《Jack-of-All-Mages》
Prologue: In Medias Res
There I was, racing up the road that led to the Stonehenge Memorial in Maryhill, Washington. The asphalt was covered in melting snow and lashed by rain, making the footing treacherous at best. I slipped and slid as I made my way upward toward the near-perfect replica of what the Salisbury Stonehenge would have looked like in its heyday. Sam Hill¡¯s version was a memorial dedicated to the loss of life in World War I. Today it was a Place of Power in its own right and if I didn¡¯t make it in time, quite possibly the end of the world.
My foot shot out from underneath me and my right knee smashed through the snow and against the frozen surface of the road. Pain shot through me and I caught myself with two bare hands, and freezing rain made its way down the neck of my enchanted leather motorcycle jacket. I shivered.
Status update: Chilled: Due to the inclement weather and your poor clothing choices, you are chilled. 10% movement speed reduction.
Excuse me for not putting on snow pants before rushing out to save the world from a madman. What kind of asshole decides to summon a Cthulean crystal god of knowledge in the middle of the Columbia gorge in winter? The kind of asshole who is a fucking douchebag, that¡¯s who. It was not the first time the thought had crossed my mind.
I clawed my way to my feet and trudged on toward the peak of the hill. Half of the way up magic joined the forces impeding my progress. The mystical energy was palpable and thickened the air. Waves of it surged against me, and I could feel each one in my chest like the bass of a hip hop song. The smell of ozone burned in my nostrils, at odds with the fact that my nose was so cold I could barely feel it. Clearly the ritual I was on my way to stop was close to its peak. I could the light from it and the silhouettes of the monument in the distance, but I still had half a mile to go. The jackass I was hunting had set up an EMP ward about a mile from the henge and in my hurry I had driven over it. I was pissed, and not just about the weather. It my own fault that I was here.
¡°I have a quest for Jack,¡± my mentor informed me. The Archmage had his back to me, but that hardly mattered. The Archmage¡¯s robes and hood occluded the man¡¯s face and form, so no one knew his true identity. He was just ¡®The Archmage¡¯ and leader of the Cult of Knowledge, an underground resistance movement based in Portland, one of the the few Sanctuary Cities in the United States of America where the use of magic was legally protected. Jack should have trusted his instinct that anyone who openly referred to themselves as a cult was up to no good.
¡°What can I do for you?¡± I had asked, eager for any opportunity to gain experience and practice magic.
That quest, one of several, had provided all the tools the Archmage needed for the ritual that I was now on a quest to stop. In the rain. Calf-deep in soggy snow.
Two figures lumbered out of the darkness up ahead and into my line of sight. With a gesture of my left hand and a word, names appeared over their heads. Kithazic Treant LVL 21. As they grew closer, I could see that the creatures were about 7 feet tall and looked like bipedal treants with crystal instead of bark. I was only level 20, but skill and intellect provided a lot of advantages in this world, and I had both. And magic to boot. I was momentarily grateful that I wasn¡¯t a pure lightning mage, since treants made of rock were probably immune.
I focused my will as the two monsters moved into range and whispered, ¡°Gravity Well.¡± Loose snow, water, rain drops, and the creatures I faced were all drawn into the center of the spell as it briefly warped the laws of physics in the area. The treants¡¯ movement slowed to 80% of their original long legged gait. They pressed forward as if moving through invisible molasses while I released my next spell. A high pressure mass of air formed in front my right palm and shot forward. Snow fell in its wake and as it reached my opponents it exploded in a 360 degree swirl of freezing wind. The mass of precipitation gathered by the gravity spell froze around their feet and further hindered their movement. Rime frosted over the surface of their crystalline bodies.
A smirk crossed my face as I prepared what I hoped would be the last spell I needed. Not that I lacked for options if not. A small ball of flame formed between my hands. ¡°Hadoken!¡± I shouted as I launched it by pressing both wrists together and expanding my fingers away from each other. A classic fireball shot out and exploded against one of the treants. Fire billowed out from the epicenter and engulfed both enemies. Steam rose into the night. A spot appeared in my vision and I blinked repeatedly to get rid of it. A series of terrible cracking sounds tore through the air as the treant my spell had struck shattered from the too quick transition from cold to hot. Fissures laced the body and limbs of the second. The crystal being paused for a moment, then glowed with an inner light. Some of the larger cracks in its skin sealed before it continued its approach. The slow from my first spell had mostly worn off and it was back to its innate speed.
I quickly summoned a swirling shield of rusty and bloodstained iron spikes just in time for a tree branch sized crystal limb club me in the gut. The ground flew by beneath me as I went soaring into a snowbank. The one inch by two inch screen embedded in his wrist flashed yellow as I landed, but a second shattering sound from my enemy accompanied it. I scrambled to my feet to the creature reduced to a pile of broken crystal. I smiled. Shield of the Iron Maiden was to date my favorite of my original six spells. It only protected me from 10 percent of my maximum health in damage, but returned 200% of whatever damage the attacker dealt. In several cases it had been the difference between victory and death. This was not one of those cases, but it had certainly put an end to combat faster.Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.
I quickly cast Axoltl¡¯s Regeneration and watched my life steadily climb back toward full. Healing was itchy and uncomfortable at beast, and with my spell mimicking the properties of the fastest healing creature in the natural world, it left me feeling like I had just walked naked through a patch of nettles. If it hadn¡¯t been for my abnormally high willpower, I probably would have been useless until the spell ended.
The remaining Kithazic Treant staggered toward me, its broken crystal jagged and rough. It looked close to death, but if any of those edges came in contact with my skin, they were going to rip me to shreds. With the appropriate gesture and a word, another Gravity Well drew the creature backward and its already hampered movement slowed to a crawl. A slightly manic grin spread across my face as I dipped into my repertoire for a spell I had mixed feelings about using. I reached my hand out toward the monster as if grabbing hold of something in clawlike fingers and pulled. An unearthly green line shot out from my palm and tethered me to the treant. The life force rippled out from the core of the being and down the green line of energy, draining into me and healing me to full. Unlike the natural healing of my regeneration spell, this one felt. . . good, but in a predatory and addictive way. I wasn¡¯t one to avoid using the tools in my toolbox, but I was wary of overusing this particular one. The crystal on the creature¡¯s body clouded as it became brittle, and before the treant could make it all the way to me, it crumbled into a pile of sharp crystal shards.
With combat over, the screen in my left wrist glowed gently twice. I picked myself up from the ground and brushed snow from my clothes with a shiver. It was time to move forward. After looting, of course. I checked the two bodies, or rather, the two piles of quartz. I pocketed two Crystal Cores and a Knowledge Shard and trudged onward.
Several Kithazic Treants and one Kithazic Elder Treant mini-boss later, I stood with my back against one of the standing stones outside the circle of the henge. All the hair on my arms stood on end from the proximity to magic so potent that this close to the epicenter the rain no longer beat down on me. The magic of this particular ritual was violet and the whole area was cast in a purple glow. As I leaned around the stone to peer into the circle, two obsidian pillars rose from the ground while a shimmering portal the color of liquid amethyst rippled between the columns of polished volcanic glass. My nemesis and former mentor, the Archmage himself, stood 15 feet away with his back to me. His hands slowly rose as if his effort physically pulled the portal from the frozen ground.
I had to stop him. Nothing good was going to come out of that portal. In fact, it probably meant the end of the world. Not an apocalypse this time, but full on armageddon. Desperate, I charged into the stonehenge, flinging a Polar Vortex at the man responsible for the upcoming disaster. It was one of the few spells I hadn¡¯t learned or mastered under the Archmage¡¯s tutelage. I hoped it meant that my former mentor wouldn¡¯t be prepared to counter it.
Frozen winds whipped the older man¡¯s robes and frost turned its folds into stiff creases. I launched another of my original six spells, Lightning Rod, as a follow up. Static electricity crackled and sparked in the air around his opponent while I prayed that the spell¡¯s chance to stun would trigger. With a stun I would have time to cast a spell the Archmage didn¡¯t know I had access to and would hopefully even the playing field against a man about to willingly put an end to the world.
Bolts of energy played over the Archmage¡¯s frozen robe like the inside of a plasma lamp, suggesting the stun had gone off. My opponent would be unable to move or speak for the next three seconds and I was prepared to take advantage of the break. It wasn¡¯t quite long enough for what I had planned, but it gave me precious time to set things up. I reached into the inside pocket of my leather motorcycle jacket.
Scroll of Overclock: The next two spells cast have their output increased exponentially.
I read the incantation for the spell as quickly as possible while in spite of my stun, the portal continued to rise. The maniac at the center of the henge shook of the temporary paralysis and continued intoning his ritual as if nothing had ever happened. Neither the subarctic wind nor lightning seemed to phase him. As I watched he shook his head as if sad or disappointed.
¡°You¡¯re too late, my friend,¡± the Archmage said without even turning to see it was me. ¡°The time has come.¡±
He began to walk toward the portal with the clear intent of entering it. I heard him say something unintelligible and gesture as if casting a spell. I was confused. I had thought it was a summoning portal. Was the Archmage planning to sacrifice himself to bring the god through? I shook my head clear. Whatever was happening, I needed to put an end to it, but my original plan wasn¡¯t going to work.
¡°Stop!¡± I yelled, willing a Gravity Well into existence just behind my opponent at the same time. Unexpectedly, reality shifted. The whole scene rippled as though made of water. Everything within a thousand feet lighter than the stones of the henge was drawn violently toward the center of my spell. I was ripped off my feet. I attempted to cast a teleport spell, which under the influence of the Overclock scroll should have jumped me outside the sphere of influence. Instead I jumped a mere 150 feet, the normal range of the spell. I briefly hit the ground and was immediately torn back into the vortex. As I was yanked into the maelstrom of snow and debris, the liquid light of the portal warped away from the volcanic glass that supported it. Everything the violet pool touched disappeared. The Archmage vanished from sight. Ice, rain, candles, incense all flew into the expanded portal. My wrist buzzed and I had time to see one last thing before I too flew into the twisted door between dimensions and all went black:
Stop the Archmage
Quest Failed
Chapter 1: Unexpected News
Chapter 1: Unexpected News
My fingers clicked across my desktop keyboard as I typed with a familiarity born of having the same username and password for every game related thing I took part in. It probably wasn¡¯t safe in terms of cybersecurity, but I had never been hacked. Besides, it was just a game account and once you¡¯re an adult, it¡¯s really not that hard to make up for lost time with character boosts and a good 32 hour binge weekend at home.
Username: [email protected]
Password: WhoR3allyGivesADamn?
I hadn¡¯t logged into my gamer email in ages. The main reason I had it was so I didn¡¯t have to. All the promos and mailing lists I had to sign up for got sent to that address. Fusion? receipts for the few games I bought these days were sent there to be forgotten. It had been a while since I had played anything new. There wasn¡¯t much time for that over the last couple years of the most serious relationship I had ever been in. That had changed and I was on my own again, so I was back to my old ways and eager to log in to the newest expansion of everyone¡¯s favorite market dominating MMO. I¡¯d come in late to the last few and wanted to get in on the beginning of this one. Unfortunately, it had been so long since I had logged on to the publisher¡¯s website that my account had been locked when I tried to log in from ¡°a new location¡±. So here I was, chasing down the email code to unlock it.
Froststorm | Froststorm Account Verification | Hello! If J4ckFr0st#1337 isn¡¯t your CombatID, don¡¯t click anythi. . .
Veritas Games | Your -Apocolypsis: The Real World Online- CrowdSpark Beta Invitation | The day you¡¯ve been waiting 10 years for has arrived.
The second message gave me pause. When I was 18 and making dumb(er) choices, I had spent a couple thousand dollars of my financial aid on a CrowdSpark campaign for a game called Apocolypsis. A year or two after the crowdfunding campaign had ended, news seemed to dry up and no one talked about it anymore. Updates from CrowdSpark had stopped. I had buried it under the rug with other lessons in making better financial decisions and forgotten about it over the years.
Since the account verification was on a timer, I took care of that before opening the next email. I closed the Froststorm account tab without buying anything. I needed to figure out what the Apocolypsis email was about first.
Dear J4ckSpr4t,
Today has been a long day coming. Everyone here at Veritas has put an astounding amount of blood, sweat, and tears into Apocolypsis: The Real World online. We have lived, loved, and died a thousand times breaching the veil between the world you see and the world as it truly is.
It was your support and the support of thousands of others who love the truth that made it all possible. It is time for the veil to fall, and our first intrepid pioneers to cross that boundary and blaze a trail for all who follow after.
Apocolypsis has changed a lot from its original form. First imagined as a virtual reality game in an age of headsets and haptic gloves, we are happy to finally announce that we have been working with Delusional Reality Inc. to create the first game solely designed to take advantage of their new Immersive Reality Capsule.
As a $2,000+ Backer, you are one of the lucky few who will receive an Immersive Reality Capsule with Apocolypsis: The Real World Online pre-installed for no additional charge. Normal retail for the standard capsule is $2,699. The Capsule is our way of saying thank you. Without you, none of this would have been possible.
Follow the directions below to enter a current address and set up an appointment for the installation of your capsule. For those of you with space or family issues, Capsule rental space and customer care is available at a Delusional Reality Inc. facility outside Redmond, Washington.
We understand and sincerely apologize for all your frustration and patience waiting for this day to come. We look forward to seeing you in the Real World.
Sincerely,
The Team at Veritas Games
I think I was in shock in those first moments after reading the email. My jaw was literally slack and I used my hand to shut it, because it wasn¡¯t volunteering to do so of its own accord. I was suspicious, of course. It was the Internet after all, and if something is too good to be true on the Internet, it¡¯s usually best to stare the gift horse in the mouth. There are gift horses, and then there are Trojan horses, and I was leaning toward the latter.
I was wrong. A few Infinite searches later and I had confirmed the announcements via FaceSpace trending news, AnimeNerds, and Dodecahedron. There were already thousands of comments on every thread and article by the time I got there. I skimmed a few, not expecting much, and must say I was impressed at the speed at which some of those individuals could type. Some of the back and forth between naysayers and proponents seemed like they could have given Tolstoy a run for his money. Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
Leaving those with more time than sense to their debates, I clicked through the links at the bottom of my email and signed up to have my capsule delivered to the small two bedroom house I rented. Redmond and their facility wasn¡¯t too far away and according to the site at my backer level care was provided for a year for $50 a month. Why they chose the word care I wasn¡¯t certain, but I was definitely curious. For now being at home sounded like the best choice. The game could be a flop, after all, and I could just throw the capsule up on Fredslist if it turned out it wasn¡¯t my thing. Renting space would just mean more hassle if I didn¡¯t like the game.
The day after I received another email, this time from Delusional Reality.
Dear Mr. McNamara,
Due to the sheer number of requests processed yesterday, we are currently looking at a three month backlog before an Immersive Reality Capsule can be delivered to your home. As one of the earliest high-end backers, Veritas Games has asked us to invite you to take part in testing a prototype Advanced Immersive Reality Capsule. Please contact us at your earliest convenience.
Sincerely Yours,
Alanna Beck
Neurologistics Coordinator
Delusional Reality Inc.
She had included a number to reach her at, so I dialed immediately. It rang twice before someone picked up.
¡°Delusional Reality, how may I help you?¡± asked a woman¡¯s voice.
I breathed a laugh out of my nose. Hearing someone say Delusional Reality outloud was strange. I replied before I could offend the person on the other end.
¡°Yes, is Alanna Beck available?¡± I asked.
¡°This is she.¡±
¡°Ah, hello Alanna. This is Jack McNamara. I¡¯m calling about the Advanced Reality Capsule?¡±
¡°Oh, Mr. McNamara.¡±
I interrupted her. ¡°Just Jack, please.¡±
¡°Jack, then. It¡¯s nice to hear from you. So you¡¯re interested in testing our Advanced Immersive Reality Capsule?¡±
¡°I suppose so. What exactly makes it advanced? I don¡¯t really know what the Immersive Reality Capsule does anyway.¡±
¡°Unfortunately, before I can tell you much, you will have to sign an NDA. But basically, our IRC makes playing Apocolypsis similar to being in a lucid dream. The goal of the AIRC is to make it feel like you¡¯re really there.¡±
¡°That¡¯s incredible. I didn¡¯t realize VR was at that level.¡±
¡°Let¡¯s just say we¡¯ve spent a long time grinding and finally leveled up,¡± she joked.
I gave an appreciative laugh. ¡°Gotcha. So what do we need to do? Do I need to sign in person?¡±
My email dinged.
¡°No need, I just sent you a PDF. Sign it in the Hancock font and we¡¯ll recognize that as a legally binding agreement. Do you need time to review it with a lawyer?¡± she trailed off as I heard a ding through the phone. ¡°Oh, I see you don¡¯t. Just another EULA, right?¡±
¡°Yeah, I¡¯m pretty sure I¡¯ve sold my soul to the devil at least a dozen times over the years because I don¡¯t read those things.¡±
She laughed. ¡°Haven¡¯t we all? So, are you available any time this week for delivery and set up?¡±
¡°I can probably get a half day on Friday. Would that work?¡±
¡°Sure. Is there any way you could take the next week off? While you can totally use the AIRC casually, part of the testing we would like to do includes a full week of immersion.¡±
The choice of the word care suddenly made a lot more sense, but I was surprised.
¡°You¡¯re asking me to play a game for an entire week? As in, 24/7?¡± I asked.
¡°Yes, the AIRC is a self-contained medical unit as well as a virtual reality platform. All your needs would be taken care of and you can choose from daily to 24 care from a CNA, at our expense.¡±
¡°Is there any danger?¡±
¡°There are always risks, and we can have someone go over those in detail if you like. But they should be minimal. The system has been vigorously tested and there is currently less risk than flying or driving.¡±
¡°Isn¡¯t flying safer than driving anyway?¡± I asked.
¡°That¡¯s what they say,¡± she answered. I could hear a smile in her voice. ¡°So what do you think?¡± she asked.
¡°I am tempted.¡± I told her honestly, though even I could hear the trepidation in my voice.
¡°Did I mention that we¡¯d be providing additional compensation during the testing phase?¡±
¡°You¡¯re going to pay me to play video games for a week?¡±
¡°THE video game to end all video games, Jack. But yes, we¡¯re going to pay you to play video games, on top of getting the AIRC to keep when it is finally released. A lawyer will bring all the necessary paperwork for you to sign while the technicians are setting up your capsule.¡±
I thought about it for a moment. Every nerdy gamer cell in my body was already screaming yes. A week off work. Escape into a game that should feel like real life. No worried elderly parents, no well-meaning friends wanting to get you drunk over a girl you never expected to work out anyway, no going to bed alone and missing her in spite of that. I am not sure why I thought about it so long, to be honest. The answer was easy.
¡°I¡¯m in.¡±
Chapter 2: The Veil Lifts
I stood alone in my living room, which was now dominated by the AIRC, dubbed the Crisis Pod. While the technicians were explaining how the capsule worked and how the game would feel ¡°real¡±, I had joked that it was an existential crisis waiting to happen. Apparently I wasn¡¯t the first person to make that reference, and she had let me in on the inside joke. Nearly everyone at Delusional Reality, Inc. referred to the AIRC as the Crisis Pod. It made me feel better, knowing the thing had been created by people with similar humor. I¡¯d have said similar intelligence, but my guess was they were light years ahead of me. I may have been in the top 10 percent on every standardized test I had ever taken, but intelligence is like rankings in multiplayer online battle arenas. Diamond may be better than 90% of all other players, but Challenger is still better than 90% of Diamond. The people at DRI were definitely Challenger in the IQ department.
The capsule itself looked like it had come straight off the set of Avatar, down to the green gel inside. There were a few realistic modifications for waste and feeding purposes, but otherwise had clearly been designed by a fan of the movies. The techs had pre-set the device for a week¡¯s immersion, so as soon as I laid down and closed the lid the process would begin. I stared at it, wondering what it would be like. My CNA, David, was due to come in a hook me up to the medical functions later. Right now he was out getting groceries, since he would basically be living in my home for the week. I was only comfortable with that because the company had set up camera feeds monitored by their own security personnel.
Standing there reminded me of the first time I jumped off a bridge into a deep creek. The more I thought about, the more the idea terrified me. The only solution was to stop thinking and simply take action. After that, there was only the thrill and the splash. There was no more point in waiting. It was time to jump.
I pulled off my ¡°lounge lizard¡± clothes, as my dad called them. Flannel pajamas, boxer briefs, a fitted tee and a cotton track jacket went folded onto a wooden chair near the capsule. Modesty has never been a particular issue in my family, so I didn¡¯t really care that there were cameras in the room. They¡¯d be observing my comatose naked body anyway once I was in the game. Whatever jollies someone got from looking at my slight paunch and the fur on my body that made me look part werewolf, they were welcome to them.
Climbing into the device was surprisingly comfortable. I had expected the gel to be cold, but it was about the temperature of a warm bath. I sat first, and in honor of the movie it was modeled after, pulled my legs in with my hands. From there I lay back, sinking gently into the cushioning gel and slipped my left arm through a loose intravenous feeding cuff. David would situate it correctly when he returned. I pulled the neurolink frame down and into contact with my body, then hit a button that auto-closed the lid. Once it had sealed, I hit another button to power the link sequence and closed my eyes. I think I fell asleep.
When I woke and opened my eyes again, I was standing in a grey space dressed in jeans, a fitted tee, and casual dress shoes. Fog spread out forever in roiling clouds at ankle depth. The sky was an overcast steel hue and went on without limits. The ground was firm beneath my feet, but the mist swirled around my ankles and revealed nothing of the surface below. I took a few cautious steps, but nothing changed.
A woman in a toga walked into my line of sight and approached me from a distance. Her hips swayed perfectly, her dark hair, large dark eyes and Greco-Persian exotic complexion had me in awe as she came closer. She gave me a reassuring smile as she did.
¡°Welcome to Purgatory, Jack,¡± she said. ¡°My name is Helen.¡±
¡°Of Troy?¡± I asked without thinking,
She flashed me a demure smile. ¡°Thank you. Yes, I am Helen of Troy. More or less. I am the Artificial Intelligence guide for your character creation. Your mental scan suggested that this is the form that would put you the most at ease during the process.¡±
I returned the smile. I had been warned about the mental scan and AI during the paperwork signing program, but I was endlessly grateful that my unconscious had such exquisite taste.
¡°Just out of curiosity, what were some of the runners up for guide characters?¡±
¡°Ah, Guenevere from the Morte D¡¯Arthur, a couple of your past lovers, and your dad. We find fictional characters not tied to past romances are more comforting guides than facsimiles of individuals our adventurers have genuinely known.¡±
¡°Makes sense. So what do we do now?¡±
I was pacing a little while we talked. The greyness was getting to me in spite of the lovely distraction.
¡°Would you like to sit?¡± Helen invited.
I looked around and saw nothing new. ¡°Where?¡± I asked.
She waved a hand and a comfortable looking leather couch appeared. It was just wide enough that we could sit across from each other without touching, but still be close enough for the conversation to feel intimate. The mist hugged its base. I took a seat on the left side and leaned back into the overstuffed arm. Helen sat down across from me in a similar position, flattening the skirt of her toga as she did so.
When she had settled in, I asked, ¡°So where do we start?¡±
¡°I suggest we start with selecting your class. We could choose your attributes first, but that could adversely affect your character class if you decide on something that doesn¡¯t compliment your choices,¡± she answered.
¡°Sounds good to me. No races?¡±
¡°Not in Apocolypsis. Not at its beginning. It is possible to join another race via powerful magic or genetic manipulation in the future, however.¡±
¡°Interesting. Are there still racial bonuses?¡± I wondered.
¡°Yes, actually. Humans have the Adaptable trait, allowing for 2 bonus points into any attribute of your choice, and resistances that vary depending on the climate and situation. Should you find yourself consistently taking part in cage matches, your physical resistance will rise, but your magic resistance will lower a little. Should you spend time in a arctic climate, your cold resistance will rise, but you will be more susceptible to heat effects. Don¡¯t worry, however, as you will never go below your base in any resistance. If you have a natural 10% resistance to heat and gear that gives you another 40%, you¡¯ll still have 50% resistance even if you have spent a year in Alaska and are up to 75% cold resistance from Adaptable¡¯s bonus. Note that the bonus and negative are limited to plus and negative 15%.¡±
It was a lot of information, but it was pleasant to gain it through conversation with the most beautiful woman in history rather than reading a bland guide. She had a slight accent that added to the appeal.
¡°Is that the only human trait?¡± I asked.
She smiled. I melted. ¡°No,¡± she said. ¡°Humans also have the Advanced Learning trait. Your race learns everything 15% faster than most other races. A handful of others have the same trait and only a few have a better learning trait.¡±
That was interesting, but true. There were always humans somewhere with the drive to learn as much as they could, whether it was a specialized topic, or the classic Renaissance Man. Even more interesting that it applied to everything. I wasn¡¯t sure if that meant just all the skills or something more. So I asked.
¡°What do you mean by learn everything?¡±
She nodded her approval. ¡°I do enjoy your curiosity. It means everything. You can learn crafting skills, combat skills, spells, lore/history, unearth secrets you spend time researching that much faster. You also gain 15% more experience than races without the trait.¡±
¡°Really? That seems kind of overpowered.¡±
The princess of Troy and queen of Laconia shrugged. ¡°Humans have a much more limited lifespan than many races. They don¡¯t get to enjoy their knowledge as long. It all balances out in the end.¡±
¡°Does lifespan matter in Apocolypsis?¡± I inquired.
¡°It could, should you play often enough. There¡¯s significant time dilation. Just as a dream can seem like it lasts all night and can cover the events of weeks or months, but only takes 15 minutes.¡±
¡°How much time dilation is there?¡±
¡°Honestly, that¡¯s one of the things you¡¯re here for. The Gatekeepers are using you and the others to help figure that out.¡±
¡°The Gatekeepers?¡± I asked.
¡°Within Apocolypsis, that¡¯s how we refer to the creators of your capsule.¡± She continued before I could ask another question. ¡°Are you ready to choose your class?¡±
¡°Sure,¡± I responded.
¡°What role would you like to play?¡± Helen asked me.
That question gave me pause. In most online games I played a tank, whether it was a MOBA or an MMORPG. The role had always appealed to me. Every group needed one, and a good one was always appreciated. I had been both the main tank and off tank in various end game raids when I had been a more dedicated gamer, and had gone so far as to get all my attunements, keys, and necessary resistances for raiding back when MMOs hadn¡¯t been dumbed down for the casual market. I was such a fan of the survivability of tanks that I consistently leveled in a tank specialization for the classes I played and often had one of every tank class at max level and geared to raid. Alt-itis was something of an issue for me, but would not be an option for me this time around. Apocolypsis apparently allowed one character per account and that character was somehow tuned (positively) to the player¡¯s real life experience.
As an adult I tended to play even multiplayer games alone or with a small, tight group. I didn¡¯t know anyone else playing the Apocolypsis beta, so I intended to play solo. The game was supposed to be some kind of fantasy over real world overlay, like past games had done, so I wasn¡¯t sure tanking was what I wanted to do. I hoped Helen wouldn¡¯t mind spending a lot of time with me, because I really wanted some idea of what the options were before I made a decision.
¡°Just out of curiosity, can you show me a list sorted by the least popular classes?¡± I asked.
Helen nodded and raised one hand and drew it down slowly. A not-quite opaque screen appeared between us with five classes. It read:
Five least popular classes, from most popular to least popular:
The options were peculiar. I was surprised most of them were classes at all. Siege Engineer I figured was an homage to pen and paper role playing games, and sounded out of place in an urban fantasy setting. Construction worker sounded too much like real work, but I thought it might become more popular once the game was released to the public. Farmer was another I didn¡¯t think much of, but then I remembered that FaceSpace game, Farmburg, and it made sense. The last, well, I had to ask.
¡°Janitor?¡± I questioned in disbelief.
The beautiful woman partially obscured by the screen shrugged before answering. ¡°It takes all kinds, I guess. The Creators wanted people to be able to do just about anything. Plus, they have a trait, ¡°One Man¡¯s Trash Is another Man¡¯s Treasure¡± that allows them a greater chance to find money and valuable items while cleaning or salvaging. In the right area, it could be quite profitable.
¡°Huh,¡± was my only reply. I had never expected a game designer to put much thought into such a role. I wondered if the person in charge of that class had been a janitor at some point in their life.
¡°What about Omnimagus?¡± I asked.
She shrugged again. For a program, she was exceptionally human. ¡°Too many choices, many people don¡¯t look very deep. No one else has shown an equally morbid level of curiosity as you have. Those who did look at the class didn¡¯t think the benefits outweighed the costs.¡±
¡°And those are?¡±
She gestured at the screen. ¡°See for yourself.¡±
Seeing me pause with uncertainty, she said, ¡°You can touch it.¡±
Her eyes twinkled mischievously and one corner of her perfect mouth turned up in a grin as she did so. I looked askance at her, totally unprepared for an Artificial Intelligence to not only be in the form of the sort of woman you fall in love with at first sight, but also to be making innuendos in that form. Pretending I hadn¡¯t caught it, largely because I had no idea how to respond, I tapped the Omnimagus section on the screen. It opened a new page.
Omnimagus
The Omnimagus is an unusual individual in a world of specializations. A sort of Jack-of-all-mages, the Omnimagus is capable of learning any sort of magic she wishes, from fireballs to divination to demon summoning to voodoo. The downside, however, is that the Omnimagus will never receive the kind of damage bonuses that specializing in a specific variety of magic will provide. Spells are also expensive and require a significant time investment to train.
Primary Stat: Intelligence
Secondary Stats: Willpower, Vitality, Dexterity
Tertiary Stats: Charisma, Strength
Armor Proficiencies: Light Armor
Weapon Proficiencies: Any shared by other spellcasting classes. Light and medium weapons only.
Class Traits:
Insatiable Curiosity: The Omnimagus has one, impossible goal: omniscience. This hunger for knowledge has lead to the ability to learn more, faster, than other individuals. +1% Advanced Learning per 2 points in intelligence above ten. Stacks with the racial trait.
Renaissance Mindset: A life dedicated to learning anything of interest and learning it well has paid off. Perception begins at level +4, All skills get a +1 bonus every 10 levels (110 at max level).
Neuroplasticity: The more you learn, the more pathways your brain creates. The Omnimagus will never suffer from Alzheimer¡¯s. Gain .025% mental resistance per skill level in any skill.
Practical Fashion: The Omnimagus can wear or use items normally restricted to another spellcasting class. I.e. An Omnimagus can equip a Warlock¡¯s robe, a Wizard¡¯s wand, and a Witch Doctor¡¯s bone nose ring and benefit from any non-class ability bonus.
Omnimage: The Omnimagus can learn spells from any school used by a mana based class.
Class Abilities:
Start with six Level 1 spells from any combination of schools.
Meditation: Spend a few minutes meditating to refill your metawell. Duration required reduced by improving the Meditation skill.
And that was where it ended. Which was probably for the best, because I was drooling. I leaned my head to the side and looked at the woman whose beauty launched a thousand ships.
¡°Are you sure you didn¡¯t design this class just for me?¡± I asked, only half joking.
She laughed and replied, ¡°I¡¯m positive. On the other hand, it does seem strangely suited to your proclivities.¡±
¡°I¡¯m surprised it¡¯s so unpopular,¡± I noted. The woman was smart, beautiful, and well-spoken. It¡¯s a good thing I knew she wasn¡¯t real or I would have fallen for her right then and there. Well, more than I already had.
¡°Well, it is the beta, so not very many people have had a chance to choose classes. It¡¯s not as flashy as other classes. As I understand it, there aren¡¯t that many people in your world who really appreciate learning and education the way you do, either.¡± You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
¡°That¡¯s a good point. But this is definitely the class for me. Let¡¯s do it.¡±
Helen gave me a slightly concerned look. ¡°Are you sure?¡± she asked. ¡°This will be your only chance to choose a class for the next week of real time, and significantly longer in subjective time. There may be something you like more on the list. We haven¡¯t even talked about tanks yet.¡±
I admit, it was a little weird that she knew that much about me. But the company had warned me beforehand and I was told to expect it. Despite that, the depth of knowledge was unsettling. I shook my head.
¡°No, I definitely want to go with the Omnimagus.¡±
¡°Last chance to change your mind. You know what they say, ¡®Jack of All Trades, Master of None. . .¡± she pushed.
¡°A jack of all trades is a master of none, but oftentimes better than a master of one,¡± I supplied the full quotation before continuing. ¡°Besides, if this close to being a real world sort of thing, I¡¯d rather be prepared to interact with the sheer variety the world has to offer. ¡®Specialization is for insects¡¯, to quote Robert A. Heinlein. Do it.¡±
¡°So mote it be,¡± she said strangely.
A shimmer of yellow, blue, and white energy flowed over me, like an aura of lightning. When it reached the soles of my shoes it faded away. Once it was gone I felt. . . different. The hair on my arms was standing straight up. I could sense my connection to an energy source I had never been aware of before. It pulsed through my body and roared in my ears like blood in my veins. It wasn¡¯t just within me either, but surrounding us in the endless grey, unseen. I stared at my guide in awe.
¡°This, this is incredible,¡± I stuttered. ¡°Can feel you feel this? Do you use mana?¡±
She gave me the sort of smile you give a student or a child learning something you¡¯ve known for ages. ¡°That¡¯s your chakras being opened up to access your metawell, where your metaphysical energy, or mana, is stored. Most mages open one chakra more than others, and channel their magic through that chakra. Yours are all equally open at present.¡±
It was strange to hear her talking about the experience as if I were living it and it wasn¡¯t simply a game mechanic. I guessed that was why Apocolypsis was subtitled ¡®The Real World Online¡¯. I was, of course, familiar with concept of chakras, even if I had never put too much faith in it. I was going to have to spend some time researching it, if that was part of how magic functioned in this world. Ha, world. Even everything about this grey limbo was so real I was already forgetting it was a game myself
¡°Would you like to pick your stats or your spells, next?¡± Helen asked, breaking the silence my internal dialogue had created. I probably could have spent my entire week sitting in that grey talking to her, so it was good that she was there to keep me on track. I weighed the two choices for a moment and decided.
¡°Stats, please. I have a feeling spells might take a while.¡±
She brushed her fingers over the screen a few times then presented it me. ¡°Here you go. Stat distribution takes place on your character screen.¡±
The screen was surprisingly simple. No paper doll showing what I had equipped or what slots were available. Just information.
Name: Jack McNamara Level: 1
Class: Omnimagus Exp: 0/1000
Life: 140/140 Metawell Capacity: 170/170
STR: 12 [+] DEX: 14 [+]
VIT: 14 [+] INT: 16 [+]
WIL: 18 [+] CHA: 14 [+]
Points Available: 10
Resistances [Press here to Reveal.]
Traits [Press here to reveal.]
Skills [Press here to reveal.]
Spells/Abilities [Press here to reveal.]
I was surprised to see my values weren¡¯t at a base of ten. I said as much, and was impressed with Helen¡¯s answer.
¡°Are you an average, Jack? No. No one really is. Your strength is lower because you haven¡¯t been keeping up with your exercise, but you used to and your hobbies keep you somewhat toned. Your dex is high from all the years of playing hacky sack, dabbling in martial arts, snowboarding, and yoga for example. Your health is fairly good, partially because of the former. You¡¯re naturally intelligent, moreso than many but less than many others. The fact that Willpower is your highest stat doesn¡¯t surprise me. You know what you want, you have always been independent and gone through life happiest when you did things your way. As for Charisma, well, those blue eyes are to die for, and you can be quite charming when you¡¯re not overthinking things or afraid to be yourself. Everyone who enters the Real World will have their base stats tailored to their personal experience, with no one falling below a ten.¡±
Her answer was quite thorough and a little disturbing. One doesn¡¯t always like to look at oneself quite so honestly. With a somewhat abashed smile, I held up my hands in surrender and went back to my stat screen. I had ten points to distribute. I immediately put four points into Intelligence. I wanted to make the most from my class abilities and it was the most important stat for a mage. Mana, or my Metawell Capacity, as Apocolypsis referred to it, appeared to be determined by the average of my Intelligence and Willpower multiplied by 10. I was pretty content with how things looked, so I dropped four more points into Vitality to increase my life, and yet another two into Intelligence. I could shore up any weaknesses later as I leveled up. So my starting stats looked like:
Name: Jack McNamara Level: 1
Class: Omnimagus Exp: 0/1000
Life: 180/180 Metawell Capacity: 200/200
STR: 12 DEX: 14
VIT: 18 INT: 22
WIL: 18 CHA: 14
Points Available: 0
Resistances [Press here to Reveal.]
Traits [Press here to reveal.]
Skills [Press here to reveal.]
Spells/Abilities [Press here to reveal.]
I didn¡¯t see any options to verify my choices. It looked like it was one of those games where your stat choices were the final answer. That was good information to have as it meant I would have to plan ahead. Curious, I pressed on the Skills button to see what I started with.
Skills [Select Individual Skill for Breakdown]
Archery: 22/110 Climbing: 17/110 Computers: 46/110 Driving: 48/110 Dog Training: 33/110 Firearms: 25/110
Fishing 1/110 Herbalism: 2/110 Horseback Riding: 27/110 Landscaping 24/110 Martial Arts: 33/110 Medicine: 37/110
Perception: 24/110 Seduction: 35/110 Science: 15/110 Social Skills: 22/110 Swimming: 18/110 Survival: 5/110 Teaching: 55/110 Theatre Arts: 39/110 Writing: 66/110
Wow. Veritas Games had really tried to include everything they could think of. With one exception I saved looking at skill breakdowns for another time. I couldn¡¯t help myself, so I selected Seduction. It spilled out into a list of 35 women¡¯s names and I hurriedly collapsed the breakdown again, looking up quickly to see if the woman across from me had noticed. I think she winked at me, but the other eyelid followed so closely in a slow blink that I couldn¡¯t be sure. Her face remained calm with a small smile, the same as it had been most of the time between larger laughs or smiles. Of course, as the A.I. the screen had to be a part of her program, so she must have known. I gave up.
¡°Are you ready to choose your spells?¡± Helen asked me as if oblivious to my momentary embarrassment.
¡°Ah, sure,¡± I said quickly.
¡°There are thousands of spells in Apocolypsis. Do you have an idea of what you¡¯d like to look at?¡±
¡°Let¡¯s start with shield spells, the kind that take a certain amount of damage before they pop,¡± I said. A good defensive spell went a long way. I preferred classes that started and ended most fights with full health.
Helen ran one finger gracefully across the screen and presented it to me. ¡°How about one of these?¡± she asked.
Aegis of Faith (Holy) - May the light of your God protect you. Instant. Lasts for 20% of max health or 8s before breaking. 20s cooldown.
Shield of the Iron Maiden (Pain) - The best kind of pain is shared. Instant. Lasts for 10% of max health or 8s before breaking. Returns 200% of total damage dealt to the attacker. 20s cooldown.
Frostguard (Elemental: Water/Air) - No one goes to war in winter. Instant. Lasts for 5 hits or 15s before breaking. Slows attacker¡¯s movement and attack speed by 20% for 5s on hit. Does not stack. Additional hits will reset the timer.
Wreath of Flame (Elemental: Fire) - We don¡¯t need protection, let the $#!@#%&%#&!@ burn. Instant. Deals 150% of caster¡¯s Intelligence in damage to all enemies within 2 yards every 5s for 20s.
I weighed the pros and cons of each. Aegis of Faith was clearly the best at pure damage mitigation. With it I would have basically have an extra health pool of 36 health as I started the game. It was definitely a frontrunner in my choices.
Shield of the Iron Maiden must have been some kind of Warlock or evil Cleric spell. Maybe an Inquisitor spell, if there was such a class. It would only mitigate 18 hit points of damage at first level, but was something of a high risk, high reward spell. It had a lot of damage potential. If I timed the casting during a particularly devastating attack, or was lucky enough to have the shield up when a critical hit landed, the pay off in damage to the monster/opponent could be huge. I kind of liked the idea and whoever had written the spell description had a sense of humor I appreciated. I put it on the scale across from Aegis of Faith.
It was interesting that the Element of Frostguard was Water/Air, not simply Ice. I wondered how many elements there were in the game. With the reference to chakras, I was willing to bet money it was the eight elements from eastern Asian cultures. Whether the classic four or eight, low air temperatures and water make ice, so I could see how the combination came to be. The spell was the bottom of my list. It was meant for a mage who planned to do a lot of kiting and kiting has never been my thing. Hit and run tactics don¡¯t often appeal to people who like to play tanks.
The last choice was peculiar, since it didn¡¯t really fit my description of a shield spell. It was more of an aura than a shield, but with its similarities to Shield of the Iron Maiden, I could see how it might come up in a related search. It had decent damage potential, starting at 132 damage over 20 seconds, but I was really looking for the kind of mitigation offered by the first three options.
In the end I went with the one that covered as many bases as possible, and chose Shield of the Iron Maiden. I liked the damage potential as well as the minor shielding. Plus, Iron Maiden references always amused me. They are a famous icon of pain and torture, but it turns out that it is unlikely they were ever actually used. I told Helen what I wanted and with a curious raised eyebrow, she nodded and I found the spell added to my character sheet along with a new skill, Cruciatus, the game¡¯s name for pain magic.
My next choice was a life drain spell. I intended to take a pure healing spell as well, but I definitely wanted something vampiric as well. Life leech had been one of the most convenient enchantments in nearly every role playing game I had ever played. There¡¯s nothing like being able to sustain yourself through battle after battle. Healing, eating, or drinking like some games require just take more time than I cared to spend. So Leech, aptly named as it was, became one of my first six spells. It¡¯s corresponding school of magic turned out to be Sanguis.
¡°You could have chosen to play a Warlock,¡± Helen teased as I made my second choice. ¡°We could have been done already.¡±
I laughed and smiled. ¡°I know. I typically like warlock type classes, but they don¡¯t get the kind of spells I want next. Remember, two examples does not a pattern make.¡±
Her returning smile was to die for. ¡°I like that. It¡¯s one of those obvious truths we like to forget,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯ll remember that.¡±
I shook my head in amazement. It was still hard to believe she was a set of code programmed by human beings instead of simply a human herself. I wanted to say as much, but it seemed rude.
¡°So what¡¯s next?¡± she asked while I was pondering the humanity of Artificial Intelligence.
I pulled my head back into the game. ¡°Is there a heal over time I can cast and forget? It doesn¡¯t have to be powerful, just something to compliment what I already have.¡±
Her dark ringlets bobbed up and down once, and just like that I had another spell and the Elemental skill.
Axolotl¡¯s Regeneration (Elemental: Life) - Imbue your target with the regenerative ability of a unique Mexican salamander. The wet kind. Instant. Heals the target for 20% of total life over 10s. 15s cooldown.
It was exactly what I was looking for. Defensive and recuperation spells out of the way, it was time for pure offense, crowd control, and either another offensive spell or something with utility. I thought about my favorite spells from a variety of games I had played. I wanted some kind of gravity well for crowd control; a teleport any target spell I could abuse for both travel, damage, and getting threats out of my face; and a nuke like the classic fireball spell. When I shared my desire with Helen she thought for a moment, then shared a few options for each. In the end I chose:
Gravity Well (Elemental: Void) - Bending the laws of physics never resulted in anything horrible. Ever. Create a 10 ft. zone that draws all loose objects, creatures, or people toward its center. Lasts 10s. Targets are slowed 80% diminishing over 15s.
Quantum Telephoresis (Elemental: Void) - Teleport is definitely the cooler word. Shift the quantum particles of one object or creatures being across a distance to replace particles at the destination. The details are complicated. Don¡¯t ask. Teleport a loose object or animate being 5 ft. per character level. This spell is dangerous. We¡¯ll let you figure out why.
Lightning Rod (Elemental: Earth/Air) - Living beings make great conductors! Briefly turn your target into an attractor for all latent electromagnetic energy in a 10 ft. area. Deals 25 + ((Int/4)character level damage.) Chance to stun the target for 3s.
I was finally done, but there was still one question I was dying to ask. ¡°Helen, some of these spells feel like they¡¯re too powerful for a first level mage. How does that work?¡±
She nodded. ¡°There are a variety of balances for such things. If an entity of any kind is a higher level than you are, your spells will be naturally less effective. Furthermore, if something has an affinity or traditional enemy related to an element or school of magic, they may have natural resistances. These can be granted by technology as well as magic or genetics. A personal antigravity device would cancel out the use of your Gravity Well, while an earth elemental would be unaffected by your Lightning Rod. That being said, the natural order of things does apply, so I don¡¯t recommend standing the same puddle as the target of a lightning spell.¡±
¡°Alright, that makes sense,¡± I said, nodding in return. That was standard fare for plenty of games, or at least a variation on it. ¡°So what¡¯s left to do?¡± I asked.
¡°Just these,¡± she said, closing her hand and opening it again to reveal a blue and red gel capsule.
¡°Really? The red pill, blue pill cliche?¡± I said in disbelief.
Her laughter seemed to fill the grey with color. She shook her head, locks of hair swaying so drastically she had to move her hair out of her face before she answered. ¡°No, that¡¯s a healing potion and a mana potion, red and blue respectively,¡± she told me. ¡°Did you expect them to come in bottles?¡±
I laughed too. ¡°Oh, wow. That makes sense. That¡¯s clever. Can I make these in the game?¡±
Her nod was quick. ¡°Of course. If you can find the right teacher, or the right books. Just like the world you¡¯re used to, not everyone who can do something can teach it. There a many crafting professions, but you¡¯ll have to discover them on your own.¡± She stood from the couch, stretching languidly. Her toga hugged her curves and I caught myself staring. ¡°It¡¯s time for me to go and you to get started. Any last questions?¡± she asked.
¡°Are you in the game? Will I see you again?¡± I asked her, foolishly distracted by the woman the A.I. had presented itself as.
¡°I am, but far, far from where you will start,¡± she replied. She started to walk away into the grey. A door formed from nothing and she opened it, turning back to look at me as she did. ¡°Besides,¡± she said, waving her left hand at me and flashing light from a ring on her ring finger. ¡°I¡¯m a married woman,¡± she finished with a coy smile and a wink before slipping through the door, which disappeared as it closed behind her.
I stood there alone in the grey for a moment with my thoughts. Why did they always have to be married?
Chapter 3: Revelations
I woke slowly. Soft light hit my eyes, green tinted from the gel in which I lay. It took a moment for me to realize just where I was. -- in my capsule. I had just finished character creation and had been left behind in limbo by the ideal woman. Well, nearly ideal. Historically, fidelity wasn¡¯t Helen of Troy¡¯s strong suit. But the A.I. was just representing her so. . . I stopped myself. That line of thought had no point. It was just a pleasant illusion to guide me through the character creation process. The corner of my mouth twitched upward. Very pleasant.
The capsule confused me. It was impossible that character creation had taken a week. There was supposed to be some serious time dilation, which meant at best the time I had spent with Helen should have barely been a blink of the eye in the real world.
¡°Hello?¡± I called out, hoping my assigned CNA was around. There was no response.
I took a couple of deep breaths to collect myself, then began disconnecting tubes from various parts of my body. My mouth tasted like I had gone to bed after eating some horrible combination of pickles, smoked oysters, garlic and Funyuns. It had to be the worst case of dragon¡¯s breath I had ever had. As much as I wanted to get back into the game, I wanted a shower and a good five minutes with my toothbrush first.
The lid opened slowly but smoothly as I pushed it upward, like a pneumatic lever on the trunk of a well-built car. It was night out and the room was dark, but I could make out the furniture in the light coming from the various LEDs and such in the capsule¡¯s workings. Everything was as I left it, with the couch pushed off against the wall to one side. Another LED flashed on and off from the TV, meaning it was in sleep mode. I hadn¡¯t used it, so it must have been the caregiver. I made way into the bathroom, flipping on the light and hopping into the shower as soon as the water had warmed up. As I stood under the hot water with my eyes closed, the sleepiness washed away and I realized I felt really good. Amazing, even. I had more energy than I could remember, almost to the point I could almost feel a charge running through me. My left wrist itched, but when I went to scratch it, my fingernails ran over a strange, smooth surface. I looked down and stared.
There, embedded in my wrist was a one and a half inch wide, two inch long screen. On contact it glowed a pale blue with white lettering. At the top was my name, then the time and date, the temperature and four icons; one for email, one for messaging, a browser, and something else that looked like Leonardo DaVinci¡¯s Vitruvian Man. That had definitely not been there before I went under. It had also definitely not been in the contract. I looked closely at the skin around it. The epidermis wasn¡¯t red or inflammed, and somehow blended almost seamlessly with the screen. Which meant it wasn¡¯t new. Maybe I had been in the capsule longer than I thought.
Absentmindedly, I turned up the heat of the water while staring at my wrist. Water beaded on the screen but it remained clear and easy to read as the room steamed up. I pushed the email button. I jumped and almost slipped when four short beams of light shot up from my wrist and formed a tablet-sized holographic screen similar to the one Helen had shown me in Purgatory. At first glance it looked like the screen showed me my typical Infinite email app. When I looked a little closer, the tabs were named a little differently. I still had Inbox, but it was followed by tabs for Tasks, and Market instead of the usual Social, and Promotions. All the tabs were empty.
The messaging icon looked like the typical cell phone messaging system, no big deal. I had no contacts, but didn¡¯t have any reason to have them in a strange device. IN MY WRIST. Cybernetically enhancing myself had never been particularly appealing, but apparently that choice had been taken from me. The browser opened a typical Infinite browser, and a couple quick searches brought up completely normal pages for the things I was used to. I turned up the water again, since I was slowly running out of hot water, and pressed the Vitruvian Man.
Name: Jack McNamara Level: 1
Class: Omnimagus Exp: 1/1000
Life: 180/180 Metawell Capacity: 200/200
STR: 12 DEX: 14
VIT: 18 INT: 22
WIL: 18 CHA: 14
Points Available: 0
Resistances [Press here to reveal.]
Traits [Press here to reveal.]
Skills [Press here to reveal.]
Spells/Abilities [Press here to reveal.]
I was confused. Here I was, in my own shower, in my own home. The shampoo bottle was a quarter of the way from empty, just as it had been yesterday. I had agreed to beta test a video game. I couldn¡¯t come up with a reason I would need my stat screen in my wrist in real life, but couldn¡¯t conceive of a video game THIS real, regardless of its subtitle. The only differences I could detect between the world I was used too and the one I was living right now were the wrist device and the strange energy thrilling through me. The unusual tabs in my Infinite mail account were off too, but that could easily be explained in relation to the new holographic user interface. Was I inside a game or not? I didn¡¯t have an answer, so I just gave in to the soothing hot water of the shower until it ran out.
A small window looked out the bathroom on a fenced backyard with a large raised planting box. The window was opaque, but the bathroom fan was old so I kept it open when I was showering to let some of the steam escape. I took a look outside as I toweled off. The spear of light from the window revealed a jackalope sitting in the middle of the box and eating the lettuce I had planted. It was about two and a half feet tall sitting on its haunches and its antlers had six points. Clearly a decent stag that any hunter wouldn¡¯t be embarrassed to mount. Not a lot for a deer, but this was a giant hare with antlers.
I did a double take. Blinked a few times. Clearly I had spent too much time reading folklore and mythology because my reaction to seeing my first cryptozoological animal was to have rational thoughts. I had to be in the game. I was sure now. Mostly. Because jackalopes don¡¯t exist. The creature was not having the same existential crisis I was, as it just continued to contentedly eat my lettuce, unaware that it had a witness. Light reflected off its eyes, making them glow and making the overgrown rabbit seem more fierce than it probably was. My wrist beeped and the jackalope whipped its head toward the direction of the noise. It took off, bounded across the garden box and cleared the four foot fence in a single leap. I caught a hint of its shadowy form racing through a pool of light given off by a streetlamp and then it was gone into the darkness. I finished toweling off and went into my room for some clothing.The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
The felt of my favorite pajamas pants was as soft and warm as it always was, and the elastic band just as worn out as it had been for years. I slipped on one of my favorite gaming t-shirts and it fit as snugly as usual. There wasn¡¯t a single sensation I experienced that did not exactly live up to my expectations, conscious or unconscious. The technology in the Delusional Reality capsule was astounding, or my mind was just playing tricks on me. Or part of the technology worked on the fact that the human mind was good at playing tricks on itself. I wasn¡¯t sure how I felt about that possibility.
In spite of the fact that it was dark out, I felt refreshed after the shower. I wasn¡¯t sure what to do, so I went with a classic and turned on my TV. A news program with a pretty female anchor came on, talking about local events.
¡°In other news, werewolves have been sighted in the Coeur D¡¯Alene national forest, so the Forest Service has released a warning for hikers in the area. Zombies have once again sprung up in the St. Thomas cemetery so be careful if you¡¯re going to visit your loved ones. Bounties have been posted for both zombies and jackalopes, and don¡¯t forget to hit up Fredslist to find gigs from private parties. Remember to stick to legal jobs!¡±
I hit mute and just watched the images flash by. They showed corpses in various states of decay wandering about the local graveyard and a husk of jackalopes ruining a beautiful garden. Other scenes showed more typical news stories, like car accidents and county rodeo winners. My wrist beeped twice. When I glanced at it, a small number 2 rested at the corner of the email button. I tapped it and discovered I had two entries in my Tasks menu.
Taskmaster Plus | Pest Control: Zombies | Zombies are cropping up in a neighboring graveyard, help take them out!
Taskmaster Plus | Pest Control: Jackalopes | These horny beasts breed like rabbits. See what you can do to help stop the spread.
I snorted. The zombies sounded far more interesting than what amounted to a ¡°Kill 10 Rats¡± quest. Maybe jackalopes would be a good quest for a frost mage, but I didn¡¯t plan on chasing glorified rabbits around while they ran about. The one in my garden was already too fast for me.
Since I had woken feeling rested and it was only about 10 pm, I decided to check out the Zombies task. Jackalopes went straight to the trash. I clicked on the link for the former and the email opened.
Pest Control: Zombies
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Zombies are cropping up in the St. Thomas graveyard in Coeur D¡¯Alene, Idaho in the USA. A bounty is offered by The Department of Paranormal Security for putting 10 of the creatures to rest.
Rewards: $150, 150 xp
Find it on InfiniteMap!
Satisfied with Taskmaster? Fill out this 5 minute survey for a chance to win a $50 gift card! Tap HERE!
I tapped the InfiniteMap link and the program plotted the course from my location to the cemetery. Walking around with a glowing screen coming out of my arm seemed excessively conspicuous, so I searched for and found a minimize button. The screen retracted into my wrist, the display now showing the typical map. It was so hard to believe I was just playing a game. The truth was, it no longer mattered that it was a game. I would be living this life for a real world week, and who knew how long in game. It was time to saddle up and make the most of it.
The first thing to do was get ready. There was no way I was going to fight zombies in pajamas. For pants I was stuck with jeans. I pulled on an old gaming shirt with a shield and sword bearing silhouette from one of my favorite multiplayer online battle arenas. Tucked in the back of my closet was an old German motorcycle jacket made of thick, stiff leather. It had belonged to my dad, leftover from his Harley riding days. I figured it would hold up well against the teeth and grasping fingers of the undead if it came down to that. Once upon a time I had had the pants that went with the jacket, but I had let those go along with my youth. I regretted it, now. I would have been much more comfortable going out to face monsters in leather. My final touches were thick socks and steel toed hiking boots. Not my normal wear, which leaned toward dress shoes and shirts with jeans, but I was always prepared for practical moments.
In the interest of that Boy Scout practicality, I pulled a 9mm pistol from my nightstand and holstered it so I could cross draw it. I wasn¡¯t sure if that was the right way to wear it or not, but I was raised on the Back to the Future and the scene where Marty won a duel because he cross drew always made sense to me. There was a single small box of ammunition in the drawer, which I tucked into a pocket on my jacket. In the medicine cabinet in the bathroom I found two nearly empty prescription bottles, one with a couple red pills and one with three blue ones. I slipped those into another pocket. That done, I took a look in the full length mirror in the hall. I looked more like a fresh Mad Max than a scholarly mage, but I was satisfied. It was time for adventure.
*****
My SUV bounced as I turned into the parking lot of a diner across the street from the cemetery and got my first look. Whatever it looked like in my world, I was certain it was a little different than this. Nine foot tall cement walls topped with barbed wire surrounded the whole lot. The tops of deciduous trees rose far above the walls on the southern plot and lined the perimeter of the entire graveyard just inside the fortifications. I could see their branches swaying in a light wind. A paved street separated it from the northern plot, which had only open sky above it. A decorative but solid wrought iron gate barred entry to the road between the plots. I got out of the car and grabbed a flashlight before making my way to the entrance. On the way over I switched my map back over to the default display.
The concrete was still smooth and the barbed wire was just beginning to show signs of rust, suggesting the wall wasn¡¯t very old. It was warm to the touch as I put one hand on it and leaned forward to look through the gate. The night was quiet and cool, a common enough Idaho summer phenomenon, where temperatures went from 80s and 90s in the day to 60 in the evening. Occasionally a car went by, but otherwise the only sounds were typical night sounds. I was surprised. I expected a zombie infested graveyard to be filled with the moaning undead. As they say, expectations are the key to disappointment.
I took the bars of the gate between two hands and shook it to make sure it was sturdy. Flashlight between my teeth, I began to climb. One leg was half over when I heard something behind me. I turned my head and there was a man who looked like he might be a young 60 shining a flashlight on me.
¡°What are you doing, son?¡±
I maneuvered my flashlight into my hand so I could talk. ¡°I¡¯m here for the bounty on the zombies.¡±
¡°Ah,¡± he nodded. ¡°I thought you might be. It¡¯s unlocked. The zombies can¡¯t use doorknobs.¡±
I slid back down, embarrassed. The doorknob in the middle of the gate turned easily when I tried it. I smiled sheepishly. ¡°Thanks.¡±
¡°No problem. Just leave the bodies where they fall. The boys will put them back in the graves where they belong in the morning. Makes the families feel a little better. No explosives, you hear?¡±
¡°No explosives on me,¡± I replied with a nod.
¡°Good luck then,¡± he said, turning to leave. ¡°Close the gate behind you so they can¡¯t get out if you die.¡±
I blinked. The old man was entirely too nonchalant about all of this. He walked away, and I slipped into the graveyard, ready for my first quest.
I shut the gate behind me.