m always glad to learn something new.”
Devon pulled her plate back over and cut off a bite with the edge of her fork. As she started chewing, Emerson’s eyes went distant. He was probably checking something on his implants.
“I get what you mean about the difference between Relic Online and normal games,” he said. “Wiping the game state would be like…” He shrugged. “You know.”
“Like mass murder. At least, that’s what I think since the NPCs have their own thoughts and desires and stuff.”
Emerson nodded. “Sentience. It sounds kind of arrogant to say it, seeing as I’m sorta responsible for configuring and training Veia to create the content. But I can’t help feeling like it’s true.”
“I wish more people got it.”
“Maybe they do.”
Devon shrugged. “Maybe. I guess I haven’t been paying attention to the buzz. But there’s so much AI all around us, and it all seems smart, but we’re pretty much conditioned to think of it as machinery. Like the autocab driver or whatever. You have to befriend the NPCs in-game to really see how they’re different.”
“You know what I think…I think there are other players out there that think like we do about the NPCs. But it’s kind of like, if the story hit the media, there would be a big political mess from people who are scared of AI taking over the world. That or Bradley would find some other way to try to monetize things in a way that would ruin the NPCs’ lives. So those players probably keep quiet with their opinions.”
His comment about Bradley reminded Devon of Hailey’s concern that E-Squared would try to use her situation for profit, which brought the whole thing with Hailey back to the front of her mind. Which made her feel suddenly awkward talking to Emerson because she knew that it was going to be a major problem to try to hide her friend’s status from his avatar.
Especially considering that Emerson had recently asked Devon for help tracking down the issue with the failed salary payment into Hailey’s account. The truth was, if Hailey really wanted to keep her condition hidden, she and Emerson couldn’t be playing in the same area. And if Devon didn’t want to screw up and give away her friend’s secret, she would have to cut off contact with one of them. Even if she agreed to keep lying for Hailey, she just didn’t trust herself to keep the guilt off her face.
The waffle felt dry as it slid down her throat. Devon took a deep drink of water.
“Guess it’s about time for you to get back,” Emerson said. “I really didn’t mean to distract you. I know how important it is for you to be online and doing what you can to fight off the demons.”
Devon sighed and nodded, relieved that he’d been the one to raise the topic again. She didn’t want to have to kick him out, but the reminder of Hailey’s situation along with her worry for Stonehaven had sent her nerves into overdrive.
She grabbed the chocolate bar and peeled away one end of the wrapper. Breaking off a square, she offered the bar out to him. Emerson shook his head. “It’s a gift.”
As they stood from the table, his nervousness seemed to return full force. All of a sudden, his fingers started rubbing against the base of his palms, and then he ran a hand through his hair again.
Yeah…goodbye time. How was this supposed to work?
“So how long are you in town?” she asked.
“Actually, I took a little time off work. Feeling kinda disillusioned, you know? So I was thinking that if you’re up for…I dunno…grabbing lunch or dinner or maybe figuring out a place where we could log in at the same time…I thought it might be nice to hang out a little.”
Devon’s pulse sped up, and she wasn’t sure whether it was excitement or terror. She swallowed while trying to piece together a response, then took a couple of steps toward the door.
“I—yeah, that would be nice. Can I drop a line when I get my character back from the swamp? I have a feeling it will be kind of a marathon session until then.”
Emerson exhaled in obvious relief. “I’d like that.”
At the open doorway, they stood awkwardly in the afternoon sunlight. After a couple of seconds, Devon opened her arms for a hug. Emerson stumbled a bit when he tried to step forward, and he pretty much collided with her, jamming her back into the corner of the door jamb.
“Sorry,” he said, quickly jumping back. “You okay?”
“I’m fine. No problem,” Devon said even though the knobs of her spine hurt from being scraped. To spare him further embarrassment, she stepped forward this time and quickly wrapped her arms around his upper back. As he returned the hug, his Adam’s apple bobbed against her forehead. Not sure how long was appropriate to maintain the embrace, Devon held on in hopes he would give her a cue. As time stretched on and neither of them moved, she gave a quick squeeze, which he returned. Still, he didn’t let go.
A door down the terrace opened, and the guy she always ran into in the laundry area stepped out with a backpack in hand. He had a bandanna tied around his head. Heading out for a hike? Either way, she let go of Emerson and stepped back, glad someone had come along to rescue them.
“Talk soon?” Emerson said, his cheeks a bit flushed as he stepped away.
Devon nodded. “I’ll message you. And thanks again for thinking of me.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
“WELL SHIT,” SOME guy behind Ashley said as the first ranks of the marching army reached yet another sheer drop where the Skargill Mountains fell away into a chasm that might as well have been bottomless. The speaker had kind of an annoying voice—nasal and somehow conniving. She could forgive or ignore the way people sounded in real life, but this guy must have gone through the same character creation system as everyone else, which meant he’d chosen something obnoxious on purpose.
Par for the course when grouping up with the kind of people who wanted to be in Nil’s guild. Or rather, the kind of people that wanted to stay in Nil’s guild. Even the name was dumb. Blood-soaked Blades, BBs to people who were too embarrassed to say the name aloud. If anyone who knew her from other games heard about the outfit she’d joined up with for Relic Online, they’d probably laugh their asses off. Her explanation that it had been the only PvP guild with any power early on wouldn’t matter. Of course, it was still the only guild with power because of the whole momentum thing. Anyone who wasn’t an actual asshole but who still liked to PvP was stuck joining the BBs if they wanted a chance at taking down worthy objectives.
Anyway, the situation wasn’t permanent. She’d approached a couple more players lately, people she’d been grouped with who’d kinda made
it known that they didn’t agree with Nil’s plan to go after the Stonehaven people again. Especially not the way Nil wanted to do it, where they’d start by taking out the NPC defenders and whatever fortifications were present, and they’d end by killing the players slowly and repeatedly. Nil was seriously obsessed with this vendetta thing, and it kinda turned Ashley’s stomach. Seemed she wasn’t the only one, and these other two players, a level twenty-seven Conjurer and a level twenty-five Knight had pretty much agreed to split off when Ashley founded a new guild.
But it was slow going recruiting people only when she’d grouped with them long enough to get a feel for their opinions on Nil. Not just a feel for them, actually. She needed to know their discomfort with the guild leader was strong enough that they wouldn’t decide to tattle on her.
Ashley had no illusions about what it would be like when she betrayed Nil. In game, there would be wars between Nil’s people and her new guild. Out of game, the harassment tactics that the BBs had been using on that livestreamer, Hailey, would be turned on her instead. Ashley needed powerful allies, characters with the levels and gear and play skill to stand against Nil. And she needed guild members who knew how to deal with doxers and hackers, ideally on defense only, but on offense if things got bad.
So, for now, she had to keep her head down and do her best to make sure she stood out as an indispensable part of Nil’s army. The promotion to lieutenant would get her the authority to start organizing groups where her small core of allies could start watching for like-minded players. She’d have a chance to interact with other leader-type players, people with the gear and skill she needed to build out her fighting force.
All of which meant going along with this attack on the allies and followers of that player, Devon.
“Are you complaining?” Nil said with a snarl, his elven features twisted as he looked at the nasally voiced player who’d cursed upon seeing the drop. “Because it sounds to me like you’re complaining.”
Ashley closed her eyes, hoping that the other dude would just let it go. Apologize if it came to it. If Nil threw him over the cliff, chances were fifty-fifty that the guild leader would then decide that they needed to camp and wait for the guy to respawn and run back to the group. At which point Nil might throw him off again. It was stupid and a waste of time, but Nil preferred to rule with cruelty and fear than intelligence. Probably because he didn’t have enough of the latter.
“Just wishing we were there already. That bitch Devon and her friends need to die,” said Nasal-Voice.
Ashley cast a glance over her shoulder, careful to keep her disgust for the guy’s attitude off her face. Calling female gamers bitches, especially after losing to them, was the classic mark of Nil’s kind of person. It was also a sure giveaway of someone with insecurity issues and not a lot of friends. The nasal voice came from a toon decked out in caster gear—that was a surprise, actually. She’d expected a melee class. People with his kind of attitude usually preferred to be close enough to smell someone’s fear as they killed them. She checked his class. Another Conjurer. That was even weirder since that class required a ton of play skill. Getting max combat effectiveness required excellent situational awareness and deep knowledge of how to combo various conjurations depending on the enemy’s strengths.
“Yeah, with you there,” Nil said, apparently pleased by the answer. “These detours suck balls.”
Ashley hadn’t realized she was still staring at the Conjurer until Nil turned away and the other character’s true feelings showed on his face. The guy actually curled his lip in disgust at the guild leader, but when he realized that Ashley was watching, his eyes widened in fear. Ashley had a moment of panic as well when she realized that the guy had known exactly the right thing to say to Nil. So he was smart. If he thought she might rat him out, he might preemptively try to undermine her.
She fixed his face and character name—Fiall—in her mind, hoping to talk to him in private ASAP. It would have to be in-game and out of earshot of other guild members—knowledge of out-of-game contact information was limited by the guild hierarchy. Lieutenants could contact peons, Nil’s inner circle could contact lieutenants and peons, and Nil could contact anyone. All designed to prevent the kind of coup Ashley hoped to pull off, of course.
Anyway, since it looked like they’d be marching for quite a ways to find a point where the chasm was narrow enough for the Mages to portal people across, Ashley guessed she might be able to get Fiall alone. She hoped.
For now, she shrugged as if to say that his reaction to Nil didn’t bother her. Fiall examined her for a moment, then turned aside.
“Nil,” someone else called from the rear ranks of the march. Having swollen to over three hundred people, the army was bigger than any guild she’d been in. It often took a good ten minutes for the people in the back to arrive at a stopping point.
“What?”
“Got more news from the inside. Info on the current defenses and weak points.”
“From Jeremy or someone else?”
“Still just Jeremy. He said he hasn’t had any luck finding others ready to turn coat. But he said that Devon recently entrusted him with some more responsibility, so it will be even easier for him to open up vulnerabilities.”
Nil’s face looked even more angular when he grinned. “Nice. I can almost taste the victory already.”
Ashley closed her eyes. Just one more conquest with these people and she could go her own way.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“ALMOST MAKES ME wish we were getting ambushed by demons,” Magda muttered as she stepped forward to take up the lead. Swamp water sloshed around her knees, and strands of trailing algae dotted with clumps of scum and rafts of dead insects wrapped her leather pants. From up on her Levitation cushion, Devon looked down with sympathy, but she knew better than to say anything. Speaking would just draw attention to how comfortably she floated above the muck.
“Me too,” Torald said. “I keep thinking tadpoles are swimming in my boots. I’m worried I’m going to take them off at the end of this and find tadpole jelly under my feet.”
“Ew,” Hailey said.
“I know, right?”
“I swear you people are the whiniest group I’ve ever traveled with,” Greel muttered. “Marching in your perfect starborn bodies, formed from the aether as adults with no past injuries to pain you in the night, no twists in your spine earned by a brutal goblin attack when you were just a child…”
Devon grimaced at the man’s words. Greel rarely talked about his past. The fact that he was bringing it up now meant he was probably in enormous discomfort. Shoving her hand into her Sparklebomb Backpack of Subpar Holding, she summoned her inventory screen and started scrolling through the contents. She stared at the Jungle Energy Potion - Major until a tooltip appeared explaining that the potion would reduce Fatigue and discomfort. Unfortunately, the variety of potions Hezbek had concocted from jungle ingredients tasted awful—like, dead-rat-barf awful—and so far, Hezbek hadn’t discovered a savanna version. Still, next time they stopped, she’d discreetly offer it to Greel. Maybe the pain relief would be worth the disgusting taste.
“Is there anything I can carry for you, Greel?” Torald asked. “My manpurse has plenty of space, and I don’t feel the weight.”
Out of the paladin’s line of sight, Devon shook her head as she prepared for the lawyer’s outburst. There was a reason she planned to offer the potion discreetly. But to her abundant shock, Greel didn’t bite Torald’s head off. Metaphorically or by chewing through the paladin’s scalp and thick skull with a hundred slices of his razor-sharp fighting knives. Instead, he just shook his head, adjusted his pack, and kept sloshing forward.
“We all have our burdens,” the lawyer said. “Some of us just manage to bear them with a modicum of stoicism.”
“A what?” Magda asked.
As if on cue, Bob swirled out from behind a decaying log. “He means—”
“Shu
t up, Bob,” Hailey and Devon said at once.
“Well, fine. I guess I’ll go where my vocabulary is appreciated.” The wisp gave Hailey’s nose a sullen boop before it faded off into the mist. This time, Devon felt no jealousy. She wasn’t on the quest to become Champion of Ishildar anymore, so she didn’t need a guide. But if there was a chance that the wisp could help Hailey navigate her situation, Devon was more than happy for Bob to try.
Hailey smirked as the last glow from the wisp melted into the swamp mist. “Anyway, we may get lucky and get ambushed by demons while trudging through the swamp. Ever think about that?”
“Shut. Up,” Magda said, turning a fake glare on Hailey. Everyone laughed, but the tension in the air was unmistakable. Devon peered into the surroundings, wishing for clear sight lines, but the curtains of moss and tendrils of mist closed in on the view, hiding everything more than fifty to one hundred feet away. She shivered and pulled up her mini-map.
The Grukluk Swamp was about as wide as it was deep, stretching from the Noble Coast northward to where it butted up against the savanna. The Argenthal Mountains bounded the swamp on its eastern border, the range gentling from its jagged northern spires to rounded humps that struck out into the Noble Sea as a chain of islands that resembled a giant sea serpent’s spine. West of the swamp, a massive bay carved a chunk from the continent. The coastline there was a morass of mangroves that Hazel had noted as largely impassable during an earlier scouting trip. At the head of the bay, three rivers flowed into the sea, though only the easternmost watercourse was fully mapped, starting with tributaries in the savanna, passing the site of the Drowned Burrow, and joining into a mid-sized river that once again divided into a branching network of streams at its delta near the bay.
Of course, looking at the layout of the landscape as a whole was a nice distraction from the buzzing, biting insects and the worry of demon ambush, but what Devon really needed to inspect was the notations Hazel had made regarding the current situation in the area.
Throne of the Ancients: A LitRPG Adventure (Stonehaven League Book 6) Page 15