Not bright, indeed.
I searched some more but found nothing. The maple HP was getting lower. Soon they would anticipate the fall and get out of the way, right? My window of opportunity was closing. I scrambled back to the trunk and grabbed at it, feeling some loose bark come off in my hand. It was heavy with moisture, sticking together in fibrous clumps. Well, that might do the trick. I peeled and peeled, packing a few layers of the stuff together in my hands, compacting it, wadding it together into some sort of weird vegetative missile. I laughed silently at myself in frustration. The odds of this doing anything were… well, low. Whatever. If it gave me enough of a distraction to slip away, then it was something.
I scanned the maple one more time. 10% HP. This was it, I realized, swallowing against a lump in my digital throat.
It’s go time.
The moon cooperated and broke though once more, and between that and my new level in Night Vision, I could make out my target pretty well: a little bit of bare trunk on the maple, just above were the thieves were hacking. There were five of them now, surrounding the trunk. If that thing went down without them moving, it had to take at least one of them with it. I set my wad of bark in the cradle of my slingshot, aimed, let out my breath, pulled back the cradle, and let it fly.
It shattered against the maple with a dull, wet thud. Not nearly enough to matter on its own, but the thieves had brought the tree HP down just low enough that my shot dipped it below zero before they anticipated.
Yes.
Three of them kept swinging even as it fell, oblivious. Two scattered into the underbrush, and I lost track of them. I hoped they’d gone for good. Two of the others somehow managed to still be standing in the way when the thing finally slammed into the forest floor. I zoomed in on their icons and opened the boxes. Both died instantly.
Congratulations! You have defeated 2 enemies!
+1 Strength
+2 XP
+2 Copper (to be collected)
The old gamer in me shrugged at the measly XP, but I couldn’t really complain. I’d made lemons out of an impossible start. I closed the window, only for it to be followed by another:
Passive Skill Unlocked: Outside the Box
As a Night Elf, you are already used to going against the tide. Now you have begun to learn to extemporize and improvise battle tactics and stratagem. It will take a long time for you to be a true master at unconventional warfare, but everyone starts somewhere. Outside the Box is a passive skill that can only be leveled with use. It is a sister skill to Strategy and Battle Planning, both of which can be leveled with attribution points.
Skill: Outside the Box
Type: Passive
Sister Skill: Strategy, Battle Planning
Level: 1 (scalable)
Effect: 5% increase in likelihood for plans to succeed
Now that was more interesting. An increase in likelihood for plans to succeed? Was that like luck? I filed that away, making a mental note to loot the bodies for the copper pieces, too. Meanwhile, the third thief was still standing at the foot of the tree, looking puzzled. I read his details:
NPC
Race: Dwarf
Class: Rogue
Occupation: Criminal
HP: 75/75
Armed: Mike’s Machete
There was more to read, but I swiped it away, focusing on the Machete. It read:
Weapon: Mike’s Machete
Class: First Tier
Range: Close Proximity
Attacks: Slap, Slash, Stab
Damage: 2HP; 5HP with Power-up
I scratched the back of my neck. It was still small beans all in all, but that was a hell of a power-up, percentage-wise. And even without that, it looked a lot better than my measly Slingshot with no ammo. If he ran away and I got down there before someone else could come along, I’d gladly arm myself with the Machetes left behind.
I scraped together another bunch of muddy bark and shot this one as far off as I could, sending the thief scrambling through the trees after it. Then I shimmied down, trying to make as little noise as possible. There might still be a couple of them lurking, after all. The bark scratched my hands and face, and I marveled again. This was just a game, right?
The bodies of the two thieves lay still in the undergrowth, partially covered by the tree. An image of ruby-red slippers flashed through my mind and I half-smiled. So far I’d made about as inconspicuous an entrance to Hero Online as Dorothy to Oz. I found the Machetes and saw a dialogue box flash their stats at me as I grasped their handles. Their damage and power-up bonus remained, though the game would only let me arm one at a time. I assumed that dual-blade wielding was a skill I could pick up down the road if I wanted, but for now I armed one and buried the other in my inventory. You never know when a spare machete could come in handy, I thought. I found the +2 copper the thieves had dropped and stowed that away, too.
All things considered, it hadn’t been a bad first five minutes. Now I had better weapons, the strength to use them, a little XP, and a tiny bit of money. I pulled up the map again to see if there was any indication of a town or settlement nearby, but still nothing. My little island in the black had grown marginally bigger with my leap from tree to tree. That was it.
But around me, something else had changed. The owls were hooting again. I took it as a good sign that the thieves had left, I picked a direction (the opposite from where the last thief had run), and I started walking.
On my way I glanced at my own stats to see how the upgrades had affected things.
Character Name: Gideon
Player
Level: 1
Race: Night Elf
Class: Civilian
Occupation: Scavenger
Agility: 10/10
HP: 100/100
Mana: 5/5
Spirit: 10/10
Stamina: 5/5
Strength: 6/6
Armed: Mike’s Machete
Equipped: Forest Slingshot
Skills and Attributes
Fleet of Foot (passive): Level 1
Night Vision (passive): Level 2
Outside the Box (passive): Level 1
I quirked my lips, supposing I was at least living up to my current occupation. But that was supposed to change once I’d accepted a quest that involved more than picking up loot—so Sophia had explained to me after I’d picked my race. And my class would change, too, upon the completion of quests, but most characters began as civs. You would branch out from there—merchant, artisan, warrior, mage, and the rest of the usual suspects—but anything would have a long apprenticeship of quests. I sighed. Right now my quest appeared to be finding my way out of this ridiculous spawn-point.
I was glad I’d chosen Night Elf; my racial bonus of 10 agility points had already saved my neck. Sophia had also said that beginning points for all races baselined at 5, and different races began with 10 in a given attribute or two as a bonus—10 strength for orcs, for instance. After demo-ing merman, I learned I could also have started as a High Elf, Woodland Elf, Night Elf, Human, Dwarf, Orc, or Mongrel—those last began as animals, usually dogs, and gradually gained the ability to shift into wild humans as they accrued magic with leveling. Night Elves began non-hostile to Orcs and some Dwarves and Humans, the traditionally “dark” alignment, but Mongrels weren’t just dark; they were aligned to pure, unadulterated chaos, and were hostile to everyone. They were the nastiest, it seemed, and I made a note to keep an eye out and stay as far away from them as possible. I had no desire to get ripped to shreds by a bunch of magic-hungry dogs my first night in the game, especially with my pain setting on the fritz.
Magic was what I was after, I had decided. The best ways to get it were to start as an Elf, a Human, or a Mongrel. Humans and Mongrels were right out, one from boredom of the known and the other from horror of the unknown, and in the end I had made my decision to embrace the Night based on the practical acquisition of magical power. All Elves got a racial bones of 10 Spirit to begin with. High El
ven magic had to do largely with the four elements; Woodland Elven magic, with nature; but Night Elven magic was much more about the raw, untamed power of mana. The other magical choice… mongrels’ magic was much more about blood and guts. I could pass on that. But I didn’t see myself traipsing around the virtual forest collecting rare herbs for their magical properties, either. Mana-based magic seemed like a good compromise.
And after finding and partying up with Angie? I wanted to fight.
Failing magic, hand combat was my backup plan. There was always a need for warriors, right? And Sophia had hinted that you could level up from warrior into significantly more and more interesting specializations, like mercs and assassins, in addition to going the strict military route and gaining rank. Humans were a little better suited to the latter, but Night Elves especially excelled in the former. So I figured I’d made a pragmatic choice that gave me options.
So far, no magic. Just two Machetes and a forest. Hmm.
Up ahead it seemed that a warm, amber light glowed through the trees. I slowed and lowered to a crouch, parting the ferns and peering out from the edge of the wood into a clearing. A big bonfire raged in the middle, and figures danced and leapt around it, throwing long shadows into the night.
Squinting, I watched as one of them crouched low and pushed off from the ground, jumping as high as I imagined a person could. He seemed to twist mid-leap, and change. When he hit the ground again he wasn’t a man at all; he was a shaggy, snarling wolf.
Mongrels, I realized, shrinking back. Was I downwind? I hoped they couldn’t scent me. I pressed myself flat to the ground, belly down, breathing in the cool scent of earth. The now familiar translucent blue box appeared, notifying me that I had just acquired a new passive skill, Stealth, level 1. I’d take it.
“Only seven of them,” a silky voice said from behind me. Silky and dangerous. I pulled back from the edge of the trees, rolling to look behind me.
“Who’s there?” I whispered, brandishing my Machete from the ground.
“Put that thing away. You’ll only hurt yourself.”
My eyes readjusted to the shadows and I thought I could make out a figure of darkness against the wood. They were tall—taller than I—and imposing. I did not put the Machete away, but came slowly to my knees, planting one foot on the ground and keeping my blade trained on the shadow. Then they stepped out and into the dim light cast by the fire.
Her hair fell from her head in thick, matted rolls, swooping over her pale shoulders. Her face was stern and pitiless, her arms folded across her chest. I gulped.
“What do you want?” I asked.
The corner of her mouth twitched up in response. She didn’t move.
“I’m leaving,” I said. “I don’t want any trouble. But, ah, can you tell me—where can I find a town?”
The mouth twitched again, perhaps this time in annoyance. “You’re not going anywhere just yet. You’re bait, you see.”
I tried to swallow again but my mouth had gone dry. “Sorry?” I croaked.
She moved so quickly my vision actually blurred. Lag, I wondered? Her hand shot out and a thick, rough rope wrapped itself around my torso, pinning my arms to my sides. I’d been lassoed.
Belatedly, I read her details—what I could see, anyway.
Player
Level: 17
Race: Woodland Elf
Class: Rogue
Occupation: Bounty Hunter
HP: 1200/1200
Armed: ???
“Level 17??” I blurted.
She smiled. “Guilty as charged. And on a quest. Thanks for the help.”
“Help? But there’s no bounty on me!”
“No, there’s not.” She gazed past me toward the fire where the mongrels still danced, unaware of our presence behind the tree line. “But there is on mongrels. And they love fresh meat.”
CHAPTER 3:
TACO TUESDAY
_________________
January 15, 2048
Janus Industries
Memo to Rod Ignes, Asst. Tech. Director
RE: Work Order for Additional Servers
Rod,
I bet you stopped breathing for a moment when you saw the attached work order. 24 nano-servers on ice—you read it right. And yes, I know that single order nearly doubles the budget. Let me explain.
In the two weeks since AI 001 began running, things have gotten weird. At first we thought we were just observing a series of glitches. Everything would be running fine, and then diagnostics would report a sudden exponential spike in energy usage. This happened five or six times before project managers realized the spikes were occurring in temporally fractal patterns mirroring intial design schemes for the Warehouse. In laymen’s terms, the spikes happened whenever you would expect a new area to be designed, then again at two higher powers to the seventh magnitude.
If that is still obtuse (which it was to me until the brainiacs in the basement hashed it out for me in plain English), here’s what we think it means. AI 001 is doing its job and rendering the Warehouse to our specifications, yes, but it’s also rendering something else on top of it, something seven times bigger (or at least requiring seven times the computing power), and then a third something seven more times bigger than the second thing. Anything more specific than that gets speculative at this point, but our best guesses are either that the AI is rendering the Warehouse in mind-numbingly vivid realism of a much higher level than suggested, or that three distinct Warehouses are in fact being rendered, each one either substantially larger or substantially more detailed than the last.
Needless to say, the AI’s proclivity to spend resources is stretching the department thin. But also troubling is the fact that all attempts so far to investigate the cause for the energy spikes have been stymied by the AI itself. We’ve brought on a couple of theoretical consultants whose pet project is human-AI interaction, in order to develop an easier way to interface with AI 001 and find out what the hell is going on. But to build their interface we need some serious tech upgrades. Hence, the 24 nanoservers.
You know I wouldn’t make such a big ask if it weren’t crucial to the project, not with the Board eagerly waiting in the wings to whip the carpet out from under us and cut the division. The only thing that will stop them from red-lining us all is results, and the only way we’re going to get those is by talking to AI 001. Something is going on in the Warehouse, and we won’t find out without these servers.
So there it is, my desperate plea. Take it for what it is. Beers on me for a year if you can push this through, Rod. Let me know.
Aaron Sarten, Project 309 Leader
Section 309
Janus Industries
___
I was screwed.
Royally.
I held up my arms in protest, disarming the Machete to show I wasn’t a threat. It remained in my inventory, in the second slot, but no longer appeared in my hand at the ready. “Now hang on! Let’s figure this out. Two is better than one! I’m sure there’s a way to get what you want here without resorting to… bait.”
The she-elf was behind me before I could blink, and brought my arms down with more force than I could possibly resist. In another instant they were bound behind my back.
“Are you serious?” I groaned. My shoulder joints protested at the rough treatment, flaring with pain, and a message splashed up in an angry red translucent box.
Damage Taken
-2HP
Debuff Added
You have been bound.
Effect: arm movement restricted by 75%. Agility inhibited by 25%.
Duration: 10 hours, or until bonds removed.
Brilliant, I thought. I wriggled against the bonds, but that only aggravated the discomfort. Ten hours?
“I wouldn’t struggle,” she said as she crossed back in front of me, taking a few steps and kneeling to watch the mongrels. “Only lose more HP. Sit tight, cupcake.”
Yeah. Fat chance.
“What are you, one o
f those player-vs.-player hackers?” I kept struggling, hoping to distract her with talk. Instead, my words caused her to whip around and fix me with an intense stare.
“What did you say to me?”
“Uh… I mean, c’mon… you’ve got me tied up here. This is some legit PvP, don’t you think?”
She stalked the few remaining steps toward me and planted a foot on my chest, pressing me down hard on the ground. I groaned and watched another 2HP tick off the meter. “Don’t you ever, ever call me that.”
“Call you what?”
“A PvP. That is not what this is.”
“But you’ve got your foot on my—”
“Trust me.” She leaned over me, pinning me to the ground with her eyes. Something in them made me shut up and listen. “You will know when you’ve met one of those people. It won’t go like this.” She shook her head. “Now shut up, stop struggling, play along, and this will be over quickly. I won’t let you get hurt. Hell, maybe I’ll even give you something for your time.”
“For my time? For being live mongrel-bait?” I huffed. “Yeah, right.” I gathered my minuscule resources. The moment she turned, I was going to give her a run for her money. But her eyes never left mine.
“Nope,” she said after a moment. “You’re not going to play along. Sorry.”
Quest for Vengeance Page 3