Blackout (Book 1)

by Adam Drake

“It's not what you think!” He called after here.

  “That line will never end well,” I said.

  “We should get Thorm down here,” Mudhoof said and hailed the barkeep for another ale. “If anyone needs to get drunk, it's him.”

  I shook my head. “Our Holy Knight is busy at the moment. And probably will be for quite a while.” Thorm had finally ditched his tail. Mister white cloak and his cronies eventually lost interest and went off in search of other players to hunt down. Now Thorm was fully invested in completing his Pegasus Mount quest chain, a sizable task. From my research on the forums few players completed it. But if anyone could do so, it would be Thorm. And despite my repeated offers to help, he politely turned me down. These quests were designed to be done as a solo player, he said. I could appreciate that.

  The barkeep brought another ale over to the table and Mudhoof scooped it up. “Well, Vee. What about you? Think that stupid owl is gonna come after you? You did unleash a Titan on his guildhall. Oh, and you killed him, too.”

  “I no longer think of Ogden as a problem,” I said. “He has his hands full repairing the damage to his empire, and his reputation.” Fortunately for Ogden, when I killed him, his corpse was swallowed by the Kraken. The Void Titan then entered our dimension, which resulted in Ogden re-rolling on this side. Had the Portal closed before the Kraken could enter, Ogden's newbie avatar would be floating in space right now.

  Ah, well, I thought. Can't have it all.

  Rumor was that Ogden had taken over a far-flung newbie-zone with clockwork soldiers. To speed through the quests, he made the soldiers fight mobs (NPC monsters) until they were down to one hit point. Then Ogden would step in and slay the mob, claiming all the resulting experience points for himself. Talk about pathetic.

  Mudhoof squinted an eye at me. “So what are you gonna do now? You're free!”

  That was true. What would I do with my newfound freedom? Quests? Grind experience points? Hunt for mats? Or maybe I'd just hop through the closest travel gate and see where it took me.

  Out of curiosity, I brought of up a list of newly generated quests to peruse.

  Scrolling through them showed what an influence my recent exploits had on the gaming universe. Apparently, a group of clockwork soldiers fled Ogden's guildhall and were rampaging through the countryside. Having received a recent upgrade from their manufacturer, they now demanded equal rights and their own home land. Several quest chains had been created around them. You could choose to aid the clockwork soldiers with their plight, or try to stop them.

  Another series of quests were generated around stopping the Kraken from destroying cities. The Titan slipped into a nearby ocean and now terrorized the local ports. Would any players be interested in killing this vile beast? Good luck with that.

  As for Wally's Womp, I saw no quests related to it, or any word on the news feeds. The giant Void Titan simply vanished. Hard to do with something that huge. A mystery.

  For each of these listings I swiped them aside. I was not interested in any. There was too much other content to enjoy. Making up my mind on what to jump into was frustrating.

  A chat request appeared in the corner of my vision. It was from Bishop the Red. I sighed. This guy just did not give up. Still, I was curious and not committed to anything but watching Mudhoof try to drink his avatar into oblivion.

  I accepted the request.

  Instead of a video feed, it was a text chat. Odd.

  Bishop: Hello, Miss Valesh. Are your services currently for hire?

  Now this got my interest. I loved the challenge of assisting other players with their quests. Because of the bounty on my head, I had to give that up completely. Not anymore.

  Me: Maybe. Whatcha got?

  Bishop: A difficult quest chain only a crazy person would attempt. Interested?

  Me: Heck, yeah. What's the split?

  Bishop: You keep 100% of all gold and loot found during the quest. I receive the final reward for myself.

  This sounded more than reasonable.

  Me: I'm in.

  Bishop: Perfect! I'll send you my location and give you the Quest scroll when we meet. With your assistance I believe I can finally finish this quest! Thank you.

  He signed off.

  I felt reinvigorated. A new quest, and one where I didn't have to look over my shoulder all the time.

  As I stood to leave, Mudhoof looked shocked. “Where ya going?”

  “Got a job, Muddie. Someone needs my help.”

  “I'll go with ya,” Mudhoof said and tried to stand. Instead, he fell forward onto the table, shattering it. The minotaur started to snore.

  I flicked a gold coin at the barkeep. “Look after him will you?”

  Then I went outside.

  I was in a newbie zone where new players bumbled about looking to level up as fast as possible. This was a mixed class zone, so there were warriors, and magic users, and thieves, and every other class imaginable.

  Glad I didn't have to start over again, I thought. Then I was struck with the image of Ogden whacking level one rats with a newbie sword and laughed.

  I summoned Smoke, and the horse appeared on the road before me. The majestic creature reared up with a dramatic flourish and kicked his front legs.

  “Easy boy,” I said and hopped on. “You'll get a work out soon enough.”

  I turned us toward a distant travel gate and kicked at Smoke's sides. The horse bolted forward and soon we were galloping at full speed.

  For the first time in a long while I had a smile plastered on my virtual face. Without Ogden's interference the game opened itself up to me, again. The sky - or the universe - was limitless.

  As we jumped through the gate, I let out an impulsive cheer.

  I was back in business.

  END.

  Shadow Wars

  A final battle for the greatest prize of all.

  I'm a complete noob when it comes to war.

  I've never led troops into battle, commanded formations or strategized an attack more complex than a simple dungeon raid.

  But now I'm expected to do all of that and win.

  Defeat is not an option. Everything I've fought so hard for will be lost.

  Men will die, armies will be shattered, blood will be spilled.

  This should be fun.

  CHAPTER ONE

  My view-screen suddenly went black, and a message appeared before me:

  You Have Died.

  Still shaking with the adrenaline rush of combat, I stared at the floating text in shock. What the heck? How did that happen?

  I'd been engaged in a ferocious knockdown, drag-out fight with an Elite Cyclops who happened to be the final obstacle in completing my quest. For two full weeks, I followed an elaborate chain of interlinked quests all leading to a final goal: The Lost War Banner of Y'Godda.

  After a lot of quest related angst and bother, the location of the War Banner had finally been revealed to me; a magically sealed cave hidden in the Forest of Dreams. The elation of my discovery soon evaporated when I arrived at the cave to find the Elite Cyclops guarding it, massive obsidian club in hand.

  Assessing the monster gave me pause. He was more powerful than me but not by much. Still, given everything I'd been through, giving up wasn't an option. We fought for nearly an hour. He, with is club and innate Cyclops abilities (like the One Eyed Death Stare), and me with sword and bow.

  My Shadow class granted me Shadow Form, the ability to effectively turn almost invisible. When he swung at me, I'd activate my Shadow Form and dodge away, only to reappear and strike at him from a different angle.

  It was going great for a while, too. Despite the Cyclops' near infinite reservoir of hit points, I'd chipped away at his health until it dropped to roughly fifteen percent remaining. Then disaster struck – I got cocky. Which, it turns out, is a fatal mistake when dealing with an Elite monster.

  I'd fired a Dazzler arrow that temporarily blinded him. But, apparently, the Cyclops race has a strong resistanc
e to blinding attacks – go figure. When I switched to my sword and ran in close for a final kill-strike, the Cyclops had recovered. The towering humanoid dropped his club and, before I could even react, clapped his meaty hands together.

  The result of using the Thunder Clap ability sent out a concussive wave which threw my little avatar pinwheeling across the clearing to splat against a tree.

  My view-screen distorted to simulate being nearly knocked out and disoriented. When my vision cleared, I found the Cyclops towering over me and massive obsidian club descending fast.

  I tried to roll out of the way, but not fast enough.

  Now I stared at a death screen. Something I hadn't experienced in what felt like ages. Years, even.

  With no more fight to engage in, I masochistically scrolled through the combat log at the bottom left of my view-screen. Here was a detailed statistical account of the fight. Just from these messages alone, things had looked good for me.

  Vivian Valesh strikes Elite Cyclops in the left leg for 220 hit points of damage.

  Vivian Valesh hits Elite Cyclops with an arrow in the right shoulder for 125 hit points of damage.

  And on, and on it read with similar messages, all showing how I'd bled away the creature's hit points to almost nothing.

  But then there was the final message.

  Elite Cyclops crits Vivian Valesh with Obsidian Club of Smashing. Elite Cyclops critical damage bonus is x 5. Vivian Valesh takes 3,500 hit points of damage.

  Vivian Valesh is dead.

  3,500 hit points of damage. Yup, that killed me alright, considering I only had 800 to begin with.

  I sighed and sagged back in my simulation suit its rigging and attachments pulling at my body. Normally my view was of the game's world and moving about in the suit went unnoticed. But confronted by the blackness of character death, its apparatus felt more prominent.

  Now what? I thought, trying not to sulk.

  Death meant I had to start all over again. Never mind the time wasted trying to locate the Lost War Banner of Y'Godda. All the progress my character made attaining levels over the years had been wiped out in one fell swoop of a crit-charged obsidian club.

  Such is the fickle nature of playing the game.

  Restarting my character meant suffering time in one of the dreaded newbie zones, areas filled with simple quests designed to coddle new characters through their first few levels.

  I silently cursed myself for being overconfident. The image of the club filled my vision.

  My frustration had gotten the better of me. I even considered slipping out of my simulation suit and just walking away from the game. (Sacrilege!)

  But I was an addict. Even in death, I needed my fix.

  I gave the view-screen my full attention. Sensing my eye movement the game faded the death message away in preparation for bringing up the character creation screen.

  But it didn't.

  Blackness, like a void, stared back at me.

  I wiggled my fingers and made gestures with my hands. Nothing happened. Did the game get hung up? Although an incredibly rare event, the game did bug-out on occasion, sending players back to their login screens.

  But no login screen appeared.

  After a few moments of finger karate and arm flapping, I decided to make an angry call to Customer Support. But before I did, a new message appeared before me.

  Amara Frostwalker has used a Ruby of Resurrection on you.

  Do you wish to be resurrected? Yes/No?

  Stunned, it was all I could do but stare at the screen. A resurrection. What are the odds? Me, way out in the middle of nowhere all on my own and someone walks by and offers to save me.

  Amara Frostwalker? Didn't know this person as far as I could remember. But I'll remember now.

  I selected Yes.

  The blackness of my view-screen dissolved away.

  Blue sky filled my vision, and I realized my avatar was laying on the ground. An elven woman's face peered down at me.

  “Hello,” said the elf. “You should be okay now.”

  I sat up, blinking in amazement.

  “Wow,” I said and jumped to my feet. “Now this is a first.”

  “A first what?” asked the elf. “First time dying, or first time getting killed by a Cyclops?”

  “First time being resurrected,” I said with a smile. Then I looked about in alarm. “The Cyclops?”

  The elven woman pointed to the edge of the clearing. A large body was splayed out on the grass. Its huge eye stared sightlessly into the sky.

  “How did you kill him?” I asked while checking the icons on my view-screen. Health was at maximum and no indications of any permanent damage.

  The elf shrugged. “While he was smashing your head with the club, over and over, I snuck up and back-stabbed him. Took him out in one go.” She smiled impishly. “It was easy because you'd taken his health down so low.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Thanks for that. And for resurrecting me. It was such a surprise. I'm not use to the kindness of passing strangers. Most players are pretty hardcore.” That was an understatement. Considering how high the stakes were in this game, you had to be really motivated to save another player. Especially when it might mean you could die, too. Instead of one person being sent to the newbie zone, it could easily become two.

  The elf woman nodded and looked a little nervous. She said, “I'm Amara Frostwalker, by the way. But you'd already know that now from the system message.”

  I let out a nervous laugh. “I'm Vivian Valesh, pleased to meet you. And I really mean that.” I laughed a little more and as we shook hands, I got a better look at her.

  Like me, she was a Shadow class character, only her race was elven. She wore a nearly identical outfit as me; hooded cloak, leather leggings and vest. But unlike my solid black garb, hers was a muted gray, with different tones.

  Across her back was a quiver which was full of arrows. On her thigh was a sheathed short sword. She stood a head shorter than me with a narrow frame which was typical elven bone structure.

  Her eyes were a bright emerald green, with hair a snowy white which was pulled back under her hood.

  “No worries,” Amara said. “It's not every day I get to rescue a legend.”

  “Legend? Me?” I said, taken aback.

  Amara's expression changed to one of disbelief. “Yeah! You're Vivian Valesh, the Shadow who defeated the Demon King and got the Legendary Cloak of Shadows.”

  “Oh, right,” I said. “That.” Uh-oh, I thought. Did I have a groupie on my hands?

  Amara beamed. “And you killed the Ogden Trite! The richest and most powerful player in the entire game.”

  “I'd argue against him being the richest and most powerful. But I'm sure he thinks that. And still does.” I am not a Player Killer by heart, but Ogden Trite had put me in a position where I had to take action. Lucky for me, it worked out in my favor.

  Amara nodded with enthusiasm. “Your exploits are all over the net. Engraved forever in the wikis, too.”

  Not sure what was expected of me I decided to make her an offer. “Let me pay you back for the Ruby of Resurrection. It's the least I can do.”

  Amara shook her head. “No, not at all. I didn't buy it. It was a random drop on a Daily Quest awhile back. Just never had the need to use it until now. I'm a solo player, mostly.”

  “Cool,” I said. Well, that would save me a huge pile of gold I couldn't really afford.

  Amara suddenly said, “I've gotta run, so I'll leave you to your quest.” She turned to walk out of the clearing and into the forest.

  Before she left I asked, “Hey, can I ask you a question?”

  Amara paused at the tree line. “Sure.”

  “Why'd you do it? Why'd you save me?”

  The elven woman raised an eyebrow in thought. Then said, “Because you never know when helping someone else might pay off in the future.” And with that, she vanished into the trees.

  Huh, I thought. Okay, sounds reasonable. Kinda
. But a little strange. What she had done was big, yet she wanting nothing in return.

  I shrugged and turned to look at a large stone door set within a nearby outcrop of rocks. The door's surface was covered with a magical barrier which rippled like a rainbow as sunlight played across it.

  My elation of being brought back to life morphed into an equally thrilling feeling: accomplishment.