Massively Multiplayer (13 page)

With Killian down, and Jenna apparently useless, that left only his axe and Malcolm’s wild sword-swinging to contend with....one, two, three, five...eight! Eight walking compost heaps.

“Malcolm! This way! Over here, back to back!”

He might as well have been shouting at the tree trunk to which Jenna still clung, her eyes screwed desperately shut. Malcolm was flailing away and shouting grand threats. A combination of native skill and his donated armor had kept him relatively unwounded so far, but Rud knew that wouldn’t last long. A snarling mass of tree bark swung his way, and its thorned club lashed into his side, producing a bright red flash which he knew indicated a serious wound. Gritting his teeth, he hefted his remaining hand axe, brutally aware that they were all going to die. He calculated the distance to Malcolm’s side, and...

...and something like a tornado of barbed wire exploded into the clearing. Twin triangles of steel a hand’s-breadth across plunged through the back of one of the monsters and emerged from its mossy chest. With a sound like a brick dropping through a thatched roof, the triangular blades flashed apart, transforming the thing into a shower of splinters. Rud had a glimpse of blue vest before the figure engaged the next of Malcolm’s tormentors.

“Druin!”

Druin plunged his left-hand dagger into what would have been the creature’s spine, and the right-hand dagger into its leg, then flung his arms outwards as far as he could. Crucible allowed users to link their characters’ attributes and abilities to combinations of physical movements, reckoning, correctly, that such an interface favored both self expression and ergonomics. This one was a doozy. As a declared thief, Andrew’s character didn’t hit particularly hard, but stabbing opponents in the back was one of his specialties. The leafy little thug burst apart as its partner had, raining twigs and moss over the clearing.

Two more of the monsters which had been zeroing in on Malcolm turned towards him. He no longer had the advantage of surprise, and he would never hit as hard as a Uriah or a Gil, but he did have speed. Over years of play, Andrew had devoted most of the rewards he received with each advancement into speed training, and the Crucible system gave him the benefit of it now. There were still a lot of the twiggy things left, and from Killian’s fate it was clear they hit hard, but from his speed-enhanced perspective, they looked like they were trudging through molasses.

Jenna had not released her iron grip on the tree trunk, but she had opened her eyes when she heard Rud shout Druin’s name. As a consequence, she had the best seat in the house to witness the ensuing carnage. Druin’s superior velocity made him look like some kind of murderous wind-up toy, but there was no mistaking his effectiveness.

Rud had charged the nearest enemy and engaged it, as Druin leapt forward, his knives plunging in and out of the two monsters opposing him like some sort of manic hole-puncher. The things went down, and Druin had moved on before they could even fall to the ground, hamstringing Rud’s opponent before he snapped his knives around the neck of the thing threatening Malcolm’s flank. Its head obligingly popped off and it clattered to the forest floor in a messy heap. Druin, meanwhile, rolled sideways, over the corpse and came up under Malcolm’s flailing blade in time to spin both knives around so that the blades protruded from his fists, before sinking them into the front of yet another foe. Malcolm’s blade, unimpeded by his intended target, actually managed to travel around three quarters of a circle and crunch into the side of his last opponent, even as Rud finished off the one which had fallen to its knees.

The entire procedure, from the perspective of those without game-granted time dilation, took about twenty seconds. The clearing was quiet other than for the settling of twigs and leaves as, unnoticed by anyone, the game server brought Druin’s enhanced combat speed back into sync with the rest of the party.

Typically, it was Jenna who broke the silence. “What the hell were those things?”

“Twiggans,” Druin offered. “Low level nuisances, usually.”

“Nuisances! They almost killed us! They – oh no, Killian.”

They hurried to the other end of the clearing, where Killian’s booted feet stuck out from beneath a bush. Rud clucked his tongue in discouragement. Sir Malcolm hung his head, in real or assumed grief Druin wasn’t prepared to say. Jenna inspected the body quizzically.

“It’s not very realistic, is it?”

“Huh?” Druin said.

“Not very realistic. Shouldn’t there be blood somewhere? Bones sticking out of his shattered ribcage? Brains dripping out of his ears? I mean that’s what you geeks live for, isn’t it? The gore?”

“Uh, no. No, Crucible is PG.”

“You certainly seemed to take those leafy things apart.”

“Oh. Those were monsters. The player models never look as bad. I guess the company thought it was too disturbing, seeing people like that.”

“Huh. Seems like a logical consequence, to me.”

“Shut up!” Rud shouted, whirling on her, “just shut up! I am sick of your superior little speeches! You won’t stop complaining, you were totally useless during the fight, and it was your idea to go off into the woods in the first place, so just take your I-know-everything attitude and…just…shut…UP!”

“Well,” Jenna countered, “I don’t remember you protesting much back at the crossroads! You’re supposed to be the one who knows what he’s doing here, you’re the one who has played this stupid game before, and you—“

“Both of you shut up!” Druin interjected. “It’s my fault!”

That stopped them.

“It’s my fault,” he continued more quietly. “I went off to see if I could get some info about the updates, and I left you guys to fend for yourselves. I shouldn’t have left you. If you want to blame someone, blame me.”

Rud and Jenna backed down and took time off from glaring daggers at each other to contemplate their boot lacings. Malcolm nodded seriously. “Thou art noble to take on the blame for our misadventure. Good Killian was a fine warrior, and will be sore missed.”

Jenna looked distinctly uncomfortable. “What will happen to him?”

“He will have been logged out by the system.” Rud replied. “The body will be taken back to the nearest Inn, by NPCs – computer-generated constructs, usually look like wandering gravediggers, but they’re localized for the environment – and then he can log back in.” He glanced up at Druin, who confirmed his experiences with a nod. “He’ll lose whatever experience he had gained – not much, since we’ve only been logged in an hour or two – and some of his gold. Probably all of it,” he concluded glumly.

“Oh.” Jenna looked unhappy. “It doesn’t seem like a fun way to spend your time.” She held up a hand to forestall Rud’s protests. “I know, it’s your hobby, it’s a challenge, blah, blah, blah. But in golf, you don’t lose all your equipment when you have a bad day on the course.” She nudged one of the piles of remains. “So. Twiggans?”

“Twiggans,” said Druin “Little forest trolls, not much of a challenge for a prepared party...”

“...But enough to pound the snot out of us,” Rud finished lamely. “Druin, I’m sorry we left the...”

“Skip it,” Druin said. “This is just the kind of thing Gil wanted to find out about. If I can get him some information, maybe he won’t have MadHarp gut me for getting Killian waxed. How bad was it before I got here?”

“Bad. Malcolm was surrounded, and Rud was getting pummeled by the big one.” Jenna’s gaze lowered. “And Rud was right, I wasn’t any help.”

“Maybe you can be now,” said Druin. “Malcolm, keep watch, okay?”

“At once, sire,” Malcolm saluted smartly with his sword and began walking the perimeter of the clearing.

Druin turned back to Jenna. “Are you a mage?”

Jenna looked blank. “How would I know?”

“When you logged in, when you set up your character, they fed you a bunch of numbers for your character’s statistics, and asked if you wanted a ‘class package.’ Did you choose ‘Mage?’”

“I don’t think so. I just went with the defaults for everything. I told you, I’m here as a punishment. I’ve got forty more minutes to log today and I am outta’ here.”

“Well let’s make the most of them, then. If you took the default package, you’re a generic adventurer – it means you can do a little bit of everything.”

“One day you could be a bard,” Rud supplied. “Like that MadHarp guy.”

“Only if you’re also psychotic,” Druin muttered. “Okay, look around in the pack Gil gave you. Do you see anything red? Mushrooms, flowers, little crystals, anything like that?”

“Er...like, apples?” Jenna asked guiltily, remembering the “trail of breadcrumbs” she had been tossing over her shoulder as they walked through the wood.

Druin nodded. “That would be good.”

“Nope, no apples,” she replied quickly. Druin gave her a quizzical look, but she was glaring at Rud, daring him to say anything. Rud just looked smug. Grimacing, Jenna dug around in her pack, looking for any miscellaneous red items she hadn’t already discarded. “Mushrooms,” she confirmed. “three of them.”

“That’ll do,” said Druin. “Red indicates curatives. Take them out. Now hold one in your hand, and move it over the place where Rud got hit. Do you see anything different?”

Dubiously, Jenna did as he said, then looked surprised. “Hey, his side just lit up. Red.”

“Good,” Druin said. “You’ve engaged the diagnostic routine. Now squish the mushroom in your hand.” She did. A cascade of dark red sparkles trickled between her clenched fingers and bathed Rud’s side, sinking into his leather armor.

“Did you see it dissolve, Jenna? Did the red light get any dimmer? Good. Congratulations, you just healed someone.”

“I...did?” For a wonder, Jenna seemed to have no ready reply for this information.

Druin nodded firmly. “Rud is now more likely to survive the rest of our shortcut through the woods. He is also able to carry more weight, which is important, because he’s going to be dragging Killian.”

“I am?” Rud asked. “Why not just leave him for the grave diggers? He’s first level, we all are. He’s not going to lose much.”

“But he’ll lose less if we take him to the Inn,” Druin explained. “It’s still my fault that he got killed his first time out of the town.”

“It’s slower,” Rud grumbled.

“It’s right,” Druin countered. “We are a team. And even though I’m a thief, not a fighter like Rud or Malcolm, I’m of a high enough circle that I can defend us if anything else comes out of the woodwork. The Drear Wood isn’t friendly, but it’s not seriously dangerous, now that we know this path isn’t a protected zone. Malcolm takes point, because that armor should hold off anything for a while so I can stab it in the ass. You take Killian’s body, but drop it if we get jumped. Jenna, you take Killian’s crossbow and cover our rear. That means shoot anything that sneaks up on us and then yell for help. Got it?”

They all nodded and quickly set about arranging themselves for the trail. Loading Killian’s crossbow, Jenna whispered to Rud, “is this a bad idea? Should we drop the body and run like hell for the town?”

Rud shrugged. “I would. But I’m not in charge.”

“Uh huh. Well I’ll try not to be so useless if we get jumped,” Jenna said softly.

Dimly aware that a truce was being offered, Rud waved away her apology. “Trial by fire, happens to all newbies, me included. I’m the one who stepped in the trap, remember? Guess I’m a llama again. Anyway, now you know what this game is all about.” He grinned as he braced the legs of Killian’s corpse under his arms. “Besides, you made good with that healing spell. And I saw the look on your face...part of you found that exciting. Where in the real world can you do real magic? See yourself as a mage in the future?”

“Don’t push it, game geek,” Jenna snorted, hefting the crossbow. Rud dragged Killian away, chuckling. “Still,” she muttered to herself, thoughtfully contemplating Druin’s retreating form, “I wouldn’t mind being able to move like that.”

Immutable laws of the universe, number twelve: an ambush, almost by definition, never comes when you are expecting it. The best way to prevent an ambush is to prepare for one. In keeping with this dictum, Druin and his three remaining charges spent an uneventful half hour marching through the Drear Wood, senses alert and weapons at the ready, bothered by no more than the distant calls of carrion birds.

They rejoined the sea-road from Coppertown just as the sun was beginning its descent into the hills behind them. Below them lay Heron Rock, a village of perhaps fifteen structures which looked as though they’d been cobbled together from second-rate driftwood. Despite its disreputable air, the small harbor was alive with boats, fishing skiffs manned by grey-clad NPCs and larger vessels crewed by brightly-clothed adventurers vying for places at the tiny wharves which jutted into the water.

Jenna regarded the activity below them dubiously. “Aren’t people going to wonder why we’re dragging a body through the streets?”

“Don’t think about it,” Rud advised her. “Let’s just get to the Inn. It’s usually the biggest building in town.”

This proved to be the case. The Mermaid’s Ruin was large, at least, even if it looked to have been constructed with the same slapdash opportunism as the rest of the town. The clientele was primarily made up of players exclaiming over the new update’s features, swapping rumors of new areas to explore, and strange creatures already being catalogued on the netsites which catered to gamers. Druin judged the muted colors and brass fittings of their armor with an expert eye and judged them to be of mostly the third through fifth circles...Rud, Malcolm and Jenna would easily hook up with the impromptu adventuring companies which were always formed in hideaways like this. They would be fine.

Druin had soon ushered them through the process of signing the hostler’s guest book, an act which he notified them officially transferred their characters’ base to this establishment. Extra equipment would be stored here for a small fee, and if they were slain, they could expect to “wake up” in one of the rooms upstairs.

“That’s what will happen to Killian,” he told them grimly. “He’s probably given up on logging back in by now, but when he reconnects, tomorrow or whenever, he’ll be here. The experience setback won’t hurt him much, and he won’t lose any equipment because we dragged him here instead of letting the gravediggers do it.”