by A. J. Markam
I beamed, happier than I’d been since I entered the game.
“He’s right.” Jen nodded as she smiled at me. “Way to pull it out right there at the end.”
“That’s what she said,” Richard murmured.
Jen stared at him.
“Quoting Seth again,” he explained.
Jen snorted, and then we all laughed our fool heads off.
29
After we joined back up with Slothfart and Russell and looted the rest of the manor (there were two more treasure chests, which I was able to open, thankfully), we set out for the nearest drinking establishment.
According to our maps, there was a town about an hour east of us, at the base of the mountain range. We reached it just as the sun was setting. Sure enough, we found a small mining town with a lively pub full of orcs, trolls, goblins, and elves of all types. There were even a few other dead guys like me.
We got a corner table and proceeded to pound back drinks to celebrate our first successful dungeon crawl together. It was crazy – even though the drinks were digital, they made me feel woozy and relaxed in the same way that the real stuff would have.
“And there’s no chance of barfing!” Slothfart exclaimed.
He had taken a little “personal time” right before we walked into the inn. When he reappeared fifteen minutes later, he was giggling uncontrollably.
“Do the colors look more vivid?” Jennifer asked.
“Definitely!” the orc chortled. “Better living through chemistry!”
Russell lifted up a flagon of ‘Pestilential Ale,’ which bubbled and smoked in a slightly sinister matter. “Here’s my chemistry, bitches!”
“Excuse me?” Jen said in annoyance.
“What, we can’t use ‘bitches’ now?” Russell asked.
“He wasn’t specifically talking about you, Jen,” Slothfart said.
“Yeah – I was calling all of you bitches,” Russell grinned.
“The royal ‘bitches’ – like the royal ‘we,’” Richard added.
“Well, I don’t want to be called a bitch, royal or not,” Jen said.
“I’d like to have a ten-inch todger,” Russell said, “but sometimes you have to deal with reality.”
“How would you like to be encased in ice?”
Slothfart, in his chemically altered state, began philosophizing about Russell’s last comment. “Dude, you can’t have a ten-inch wang – that would be bigger than you are!”
“Which would be anatomically impossible,” Richard said.
“If you got a hard-on in battle, you wouldn’t be able to see around it!” Slothfart exclaimed.
“I don’t care!” Russell proclaimed with a grin. “It’d be a whole new weapon in my arsenal!”
“You would basically be a walking, talking sex toy,” Richard pointed out.
“I could deal with that!” Russell waggled his eyebrows at Jen. “You could use me anytime you want, luv.”
“Watch it,” Jen warned, “or I’ll make you so cold your ‘outie’ will turn into an ‘innie.’”
“I don’t believe she’s talking about your navel,” Richard said.
Russell looked around at us guys and grinned. “Oy, she’s a frigid bitch, ain’t she?”
Half a second later, Russell was encased in a miniature iceberg.
Jennifer blew the mist off her fingertip like a gunfighter blowing the smoke off a pistol.
“Yes I am… bitches.”
Everybody erupted into cheers and laughter.
Everybody who wasn’t encased in ice, anyway.
Russell flexed his muscles as hard as he could, and cracks formed in the giant ice cube. After a few seconds of cracking noises, the ice blew apart into little pieces on the floor, then began to turn into mist like dry ice.
Before anybody could say or do anything, he lifted his metal flagon and proposed a toast. “Here’s to frigid bitches – and our newest member!”
Jen narrowed her eyes. “I don’t know if I should drink to that or freeze you again.”
“Just drink, luv!”
“Here, here,” Richard said, and raised his cup.
“Cheers!” Slothfart laughed, and pounded back his beer.
“Thanks for taking me on, guys,” I said happily. “I gotta tell you, it’s been awesome so far.”
“What, as opposed to the previous eight hours you spent in the game?” Jen teased me.
I grinned. “Definitely better than the previous eight hours I spent in the game.”
“Well, new guy,” Slothfart burped, “if you really want to show your appreciation, how ‘bout another round?”
“You got it,” I said as I got unsteadily to my feet.
“When you go to pay the bill,” Russell suggested, “go invisible! Actually, order up a massive tab first, bring it all over here, then go invisible!”
“I’ll see what I can do,” I laughed as I walked tipsily over to the bar.
As I was standing there trying to get the bartender’s attention over the crowd, a woman spoke right behind me. “Well, aren’t we having fun?”
I froze. All the hazy, mellow relaxation left my body with a single jolt of fear.
I turned around and found myself staring into Arkova’s disapproving eyes.
Speaking of frigid bitches…
“Hey,” I said.
“Made some new friends?” she asked. It wasn’t a friendly question.
“Just to level up.” I felt like a kindergartner with a mean-ass teacher I hated and feared, and the second day of school had just started.
“Follow me outside,” Arkova said.
“But I’m getting everybody drinks.”
She shot me a withering look. “It wasn’t a request.”
I glanced over at my friends. They were all laughing and hadn’t noticed Arkova, so I followed her out of the bar.
We emerged into a mostly deserted street, lit by two half-moons in the sky.
Arkova turned around and crossed her arms. “Well, I would chew you out for wasting time, but it looks like you’ve been busy. Level 9, hm?”
“I told you I just joined them so I could level up faster.”
It wasn’t exactly a lie – I’d initially joined them for that – but it wasn’t exactly the whole truth, either, since I was enjoying my time with them more and more.
“You didn’t tell them anything about why you’re really here in the game, did you?”
“No, of course not.” I turned back towards the bar. “I really have to get back inside – ”
“I would advise you to remember why you’re here, and that I’m your handler. I have the authority to send you back to prison like that,” she said, snapping her fingers.
I fell silent.
Apparently satisfied, she said, “All right, let’s go ahead and allocate your talent points.”
“I already did.”
She looked at me in shock, then anger. “What?! I specifically told you to wait for me!”
“I was in a high pressure situation! I didn’t have a choice! Besides, I put them into lock picking.”
“That’s not the point.”
I was getting angry. “What’s the point, then?”
“You’re here to do what I say. When I give you an order, you follow the damn order. It’s non-negotiable.”
I glared at her. “Why do you hate me so much?”
“Other than you’re a criminal, and I’m an officer of the law? Huh, I wonder why.”
“I was going to go straight before you set me up!” I snarled.
“You can lie to yourself however much you want, but we both know you would’ve wound up back in prison sooner or later.”
“No I wouldn’t have,” I snapped. “I was trying to do the right thing until you people trapped me by using my best friend against me. Wouldn’t you have broken the rules to save your best friend’s family?”
She looked at me for a second – then her tone slightly relaxed. “Regardless of what happened, y
ou are here to do a job. I expect you to do that job, and to follow my instructions. Are we clear?”
“We’re clear,” I grumbled.
“Good. Did you allocate all your talent points, or – ”
“I got another new one after I leveled up.”
“Okay, then we need to put it into enchanting.”
I frowned. “Enchanting? What’s that?”
“Basically imbuing ordinary objects with magical spells.”
“I thought I was supposed to be doing lock picking.”
“You are, but you get two specializations.”
“So why enchanting?”
“Because the higher you go, the more safes you’ll encounter that use magic in their locks.”
I looked at her, dumbfounded. “If the safes are magic, why the hell did you make me be a Rogue? Why not a Mage?”
“At least you’re learning the differences between the classes,” she muttered. “Because only Rogues can be thieves, that’s why. Well, they’re the only ones who can specialize in lock picking, anyway. We need you to convince the orcs that you’re a professional safe cracker inside the game.”
“What about combination dials?” I asked. “Why magic?”
“Because it’s a sword and sorcery game, and dials aren’t nearly as cool,” she said contemptuously. “I don’t know. Ask the game developers.”
“Look, my friends are going to be wondering where I am – ”
“Then let’s get this over with,” she said, and turned around and started walking.
I grimaced, then followed her down the street to a little row of shops. Inside one of the stone doorways was a bear-headed dude wearing an apron.
“Good evening,” he said in his rumbling voice. “What can I do for you?”
“Tell him you want to train in enchanting,” Arkova instructed me.
“I want to train in enchanting,” I requested.
He held out one oversized furry paw. “One silver.”
I handed over the coin and there was a flash of light. Glowing words appeared midair:
New profession learned!
Enchanting.
Level 1.
“How much money do you have?” Arkova asked.
“A little over four gold.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Not bad for your first day,” she said, then reached into her purse. “But I think you’ll need a little more, so I’ll front you the cash to – ”
“I have a diamond. A few rubies and emeralds, too.”
She stared at me in wide-eyed shock. “You have been busy.”
“That’s why I needed the talent points,” I said slowly, as though explaining it to an idiot.
“Fine. Buy everything he offers for both enchanting and lock picking. You should have more than enough.”
Two rubies later, I was in possession of a basic enchanter’s set-up: a wand made of polished wood, several pouches of magical dust, something called rune stones, and several pieces of cloth with strange symbols embroidered on them. Not only that, but I had ten basic recipes for enchanting objects, five new picks to add to my lock picking set, and the ability to unlock safes up to level 100.
Arkova walked over to a shelf and pointed at two objects. “Buy these, too.”
They both looked like Rubik’s cubes. One was a dull iron version, but with a different keyhole in the middle of every square. The other cube differed in only one way: rather than being a uniform gun-metal grey, every side was a different color: polished copper, deep blue lapis lazuli, glimmering orange, sparkling crystal, and on opposite sides, black onyx and white ivory.
“What are they?” I asked.
“They’re lock boxes for practicing your skills. The iron block is for regular lock picking, and the other one is a practice set for elemental magic lock picking.”
“Ele-what?”
“You’re going to run into a variety of spells as you pick the locks on more complex safes,” she said. “They’ll use spells geared to the six different types of magic – water, fire, earth, air, and dark and light magic. You need to become adept at picking all those types of locks.”
“Then why do I need enchanting?”
“Because you’re going to need to enchant your lock picks with those different types of spells,” she said. “Picks like that aren’t just common articles you can buy in a shop – in fact, the game doesn’t even drop them as loot, ever. They’re highly specialized and have to be created by the thief who uses them. Basically, you’re going to need to combine regular lock picking and enchanting in order to be truly effective.”
“Great,” I muttered. I grabbed the two cubes, which were fairly heavy, and held them up for the profession trainer to see. “How much for these?”
The bear-headed merchant grinned with a mouth full of sharp fangs. “A diamond ought to cover it.”
I grumbled, paid him, and then slipped my two new acquisitions into my bag – or tried to. They wouldn’t go inside. It was like trying to force two strong magnets together with the north poles facing each other – an invisible force simply refused to let me put the cubes inside.
“What the hell?” I muttered as I tried to force my new purchases in my bags, and failed.
“Are your bags full?” Arkova asked.
I checked. “Yeah, they are. Dammit…”
“No problem. Let’s go find a vendor who sells bags and then sell off some of the crap you’re carrying around.”
Ten minutes later I was in possession of three new ten-slot bags that brought up my ability to carry things to a grand total of 50 objects. I also sold off loot I didn’t need and all my old leather clothes I no longer had any use for.
“All right,” Arkova said, “this is where I leave you. Practice lock picking and enchanting every chance you get. You need to level up fast.”
“I thought I was. Leveling up fast, I mean.”
“There’s two different types of leveling – overall, and then profession leveling. I’m talking about lock picking and enchanting.”
“What about going out on quests?”
“Do that too, but if you have any downtime, practice.”
“When are you coming back?” I asked, hoping that it wouldn’t be for another couple of days. Or months.
“I’ll check in with you tomorrow after work. I expect to see some progress by the time I get back.”
She turned away, then looked back at me as though she’d remembered something. “By the way, I need you to go to the city of Sillomar.”
I remembered the name. “Where’s that?”
“North of here, about three days’ walk.”
“What if my friends don’t want to go?”
“Then leave them. You need to get to Sillomar. End of story.”
I didn’t say anything – I just thought of all the ways I wish Arkova would die right now. Vampire attack, gargoyles, giant walking trees with magic apples –
“Talk to you soon,” she said, and faded away before my eyes.
I stood there seething, thinking about how unfair this whole situation was. Stuck with a vindictive bitch who had the power to send me back to jail. It was like being sentenced to do the bidding of an insane ex-girlfriend who hated your guts and wanted to see you suffer. I swore that when I got out of this situation –
“Jimmy?” a voice spoke from out of the darkness.
I whirled around.
Jen was standing ten feet away, a curious expression on her face.
“Oh – hi.”
“We thought you might have been killed. Russell insisted you snuck off without paying the bill, but I didn’t think that was likely.”
“Oh, no – I, uh, I just had to get some air.”
“Is that what the kids are calling it these days?” she teased me.
“Huh?”
“That woman you were talking to.” She gave me a lopsided smile. “Were you trying to pick her up?”
“What?” I asked, confused. Then I realized she was talking ab
out Arkova. “No! GOD no.”
Now it was Jen’s turn to be confused.
“Who was she, then?” she asked, then hurriedly added, “Not that it’s any of my business.”
I went with the first explanation that came to mind – basically what I’d been thinking about just a few seconds before. “Uh – my ex.”
Jen’s eyebrows shot up. “Your ex-girlfriend?”
“Yeah.”
“…oh.”
An uncomfortable silence settled in.
Crap – I had been trying to make things less awkward, but bringing up an imaginary ex had made it even worse.
Not to mention that I was actually kind of attracted to Jennifer.
Not that I could really think about that while I was on my mission for the FBI… but at least she thought I didn’t have a girlfriend.
Until now.
Jen frowned. “Wait… how are you seeing an ex in the game if you’ve never played before?”
I stood there, my mouth open…
Think, dammit, think –
“She was the one who told me about the game,” I said. “I thought it would be cool, so I tried it out.”
Jen squinted at me. “I thought you said you wanted to play because it reminded you of your dad.”
Crap.
“I did – but I didn’t know the game existed until she told me about it.”
“So… you broke up with her, and you’re still seeing her in the game?”
“Uh… sort of.”
“Why aren’t you traveling around with her, then?”
“It’s… complicated.”
That seemed to satisfy her. She exhaled heavily. “Yeah… it always is.”
“Wanna go back inside?”
“That sounds like a good idea.”
We walked back inside the bar and sat down with the others.
Slothfart greeted me with, “Where the hell’s our drinks?”
“Oh – be right back.”
Russell put his hand out and forced me back down into my seat. “Nope, don’t wanna lose you again, mate. What did you do, fall in the toilet?
I thought about that for a second. I hadn’t had to go to the bathroom the entire time I’d been in the game.
“Is there a toilet?” I asked sincerely.
The entire group burst into laughter.
“No, there’s no toilets. That’s a little too realistic,” Jen said.