World of Eternia: The Complete Collection

by Antony W. F. Chow

  Laura sighs exasperatedly and shakes her head. "I don't understand you would want to keep your fame a secret, Mr. Conrad-the-Berserker," she says. "I'm not a groupie, you know," she folds her thin arms across her chest.

  Conrad shoots the necromancer an angry look for realizing his real in-game identity.

  "Oh, and did I mention that communicate with the dead ability also allows me to see you as well?" she grins again. Laura pulls up her player menu, and submits a request.

  An "Add Friend" request pops up on Conrad's screen. He starts to reach with his mouse to click on the red "Ignore" icon when the necromancer interrupts.

  "If you don't accept, I will post my encounter with Conrad-the-Archer in the public forums. I assume that you don't want your teammates to know about this alternate avatar," she says in a conspiratorial tone and grins again.

  "You're going to blackmail me," Conrad growls.

  "I like to make friends," she smiles innocently. “And I keep my friends’ secrets,” she adds with a wink.

  After a moment of thought, the ghost signs and clicks "Accept."

  "Thank you kindly," Laura purrs sweetly.

  Suddenly, an announcement flashes across all players' screens: "MATCH OVER. Red team wins!"

  "Damn," the necromancer says silently and shrugs. She had forgotten to grab the flag and end the match. However, if the match ends then Laura would not have been able to add Conrad to her Friends List. In the end, it was still a good tradeoff as it is more important to make powerful friends or at least allies in this game. She could get a win easily in the next PvP match.

  Conrad logs out immediately, knowing that he will hear from this strange player again very soon.

  Chapter 7 – Old Friends

  The bar is typical for one located in a college town: loud, boisterous, and full of young looking men and women barely out of their teenage years. Some patrons are playing drinking games like beer pong at various clusters in this large sized room, as their chants and laughter compete with the loud music booming over the speakers. The room is full of youthful exuberance, an overall level of kinetic energy comparable to that of a home game for the local college football team.

  Tucked away at a corner is a lanky looking man with short, spiked jet black hair. Wearing dark sunglasses and older looking, he is out of place compared to the other patrons. From a distance, his sharp dark navy blue business casual attire easily stands out compared to the normal tees and ripped jeans and short skirts worn by the others.

  The man is sitting at the bar by himself, a small shot of scotch left untouched on the table in front of him. Yet, his strong jaw line and lean build is reminiscent of a young Keanu Reeves, and the mysterious patron is gathering furtive looks and whispers from female admirers, none of whom has gathered the nerve to approach this dark and handsome stranger. Yet.

  Suddenly, the door to the bar opens quietly, and a man walks in. He, too, looks out of place from the crowd as the man is dressed in sharp, light gray business attire. The newcomer instantly draws attention with his tall, stout build, dark brown eyes and meticulously groomed short brown hair. Appearing to be in his early thirties, the businessman stays at the door while scanning the room. Locking his stern eyes on the man at the bar, the newcomer strolls in confidently while easily navigating his way through the throng of young, half-drunk patrons. Without a word, he takes a bar stool next to the other businessman.

  The bartender quickly walks over to the newcomer. “What would you like, sir?” the young looking man asks as he sets a piece of square shaped white napkin in front of the patron.

  The newcomer looks directly at the bartender. “Whatever he’s having,” the man says.

  The bartender pauses for a moment to remember what he served the other guest. The bartender remembers that it was scotch, nods and quickly turns around. He examines the impressive array of bottles of alcoholic beverages along the wall behind the counter. He takes the bottle of scotch, and retrieves a clean shot glass. Setting down the glass gently in front of the customer, the employee adroitly pours the strong scotch until the glass is two thirds full. Seeing the fiver on the table, the bartender takes the bill and leaves a dollar change. Reading the tense atmosphere between the two taciturn patrons despite their physical proximity to one another, the young man makes a beeline for the kitchen to grab a bucket of ice and leave the two men alone.

  Smart boy, the newcomer thinks with a wry grin. He reaches for the shot glass, and takes a tiny sip of the bitter liquor, savoring the burning sensation on his tongue.

  The other patron observes the tasting with amusement. "I see you finally learned to handle strong scotch, Charlie," he remarks.

  "I've learned to handle a lot of things, Richard," the newcomer replies. "So let’s cut this pointless chit chat, shall we?"

  "Patience has never been your strong suit," Richard T. Gibson says, pointedly ignoring the request.

  "Nor is your listening skills," Charles Winter retorts.

  Richard sighs. "We've known each other for how many years? Fifteen? It's quite sad how our friendship has devolved into such open animosity," he laments sadly. The two have known each other since junior year in high school, when they met in a computer gaming club.

  "Well, you know the reason behind it," the newcomer hisses.

  "What's that?" Richard asks coyly.

  Charles turns sharply to face his former friend, grabs Richard by the collar of his shirt and pulls the other man closer until their faces are two inches apart. Charles stares with burning anger into Richard's cool eyes. "You're a backstabbing thief. You know you stole my source code for a new gaming engine for your precious game," he spits out.

  Richard smiles smugly at the old accusation. The man simply can’t move on, can he? "That's not how Professor Tullen saw it. We submitted a joint project to him in our game design class, and he gave us both an 'A-' for the assignment. If you felt the code was your quote-unquote 'personal' property, you should not have submitted it to him as our joint assignment," he reminds Charles while deftly removing his former friend's fingers from Richard's collar. "Besides, I made major improvements to the source code for the engine, and stabilized it for commercial application. I don't think you're giving me the credit that I deserve," Richard adds while shaking his head softly.

  "Without my source code, you would have had nothing," Charles snarls.

  "Without my modifications, your code would have been useless," Richard answers back. "Anyway, you took advantage of my modifications, without giving me any monetary compensation, and utilized the modified game engine to launch your own gaming company and released commercial software for the personal computer (“PC”). If anything, I should be the angry one here," he points out.

  "In the meantime, you launched a rival gaming company, and even released a virtual reality game using the same engine," Charles retorts.

  "It's not my fault you didn't try to capitalize on the wave of interest in virtual reality," Richard shrugs as he takes a sip of the scotch. "The early bird gets the worm and all that," he notes while wagging a finger at his old friend.

  "Anyway, I didn't call you here to reminisce on past history," Charles changes the subject as he loosens the top button on his collar. "My Board of Directors has floated the idea of buying out your Eternia Development & Entertainment, Inc., and they asked me to put out feelers with you for this proposal."

  "No," Richard says flatly as his calm demeanor suddenly turns serious.

  "No as in you won't consider a merger of some sort with my Virtuous Gaming Co., or no as in you won't sell, period?" Charles asks for clarification.

  "EDE has no interest in being bought out by anyone. I didn't spend years of my precious youth building up my company just to cash out quickly," Richard replies. “I think Virtual Reality based Massive Multiplayer Online Role Playing Game (‘VRMMORPG’) is the next big thing in the gaming industry, and it would be foolish for me to exit the stage and cash out when I’m just getting started.”

 
Charles drums the fingers of his left hand on the table. "It's interesting that you raise the issue of cash. Rumor has it that your company is running out of cash, Richard. Your VR equipment is still too expensive for the casual gamer, and your annual tab for cloud services is astronomical. True, you are working on an expansion and that will bring in some needed sales revenue for EDE. However, if there is a shortage of consumers for the base package WoE game and equipment, then how many copies of the expansion will you be able to sell? Small wonder that venture capitalists are declining to make further investments in your company," he remarks. “I almost feel sorry for you, old chap,” he sneers.

  "I appreciate your concern, old friend," Richard replies coolly, not bothering to refute these observations since they are a hundred percent accurate. I need to find the leaks in my company, he realizes immediately. The issue of venture capital funding is private and EDE’s difficulty in raising additional rounds of funding is not well known. Richard sets the mental note aside to deal with the present problem. "EDE has the appropriate resources and personnel in place to continue developing the market for virtual reality gaming. There is no need to consider a merger with your company. Besides, your company’s product niche is in casual gaming for social media platforms. There is no fit between our companies," he points out. Richard finishes his drink and starts to rise from his bar stool.

  "If you change your mind, you know how to reach me," Charles says.

  Richard gets up and leaves without acknowledging the comment.

  Charles watches his old friend leave the bar. He turns back to the shot glass in front of him. He takes the remaining scotch in one gulp. "That went just about as expected," he remarks.

  A beautiful woman with platinum blonde hair takes the newly empty seat next to her employer. "Are you sure this was necessary, sir?" she asks.

  "But of course," Charles grins.

  Chapter 8 – Doubt

  “Was it wise to tip him off to your true goal?” Priscilla asks, as her doubt is apparent on her beautiful face.

  Charles lifts a hand to get the young bartender’s attention. He holds up his empty shot glass, and motions it towards his lovely female companion.

  The bartender nods in understanding, and quickly turns to retrieve another shot glass. Holding an empty glass in one hand and a bottle of scotch in the other, the young man walks over to the end of the table. He sets the glass and bottle on the table, and places one paper napkin in front of each patron. He places the shot glass in front of the female, and pours her a shot of scotch. He then refills the male patron’s glass. Seeing a twenty dollar bill on the table, he takes it.

  “Keep the change,” Charles says as the young man starts to move toward the cash register.

  “Thank you sir!” the bartender replies happily, and quickly moves on to serve the next patron at the bar.

  The pale looking, but handsome man turns to face Priscilla. He reaches for her shiny, smooth hair with his left hand, and gently twirls her strands of lovely hair with his forefinger. “You need to have more confidence in me,” Charles chides her mildly. “I’ve known Richard Gibson for some fifteen years, and more importantly I know how he thinks. He is a ruthless control freak. He believes in making meticulous plans and executing them,” Charles explains.

  The beautiful woman shakes her head. “How can he expect everything to go according to plan? Isn’t life full of surprises and unexpected occurrences?” she blurts out her doubt unexpectedly.

  Charles smiles at the questions. “During senior year in high school we took the same bus for our commute, and we would pass the time by playing Old Maid. He won nine times out of ten. He would run a lot of scenarios in his head, and strategize how he would organize his cards. I suspect that he would also gauged my demeanor and mood to make an educated guess on how I would pick out the blind cards from his hand,” he looks at Priscilla and sees that she is paying attention to his reminiscence. “Knowing Richard, he probably anticipated the possibility of some third party looking to buy out his precious company. And it’s likely that he has been approached many times already,” he speculates.

  “If that is the case, then what good result from your meeting with him at this bar?” She is totally befuddled now.

  Charles grins and stares into Priscilla’s eyes, revealing his strong determination and spirit. “He fears me,” he says. Seeing the questioning look on her face, he continues. “Out of all the people that he has known in his life, I am the one person that Richard fears. He respects my intellect, my determination, my stubbornness, and if I become fixated on something, Richard knows that I will stop at nothing to get it,” he explains.

  “In other words, you are purposely putting pressure on him, hoping to coax Richard into making a major mistake,” Priscilla notes in understanding.

  “Correct,” he twirls another lock of her luscious hair. “I am trying to wear him down mentally, and goad him into making a mistake. As a control freak, he has no one to turn to for help if he’s cornered. Me, on the other hand, I have you,” Charles smiles.

  Priscilla smiles back and draws closer to kiss him on the mouth.

  Chapter 9 – Reservation

  The Chief Executive Officer of Virtuous Gaming Co. (“VG”) passes by a number of open desks, some occupied already at 9 AM but a good one third still unoccupied, on his way to his corner office. When VG needed to move to a bigger office to accommodate additional staff, Charles Winter specifically chose the opposite corner from the southeast entrance of the building for his new office. As the head of the company, he had first dips on any area on the entire rented floor to set up his real estate. Why would he willingly choose the office space furthest from the exit? Many employees were confused, and he never bothered to explain his decision. The reason is simple: the path from the entrance to his office requires Charles to walk pass the work space of his employees. It's a simple way for him to observe who is showing up for work on time and who is coming in late. It also allows the CEO to be seen by his employees, and allows him to set an example to be punctual and arrive at work on time.

  Of course, this morning routine also allows employees to approach him whenever necessary simply by waiting at one of the three possible routes (northern, middle, and southern) between the entrance and his office. "Good morning ladies," the pale man smiles pleasantly at the beautiful platinum blonde haired woman, who is standing in front of a colleague's desk.

  Priscilla turns around quickly, and smiles back. "Good morning, sir," she says. The two are secretly seeing each other outside the office, despite office romances being taboo. However, the CEO made sure that co-workers dating are not explicitly forbidden as company policy, and thus there are rumors regarding who is dating who in the office.

  Lorna Cheung-Whitney, a woman in her late thirties with yellow skin and curly black hair that highlight her half-Asian heritage, looks up over Priscilla's shoulder and smiles at the newcomer. "Good morning, Mr. Winter," the office manager says. The game developer had hired a number of young programmers and artists within the past year, and the mother of two has had her hands full keeping the twenty something kids in line at the office.

  "Any trouble, Lorna?" Charles asks. He likes to keep abreast of any issues with the new hires, and he values the office manager's sound judgment. If Charles ever needs to step away from the position of CEO, she would be on the short list of candidates to be his successor. During new employee orientation with the dozen new hires, he made it clear that Lorna has his full support and she will report any youthful indiscretion directly to him. So far there has been one knucklehead who has already failed a drug test, and is on probation.

  "Just the black sheep," Lorna replies. Seeing her boss raise his brows, she quickly adds, "I will send you a full report." She does not want to discuss personnel issues out in the open. Only the three corner offices have doors; the rest of the work space at this company is more like open cubicles with four feet high partitions for some small resemblance of privacy. As a result, office
gossip at the desks is a favorite activity, passed around via instant messages.

  "I will look for it," Charles responds with a nod and continues moving on. He will log into his administrator account to take a look at the messages between the two employees later on. The CEO believes in running a tight ship in his company, and the marvels of technology today means that he can read any and all communications that pass through his company’s servers. It enables him to supervise his two dozen employees more closely, and the information gleamed from their electronic exchanges allow him to build personnel files. That was how he learned that Priscilla’s twin sister, Diana, is a member of The Strangers, and made sure that this team won last year’s tournament event in the World of Eternia.

  Charles doubts that the fools running EDE were aware of his manipulations with certain encounter scripts in the Curse of Eternia campaign. Even if EDE later became aware of the breach in their game server and alterations in the event script, what could they do about it? Eternia Development & Entertainment, Inc. could not publicly announce the breach and lose all credibility with their consumer base. Nor could they nullify the results and redo the campaign from the beginning. Charles smiles smugly as he continues walking down the hallway to his office.

  Finally the CEO arrives at his northwestern corner office, and sees a middle aged man waiting outside his door. Charles hides the annoyance from his face as he smiles broadly to greet Martin Pembrose, the Chief Financial Officer. “Good morning, Martin,” he says in a pleasant tone of voice that masks his annoyance at the unpleasant sight of the goody two shoe.

  As founder of the company, Charles had handled all the financial and accounting transactions for the company by himself. And it was his preference anyway since it allowed him a tight grip over the cash outflows for the company. However, his venture capitalist investors had insisted that Charles hire a CFO to handle those responsibilities, all in the name of good corporate governance. Furthermore, they insisted on this man in particular, Martin Pembrose, to take the CFO position, no doubt to keep an eye on Charles for them. The CEO seethed at the idea of having a supervisor over Charles’ action, especially since Martin has de facto veto power by simply refusing to sign over the checks. Nonetheless, Charles has to play nice with the man.