The Feedback Loop (3-Book Box Set): (Scifi LitRPG Series)

by Harmon Cooper

  The Dark Mage flips her hood back up, hiding her face again. “You have good weapons, but your armor … ” She snaps her fingers. “I know a blacksmith in Kiya, which is in the Klin Mountain Range. He owes me a favor. Now don’t hold me to this, but he may loan us some armor to use in the quest. If we rescue the princess, we can return the armor to him and buy some better armor from him.”

  “So you’ll join us then?”

  Veenure shrugs. “Sure, I have nothing better to do this afternoon.”

  Chapter Twelve

  The waves that break on the shore at the village of Kiya reflect the sunlight in a myriad of sparkles. Seabirds wheel and cry; some plunge into the water in their never-ending quest for food. Others carry twigs and dried grasses and other nest-building material in their beaks. In the distance, clouds mantle a great, snow-capped mountain.

  I turn back to look at the portal we’ve just exited. As do all the other portals that connect the cities of Hyperborea, it resembles the scaled-down Stonehenge attraction at DisNike Galaxy in Pripyat. Each of the standing stones in the circle is incised with Thulean vertical script, and each stone represents a different destination. When the proper incantations are made, the carved inscription on the appropriate stone flashes a brilliant blue-white, and anything within the circle is transported.

  “Normally,” Veenure explains, “we would walk to the next town, which is the best way to build EXP. We’re in a time crunch though – whoever rescues Empress Thun first gets the loot.”

  I feel Dolly take my hand. “You ready to do some damage, Doll?”

  “That’s what I came here for,” she says.

  The four of us follow Veenure through the town. There’s a stylized eye worked in semi-precious stones and metallic beads on the back of her hood, very similar in design to the ones worn by the alchemists we fought in the Battle of Morlock. Strange, but probably just coincidence – for some reasons, humans feel the need to constantly dabble with eyes. From currency markers to tattoos to ancient symbology – we love looking at peepers.

  “Chrono’s place is over here,” she says as she leads us past an open air market. There isn’t much for sale aside from fish from the nearby lake and various roots and herbs. A vampiric man floats by – pale skin, slicked back hair, Dracula collar – without casting a shadow.

  “Wow,” Veenure says after he’s left.

  “Joan and Barnabas Collins’ lovechild sure put a lot of time into his getup.”

  “He’s level seventy,” says Aiden.

  “Wait, you can tell levels?”

  Veenure says, “The Assassin/Ninja classes are the only classes that can reveal both player weaknesses and levels without magic. If you fought Collins’ lovechild as you put it, you’d see his life bar, but you wouldn’t be able to tell its actual size nor his abilities. Different levels, different abilities. Plus he’d seriously kick your ass.”

  “What level are we?” I ask Aiden, tossing my thumb to Zedic and back to myself.

  She scoffs. “You’re like level two.”

  “Terrible twos?”

  “I don’t think that’s quite what that means,” Zedic says.

  We circle around a temple with a fountain situated in the middle. The temple resembles Ray Steampunk’s gothic castle, aside from the fact that it’s about a quarter of the size and appears to be made of gold.

  “The Golden Temple?” I ask.

  Veenure smiles and cocks an eyebrow. “Yeah, that was a tough one to call.”

  Our pathway curves downhill to an area of closely spaced daub and wattle huts. Thin gray smoke wafts from smoke holes in the thatched roofs, digital pigs wallow, e-chickens cluck and scratch, and NPC urchins play stick-and-hoop, sword and shield, and dodge rock.

  “Keep an eye on your stuff,” says Veenure. “There are pickpockets in Kiya.”

  “When you have nothing, you have nothing to lose,” I remind her.

  Aiden appears behind me, lifts a suitably muddy and ragged NPC ankle-biter into the air by the collar of his rustic peasant garb. “Found a pickpocket,” he says.

  “Lemme go!” the NPC shouts, as it tries to kick and bite.

  Dolly’s hand comes up and an ectoplasmic aura appears around her fingers. The pickpocket falls to his knees and presses his forehead against her feet. “Now,” she says, “bring us the good stuff.”

  “Did you just employ a pickpocket to snag us some loot?” I ask.

  “Mind magic.” She taps her finger on her temple. “If I were at a higher level, I could employ the whole city.”

  Veenure nods, “I can’t say I disapprove.”

  Chrono’s blacksmith shop is nestled in a back alley, past a few fenced in lots with hungry goats stretching their necks through low wooden rail fences to get at some of the roadside grass. The sound of metal being vigorously worked meets my ears long before we officially reach the place.

  ~*~

  Chrono is a stocky man, two or three heads taller than me with more hair on his arms and chest than the genetically modified offspring of Robin Williams and a Yeti. His haircut and bearded chin spell Zangief, the notorious Russian brawler; the man is built like a brick defecatorium.

  “It’s been ages!” he says, scooping Veenure into his arms.

  “Easy, big guy,” she says.

  “What brings you all the way here? I thought you were in Polynya trying to snag a griffin!”

  Chrono’s blacksmith shop is your standard affair – a front room with a few wooden chairs in the corner demarcated by a wall separating the fiery heat from the paying customers. Choice pieces of armor are displayed on a few straw manikins. Pigface bascinets and spangenhelms sit on velvet strips inside his display counter.

  “I’ve joined a new guild.” she nods to the four of us.

  “PKers?” His muscles visibly tense as he sizes us up.

  “Nope, just some noob questers.”

  “Excuse me?” I ask, just about to spill the beans.

  Rocket: Keep your Dream Team status on the DL. It makes things easier.

  “What’s that?” Chrono the blacksmith asks, looking me over.

  “Nothing, just agreeing with Veenure. We are noobier than noobs. Anyway, she’s been mighty helpful today.”

  “She’s a great gal,” says the Russian bear. “And you … ” he takes a thundering step towards me. “You’ve got yourself quite a sword there. Mind if I take a look at it?”

  I unsheathe the Buster Sword from my back and hand it over, grip first and the blade across my forearm.

  “Valerian steel?” Chrono asks as he runs his finger along my ironing board of a sword. “Nope, Adamantium. Definitely Adamantium. You can only get this metal in Ultima Thule. How on earth did you get a sword like this when you’re still wearing beginner leather?”

  “I’ve got friends in low places … ” Where the whiskey’s dry as an oasis I almost say. “High places too.”

  “Actually, Chrono, that’s why we’re here,” says Veenure. “We need some armor that will keep these four alive while we try to save Empress Thun.”

  He hands the Buster Sword back to me. “I heard she was kidnapped. Happens about once a year. Regardless, new armor won’t be cheap, especially at such a short notice.”

  Veenure says, “Remember when I saved you from a particularly untenable situation outside Enhasa?”

  Zhukov on growth hormones runs his fingers through the hair on his chin. “I seem to recall that, yes.”

  “And the time in Kakariko Village?”

  “That does ring a bell.”

  “Well, now I need a favor. I’d like you to outfit us for this quest. If we win the quest, we’ll pay you for the armor. If we lose, we’ll return the armor to you.”

  One of the armored manikins rattles, clanks, and nearly falls over. Zedic takes a step back to cover his embarrassed grin. “Sorry,” he says, “just admiring your work. It is especially good.”

  “I’m the best blacksmith in Hyperborea.” Chrono says in a way that sounds more l
ike a simple statement of fact rather than a brag. “I’ve been doing it the longest and I have access to the best metals. Well, aside from Adamantium, Rearden Metal and Valerian Steel. Mithril is a prerequisite for most fantasy worlds, and there is an abundance down south near the Cape of Chukchis, so no worries there. My point – I won’t do you dirty by giving you shite metal, in fact … ”

  He cracks his knuckles in front of him.

  “Yes?” I ask. Over my shoulder, I catch Aiden moving into a defensive position.

  “The Klin Mountains, where Empress Thun has been taken, are famous for a rare metal located in a few caves. The metal is called Octiron, and while it’s pretty volatile, I’ve heard of Thulians crafting a nearly indestructible alloy by mixing Octiron with Orichalcum, a metallic pink oxide found on the southern coast of Hyperborea. In fact, it may be the only way to keep Octiron stable as this metal can only exist in a universe saturated with raw magic, which isn’t Tritania. Still, it’s there in the Klin Mountain range, which is where you’ll find Mount Mentlana. If you could bring me some, hell, I’d give you the armor for free. Hope I didn’t lose you there – I’m a bit of a metalhead.”

  I’m just about to politely explain what a metalhead is when Dolly steps up, “Sure, we’ll bring you some.”

  “Good!” Chrono claps his hands together, loud enough to startle the geese in his forecourt and set them to honking nervously. “I’ll give you some of the best stuff I have, crafted from a Harbenite and Vibranium alloy. This stuff was only available for purchase during Tritania’s third year anniversary week.”

  “Great,” says Zedic, “Sophia will be mad jealous.”

  Rocket: Sophia is his divemate, FYI.

  I give the sky a very subtle thumbs up.

  Chrono strides towards the other room. “You four are lucky to meet a player like Veenure, she’s as good as they come.”

  ~*~

  Vibranite Alloy Dragonscale Armor, item 573, is as cool as it is comfy. I’ve already accessed my hand mirror with an ivory handle, item 36, which engenders a few laughs from the guild.

  “You look suitably fierce and warrior-like, Quantum,” says Dolly. We’re standing in the forecourt of Chrono’s Blacksmith Shop, suited up and ready to rescue an empress.

  Dolly’s pickpocket runs into the forecourt, slams on the brakes, and gives the geese the hairy eyeball as they all flap and hiss at him. He falls to his knees in front of her, and holds out a roast chicken wrapped in burlap, a handful of small coins, a tortoiseshell hair clip, and a rusty dagger.

  “You’ve done well, and quickly too.” She smiles, takes the tortoiseshell hairclip and puts it in her hair. “You may keep the rest, now shoo!”

  He edges nervously out of the yard, never taking his eye off the geese, who in turn never their eyes off of him.

  Dolly smiles at me; I smile back, and turn to Aiden.

  “I feel like I should have long blonde hair,” I tell him, as he admires his new habiliment. Our armor is similar, but his is lightweight, perfect for the stealthy shit he’ll inevitably do later.

  “I feel like you should have a little black dress with strappy heels on,” comes his reply.

  Veenure cuts our banter short by sticking her finger in the air. “Everyone follow me, this way.” As she moves ahead of us she says, “the Klin Mountain Range is about thirty minutes away from here. We’ll probably have a few battles along the way, but nothing like the battle that lies ahead.”

  Dolly takes my hand. The NVA Seed is in a chainmail armor that somehow hangs from her body like a flapper dress. She’s wearing gauntlets but her upper arms are exposed, shoulders protected by articulated pauldrons. Trés chic, in a manner which would only make sense in a Proxima World. “The armor suits you,” I say, rather than the quip that first comes to my mind – I’d let you train my dragon any day. It feels good to get older and be able to contain one’s self on occasion.

  We round a small bend and move straight into a pine forest. The ground is littered in orange pine needles and small pebbles. A clear path lies ahead of us, marked by a wooden sign with an arrow pointing north: KLIN MOUNTAIN RANGE SCENIC OVERLOOK.

  “Be sure and take a screenshot,” I say under my breath.

  Rocket: Will do. Also, I took a few pictures of Dolly in her new gear … for you.

  I cast a mean mug up at the sky, which is partially covered by foliage.

  Rocket: What’s that for?

  “We’ll talk about it later,” I say.

  “Did you say something?” Veenure asks.

  Zedic to the rescue. “We were talking about the scenic overlook. Quantum’s a big fan.”

  “Yes, big fan,” I say. “Back home, I’ll drive twenty-five miles out of the way to stop at a scenic overlook.”

  I hear a swooshing through the forest. Plumes of smoke appear on the path in front of us and four ninjas step out. Their handles appear, but the length of their life bars stays static.

  “NPC Forest ninjas?”

  I unsheathe the Buster Sword from my back and move in for my first attack. The ninja wears greenish mosh netting, and flips backwards to avoid my attack. Now I’m frozen, watching my teammates move into action.

  Veenure says, “You have to be smarter than that. Use your inventory list – anything that isn’t a gun. Or link with someone else for a combo.”

  “My turn.” Aiden appears in a flash behind one of the ninjas, thrusts his knife into the masked tree hugger. The ninja’s life bar takes a fifty percent beating.

  “Nice!” I say as soon as he’s back.

  “They’re all level ten. The two with black headbands have smokescreen abilities,” he says.

  The beauty of innovative gaming makes itself known – with my sword in a ready position, I’m able to scroll through my inventory list to select something else to use on the forest button men. Recalling how the ninja dodged my first attack, I equip item 17, a wok filled with boiling peanut oil. That should do the trick.

  Dolly’s hand comes up and her eyes flash orange. Strobe light flashes from her fingers, and within seconds, one of the ninjas has turned away from the others and joined our side.

  “Mind magic?”

  Rocket: Badass!

  Veenure steps forward and shoots a series of fireballs at the three ninjas that haven’t Benedict Arnolded. Two dodge, but the guy Aiden shanked just moments ago is roasted like a Harajuku kawaii marshmallow. Zedic shoots a pair of arrows that connect with both enemy combatants.

  The first ninja attacks Aiden, who counterattacks because of his Berserker class. The other ninja follows suit, but Veenure dips left and does a disappearing act that would make Copperfield’s chest swell with pride.

  My turn arrives. I spring forward with my wok of hot oil and give him the old McNugget treatment – this one goes out to the semi-oppressive Government of Uzbekistan. The fried ninja falls to the ground and fades away.

  Veenure laughs. “That is … unconventional.”

  “You ain’t seen nothing yet!” Aiden equips his Acme roller skates, charges forward with his chainsaw – former item 112 from my list RIP – and gives the ninja a classic Texas Chainsaw Massacre. And all that’s left is the turncoat who Dolly Jedi mind-tricked ® into abandoning his homies.

  Not a lot to see here – Dolly gestures, and aff-schmazz-kapoop, the ninja draws his tanto and commits hara-kiri – seppuku to those who can’t stomach it. The trumpet sounds and we receive a small amount of EXP and a few rupees to boot.

  “That was surprisingly fun,” I say as I return my sword to its scabbard.

  Veenure nods. “Those guys were easy. We need a plan for the bigger baddies we’ll face in the mountains.” She turns to Dolly. “You’re low level, but you should be able to cast Ultra Target.”

  “I can.”

  “Good and you,” she says to Aiden, “can use a special ability with your Assassin-Berserker combo called Crazy Mofo. Cast this on Quantum and he has an eighty percent chance of a counter attack. He has the highest attack power.�
��

  I get the picture. “Dolly has all the enemies target me, and Aiden makes sure I can hit back just about every time.”

  “Exactly,” Veenure says. “For my part, I’ll cast Redeemer Lightning on you, which will form a lightning shield around your body. This will deal thirty percent damage to the enemy. Not only will you likely strike back, they’ll take damage just hitting you!”

  Zedic points at himself with his thumb. “And I’ll keep shooting healing arrows to keep Quantum’s life bar nice and plump.”

  Veenure’s green eyes shine under her hood, proud of the plan she’s just created. “We can adjust this strategy in real time, but it should work on our smaller encounters.”

  ~*~

  Life couldn’t get any stranger than mine. Sometimes I wonder if the escapism is killing me; on the other hand, I’ve never felt so alive, so free. No cane either. Not that my Commando Survival Cane wouldn’t be handy in a Proxima World.

  Battles galore.

  We whip our way through several forest ninjas. Our strategy works and I’m able to test out a variety of nonconventional weapons through our bouts. By the time we reach the scenic mountain overlook, I’ve Djangoed a couple of Foot Clan rejects with my thick chain, item 89; I’ve used my fire poker, item 70, to give a few rectal exams that will require Industrial Strength Preparation H; my Kingsman umbrella with retractable blade, item 79, has caused more than a couple of brainstorms; I’ve dispensed a few geography lessons with my wooden floor globe, item 522; and I’ve even used item 41, Bart Simpson’s slingshot. All in all – Zedic and I are up a level and Aiden and Dolly are fast on our tail.

  “Here we are,” Veenure says.

  The Klin Mountains spread before us. Some of the taller ones are capped with snow, and the biggest of them, Mount Mentlana, casts an enormous shadow as it rises from the middle of the range.

  “Where are we going again?” I ask, taking in the beauty. Of all the VE dreamworlds I’ve visited (or more appropriately, remember visiting), Tritania is by far the most appealing. The natural scenery, the digital fresh air, the sparkly dew drops on the grass, the white mushrooms growing from mossy tree stumps – the place resembles a scenic postcard sold at an incorporated national park painted by a de-extincted Bob Ross after a long night tripping with Timothy Leary’s spirit wombat. Swirling, beautiful, surreal. Not quite Daliesque, but the fact that there aren’t any melting spoons is probably to our benefit.