DoucheMage

by Damien Hanson

  “I love this place.”

  “Indeed, sir.”

  ***

  WELCOME TO PRESTIGE GAMING an automated voice chimed as the PENIS pushed through a docking slot and activated its landing thrust. Safe in the V-shaped port, the canopy retracted and several stairs appeared to allow him speedy exit from the skiff. He imagined himself wriggling forward toward the ultimate destination, a great shining egg of opportunity he would implant himself within and make fully his own.

  He was getting just a little too into this.

  “Where to next?”

  Butler the butler bowed and swept a hand toward the Entry Hall. “You’ll have the unique pleasure of jumping to the front of the line, and taking your pick of any of our lovely and talented TITS guides.”

  Brian stopped mid-stride and took a deep breath. “Are they all women? These TITS guides?”

  “Quite. It’s the tutorial system, and for most male guests over the age of eighteen, we offer up a female guide. However, if your preference is to have a man accompany you, we can–”

  “No, no, it was just a question. I’m okay with uhhhhhh…”

  He’d gotten a look at the holographic display, which appeared around his head. It was full of headshots and full body shots of any number of beautiful young women, all in their twenties, of all shapes and sizes.

  “I don’t… this doesn’t matter. I’m going to be skipping the tutorial anyhow. I read about the system and how the park works and all that.” He was pretty proud of always having done his homework.

  “Of course, sir. It should be noted that the guide, for our VIP guests, will be required to stay with you for the first two weeks of your stay here, to help you get adjusted to what life here should mean. Shall I choose for you then?”

  Stay. With him. Surely it couldn’t mean stay with him. Surely not… right? On the other hand, there were stories about going through the adult version of Prestige gaming and sleeping with literally anyone (or in some cases anything) you came across. That couldn’t possibly extend to these guides. That would be prostitution… wouldn’t it? Brian’s other brain quickly engaged and overrode his cerebral cortex.

  Be the alpha. “On second thought, I’ll… just…”

  But it wouldn’t be prostitution if he impressed her. And what could be more impressive than showing the perfect woman for him that he was a master of this entire place? Hadn’t he said he also needed a girlfriend? Maybe he could… No, no way. Surely these women met with rich customers every day, and weren’t going to be impressed with his slight paunch, his crooked teeth, and his bad skin.

  Be the alpha. No beta cucks here. Well, he’d never been rich before, and he’d never really tried to impress any of the women that interested him with the money he previously hadn’t had.

  “This… Nicole. Does it give–” He answered his own question by tapping on the young lady in question. She had pretty splashes of freckles on her cheeks and nose, and winked at him when he tapped on her. Her stats appeared in front of him, including age (25, three years younger than him) and height, which was the most important. Brian wasn’t a tall guy, only five and a half feet, so when he saw that Nicole was a cool five two, he was instantly hooked. On top of being gorgeous, she would be looking up at him. So many of his bullies had towered over him. That was never going to happen again.

  “Wow,” he breathed.

  “Quite, sir. I think you’ve made a good choice.” Brian didn’t even hear how bored Butler the butler seemed.

  “Yes. Her.” He’d spend at least a week with her, and if it ended there, it would be enough.

  Butler Butler led him into a grand hall, an even bigger version of the lobby where he’d bought his VIP package, with even more grand versions of the various genre scenarios being played out on the walls. A trickle of guests was filing in from the standard entrance, but Butler beckoned him past all that to an entrance marked VIP entrance.

  “Nicole should be here by now.”

  And she was. She bounded out of the VIP entrance door and seized his hand with an exuberance he’d never seen directed his way. She pumped his hand up and down.

  “You’re… Brian, More–”

  “Just Brian. Mr. Brian would also be okay, but actually please call me Brian.” God, he was such an idiot. She’d never like him if he kept stammering like this.

  Five minutes later he was dressed in a white bodysuit which really clung to all his curves, which he wasn’t proud of. He’d chosen the helmet rather than the nanite injection, which honestly sounded terrifying. Having the game inside his brain was honestly a recipe for disaster, as far as he was concerned.

  “Well, Brian,” she said. “I’m excited to be your traveling companion for the coming weeks! You ready to hit the TITS?”

  Brian was too amazed by the little redhead in her sleek RPG bodysuit with its angular, glowing lines and Randomized Prestige Gameworld scrawled beneath the huge RPG lettering. She’d put her curly red hair into a ponytail and highlighted her eyes in some gorgeous way he couldn’t quite comprehend. She had a tablet in one hand.

  He blinked away the obvious fawning. “I think… I think we’ll forgo the TITS. Seems like a rather crass name to use for the tutorial system.”

  She winked. “Good call. You seem like a guy who’s prepared. Do you know where we’re headed?”

  “Oh yes,” he said. “Swords & Sorcerers.”

  She grinned at him, did a flourish, then twirled and tapped at her tablet. In a flash, he was dressed in a green cloak over leather traveling gear, with a scabbard buckled to each hip. A bow was slung over one shoulder. “A robin hood type? I think green suits you.”

  He could just melt from having this compact, beautiful woman compliment him. He was about to say yes, but remembered the research he’d done on the Gear system.

  “A wizard, actually. A mage. I’ve always wanted–”

  She didn’t give him time to finish. Instead she twirled and jabbed the tablet again. This time his traveling robes were purple, with gilded trim. Runes flared to life in purplish embroidery, and raced upward and down toward his feet. An incredibly long handlebar mustache sprouted out of his face and spilled down to his chest, and a large staff floated into his hand, one tipped with a chunk of gleaming greenish crystal.

  “There we go,” she said, and gave a low, appreciative whistle. “Yes, I see it now. And last but not least, you get to reskin for free. They don’t have any effect on the game or your dice rolls, but they sure look amazing.” She tapped the tablet several more times, and surrounded him with illusion copies of himself. Each one had a different height and skin color, and several were different fantasy species: orc, goblin, gnome, elf, dwarf, dragonkin, the list went on.

  “Just swipe asi– oh, you’ve got the hang of it already.”

  He swiped past several of the ones he didn’t want, and settled on a fit human wizard, tapped at it, and started by changing the hair from platinum blonde to a midnight blue, then over to gray. A wizard up in his years… like several hundred years. The beard took the place of that hideous mustache… it seemed right. He gave himself limitless crystal blue eyes, and darker skin, then lighter skin, then darker again. He’d really hated the way he looked for so long, it was kind of annoying to pick the same thing he’d always been. He would’ve gone for a hulking, brutish orc with one broken tusk, but would wait to see how things went with his captive audience Nicole.

  “Ooh I like it,” she said.

  Which begged the question: was she just being nice because she was contractually obligated to be, or did she really like him better like this? He certainly liked it more: the athletic build, the blemish-free face, and the slightly pointed ears were a nice touch.

  “Thanks,” he tried. “You… you look great too.”

  The corners of her eyes crinkled up as her grin spread. “Someone’s a charmer. You ready to rock, oh wise one?” she asked.

  Chapter 3- Ware Ye Wrecke thee Entyre Shoppe

  Brian took a deep breat
h and took in the enormity of the exquisite simulation surrounding them. He’d stepped into a futuristic conveyance of some kind, and out into a world so perfect, so awesome, all he could do was stare in wonder at the two hundred foot statues of heroes of legend, then at the waterfall cascading between them, and finally at the village clustered around the place where the river widened out and led toward the sea.

  He would have been satisfied with a plain village of squat, mortar and timber houses, with a small keep or cathedral in the center of town, ringed by a wooden fence. Instead, he was presented with a crystal-infused stone hedral matrix, a ring of stones floating above the ground and radiating a magic wall, or fence. It crackled like lightning and zapped the ground, or arced upward and met the crystals set into the tops of the taller buildings. Most of the buildings contained tiny floating, gemstone polyhedral matrices glowing like torches. Those were the ones anchored to the ground. Several of the buildings floated above the ground on more gem-studded enchanted stones.

  The sign above the gate was empty.

  “You want to name it?” she asked.

  “I– what?”

  “You’re here to game!” she gushed, and before he could supply a suitably badass name she typed in a command on the tablet. The words Franjy Ponny appeared over the gate, along with a peeled paint depiction of one of the glowing diamond-shaped stones.

  “Frangipani?” The houseplant?

  She giggled. “Who cares, right? In sci-fi they just called it Alzo, for Access Level Zero. Come on.” She took him by the hand, which, yes, and led him forward. As they neared the gate, several floating turrets swiveled to face him, manned by archers and a soldier bearing a huge horn.

  “State your names and business!”

  Nicole was in gleaming plate armor, inscribed with complex runes, but hadn’t reskinned her face. A holy symbol, like an ankh and a cross had had a baby, hung from her neck. On her back was a huge sword, running diagonally from shoulder down basically to the ground. Somehow it never scraped anything when she moved, or threatened to slice off his foot, because Nicole was a jumpy one. She hopped around in a half circle, clapping excitedly.

  As was her job, probably.

  No, another part of him said. She might be into this. She might be into you. The possibility existed, and therefore until such time as she gave him the no go, he would reach for the stars.

  “Ooohhh,” she whispered. “What’s your character’s name, oh wise one?”

  “Morelon the Learned,” he said, then repeated it for the gate guards. “I am Morelon the Learned! We seek entry into your fair town, that we might find repast and a place to rest our weary heads.” He turned to Nicole.

  “And I… am Nicole, Paladin of VIP Services.”

  Brian (Morelon) stared in shock, then reminded himself she was only a paladin for 2 weeks. Okay, that was okay. He had a week to woo her. Like every other aspect of his life, he’d find whatever fired up her dynamos and play to that. He would discover the existence of the loophole, examine the best exploit, and deliver. No doubt women were complicated, but if the overpopulation of the world had anything to say about it, they weren’t impossible to figure out.

  “Have you any doings with the evil lich queen Alsace Lorraine?”

  He looked at her, then back at the gate guards. “Uh, no?”

  “Are you here on behalf of the rampaging orcs of the badlands in the northwest, the terrifying Han-sell tribe, or the brutal Gret-ell tribe?”

  “No?”

  “Are you under the control of–”

  “No! We are here of our own accord, and mean no ill will,” he insisted.

  “We are well met, Morelon the Learned, and Nicole, valiant protector of VIP Services. You are welcome here in the town of Franjy Ponny. There is to be no death here, for the hedral matrix will know your true motives, and remove you from our fair village. You have thus been warned.”

  The two nodded and the guards allowed them through. About them spread the fair town of Franjy Ponny. And what a sight it was! There was a girl in a red hood, carrying a woven basket of goods no doubt intended for her grandmother’s house. A wolf in the stout clothing of a rogue followed after her.

  “That’s– that’s not exactly what I wanted,” Brian moped.

  “Trust me, Morelon,” Nicole replied. Her eyes flashed. “There are a thousand towns with a thousand themes, and we can tailor this to whatever it is that you dream, but you do not want to get rid of the fairy tale tropes. They’re hilarious fun. Have you ever wondered how the little pigs story would have ended if one of them had access to the spell lightning bolt?”

  Brian put up a finger, his mouth agape, and he brought it back down. That actually sounded hilarious.

  “In the kid simulations the fairy tales just play out their stories as the kids read them, but here, they get downright wacky.”

  A yell came from far ahead of them. Peering past thatched roofs and wealthier stone structures, Brian’s eyes fell upon a tower. A tower with a barred window. Some of the bars were missing, making it look a lot like his cousin Murray’s rotten grin, and through that gap had sped the assumedly outlaw Rapunzel, whose golden locks were tied around one bar and were being used to rappel down to safety and freedom.

  “Huh,” Brian stated, enraptured. Rapunzel shook her hair, which rippled and seemed to know it was supposed to untie from the bars. It then took a simply ridiculous amount of time to puddle around her feet. A few town’s guards came clattering around the corner, broadswords in hand and shields at their sides. The woman dropped to the ground and hissed at them, fleeing in the other direction. The way her hair flew behind her reminded him of a kite on a windy day. Nicole was right. Having some crazy fairytale types in the story was better.

  He turned to Nicole as the chase sped out of sight. “So what was she in for?”

  “I don’t know. I’m going to guess spurning some suitor. That’s a common one in Slightly Left of Center Earth. Some prince, adventurer or even hero wants to get married to a princess, damsel, whatever, and then tada, there’s a wonderful quest to embark upon!”

  “Huh,” he said again, thinking about the shapely posterior Rapunzel had shown on her way down. “I take it that rescuing fair maidens is a very popular pastime then?”

  “Second only to fighting dragons. But you have to get quite a few levels in you before you give that a try.” She blinked her eyes. “Though, I suppose as a VIP you might be able to afford just enough magical Gear to take care of one, given the right crew with the right abilities about you.”

  Brian felt his gaze drawn past the walls of the city, into the great forests of virgin green that rose at an incline to a frost peak above. In his mind’s eye he could see the caves, tunnels, ruins and even castles that such a tremendous mountain might hold. No great big cluster of white blocks in a formless blob inching across the New Mexico landscape, just jewel-green grasslands or emerald forests leading to misty purple mountains, as far as the eye could see. They’d really done their due diligence on this place.

  “This is so awesome,” he exclaimed. Morelon cheered over him, giving a wise and old huzzah. They both laughed. Was that a twinkle in Nicole’s eye?

  “So, Guide Paladin of VIP Services,” he said to her, proffering an arm and ignoring the pounding organ in his chest, “shall we?”

  “Gear then, adventuring fellows? That sounds like a tremendous plan, Morelon. Let’s.”

  ***

  Nicole told him of the world as they traipsed over the muck-laden cobbles of Franjy Ponny. It certainly sounded like a land of adventure. She spoke to him of the Great Forest of Grateforestria, Level 1 Access, chilly with snow in the winter, hot and buggy in the summer, and filled to the brim with beasties and quests any time of the year. She told him of the Mighty Spires of Miteyspyre, jutting up and through the last vestiges of the forest, and a Level Two Access platform that saw successes from only the greatest of heroes. And her voice rose dramatically as she informed him that past all of that was the
great Sea of Greatsea, Level Three Access, where the land was torn and splintered into a thousand islands, each one more dangerous than the last.

  “If you go far enough,” she whispered, Brian hanging onto every syllable, “it is said that you come to the Everbolt, a being scripted by a disgruntled programmer and thrown in to be undefeatable. The Everbolt was plugged into the world in such a way that either the company would have to format the entire setting, spending weeks backing up and moving data, then erasing it all, and moving the rest back in, or simply be left in place.”

  Morelon grabbed his beard and stroked it. It felt nice and soft in Brian’s fingers.

  “So, is the Everbolt real?” Brian asked her, his eyes round and full of nerd.

  “Pah,” she laughed. “I can’t tell you that! That’s some high-level access stuff that you will have to find through gameplay. Though let’s just say that if it did happen that’s probably why he’s at the very farthest place possible. They’d have to move him out or maneuver him over there somehow to get him away from the customers. Gamers don’t like not being able to kill stuff. Anyways, we’re here.”

  Morelon jolted in surprise. He’d been so lost in her world, her face, and her eyes that he hadn’t even really realized how far they’d come. The structure in front of them was made from planks of thick oak, and a sign hung from a jutting post above the front entrance. It read, “Ye Olde Weaponsmythe”. He beamed.

  “Yes. Hell yes! I can’t wait to do this!” He bounced up and down on his feet. Excitement colored his face.

  “So are we going to just hang out here for a while, or are we actually going to go inside?” Nicole asked. He laughed and gave her a bow.

  “So sorry, m’lady,” Morelon intoned in a semi-serious, very theatrical, voice. “After you, of course.” He pulled open the door. She entered and he followed.

  The place looked bigger on the inside than it did on the outside. It looked so full!