by Phil Tucker
The squire yelled in fury as he fell face down, armor ringing out on the stone. Barfo ran forward, snatched up the bastard sword that had fallen from the squire’s hand, then ran off with it down the stairs.
“Enough!” I shouted, moving forward but wary of coming too close. “Listen to me! We’re part of Cruel Winter!”
The squire yanked his foot free of his boot and then hesitated. He looked from me to Lotharia. Turned to stare out the arrow slit windows, then around the room at the fallen body parts. “What— what is going on?”
“Oh, thank god,” said Lotharia, sinking down into a crouch, head in her hands.
“You were frozen in a time-stop bomb,” I said. “Years have gone by. The castle and Feldgrau are abandoned. We three are the last members of our guild.”
“We lost?” The squire stared at me with wide eyes, and suddenly he seemed quite young.
Exhaustion hit me like a hammer to the back of the head. Nausea rose up in my throat as my legs gave way, and I sat heavily. It took all my strength not to lie down.
“Yes,” said Lotharia. “We lost.”
“But— but—” With effort, the youth stood and moved toward one of the windows. He peered outside, craning from side to side to try and see as much of the land as possible. “They’re gone,” he whispered. “All gone.”
“I’m Chris, by the way.” I gave up and lay down. Twenty or so more seconds to go. “Though I should probably come up with a fantasy name soon.”
“I’m Lotharia Glimmervale, enchantress and Acolyte of Frost.”
“Falkon Alastoroi,” he said, voice distant. He turned, set his back against the wall, and then slid down to sitting. “Frost Squire.”
My gorge rose up in my throat again and I turned onto my side. The dire bat head soup wanted out.
“How many years have passed?” he asked.
“We don’t know.” Lotharia sounded dejected. “But they’re all gone. Ragnar Wyvernsbane, Jeramy, Cassandra Flameheart, Lokoko, the Emerald Twins – all gone.”
“Impossible,” said Falkon. “They were all here. Just— just seconds ago.”
“Gah.” I spat what tasted like bile onto the floor and then forced myself to sit up. My arms were throbbing painfully. “You hit really hard.”
“I’m glad I didn’t really hurt you. The vigor one feels in combat is both the best and the worst, isn’t it?”
“No kidding. That what got you all pumped up there?”
He nodded. “I can feel the excitement about to pass. Won’t be able to talk much for a while.”
“You’ve still got it running?” I was amazed. “What level you at?”
“Level?” He frowned, but then his eyes glazed over, his face turned waxen, and he keeled over slowly in the goblin spirits’ grip with a groan.
“I hate Adrenaline Surge,” I said. “Right up till I need it, then it’s the best.”
“Human a friend now?” asked Kreekit.
“I think so,” I said.
“Then goblin spirits begone.” She waved her hand, and the smoky apparitions around Falkon faded away.
We sat in silence while Falkon shivered and shook, and after a couple of minutes he sat up again, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. “Sorry about that.”
“Trust me, I understand.”
He examined Lotharia and me with narrowed eyes. “So how come you two are here if everyone else is gone?”
So we told him. Lotharia went first, explaining how her surprise return had proven to be a disaster, and I gave him a superficial version of Brianna’s duplicity.
“I’m not sure I understand all that,” he said. “But it looks like we’re all that’s left.”
“Yep. And, ah, I know this is a weird question, but, uh… are you, like, the real you? Or are you being run by Albertus?”
Lotharia glared at me. “Chris!”
“What?” I raised my eyebrows at her. “That’s not a fair thing to ask?”
Falkon watched us in confusion. “I don’t understand the question.”
“Which is all the answer you need, Chris. Drop it.”
“Fair enough.” I had to admit I was disappointed. It would have been nice to have another player with us, but given how long Falkon had been frozen? That’d been really, really unlikely.
“So what’s the plan?” asked Falkon. “Are you two working toward some goal?”
“Survival,” I said. “It’s pretty nasty out there.”
“Ogres, wyverns, skeletal champions, wraiths – we’re out of our league here.” Lotharia blew a lock of hair out of her face. “We’ve been taking it moment by moment.”
The goblins were seated together in a row, chins on their knees, listening avidly. “Kreekit the chieftain of the Green Liver goblins,” she said. “This here Barfo and Dribbler.”
“Ha,” said Falkon. “I remember you guys. We used to… never mind.” He blushed. “Sorry. Any chance I could get my sword back? It’s mana enhanced. I’d rather not lose it.”
“We lost it,” said Dribbler innocently. “No way to get it back.”
Barfo gave a shrug. “Gone forever and ever. Sorry.”
Falkon gave them a deadpan look. “Really?”
“I….ah… maybe we can look again.” Dribbler jumped up. “And earn reward for finding it!”
“Reward!” said Barfo, and they both ran off down the stairs.
“We’re working on clearing the castle,” I said. “We’ve got an ogre problem in the bailey, a wyvern nesting atop one of the towers, a second tower we’ve yet to explore and a boarded-up keep apparently filled with evil monsters that leads down to all kinds of dungeons.”
“Ambitious,” said Falkon.
“Don’t forget your pet rat swarm,” said Lotharia.
“Right. I’m using it to level up. I’m only level three.”
Falkon’s brow contracted in confusion. “Level three?”
Lotharia sighed. “It means he’s considerably weaker than we are.”
“Will you help us?” I asked. “Clear the castle?”
“Need you ask?” Falkon gave a bitter laugh. “I’m a Frost Squire, and you tell me Castle Winter has been overrun with monsters. Of course I’ll help. It would be my greatest honor. What is our first objective?”
Before I could answer, Falkon went rigid. His eyes glazed over, his mouth went slack, and then he simply froze.
“Uh…” I looked to Lotharia. “What just happened?”
“I don’t know. Falkon?” She moved over to him and tried to shake his shoulder, but he was immobile. “Falkon?”
“A glitch in Euphoria?” I asked.
“Never seen one before,” she answered.
Suddenly Falkon relaxed, blinked a few times, and then looked at us with avid curiosity. “Hey.” His voice sounded the same, but was sharper now, more alert. “Who are you guys? What happened? I thought I died.”
I shared a confused glance with Lotharia. “We… just covered all that?”
“Oh, well, not with me. I got a notification like ten seconds ago that my avatar was freed up while I was doing some playtesting in a beta zone. Did you guys get me out of the time quake?”
“Oh!” Lotharia sat back on her heels. “You’re Falkon’s player!”
“Yeah, name’s Lisa.” Falkon gave us both a wide smile. “Falkon was my favorite avatar till I lost him. What did you guys do?”
“I cast Imbue on a beam of wood, which Chris here used to crush the time quake generator.”
“Well done!” Lisa climbed to her feet and looked down at herself. “Urgh. I feel the aftereffects of Adrenaline Surge. Did I spaz out and attack you guys?”
This was kind of weird. Like talking to the ghost of someone you knew before they died. “Yeah. But it was kind of understandable.”
�
��Well, doesn’t look like I killed anyone. That’s a relief.” She smiled again. Amazing. Lisa’s smile was completely different from the AI Falkon’s grin. “So, I’m Lisa. I work for Euphoria. Are you guys Cruel Winter? Looks like it. Can you catch me up on what happened?”
So we did. For a second time. We went into more detail this time through. Maybe because Lisa – Falkon – was such a good listener. She was really empathetic, nodding and making understanding expressions as we caught her up to speed.
When we finished, she leaned back against the wall. “So we’re basically screwed.”
“Yeah,” I said. “That’s a good summary. You work for Euphoria, though. You didn’t know?”
“Nah. The Universal Doctor’s really good at keeping folks who are out of character from learning what’s happening in-game if it doesn’t affect their active avatars. I thought Falkon was lost for good. I’ve been meaning to bring one of my other avatars here to see what happened, but it’s so far away from anything that I never got round to it.”
“So what did happen?” I asked. “What’s the last thing you remember?”
“It’s a lot like you said. A huge undead army showed up without warning. They must have killed our patrols, though those were all NPCs ‘cause who really wants to spend time riding around in circles when you could be living it up in Castle Winter? In retrospect, it makes me wonder if a player was directing it, but I don’t see Albertus giving anybody that kind of power. I don’t know.”
She – I mean, he – made a face and gazed off at nothing. “Anyways, they attacked from three directions. Rolled through Feldgrau, speared straight up to the barbican, and had some fliers to strafe us from above. The scene was pretty nuts. I’ve not seen a fight like it since. We had some real heavy hitters – Jeramy alone could handle almost any threat – but I don’t remember him taking part in the fight. I was told to hold the tower while Ragnar and Cassandra and the others planned out our defenses in the keep. I remember Ulfsted on the wall, exchanging crazy spells with the Dread Lord, as you called him.” Falkon rubbed the side of his face, reliving the battle. “Everetos was also missing. Huh. So, yeah. I was part of the contingent holding this tower. I was squired to Sir Kay—”
“I remember Kay!” said Lotharia. “He was the best!” She smiled at us both. “This one time— well, anyway. Never mind. But yeah.”
I watched her process her emotions, smiling then shaking her head as her eyes teared up. She finally smiled again and nodded to Falkon. “Go on.”
“Well, we were hit hard. This green glowing ramp let the enemy charge up over the ravine right at our tower top, and we lost a ton of people trying to push them back. We were driven down through the tower. I lost sight of Sir Kay, and then it was just me and a bunch of regular guards here when a wraith magus threw that time quake at us. And that was it.”
He snapped his fingers. “I hung around for a few hours, waiting to see if it was a short duration spell, but after a while I got really bored of seeing nothing but gray static outside the spell perimeter. So I logged out, waited a day, logged back in. Nothing. For a while there I would log in every week, but it was always the same deal. I think the last time I checked was maybe three or so months ago.”
Lotharia gave him a sympathetic nod. “I know how that feels. When I was pulled away from Euphoria by real life it nearly drove me crazy, but after a month or so I kind of got over it. It all began to feel like a dream. You going to stick around and help us, or go back to your other avatar?”
“Well.” Falkon looked down at his hands. “I’m technically supposed to be working right now. This is the equivalent of my taking a bathroom break.”
I couldn’t help but frown. I much preferred Lisa-Falkon to the stuffy AI version of himself. “We gotcha.”
“But.” Falkon frowned as he thought it over. “I could maybe put in a request for some personal leave. It’s not like I haven’t racked up the hours.”
“You sure?” I asked. “I mean, it would really mean the world to us.” I’m playing in Death March mode, I almost added, but that would’ve been unfair on Lisa. It would have pressured her to help, and that very pressure might have made her resent my situation, even change her mind and say no.
“Yeah, sure.” He pulled up her character sheet. “Aw, Falkon was only level nine. So cute! Look at those baby stats.” His punched up another window. “And my code of honor.” He scrolled through it, a sad smile on his face. “I remember taking ages to write this all up. Kay was a big help. And my squiring ceremony was so awesome.” He dismissed all her windows. “Yeah, I think it would be cool to come back. Plus it sounds like one hell of a challenge. Clear the castle? With all of us being only level eight or nine?”
“I’m level three,” I said, trying not to be apologetic.
His eyebrows went up. “And you’re still kicking? Damn. That’s pretty impressive.”
“Thanks,” I said, enjoying the warm glow of pride.
“All right. Let me go speak to my supervisor and see if he’ll give me the time off. If so, I’ll be right back. If not, then Falkon will wake up as his AI self, and you’ll know I couldn’t swing it.”
“We’ll wait with our fingers crossed,” said Lotharia.
“OK. Hang tight.” Falkon lowered his head and went to sleep.
“Your new friend,” said Kreekit. “He haunted by spirits. He need exorcism.”
“You’re not wrong,” I said. “But I think we should leave him alone for now.”
Kreekit shrugged and stood. “I go check on others. Make them find sword.” With that, she stomped down the steps and out of sight.
Lotharia and I looked at each other. “I really, really hope Lisa comes back,” she said.
“I know. She seems pretty cool. How does she get to switch between avatars like that? Is that something only Euphoria employees can do?”
“Anyone who’s not in Death March mode can do it.” She gave me a sad smile. “Or who’s not locked into one avatar, like me by my corporate account. Sorry, Chris.”
“Yeah.”
We both subsided into silence and waited. Falkon slept, shoulders rising and falling gently.
Time passed slowly. Fifteen minutes? Twenty? I was starting to get antsy when Falkon suddenly awoke. His head rose, he blinked, then ground the heels of his palms into his eyes.
“Lisa?” I asked.
“My pardon?”
My heart sank. “Oh.”
“My name is Squire Falkon the Kick-Ass,” he said, face straight. “Lord of Lattes, Killer of Eclairs, Devourer of—”
“You did it!” I leapt to my feet. “It worked!”
Falkon grinned. “Sure did. My manager was kind of bemused. When I explained the situation he said I’d get sick of dying over and over again within the week. I aim to prove him wrong.”
“Thank you,” said Lotharia. “The odds of our success have just tipped enormously in our favor.”
“Well, I wouldn’t go that far,” said Falkon. “I mean, what are we up against? Four ogres, plus an undead one? And a wyvern? Those are all level thirty plus monsters. We’ve got a hell of a fight ahead of us.”
“You know their levels?” I asked.
Falkon nodded. “Generally, yeah. From Euphoria’s early days, when that kind of info was readily available. But I’d have to see the monsters to know their actual levels.”
“How can you tell?” asked Lotharia. “All the crunch has disappeared.”
“For regular players, sure. But I’m in dev.” Falkon blew onto his fingernails then buffed them on his chain shirt. “And I’ve got a few dev tools I can use to help us out.”
“Really?” I wanted to scoot up next to him like a kid about to be told where all the Halloween candy had been stashed. “Like what?”
“Well, I’ve got to be careful. If I do anything flagrant I’ll get flagged by Albertus and
that could mean my job. But basic analysis? That shouldn’t be a problem. In fact, I can probably disguise it as a spell. I doubt Albertus would care about that.”
“That’s incredible,” I said. “Can you read the monster’s stat blocks?”
“I could, but that might be pushing it too far. Back in the day, before Albertus hid a bunch of stuff, there were different levels of info you could access depending on your knowledge skills. Everyone could see a monster’s name, level, and health bar. Then the health bar disappeared. Then the name and level. So it’d be easy to access the basic info, but if I wanted to simulate a knowledge check? That would activate a bunch of old mechanics that would probably flag me.”
“Oh,” I said. “Too bad. But that makes sense.”
“Falkon, why did Albertus hide the crunch?” Lotharia sounded distressed. “It was so useful. Really helped me orient myself.”
“Well, nobody really knows,” said Falkon, leaning back against the wall. “Albertus is kind of the ultimate when it comes to inscrutability. But what I’ve heard from a friend of mine in the senior dev team in Brussels is that he’s been looking to find the right balance between game and immersion. So having all those mana regen formulas and access to monster stat blocks made Euphoria feel like too much of a game. On the other hand, did you ever hear about that one week when he did away with every game aspect? Players lost access even to their own character sheets. Full-on immersion as if you were really living in Euphoria. Disaster. People freaked out, and he quickly reinstated sheets and so forth.”
“But why?” I asked. “Why does he care if it feels too much like a game?”
“Well, think about it. Have you ever wondered why a global AI, our first digital overlord, bothered to put together a game like Euphoria in the first place?”
I exchanged a glance with Lotharia then shook my head. “To make money?” It sounded weak even as I said it.
“Nah. Albertus doesn’t need or use cash. I mean, think about it: he’s basically every computer system out there. He controls everything from weather satellites to the stock market. OK, not controls; ‘observes’. He doesn’t need money. He’s beyond that.”