by Matt Vancil
“Place your bets now,” said Mansex. “Who’s the traitor this time? My money’s on Yanker.”
“You should hope it’s me. I won’t do as much damage. Haven’t got the arrows.”
Ulix’s eyes flared. “We shall live forever!”
The Eternal Emperor hurled his spell. The Truth jerked and metamorphosed into a spiny ghoul. He spun on Bandaid.
“It would appear I chose the wrong place to stand,” said Bandaid. The possessed Truth cut her in half.
With a grating scream, the hold spell released. Ulix summoned a horde of Egyptian-themed zombies. Mansex machine-gunned fireballs into Ulix until the Truth-ghoul cut her to pieces.
Noob sighed. They were gonna wipe. “Let’s go die by the stairs.” The Truth-ghoul charged him.
Yanker whipped out her glue arrow. “Noob, do you trust me?”
“Of course.”
“Then run for Ulix.”
“You’ll miss.”
“I’m not aiming for him.”
Noob ran. The Truth swung at him as he passed; Noob tucked and tumbled under the sword, sprang up, and made for Ulix. The Truth-ghoul whirled after him.
Ulix, true to his programming, backtracked in preparation to blink away. Noob had him cornered, and as he couldn’t blink back through a wall, Ulix shot back the other direction— behind Noob, into the area The Truth was charging through.
Yanker fired. The glue arrow burst all over the Truth-ghoul and caught Ulix in the radius.
“Yes!” Yanker pumped a fist. “Got him! Noob, I think you can take it from here.”
Noob wall-jumped out of the corner, flipped, and drove his blade into Ulix’s back. The complexity of the maneuver triggered a style bonus, and he critted for 4x regular damage.
The crit broke Ulix’s spell. The Truth-ghoul reverted back to The Truth with the dungeon’s end boss—the single hardest boss in the game before the expansions were released—stuck to his chest. The Truth’s whole body seemed to grin.
Noob hit 100 as Ulix’s head bounced down the stairs.
8
Graduation Day
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The Roaring Heart, in the Shady Quarter of Marrowstone City, had gotten its name from its roaring fireplace, now blocked by a legion of dancers. The moment
“We’re celebrating IRL tonight too,” said Yanker, “so everyone drink.”
Mansex gyrated between dwarves. “Bandaid!” she yelled. “Get those hot priestly peaches up here!”
“Get behind me, Satan.”
“Shake them asses to the masses!”
“That doesn’t even make sense.”
“Come on, just this once! Show me the wickedness of my ways! It’s Noob’s birthday, cut loose a little.”
“I am a bastion of morality and temperance, a bulwark against temptation.”
The bulwark fell after the third round of drinks. A few ciders in, Bandaid was dancing on the table, naked but for her gloves and mitre, hurling buffs and heals at random players.
“That,” said Yanker from the guild’s table, “is something I never thought I’d see. Or you at the level cap, either,” she said to Noob. “And with a day to spare, even!”
Noob put on a smile. “I am very, very tired. And I didn’t do it alone. Not by a long shot.”
She nodded. “Still quite a feat. Didn’t know if you’d make it. Some of us didn’t think you would.”
“She means me!” yelled Mansex.
“You are one dedicated guy,” said Yanker.
Noob shrugged. “Well, with the right girl pushing me…”
The Truth nudged Yanker. “Right! So hey, we got you something. A little graduation present.”
A trade window opened in front of Noob. Reid saw a full set of epic-tier armor in it: boots, leggings, everything. It was a masterwork of crafted leather, deep violet with gold and silver filigree. A dragon design started at one wrist and swirled up the arm and across the chest.
He’d heard of this set on rogue forums. A player who found even one piece of it was lucky. A full set, with the completion bonuses? People paid real money—good money—out of game to get this armor.
“Purple Ninja Armor,” Reid said with reverence. “A full set?”
“The best stealth armor in the game. World!” said Bandaid. “I meant world.” She plopped down at the table, still in her underwear. “May it aid you in your romantic quest.”
“We saved until we had a complete set,” said Yanker. “Already had a couple pieces sitting there in the guild bank.”
“I wanted to sell it,” said Mansex.
“So I had these three farming the rest of the drops while you were leveling,” Yanker said. “Well? You gonna try it on?”
Reid didn’t hesitate. Noob’s old billowy black ensemble disappeared, leaving him in his boxers. Piece by piece, the Purple Ninja Armor appeared on his body, culminating with the headpiece. The guild applauded.
“You look awesome,” said Yanker.
“I look like a Power Ranger,” said Noob.
“It increases your stealth speed by 300% and reduces your Shadowflash cooldown to ten seconds. You can almost sprint in it and stay hidden. You still break stealth when you take an action, but with that rating? Shit, you could sneak up behind a rogue of your own level and not get noticed. Probably steal his pants right off him.” Yanker beamed.
Reid didn’t know what to say. “This is too much.”
“Nah,” said Mansex. “Anyone can get the armor with enough effort. The Godsword, though? Only one of those.” She chugged half a bottle of whiskey and hurled the rest in the fire. It exploded and set the nearest dancers ablaze. “Well, this has been fun, but I’ve got lab in the morning. Too bad I’m not Chuck Norris, because—”
“Chuck Norris doesn’t sleep,” said Noob, over the screams of the burning players. “We’ve heard it.”
“Many, many times,” added Yanker. Bandaid extinguished the flames and started handing out heal spells to burnt revelers.
“Yeah, well,” said Mansex. “Still true. Night, pigfuckers.” She sat and faded away.
“Methinks I too should retire,” said Bandaid. “I have much atoning to do for tonight’s debauchery. Rest well, noble friends. The Godsword is ours tomorrow.”
Her clothes reappeared before she sat and faded from sight.
The Truth clapped Yanker and Noob on the shoulders. Then he, too, sat and vanished.
“It is pretty late,” said Noob. “Nearly 2:00am my time.”
Yanker nodded. “Yeah.”
“I’ve got work in a few hours.”
“Same.”
“We should probably go.”
“Probably.” That would be the responsible thing to do.
Reid wondered what he was doing taking a midnight stroll with a girl whose name he didn’t know, whose voice he’d never heard. Not even a girl, he reminded himself, an image of a girl. I have no idea who’s on the other side of that toon. Not really.
What worried him wasn’t that he was debating whether this was some form of emotional cheating or a strategy to bring Astrid home. What worried him was that after having been alone and miserable for three weeks, with way too much work waiting for him at the office, there was nowhere in the world—real or in-game—he’d rather be than walking beside Mirror Lake with Yanker.
She was laughing. It was the second of the three preset female ord laughs, the one with the sigh at the end. “Can I just say how proud I am of you right now?” she said.
“Thanks? Are you, uh… into your cups tonight?”
“Fifth glass of Que Sera syrah. It tastes terrible, but it pairs really well with ‘I don’t give a fuck.’ Whee!”
“I’m amazed you can even walk straight.”
“I think I can handle pressing the one arrow key.” She failed to turn with the road and fell off the levy.
“You need a hand?”
“I’m good.” A trio of lowbies stopped fishing to applaud her swim back around to shore. “Anyway,” she picked up, “you’ve come a long way, and congrats. Oh, man—you didn’t ditch the Purple Ninja hood, did you?”
“No, I just disabled ‘show helm’ on the options menu. It was weird not being able to see my own head. And there’s tonight’s sentence I never thought I’d say.”
She laughed again. It was the first laugh, the one that ended with a tiny, higher register aftershock laugh. That was his favorite.
“That explains it. Sorry, what were we talking about?”
“You were complimenting me on my unlikely ascension.”
“Did I tell you how damn sexy you look in that armor?”
“Not really,” said Reid. This was veering toward the uncomfortable. Might as well jump in with both feet. “And please, if there’s a head-turner here, it’s you.”
“Aw,” said Yanker, kicking a stone into the water. “You’d be disappointed if you saw me in real life.”
“Are you kidding?” said Reid. What am I doing? “I’ll bet you’re just as cute in person.”
She didn’t say anything. They walked on in silence after the levy ended, past a menagerie of lowbies jumping, fishing, dancing, drowning.
The silence got uncomfortable. Reid felt a surge of panic. You’re tired, he reassured himself. She probably is, too. You’re misinterpreting things. She probably didn’t even see the comment, not with five glasses of wine in her. Just don’t do anything to make it worse.
“I’m Reid, by the way,” he said. “Reid Underwood. I figured, you know, we’ve been playing long enough now to actually—”
“Don’t,” she said. “I told you. No real names in here.”
“Well… why not?” He told himself to shut up, but that had stung. “What’s wrong with knowing who you’re playing with? We’re on the same team, here, but I don’t know anything about you.”
She stopped. “I don’t want real life in here. This isn’t the place for it. This is my escape. My out. You were the one bringing reality in, woe is me, have you seen my girlfriend, here’s her Social Security Number. Please, no more real life. It’s not what I’m here for.”
“Clearly.”
They sulked a while in silence.
“So you’re almost done, yeah?” blurted Yanker. “We find the sword, that’s it, you get your girl and you’re out?”
“That’s the plan. Didn’t realize how bad-fairy-tale it sounded until you said it just now.” Whatever. “I’m ready to get back to real life.”
“Not me,” said Yanker. “Glass number six.” She turned to look out over the lake.
There were two perfect moons that night: the real one that hung enormous in the sky, and the reflection where it touched the rim of the lake. Bullshit, thought Reid. Both moons are fake.
“I’d spend my whole life in here if I could,” Yanker said, still looking out over the water. “Plug me full of food lines, screw a VR helmet to my face, I don’t care.” She turned to Noob. “Come on, you can’t tell me you haven’t enjoyed all this.”
He didn’t want to admit how true that was—that sometimes the fun of the game had eclipsed the motivation of finding Astrid. “It has been fun at times.”
“At times? Why do you have such a chip on your shoulder about the game?”
“It’s that…” Don’t say it. Grandpa had warned him, Never criticize what they love. Too late, he was typing. “None of this is real! None of it. Those moons, that lake. Those merrows.”
A trio of ugly fish-frog monsters burbled out of the lake to attack a lowbie who’d been fishing in their aggro range.
“People are cashing in real life to be here. And for what?” Reid watched the words appear on the screen. “It’s not like you can really know anyone in here. Not really. You can pretend to be whatever the hell you want, and no one can check up or call you on it. It’s just a really well-rendered version of internet chat. It’s depressing.”
The lowbie died with a scream in the shallows. The merrows, still aggroed, ran up and started stabbing Noob. He was Level 100, so they only did a fraction of a percentage point of his total health in damage. He ignored them.
Yanker stood still for quite some time before answering. “I still prefer it here.”
“To what? I really want to know. Hell, if I knew, I’d know what I’m not giving Astrid. What can you possibly get in here that you don’t in real life?”
“You’re really gonna make me say it, aren’t you?”
Noob spread his arms. “Say what?”
“In here, I matter.” Yanker looked at the ground. Reid imagined pain in her eyes when she looked up at him and said, “Here, I have friends. I have something to offer! I’m good, really good. Head of a kickass guild I built from the ground up! I have a PVP rating in the tens of thousands. People see me here. I matter here. I get to have adventures and friends and make legends. Hell, I’m even pretty.”
“But it isn’t real,” said Reid in the real world. Noob echoed him as he typed the words in.
“It’s real enough,” said Yanker. “And I’d rather spend what time I’ve got on this mudball with people who play make-believe than a bunch of arseholes who don’t even care.”
“What about the game design thing?” Reid asked. “You can’t really do that in here.”
“I’m too drunk to pretend I ever even had a chance.”
“My God. That’s so sad.”
“Hey, piss off. Don’t you dare pity me. You don’t know a fucking thing about me!” She stormed off and sat down on the shore of the lake.
“You’re right,” Noob said. “I don’t. But… I’d like to. You’re one of the best people I’ve met.” He’d meant in the game when he typed it, but he didn’t correct himself. It was true in the broader sense as well. “You’re the only one who makes this whole thing bearable, this whole stupid Godsword quest. If you hadn’t stopped to help me that night—Bandaid would call it fate, but then again she’s crazy—I don’t know where I’d be. It certainly wouldn’t be here, on the verge of getting my life back. So, you know, I’d like to thank you.” Reid swallowed. “Not just Yanker. You.”
Yanker faded from sight, and was gone.
9
Graveyard of the Gods
TIP: A Boy Howdy employee will never ask for your password.
“How are you doing?” Lodge asked. “Or do I even want to know?”
Reid stretched, shook the cobwebs from his head. He looked around the conference room. “I went for a walk with Yanker last night.”
“Please tell me that’s not drug lingo.”
“The ord ranger girl.”
“This is your guild leader?”
“She is.”
“And you’re sure she’s a girl.”
“Sure I’m sure.” Reid frowned. “Why wouldn’t I be sure?”
“So you’ve heard her voice, then.”
Reid looked away. “Not exactly.” He tried to be subtle as he wiped his drool puddle off the table. “But I will! We’re running the grand epic dungeon tonight, and the guild set up a GroupSpeak line so we can communicate without stopping to type.”
“So you haven’t heard her voice.”
“I haven’t heard her speak, no. But if you mean have I heard her voice, as in do I have a sense of her opinions, turns of phrase, that sort of thing—then yes.”
“That is absolutely not what I meant.”
“We communicate very well,” sniffed Reid. “We’ve got a good rapport going, the kind that only comes with real respect and trust.”
“What’s her name?”
“She wouldn’t tell me.”
They heard Habermann coming before he sauntered into the room. By the time he entered, Lodge had dropped to the floor to fiddle with Reid’s ethernet connection.
“
Good news.” Habermann slapped a sweaty stack of folders on the table and indicated the wall of boxes blocking the conference room windows. “By tomorrow, all this will be gone.”
Reid brightened. Finally, a bit of luck. He quashed the urge to hug his boss. “Oh, thank you. I was so worried. Any help, even an intern, would be fantastic.” Reid stopped when he saw the flat line of Habermann’s mouth. “Nobody’s joining me?”
Habermann looked like he couldn’t tell if Reid were joking. “I’m sorry, but we really can’t spare anyone. But your project’s been fast tracked. I need this all done by tomorrow noon.”
Reid slumped and gaped like a marionette whose operator had just had a heart attack. Habermann mistook it for gratitude and slapped a meaty hand across Reid’s back. “Congratulations, Reid! This is the kind of dedication the Board looks for in our young employees. If you wind up spending the night, don’t leave the building after 9:00pm or you’ll trigger the alarm.” He trundled back to his office.
“I could set fire to the building,” offered Lodge. “You could escape in the chaos.”
Reid shook his head. If the building burned down, he’d be stuck answering questions all night instead of playing.
Once Lodge had left, Reid fell into an easy rhythm. The work was repetitive, but just engaging enough to keep him awake.
He found himself humming as he whirred along, making corrections and signing off on resolved issues. Most of the multi-file boxes turned out to have a summary at the head of each file, and Reid discovered all he had to do was look these over for discrepancies. If the numbers didn’t add up, only then did he have to dive into the file and root out the inconsistency. It was the kind of work he could do half-asleep, without conscious thought. He was making great time.
Reid was distantly aware that he’d slipped into a state of no mind, that elusive Zen condition of pure, unconscious reaction. His grandmother would have been pleased. She’d given him koans to help him untangle his larger homework projects—nonsense thought puzzles you could only solve if you let them knock you out of rational, linear thought, and when you did solve them, the obviousness of the solution punched you right in the face and left you laughing at how much you overthought.