Load Custom Character

by Tyler R Lee

  "Obviously, we've said as much," NoScope said, looking over to Streak. He looked up and made eye contact with her. She waved him over, and he walked instead of his normal short burst of speed. "But he won't listen."

  "You lazy idiots are finally up," Streak said as he put on a smile.

  "You know us," Lysander said with a grin. "Always napping."

  "How are you?" Peter blurted.

  "Me? Oh, I'm fine. But, I didn't fall hundreds of feet and nearly not make it back."

  "No. You nearly died from a slice to the abdomen from Glitch."

  The smile faded from Streak's face and he looked away. "Yeah, but, like I said, I'm fine."

  "Streak," Gunner started.

  "I said I'm fine, guys." Streak’s tone made it clear he did not want to talk about this.

  Awkward silence followed, and Peter and Lysander took this chance to look around at where they had landed. Lysander recognized the area, having been there with another of his characters. For Peter, this was all new. The sky was cloudless, and the blue reflected perfectly in the Vast Sea behind them. The beach itself sparkled white in the sunlight and looked to stretch for miles in both directions. Beyond the shore were plains that gave way to rolling hills and the occasional mess of trees. Onward eventually led to what looked like thick forests or jungles far in the distance. Behind that, Peter saw the mountain that had guided them to this point but a day or two ago. That great rock stretching into the sky was Mount Apex. However, the mountain wasn't the most interesting sight. That belonged to the massive, ancient looking fortress that towered over the dense wooded area at the foot of the mountain.

  "So, where are we?" Peter asked as he took everything in.

  "The continent of Mestria," Lysander answered in his best college professor imitation. "Specifically, this is the Winding Coast, so named for the way the coast twists and turns as it wraps around the whole western edge of the continent."

  Everyone, even Streak, chuckled at Lysander's over the top impression. "That's Mount Apex, as you probably guessed," Ariel started, not attempting an over-the-top educational tone. "Out there," she motioned to the plains and hill areas, "are what's called the BattleLands."

  "Sounds intense," Peter said as he crossed his arms and looked where Ariel motioned.

  "It is a massive PVP, or player versus player, area. Or, it used to be. I can't imagine players engaging in such for fun ever since death became an actual danger."

  The group looked on and pondered that statement. Finally, Peter asked, "so, we just have to make it over to Mount Apex, find Yoshitsune, and give him a bad case of getting killed?"

  "It seems like it," NoScope answered. "Though, I can't imagine him making it that simple."

  "No," Ariel added, fingers curling into fists. "No, someone who would hire a player to befriend and then betray us just to give us a challenge definitely has more in store for anyone who looks to scale that mountain." A depressing thought upon a still fresh wound, no one could argue with the logic of her statement.

  ***

  Now that the party was sure everyone was going to be okay, they decided to take the night to rest up, both physically and emotionally. As the sun began to sink over the sea behind them, they made camp on the beach. No items were used, no shields or barriers were implemented. They simply made a campfire and sat around it, soaking in the peace and quiet they knew may be their last. Everyone took a seat around the campfire and watched the flames dance, bouncing light off the sand beneath them. Everyone except Streak, who had, like on the ship, taken up position away from the group.

  "We'd like it if you'd come hang out with us," Peter said as he approached the speedster and took a seat across from him.

  "I just needed to be alone with my thoughts." Streak had removed his blue helmet and held it in his lap, and his goggles were down around his neck, giving Peter the first full view he had seen of the speedster's feline face.

  "Ya don't think a cheetah and ripping off the Flash was a bit much when creating your character?"

  Streak smiled, which was what Peter had intended. "First of all, I'm blue. The Flash is red."

  "Got me there. Totally different." Peter raised his hands in mocking surrender.

  "Second. I like cheetahs. Their fast. Just like the Flash. There's a freedom in that speed. A freedom I've always wanted but was never able to get." Streak stared off down the beach, away from the group.

  "Freedom from what?"

  "From everything. From financial troubles, from stress and anxiety. Freedom from my family not speaking to me ever since I came out. From the bullshit looks or comments I get from people on the street when I try and hold my boyfriend's hand or, god forbid, give him a kiss." He hadn't turned back towards Peter, but his voice had grown a bit louder as he spoke. He quieted as he noticed. "If I had that speed, I could just..."

  "Run away?"

  Streak flinched. "It doesn't sound like the most responsible thing, I admit."

  "That doesn't make it wrong. That doesn't mean it isn't a perfectly acceptable thought to have." Now Streak turned to Peter. "I mean, I won't pretend to know what you've been through coming out, but do you think I haven't wanted to 'run away' from the shit in my life? My parents hate me. I'm constantly bullied by assholes just because I'm different. Before I got here, I had no friends other than a few online. Hell, why do you think I came to this god forsaken game in the first place?"

  "I guess we all want to speed away sometimes."

  "It's certainly tempting. Is that why you chose the speedster class?"

  "Pretty much. Just a way I could live vicariously through this character."

  "Same. The martial artist gave me the power to feel like I was actually in control of something. That didn't last long, though."

  "Yeah, you picked a horrible time to start playing." Streak shot a smile at Peter, who returned it with a chuckle.

  "Story of my life, Streak."

  The two shared their laugh, then sat in silence for a few minutes, listening to the group a few yards away. Laughter broke out from them, and both Peter and Streak looked their way. Peter finally asked, "what's been eating at you since the battle on the airship?" Streak looked away and breathed a heavy sigh. "Come on, Streak."

  "It's like I said." Streak started so fast that it took Peter by surprise. "I chose a speedster to have this speed, this freedom. I was fast, meaning I could outrun anything. Turns out, I'm only fast enough to run from things. I'm useless when it comes to running to something."

  "You mean Val."

  "Of course I mean Val."

  "That was not your fault. Glitch--"

  "I know who killed her, Pete. But, I also know that I was right there, and I still wasn't fast enough to save her. Not only that, I needed to be saved." Streak let that statement sink in before adding, "I failed, Peter. I failed Val. I failed the team."

  "That's such crap, and I think you know it." Streak looked up in surprise at Peter’s somewhat harsh tone. "Glitch played us all. She killed Tony and Val. She did it. Not you, not anyone else. And you know what? If you failed, then so did I, because she got away. So did Lysander, NoScope, Ariel, Gunner. We all failed."

  "I wasn't trying to--"

  "I know that's not what you were saying. But, I...we need you to understand that this was not your fault. We need you Streak. Honestly, I don't know how much longer we have left. The path ahead is just going to get more dangerous, and we need each other. That includes you."

  More silence hung in the air. Finally, Peter spoke. "Will you please stop being so damn annoying and come sit with us?"

  Streak looked up and saw Peter's wide grin, hand outstretched to the speedster as he stood over him. The speedster smiled and shook his head, then took Peter's hand. "Fine," he said as Peter pulled him to his feet.

  * * *

  For much of the night, the party spent their time laughing, chiding each other playfully, telling stories about their real lives, their time in the game, and even reliving moments from the journ
ey they were currently on. So, when NoScope broke the frivolity with the statement, "we need some kind of plan," the look of slight surprise on each face was understandable.

  "Sorry," she added, blushing a bit under her gray hood. "I just feel like we need to get something together. Moving forward won't be easy."

  "No, I agree," Lysander said as he nodded to the ninja. "We should get some kind of plan together."

  "Except, we don't really know what to expect." Ariel's comment was both true and a bit unsettling. Though many of the group were familiar with the BattleLands and the rest of the area, the game had changed, making everything unpredictable.

  "Honestly," Gunner stated, a bit of hope in his voice, "maybe getting to Mount Apex will be easier than we think."

  "Because that's been our experience so far?" Streak asked with a raised eyebrow.

  "No. But, it's like you said, surely the BattleLands aren't playing host to PVP combat since the game turned into a virtual Hunger Games. Which means we just need to avoid any story based battles or encounters as much as we can while we make our way to the base of the mountain."

  The group gave nods to Gunner's statement. To them, it sounded logical, if not a bit over simplified. Gunner was about to continue when an unfamiliar voice interrupted him. "Well, someone is pretty far from home."

  The group spun towards the smooth, melodic, yet deep female voice. A figure stepped out of the shadows and into the dancing firelight. Her face was partially in shadow from her green hood. She was adorned in a leather jerkin, bracers from hand to elbow, and knee-high boots, all green to match her pants and cloak, but with purple trim and laces. She had an ornate long bow slung over her shoulder.

  "Wait," Peter said, mouth partially agape. "You’re Artemis."

  "Yeah," Ariel agreed, pointing to the stranger. "Artemis. One of the three finalists in the World Championships."

  "That would be me," the archer said softly as she bowed slightly, a proud grin upon her face.

  "Son of a bitch," Gunner said as the rest of the group looked on with a mix of surprise, admiration, and apprehension.

  "And I'm afraid you're severely lacking in information." Artemis continued. "Especially if you plan on storming Davo's Fortress and scaling Mount Apex."

  "Davo's Fortress?" Peter asked. "What is that?"

  Artemis shot him an apprehensive look. "Are you telling me you don't know what Davo's Fortress is? Everyone knows what that is."

  Peter looked around and the looks on his friends' faces told him she was right. He shrugged. "I don't. Anyone wanna filll me in?"

  "How long have you been playing?" Artemis was still giving Peter that look of astonishment.

  "I started the day everything went to hell." Peter's tone told Artemis he didn't appreciate the look.

  "Hmm." She touched a finger to her lips, thoughtfully. "How have you survived this long?" The last part she said with a smile that Peter thought was a bit too condescending.

  "By killing everything that's tried to kill me."

  "Fair enough," the archer conceded.

  "What info are we lacking?" Ariel asked, bringing the conversation back around to what she felt was most important.

  "I'm a bit more interested in why you are here." NoScope's words surprised the most, but Peter seemed to be on board with her question. "You'll forgive the question. As Peter alluded to, we've had many things try to kill us. More than a few have been players."

  "Sure, sweetie. Why not?" Artemis snapped her fingers and from the darkness stepped four other individuals of varying size and equipment. "It's pretty simple. We're here because someone saw your airship land, and that is quite possibly one of the most unusual things to happen since the game started killing everyone. Care to explain?"

  The group recounted a condensed version of their adventure so far. Artemis, despite the air of superiority she gave, seemed entertained and somewhat impressed by the tale. "Well, you all have been through the ringer. Sadly, if you were hoping for a bit of a respite, I'm afraid you won't find it here."

  "What do you mean?" NoScope questioned.

  "Well, for one thing, your little theory of no player versus player action," she motioned to Gunner, "is way off base."

  "What?" Peter raised an eyebrow.

  "Players are still participating in PVP, even though death is a real thing?" Lysander didn’t even try to hide the intense surprise in his voice, a feeling that was etched on the whole group’s faces.

  "Sure are."

  "What the hell for?" Streak asked.

  "Because that's what they believe has to be done in order to escape the game." Artemis’s answer was matter-of-fact, which only confused the group more.

  "How is that so?" Ariel asked.

  "Because it appears to be the only way into Davo's Fortress, which, as everyone but cutie over here knows,” she motioned to Peter, who blushed with an annoyed frown and turned his head, "is the only way to access Mount Apex."

  The group just looked to one another, incredulity on their faces.

  "How many of you know the history of the BattleLands?" Artemis took a seat on a nearby log and motioned for her companions to stand at ease.

  "It's the premier player versus player area of the game," Lysander answered. "And it's remained the most popular spot throughout the game's lifetime."

  "Good. Yes, you are correct."

  "That doesn't explain why people would still compete once they knew death was legit," Streak said.

  "Do any of you know the history of the BattleLands within the context of Our World's story?"

  No one made to speak, and instead just traded glances. Finally, Ariel spoke. "Sure. One faction, made up of elves, dwarves, and humans do battle against another faction, dark elves, orcs, and hybreeds. Been going on for thousands of years. It is supposed to symbolize the status quo against the outsiders."

  "Exactly," Artemis said as she nodded approval. "Poetic, if not a little on the nose."

  "But, that's just a story for a game," Peter stated. He was starting to grow impatient. "Why does that mean players have to keep killing players?"

  "Getting there, Petey. Now, how many of you have ever been to Davo's Fortress?"

  Again, the group traded glances with each other, but no one spoke up.

  "I'm not surprised. Most people don't even go there anymore since no one has been able to figure out how to get in. However, if you had ever paid a visit, you would know that carved above the massive iron gate that blocks the entrance is a phrase. 'Only one clan may enter the Fortress of Davo.'"

  Understanding washed over the faces of the party, slowly realizing why the fighting had continued. "So, many believe that to mean that only when one faction is defeated can the other enter the fortress, gaining access to Mount Apex and dealing with Yoshitsune."

  "Surely, there has to be some other--" Peter started, but was interrupted by Artemis.

  "Yes. You would think there would be more to it, wouldn't you? But, so far, no one has been able to find an alternative. There is no other way into Davo's Fortress, and no other way to the summit of Mount Apex. So, the fighting continues."

  It was disheartening news, to be sure. If this was true, then the worst of the fighting for the party was just ahead of them. And worse, it would have to be against other players who were willingly trying to kill each other just to get home. Fighting against the game was hard enough, but having to kill other players, who were just trying to find a way out of the game themselves, that was too much.

  "I can't do it," Peter said after a few moments of contemplation. "I won't do it. I will not go into this and kill people who are fighting for the same thing we are: freedom from this prison."

  "Same," Ariel agreed as she took Peter's hand and squeezed it. As she made to let go, Peter squeezed her hand a bit tighter. To his surprise, she squeezed back and held on.

  "I'm with Peter," Streak said as he nodded towards his friend.

  "I think we all are," Gunner said as he looked to everyone, who all no
dded their agreement.

  Artemis studied the party, her eyes narrowed, as if she was looking to something deeper inside them. Then, she stood up quickly and said, "Right, then. I think you lot are after the same thing I am. So, care to lend me a hand?"

  Surprised and suspicious looks crossed all of their faces. "What are you after?" Lysander asked.

  "Just what you said. A way around all the senseless killing. And I may have a way around it. If you are interested, follow me." She didn't wait for anyone to answer. She simply turned around, signaled for her companions to follow, and began walking away.