DLC: A LitRPG Adventure (Beta Tester Book 4)

by Rachel Ford

  Jack nodded. That was good thinking, and even though he did cringe at the idea of playing Klaus’s Christmas godfather, like something straight out of a holiday version of Cinderella, he did want to get the best dragon in the game. So he passed a quick glance over the assembled monstrosities.

  They were all flashy and overbearing: the sort of thing Jack would have died before donning. One boasted a candy cane patterned jacket over red trousers and a green waistcoat. Another sported buttons that looked like little Christmas lights. Jack had a disturbing feeling that they probably lit up. He didn’t check, though. He didn’t want to know.

  One by one, he went through the suits, the plain and the busy, the new and the old. Finally, he settled on a blue ensemble. It was very blue, and all in the same rich, navy hue: trousers, jacket, waistcoat and shirt alike. It was ridiculous, in point of fact. But it was the least ridiculous thing in the entire ridiculous lineup.

  So he raised the icicle wand and touched the point of it to Klaus’s blue suit. Then, he jumped back in surprise. A whirlwind of snow sprang up in the room, enveloping the garment. For half a second, Jack thought he’d done something wrong. Then, the snow settled, or mostly settled. The suit looked like it had a fresh dusting of snow. But odder yet, snowflakes continued to shimmer and fall on it. They didn’t accumulate, and when Jack reached out a hand to them, they were completely immaterial. But the suit shimmered with the look of a fresh, frosty snowfall.

  Jack shook his head. “You know what Karag?”

  “What’s that, Jack?”

  “I need to ask Jordan what they were smoking when they built this place.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  This time, Jack didn’t fall for Gryla’s act.

  Nor did he interfere with Karag’s request to disarm Eben. He held his breath and watched as the giant crept through the dimness of the bunker, toward the miserable old skinflint. Then, as deftly as a magician, he slipped the blunderbuss off its shoulder strap and tiptoed back. Jack tied a knot in the end of the sock this time, and they got away without so much as a peep from the old man – much less a backside full of shot.

  Indeed, all the residences they’d visited on their previous play through went off without a hitch. Jack kept the wand of good tidings on his person, and whenever Karag dropped a hint about helping out, he put it to work.

  So they discovered that Tiny Tim Cratchit had outgrown his favorite crutch and was using a drab wooden hand-me-down instead of the festive, peppermint stick themed device Father Winter had brought the previous year. A touch of the wand turned it into a red and white striped crutch, bright and festive and awful in all the ways the boy liked.

  They also learned that Claus – the armorer – had gotten himself in trouble by eating the box of truffles he’d bought as a gift for his wife. He had meant to replace them, and then clean forgot until that very night. The candy store had already closed, and so the man fretted to his diary, “I’ve had her one of them every year since we first courted. I haven’t told her yet. I’m certain she’ll be so disappointed.” Of course, a wave of the wand fixed Claus’s problem too.

  And on it went, with Jack and Karag finding a good dozen residents who needed a little bit of extra help. They raced through the deliveries, zipping from house to house. With Jack working instead of eating cookies, the deliveries went by a lot quicker.

  The only real hiccup they had was when they reached the abominable snowman’s lair. Karag declared, “In a sane world, we would slay the beast.”

  Jack nodded, remembering his deadly flight from the last trip. “Still, we have to do it.”

  They stood there for a long minute, staring into the darkness. Neither man seemed willing to be the one to move first.

  Then a voice said, “Hello there! Welcome to my cave.”

  Karag glanced all around, looking, no doubt, for a huge and monstrous yeti. Jack knew better. His eyes roved the ground. And sure enough, there was the little hairball scuttling across the snow toward them. “Hi,” he said, mustering as much enthusiasm as he could while he planned his exit strategy.

  “You must be carolers,” the little creature said.

  “We’re not,” Karag answered.

  “We’re standing in for Father Winter, actually. We have gifts for you.”

  To his surprise, the little monster seemed crestfallen. “Oh.” Then, though, it forced a cheerier tone. “Forgive me. I do so love the carols, you know. But I do not mean to be ungrateful: come, gentlemen. I have cookies and hot chocolate for you. And you must tell Father Winter I send my warmest felicitations.”

  “That’s going to be hard to do,” Jack said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Winter’s dead. Krampus killed him.” He started to explain that he was working for Estelle, but he didn’t get that far.

  The abominable snowman loosed a pitiful sound, something like a cry. “Oh dear. Such a tragedy. He was my good friend – my only friend – for so many years. Oh, what evil tidings.”

  “Uh…sorry about that.”

  The abominable snowman glanced up at him, his eyes gleaming from within the puff of fur that comprised the rest of his body. “Forgive me. I did not mean to lay my sorrows on you. Come inside, please, and have something to eat and drink. And tell me who you are, and how is it that you come to be doing Father Winter’s work?”

  Without much pleasure, the two men followed the little creature. Jack offered a brief history of their time on the island – leaving out his reloads and replays, of course. And the abominable snowman made them hot chocolate, and fed them cookies, and generally seemed very sad and miserable.

  “My poor friend. I shall miss him dreadfully. What a lonely winter it shall be, now that he is gone.”

  “Estelle will take his place,” Jack said. “Once Mrs. Winter is on her feet.”

  “I hope you are right. I do not know what I shall do, if I have no one to visit even once a year. I do so look forward to these visits, almost as much as I look forward to the carolers. Alas, they do not remember me up here.”

  Karag ate his cookie in thoughtful silence. Jack wondered how he might tactfully extricate himself from the situation. He’d already given the tribble-like creature his gifts, though they’d done little to cheer him.

  But the abominable snowman spoke first. “We must avenge him. That’s what we must do. For too long, Krampus has plagued this town and this island. We must all rally together and defeat him.

  “I know, strictly speaking, revenge isn’t really appropriate for the season, especially when it involves killing and all that. But I can tell you, for my own part anyway, nothing would bring me more good cheer than ridding this island of that menace once and for all.”

  Karag nodded. “I’m with you there, little man. Not that I’ve any stake in this business, of course. But the way I see it, if you’re going to live in a place, you can’t have a murderous demon in your backyard.”

  “Exactly so.”

  Jack thought it best to interject here. “Yes, well, that will be a problem for you to work out with Estelle, I’m sure. We’re just here to deliver the gifts. Oh, and speaking of, we probably should get on with our work.”

  The abominable snowman apologized for keeping them so long from their duties. “I do hope I didn’t prattle on too much. I have a tendency to do that.”

  “Not at all. Thank you for the cocoa,” the giant said.

  Then, they took their leave. Karag waited until they were outside the cave to say, “I changed my mind about him. He’s alright.”

  Jack snorted. “That’s just because he wants to kill things.”

  “No. It’s because he has the good sense to know how to deal with an enemy. If Cristobal or Winter had been half as clever, we wouldn’t be in this mess now.”

  Jack couldn’t argue with that. It didn’t make sense that they’d let killers like Eben and Gryla live in their town, much less letting a literal demon like Krampus take up residence in the neighborhood. Then again, he didn�
�t want to get any more involved than he already was. So he grunted out a tepid agreement.

  “You know what I’ll bet would cheer that little fellow up?”

  “Nope. Nor am I particularly interested.”

  “Carolers.”

  “Yeah, well, if you think I’m singing to a tribble, you have another thing coming. I don’t care if I do lose the dragon. That’s a step too far. And I’ll tell Jordan so myself.”

  “I meant the wand,” Karag said. “You could conjure up a band of carolers. But this is not the first you’ve mentioned this Jordan, not even tonight.

  “Who is she?”

  Sugar, Jack thought. He hadn’t meant to be so careless. He knew that mixing real life and the videogame could cause him problems as his companions tried to figure out allusions that would – could – make no sense to them. He decided he would have to be more careful moving forward.

  But in the meantime, to forestall any further inquiries, he said, “Good thinking.” Then he brought out the wand and waved it over the snow in front of the cave entrance.

  Little vortexes of snowflakes rose, swirling about this way and that. Figures began to take shape, and in a minute, a good dozen snowmen sprang to life. They looked like the real thing – not the tribble-like creature inside the cave. They had carrot noses, and eyes made of coal. They wore scarves and hats and had sticks for arms. But they moved and sang.

  Jack shivered at the sight of them. They had nice voices. There was no problem with that. But they were a curious, uncanny amalgamation of inanimate object and animate being.

  The abominable snowman had no such qualms, though. He came out squealing with delight. “Oh, you brought carolers. How terribly thoughtful you both are.”

  Karag was already in the sleigh, waiting for Jack. He called, “Merry Christmas!”

  Jack climbed inside while the giant waved. The abominable snowman, meanwhile, was listening with rapt attention to the carolers, who were in the middle of a very good rendition of Jingle Bells.

  The game, meanwhile, alerted him that his optional objective of using the wand of good tidings to help the locals had been completed.

  Jack shook his head. “Let’s get out of here, Karag.”

  They did, leaving a teary-eyed abominable snowman and a chorus of enchanted beings behind.

  They flew through the night, with the lights of Pleasant Vale fading and finally disappearing behind them. Then, as before, the runway came into view with Estelle waiting at the end of it. Jack got out beaming, but this time she didn’t ask how it had gone. Instead, she beamed back at him. “I can sense the joy you’ve brought the Vale from here, Jack. You have done well – extremely well. Father would be so pleased to know his legacy was in such very good hands.”

  He preened at that and waited patiently as she called Elfkin. The little dwarf appeared a minute later, leading a dragon out for him. But this was an altogether different dragon than poor little Sol had been.

  This dragon’s scales seemed to blaze with a shimmering fire. A keen intelligence burned in its golden eyes, and the little beast carried itself with an endearing kind of pride. It stood about as tall as a big dog, but Jack figured it would wind up much bigger once it was grown.

  “This is Blaze,” Estelle told him. “He’s a newly hatched fire dragon – one of the prides of my father’s dragon stables.”

  Jack didn’t bother asking what Santa Claus – or, Father Winter, as they knew him –needed with dragons. He just grinned and took its leash. “Sweet.”

  “One word of caution,” Elfkin said. “He does like to roast things. He’s very smart – he won’t go after you or your friends. But, if you find yourself in a fight, he may get involved. On your behalf, of course.”

  Jack’s grin broadened. “Now we’re talking. Wait until Jordan sees this.”

  “Jordan?” Karag repeated, frowning.

  “Never mind. Speak to supervisor.”

  As before, Migli came running out of the shadows. And as before – to Jack’s disappointment – he spoke and moved with Richard’s vocal patterns and mannerisms. “Yo, Jack, what’s – ahhh, now that’s a dragon.”

  Jack hadn’t stopped grinning since he’d seen Blaze, but now his smile broadened. “Isn’t he? I gotta give it to Jordan, she did a good job with this one.”

  Richard glanced up from admiring the dragon. “Oh, this isn’t hers.”

  Jack’s smile disappeared. “But, you said she designed the top tier pet.”

  “Yeah: for players who deliver everything and complete all the optional objectives.”

  “I did,” he protested.

  Richard shook his head though. “Nuh uh. Bet you anything you didn’t.”

  Jack’s neutral expression turned into a frown. “I did. I helped everyone who needed it. You can check the objective log.”

  Richard shrugged. “Yeah, but you didn’t get the hidden objective.”

  “The...what?

  “If you collect cookies from all the homes – the nice people’s homes, I mean – you get a bonus objective.”

  “You’re joking...”

  But Richard was not joking. “I don’t remember why exactly...but Estelle wants them. One cookie from each home.”

  Jack scowled. He remembered, on his original play through on Team Santa, how the game had mysteriously added cookies to his inventory. “Mother trucker. You mean...I need to load again?”

  The other man shrugged. “I mean, if you want the ultimate dragon, yeah.”

  His disinterest did nothing to improve Jack’s mood. “You’ve got to be kidding me. I spent all that time playing Cinderella’s freaking fairy godfather for no good reason?”

  Again, Richard shrugged. “I guess.”

  “This is bull turds,” he said, which provoked a laugh from the other man. “I’m not going to do it.”

  “Then don’t. No one’s got a gun to your head, dude.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  All of which was true enough, of course. And yet, after grilling Richard about what, exactly, he had to do to get the ultimate dragon, Jack reloaded the game.

  And he and Karag were right back on Cristobal’s roof again. “Come on,” he told the giant. “I want to get that dragon. And I have to do it before Jordan gets back.”

  They raced through the same steps as last time. Jack delivered the gifts, and filled the stockings, and used the wand of good tidings as needed. But unlike last time, he paid attention to the plates of cookies that had been left out for him. He could grab exactly one and toss it into his inventory from each home; which is what he did.

  He rushed through the homes of the nice residents and the naughty alike. He let Karag disarm the villains, and he allowed himself to eat a cookie or two here and there.

  Finally, they wrapped up their deliveries at the abominable snowman’s cave. And as soon as Jack stuffed one of the little monster’s treats into his pack, the game alerted him:

  Bonus objective complete: collect cookies from all the nice residents of Pleasant Vale

  Objective added: give the cookies to Estelle

  So, smiling to himself, Jack took his leave. He departed so quickly, in point of fact, that he almost forgot to conjure up the carolers. Karag’s pointed reminders stopped him before the blunder, though. And with a rush of satisfaction, Jack saw his final objective completed.

  The flight back seemed to take forever. But finally, the North Pole, and the ice castle and the runway came into view. Estelle was waiting for him, but she wasn’t alone this time. Now, Elfkin and Miss Mint joined her, and so did all of Jack’s companions. “It would seem,” Karag said, “that they’ve turned out the welcome committee.”

  Jack nodded, hoping that Richard hadn’t missed or withheld anything. He’d played the same boring sequence three-too-many times in his opinion.

  They landed the sleigh beside the group, and Jack got out first. Estelle hugged him. “My dear Jack, you have no idea how much your good work means to us all. Even deep in the mountains
as we are, the joy of the Vale reaches us. And I feel as though Father is smiling, knowing that his life’s work has been carried on in such a remarkable fashion. Not even he could have done a better job than what you have done.”

  Here, for the first time, the game had predetermined responses for Jack to pick from:

  It was my pleasure and honor to carry on in the footsteps of the great Father Winter. And I have brought something back from my travels: a token of appreciation from every home in the Vale. [Give Estelle the cookies]

  Of course he couldn’t have done a better job. I was the best darned Winter these people have had in years. Oh, but I did bring something back for you. [Give Estelle the cookies]

  Look, let’s skip the pleasantries, okay? I did what you asked. Now feed me. [Keep the cookies]

  Jack chose the first option, and Estelle’s eyes watered as she took them. “Oh my word. How did you know? Father used to do the same thing every year. We hang them on the tree in the great dining hall, you see.”

  The game alerted Jack that he’d completed the objective. Estelle, meanwhile, handed the cookies to Miss Mint. “Will you bring these inside?” The elf woman nodded and headed for the ice castle. She turned back to Jack. “You have no idea how much joy you will have brought my mother, carrying on Father’s tradition like that.

  “But, we have something for you too, Jack: a thank you, for all you have done for Father, and the people of the Vale.” Here, she nodded to Elfkin, and the second elf disappeared into the night.

  He came back a minute later, not leading a dragon but carrying a bundle. Jack blinked. For half a second, he thought Richard must have pranked him. He was just determining to throttle the other man if he ever got out of the machine when Estelle spoke again. “We had hoped it would have hatched before you got back. But it’s due to hatch at any moment.”

  Now, Elfkin drew back the swaddling cloth that ensconced the bundle, revealing a huge, pale blue egg.

  “An…egg?” Jack repeated skeptically.

  “When you wish to hatch it, you need only set it in a snowbank. It’s an ice dragon, you see, and will respond to the cold.”