by Arthur Stone
* * *
"Meet our guest for tonight! It is the gorgeous Jessica that had already cheated on her boyfriend with three different guys, yet claims she loves him more than anyone in the world! You have to admit few can claim they've ever done anything of the sort! And I totally agree! But how many would manage to keep it secret?! Very few! Also, have you ever heard of someone cheating on their boyfriend, yet remaining at the distance of just a few feet?! You haven't, have you?! This is what makes our Jessica unique! And I wouldn't dream of being a shamer in this situation—she has every reason to do what she does! Jessica, would you explain to us why you're doing what you do?"
"I'm doing it to get him back."
"Get him back?! But where did he go? Did he leave you and go someplace else?"
"Well, he's not with me. Nor is he with anybody else."
"Where could he be, then?!"
"He hardly ever leaves his black box."
"He's in a box?!"
"It's more like a coffin…"
"A coffin?!"
"A virtual reality capsule. It's a coffin, all right."
"You mean, he's playing the game all the time?!"
"He isn't just playing. He spends all his time in the game. He even asked me for money for a new capsule, with life… uh, support abilities, I guess, whatever those are."
"Complete life support abilities?"
"That's right. He wants the capsule to feed and hydrate him. And take away his bodily waste. He just never wants to come out of it, and that's horrible."
"Have you tried playing together? Many couples do it, after all. They claim it provides them with options they would never have had in real life."
"But we have no savings. I have to work for two, anyway. He's no help. He's a constant drain on our funds. And he's no longer attracted to me sexually. The game has changed him. You wouldn't recognize him at all. He only gets out of his box to eat something, or to go to the toilet. And there have been a few cases when he ignored the toilet. He filled the capsule with his pee. There was a short circuit, and he nearly caused a fire."
"Yew! That's as gross as it gets! He sure won't be happy about us finding out! Most people prefer to keep such incidents private!"
"Nah, he doesn't care. I'm sure he has someone in the game, too. They keep going at it like rabbits on steroids, after all. Even if you stream this footage to his feed, he won't be interested enough to finish watching it. He has no interest in me or you. His game is all he needs."
"So you cheated on him right on his capsule, having sex with other men just to get your revenge for his obsession with the game?"
"It wasn't that. I just wanted to get closer to him. I still remember him the way he used to be. He pays me no attention whatsoever these days, and I'm a young woman. I have needs. My shrink told me in no uncertain terms I should never go without sex for more than two weeks."
"That is, indeed, a problem…"
"You tell me?! I sometimes curse my Johnny. Once I even wished he'd become a ghost like that other guy. Since he seems to love that crappy game of his so much he can't leave it for a moment."
"A ghost?! Which guy were you talking about just now?"
"Well, you know, that one… I don't remember what his name was. I heard it on the radio. He seems to have burned down or exploded in the capsule. And his ghost keeps haunting the game, and he has nowhere to come back to. It was absolutely awful of me to wish something like that upon Johnny, but you have to realize I'm really on edge right now, under lots of stress, and with unsatisfied needs… My whole life has gone south because of my nerves. I gained seven pounds in two months, would you believe that?"
(A fragment of Loser's Day, a TV show rife with scandal and gossip).
Chapter 6
One should never underestimate one's opponent. If you wished to get into the mind of your enemy, you should imagine yourself in their place and hope they weren't smarter than you. In other words, you should expect that you would think among the same lines and that your actions would be similar, given the same challenges.
Therefore, Ros had a pretty good idea of what conclusions his pursuers would make. Once they lost Thyri, they wouldn't shed too many tears over her boots. They'd instantly switch to the other track. One left by a strange mob appearing out of nowhere and then running off to take care of its own business. That wouldn't be all that strange by itself, but they might try to track him, given the circumstances—there were no other leads, after all.
There was a user-created mob footprint database. If one took a good shot of a footprint, one was likely to find out what kind of a creature had left it. The mob used by Ros was in it—he had checked beforehand. It appeared only recently, after the Locked Lands crisis—all those discoveries resulted in a serious expansion of the mob database. The trackers would most likely identify the species easily enough and cease the pursuit.
They had no interest in mobs, after all.
Nevertheless, Ros had a backup plane in case they stay interested and follow through with the chase. That was the very reason he had begged Thyri to give him her copy of the map of the area. She must have explored it thoroughly—or, alternatively, she could have gotten the information from other players. At any rate, he had enough details for making a plan.
The worst thing was that he'd had to spend an hour riding the pet, and he cursed that way of traveling some three hundred times. It was a singularly unpleasant way of traveling—a true torture, in fact. Crawling across sharp stones would be better than this.
The wyvern was nowhere to be seen—thus, it must have followed the track of his first pet. They'd lose it soon enough, and then spend some time looking at the boots lying right there in the middle of the forest, thinking of what could have happen and what to do next.
The wyvern might reappear later on, though, and its rider would watch all the open spaces. They'd be someone with beefed-up Perception, but Ros had really decent Disguise; he had also put on as many items that gave him a bonus in that respect—fortunately, his bag had been full of all sorts of items. That made him unlikely to be spotted from up high, especially given that the trees gave extra protection.
But things would get hairy pretty soon. There was a narrow creek running around the bottom of a woody hill, but the terrain beyond it was virtually a wasteland, with nothing but sparse shrubs growing here and there. It would be hard for anyone to miss him there.
However, he hadn't planned on crossing it. Any blatantly stupid act would be a gift to his enemies. However, the pet would have to take a walk through those parts. It was finally the moment of joy when he could leave this sadistic machine for torturing any rider desperate enough to mount it. He really wanted to kill this oversized chicken… It didn't care one whit about the rider's comfort.
He rode the pet into the water, and then set a direction and gave it his last order—namely, to run that way as fast as it could without letting its attention wander. According to the map, there was a huge lake that lay beyond the wasteland, so the pet would have to take a swim shortly. Once it got far enough, it would vanish due to the lack of contact with the owner.
The fooled trackers would have to think long and hard on what could have happened to it. The lake was really deep, and many creatures of all sorts haunted its dark waters. They included a few dangerous predators. Those could be blamed for virtually anything.
He gave the pet enough time to reach the lake and disappear thoroughly. Then he started to float downstream, following the river. It may have been narrow, but it was clean and deep enough, so it was actually a most enjoyable experience. The water was cold, unfortunately, but he could live with that.
Compared to what he'd had to experience on the pet's bony back, it was a most enjoyable journey.
However, he didn't float for too long. Once it got really cold, he found a rocky shore, got out of the river, dried himself off a bit, and started his ascent to the top of a nearby hill, walking across moss-covered rocks. There were no trees growing upon it,
but he didn't care much, since he didn't expect the wyvern back for a while. If the Tarantulas reached the lake and lost track of him, they'd stay there for a while, searching the shores. They'd need to know where the mob had come out of the water, after all. And it would take them a long time. Ros could climb the Everest in the meantime, let alone a measly hill.
According to the map, the lake was pretty big. There was also a large river flowing out of it and a few more flowing in. They'd have enough to occupy themselves with.
The terrain kept getting rougher as he moved on. Ros walked through enormous piles of rocks, climbed them, and tried to be as careful as he could making his way through the treacherous rockslides. He kept on climbing. That was the shortest way to the village—it would make no sense to backtrack to the fork in the road with a good map; he could get there directly. There seemed to be no areas of any interest to players here, so he could keep the risk of unwanted encounters to a minimum if he kept away from the roads. He'd gotten well away from the front line. The only thing that worried him was the situation with the pissed-off Tarantulas. If it hadn't been for this conflict, he'd worry about nothing but the most unexpected scenarios. He could make a turn right here and cross the wilderness, and he would reach the capital eventually, without running into anyone for the major part of his journey.
And abandon Thyri…
The only bond they had between them was his word. And one's word meant a lot in the game. In real life, too, come to think of it. Ros was accustomed to taking his obligations seriously.
Apart from that, he was almost certain that if he lost Thyri, he would find other players eager to accompany him, and they might turn out a lot less pleasant or useful.
He remembered the first two well enough. A mentally unbalanced invisible archer suited him a lot better. After all, if someone went to such lengths to provide him with escort, he should hold on to the companion he liked.
There was a mossy dolmen at the top, made out of rocks the size of railroad cars. It was a majestic sight, but when Ros saw it, he stopped and made a detour at the bottom, without risking getting too close. All kinds of undead mobs could haunt ancient structures such as this one. Most of them were weak—especially in the daytime—but even low-level mob of this class can be dangerous enough with high socialization. You could hack at a skeleton only to have seven more arrive, accompanied by a lich with magic in his very bones. One of those would be bad news even by itself.
And Ros couldn't take risks getting into fights where he didn't know the area well.
The other side of the hill was a welcome surprise. It was a meadow with emerald green with a few moss-covered rocks scattered here and there. It looked amazing, and it was a pleasure to walk over. He wished every terrain would be like this.
But Second World was created to entertain players, and tried to do everything to keep them from getting bored. So, as Ros was descending the hill without a care in the world, the game was tirelessly working on preparing an unpleasant surprise.
But Ros was no easy mark, either—he had already gotten into the habit of constantly keeping an eye on his surroundings. That's why he managed to notice something was afoot from far away—there was a chain of creatures looking rather impressive far below. They looked exactly like the high-level mobs he met on the first day after the fall of the barrier between the known world and the Locked Lands. The wild hordes swarmed out instantly, destroying everything in their way. Some of the mobs were more civilized, and Ros had had the dubious pleasure of being their captive. On the other hand, he was never bored for a moment, and the time spent there was to his benefit.
"Unknown creature. Aggression: unknown. Sociality: unknown. Level: unknown. Abilities: unknown. Stats: unknown."
Just as he had suspected. High-level monsters looking very much like the ones he'd seen before. However, he'd never encountered this particular species before—there was a lot of variety, after all. He'd be unlikely to learn any more details even if he could get closer due to the same old level gap.
Those creatures were strong—extremely so. He'd already killed a few wild ones, but he had a high-level pet to help him that time. He could just keep healing it and care for nothing else—it would never allow anyone to so much as lay a finger on him.
He wouldn't be able to repeat that trick with the kind of pets he had now—they'd receive so much damage he'd never manage to heal them in time. Ros himself was too weak for taking on the likes of those mobs, regardless of his talents and his oddities. He may have stood a chance against a single monster, but two would already be his demise for sure.
Damn! It seemed as though they noticed him! They froze, staring upwards. Ros was a total noob, after all. He decided that he had lost the pursuit, and replaced the items with bonuses to Disguise by those allowing him to move faster. He was moving with sufficient speed now, but it was much easier to spot him, too—and someone's attentive eye had already seen him. High-level monsters usually had high Perception, and a most impressive aggro range to boot. They started moving fast—and they were still at a distance where not even the best archer would have been able to hit them with an arrow. Most monsters paid no attention to players who were that far away.
But all of that applied to mobs with levels under 200.
Just his luck. From the frying-pan into the fire. He must have been looking at one of the invading parties that the Tarantula slain by Thyri had mentioned earlier.
So, what could he do now? Running away seemed to be the best option.
Those items with bonuses to Speed would come in very handy now.
* * *
Ros crossed the last few feet of a steep ravine with clay soil, and looked back wearily. The river that he had just crossed was flowing down below, with the emerald-colored meadow on the other bank flanked by a dark green fir wood wall. The mobs were coming from that direction, one after another. They kept on moving in the same formation as earlier. The slowest ones had already fallen behind, which was a small comfort. Those things were truly hideous to look at. Apart from being incredibly ugly, they were some twelve feet tall or more.
These were smaller, but Ros would still be like a newborn babe if he had to fight them.
One, two, three… Eleven altogether. Two would already be more than he could handle. As for a group like that…
"You twisted bastards, why would you go after a noob, anyway?!" he shouted, shaking his fist at them.
His outburst didn't seem to have any effect on the mobs. They kept on walking at the same pace as earlier, without making any unnecessary sounds. The one in front would occasionally stop for a second or to and gaze in Ros's direction, and then head onward. The beast had an enormous bow behind its back, and the shortening distance would allow him to place a shot any moment now.
Judging by the size of the bow, the arrow would be as large as any javelin.
Ros turned around and started running across what was technically a wasteland covered in short rough grass, that kept crackling loudly under his feet. He barely managed to start running as fast as he could when he had to adjust his trajectory—there was a narrow arroyo right in front of him. He started following it and shortly regretted the fact that he hadn't crossed it when he had an opportunity. The arroyo kept getting wider and deeper, and it could hold him back considerably.
Yet he decided against going back. His pursuers might not be the fastest mobs out there, but the distance between them kept shrinking. And he had no intention of letting that go any further.
The arroyo seemed to be mocking him. It kept getting more and more sinuous, transforming into an impassable canyon. Logically, it should get smaller as he got farther away from the river. Nevertheless, you could even see such anomalies in real world; as for the game, with all the mistakes made by its very first developers immortalized, anything could happen, and Ros no longer found it odd. According to the forum posts, there were in-built and complex mechanisms removing those bugs eventually, but there were still quite a few left.
He could indeed have crossed the arroyo here. However, it turned out that he wasn't the first to make this discovery. A dozen knights in plate armor formed a line, sitting on armored horses, right at the bottom. They didn't make a single noise—Ros's first impression was that he had run into a row of statues.
However, they turned out to be very much alive, as he noted with chagrin.
He looked behind him with hope, but, much to his disappointment, he saw that the mobs had already crossed the river and were now moving right toward Ros, taking a shortcut instead of taking the same way across the bottom of the arroyo as him.
There were unidentified mounted knights in front and a wild horde regiment at the back, and it felt like he was in a bit of a fix.
Nevertheless, if he could be certain about the mobs pursuing him, the riders were an unknown quantity. It might make sense to take a closer look at them—after all, they stood there motionless, without showing any signs of aggressive behavior. Ros felt he shouldn't feel so scared of them—after all, there was no such law that everyone met in Second World would necessarily attack you. The contrary was closer to the truth, in fact.
It must have just been his paranoia. After all, dying right now would be an enormous setback.
It was easy enough to see the knights weren't players. They weren't mobs, either. Nor were they an assorted collection of NPCs—everything about them looked orderly and uniform, giving them the impression of a regular army. The only thing that set them apart was the badges they wore. They looked like an elite NPC warrior regiment. But those weren't mercenaries—Ros had seen enough of those back in the day. These looked more like soldiers of the imperial army. He saw their squads ride through the cities with a great deal of pomp once or twice—they had excellent armor, heavy spears with streamers tied to them, and narrow banners fluttering in the wind.