by Jason Cheek
Tension migraines were the absolute worst, I thought with a whimper as I staggered to the bedroom like a drunken sailor walking back to their ship after a night of partying. The only thing that kept me from falling down were the walls I was using for support along the way. Leaning against the doorframe to my bedroom, it took all of my focus to cross the gap to the bed. Gripping the footboard with a death grip as the room spun, I carefully crawled onto the mattress panting from the exertion, before dropping face-first into my pillow.
I’d been dealing with migraines for my entire life. By now, I’d gotten to the point where I could advert them ahead of time if I knew they were coming. Usually, it was with a preemptive strike using a combination of ibuprofen, meditation, and steaming hot showers. It was the only way I knew to loosen up the muscles in my back and neck that created the tension migraines in the first place.
There was a number of things that could bring them on. Julie and the emotional trauma she’d put me through was one. The lack of sleep from gaming too much was another. If I got at least four hours of sleep in a day, this typically wasn’t a problem. Anything less and I ran the risk of getting a tension migraine. Unfortunately, this was always a problem within the first several months of a new game, when I felt forced to put the extra hours into a game to take the lead. It was especially bad when my friends and I were being targeted by PKing asshats, especially when those PKing asshats were being led by my abusive ex-girlfriend.
With an inhuman effort, I lifted my head to disable the morning alarms that were set to go off in half an hour. My vision was starting to blur from the shooting pain as I tossed my smartphone to the nightstand next to the bed, before rolling onto my side. I vaguely remember pulling the covers up to my shoulders as I writhed in agony, until sleep finally overtook me sometime later.
Chapter One.Forty-Two
(Wednesday, May 7th / Day 17 of The World.)
Running Pod Diagnostic – Complete
Synchronizing controller units - Complete
Neuro Synchronization - Complete
Initializing virtual environment …
“What the hell is going on?” Zeven muttered under his breath, as he swiped away the system message about the list of Emergency Hot Fixes that V-MMORG had released for The World. While the information was somewhat interesting, that wasn’t his current concern as he looked around at the oval-topped stones surrounding him. Luckily for him, even though the sun hadn’t risen, it was still light out enough for his Low-Light Vision to trigger as he ground his fangs together in frustration. “Why am I logging into a graveyard?”
Feeling the cool morning breeze ruffle the fur of his bare backside and the frozen ice that he was sitting on permeating the thinner fur of his rear, Zeven hurriedly opened up his Character Sheet as a sinking feeling began spreading out from the pit of his stomach. His fears were confirmed a second later when the system window popped open before his eyes.
Zeven Al'Zaric – Level 29
Difficulty: Nightmare Start
Badger-Kin: House of Bruic Diongmhalta
Class: Essence Shaman
Profession Title: Spirit Hunter (Spirit Shaman)
“How in the fucking hell,” Zeven swore angrily, “did I lose a whole fucking level?”
Completing the last part of the Nightmare quest had brought him up to level 30, Zeven thought sourly, as verified by his Spirit Guardian spell being no longer listed under his spell list. Shaking his head in disgust, he closed his Character Sheet and opened up the System Window that listed all of the damage he’d dealt and received during his time in the game. He found what he was looking for a moment later:
You have been killed by Xissiauzzix the Shadow-Fang Assassin!
It was conveniently listed right under the message that he’d been automatically sent to the graveyard after not choosing to return to his body at the end of the five minute time-out. Closing his eyes in frustration, he counted down from ten trying to not lose his temper about getting kicked out of the game and losing a level because of a fucking freak of nature ice storm hitting in April of all months. Expelling an explosive breath, he scrolled down to study the damage meter recording of the battle:
Xissiauzzix the Shadow-Fang Assassin claws you for 120 points of damage.
Xissiauzzix the Shadow-Fang Assassin claws you for 100 points of damage.
Xissiauzzix the Shadow-Fang Assassin claws you for 110 points of damage.
Xissiauzzix the Shadow-Fang Assassin claws you for 125 points of damage.
Xissiauzzix the Shadow-Fang Assassin bites you for 180 points of damage.
You have hacked Xissiauzzix the Shadow-Fang Assassin for 165 points of damage.
Zeven stared at the messages unhappily. Xissiauzzix the Shadow-Fang Assassin is a nasty Mini-Boss that has been the bane of his existence since starting the game. The level 37 Elite Shadow Shank was a massive black panther with six legs and a maw that could chomp a Badger-Kin in half. On top of that, it was highly aggressive and could aggro a player from half a mile away in the middle of a forest. Zeven had firsthand experience of that three different times as he traveled around his area of operations to complete his Nightmare quest.
Supposedly, the Mini-Boss wandered the entire northern peninsula of the Beast-Kin area. From Zeven’s experience, the nasty bastard seemed to mostly hang around the outskirts of the city of Lonsalindel. Though he’d always managed to escape its clutches while he was completing his Nightmare quest, the fucker must have come across him after he’d lost connection during the storm. Knowing how The World always seemed to be trying to fuck him over, Zeven thought, as he used the shaft of his halberd to climb to his clawed feet. That piece of shit Mini-Boss was probably still in the area waiting for him to return to his body.
“Fffuuuccckkk!” Zeven roared to the sky in a fit of unjust outrage as he let out all the frustration that had been building up inside of him like a pressure cooker for the past week. The savage and powerful animalistic fury of his Badger-Kin avatar seemed to connect with him on some primal instinctual level that he didn’t fully understand as he released the pent-up feelings raging inside of his soul.
In those fifteen seconds before he stopped bellowing, Zeven released the anger at losing the promising career of a research and development Navy officer, the helplessness of being a cripple that couldn’t even clear the ice from his doorstep, the shame at being disfigured, and the lack of confidence that came with being an amputee. It carried away his frustration at being forced to stay in the real world with his debilitating injury until his internet connection could be reestablished and the unfairness of it all for losing his achievement of reaching level 30.
Dropping his arms to his sides, Zeven panted heavily as he leaned his forehead against the halberd in his hands. Looking around the barren graveyard with a fury beating in his heart that he’d never felt before, he silently swore that he’d rip Xissiauzzix the Shadow-Fang Assassin a new asshole if the Mini-Boss dared to come after him again. Whatever it took, he wasn’t going to be life’s punching bag anymore. With that thought in mind, Zeven drew himself up and began casting buffs for battle. Even though he was all but naked wearing a loincloth, his fur was almost thick enough to equal weak leather armor in and of itself, but his buffs would add to that even more. Spirit Armor, Might of a Bear, Agility of a Squirrel, Stamina of a Wolf, Bark Skin, Speed of a Hare, Nature’s Protection, and the Strike of an Adler.
Even though he’d only just gotten the Spirit Shaman tree, Zeven could already tell from the first two spells he could cast that it was going to enhance his Essence Shaman abilities nicely as he checked over the increased protection he’d gotten from casting double armor spells. His fur coat now had the strength of decent boiled-leather armor. Well, he would until he took five hundred points of damage. Then the spells would dissipate. He just hoped that the Spirit Shaman tree had a shielding spell similar to that of Nature’s Protection. With double shielding and armor spells, he’d really be able to take a beating if needed, he th
ought with an ugly smile.
On top of the armor buff, the Attribute boosts that came with his Essence Shaman class buffs were more than decent. Each buff added twenty-five points to its respective Attribute which also increased his speed and strike buffs while additionally giving a twenty-five percent increase to movement and attack speed. Meaning, that he’d hit that much harder with his melee attacks, especially once he’d added his last buff. Focusing on the Spirit Lochaber of Chieftain Diongmhalta, Zeven cast Soul Biter on the halberd’s broad blade as it began to glow with a ghostly light. The enchantment added no additional damage to whatever it was applied to, but it did allow the weapon to ignore an enemy’s armor class by twenty-five percent!
With that complete, Zeven’s clawed fingers took up the halberd with a white-knuckled grip as he orientated himself to the pull of his gravestone and took off at a run. It didn’t matter that he was naked except for a rucksack of camping gear and food rations on his back. It didn’t matter that he only had a thin loincloth around his waist between him and the wilds. He was ready for whatever The World had to throw at him as he raced through the trees with his body whole once again and his senses alert for enemies.
As halberds went, the Spirit Lochaber of Chieftain Diongmhalta was a handy weapon. The two-foot curved axe blade was on one-side of the shaft which came to a point on the other end. Between shaft and blade, the weapon was around six-feet long and fit in his large hands easily. It was surprisingly effective with close in melee fights and long enough to act as a decent spear or small polearm. At the same time, it was an extremely complex weapon that took a lot of practice in its various combat forms to use effectively. On top of that, the weapon design closely matched that of traditional Scottish Lochaber halberd. Not that, that in itself was surprising, since the whole Badger-Kin culture seemed to be loosely based off of many of the Scottish Clans you would have found in Earth’s past. Not that Zeven particularly minded one way or another. The culture in general seemed to resonate with his soul. Besides that, he cut a mean form when wearing a kilt.
Zeven couldn’t help the toothy grin that came to his black lips as he began to focus more intently on his surroundings. The closer he came to his corpse, the higher the chance he had of being attacked. Instead of feeling dread at the possibility of taking on a Mini-Boss nearly naked, he felt like his chest was ready to burst at the adrenaline pumping through his system. He didn’t know if it was the bestial nature of his Badger-Kin’s body that was causing this reaction or what, but the savage power flowing through his veins filled him with a confidence he’d never felt before in real life. The sleek muscles of his thick frame rippled under his coarse fur as his ears swiveled to take in the various sounds around him. Maybe, he should have been being more cautions or maybe have taken a more circuitous route through the underbrush to reach his body, but, honestly, he was impatient as hell to get on with his game … and back to his clan.
His mind came to a halt at the mixed emotions in his breast when thinking of his Badger-Kin Clan. You would have thought he wouldn’t have connected with them so fully or accepted them as actual people due to their animal-like appearance or their digital nature, but that couldn’t have been further from the truth. Zeven incredulously shook his head. Elder Tor’Narc, Zeven’s companion Nahimana, Honey, and the rest of the Clan were all so real. Each of his people had their own unique and distinctive personalities and qualities. It might be crazy to say, but, in many ways, they seemed just as real as anyone he’d ever severed together with in the Navy.
Pushing those confusing thoughts away, Zeven forced his mind to focus on the task at hand as he crouched down at the base of a particularly wide tree at the edge of the meadow. Bracing his bare back against the trunk with his axe at the ready, his silvery eyes searched for the white gravestone in the tall grass. He found it a few seconds later, twenty-five feet ahead of his current location. Giving one last scan of the area in search of the Mini-Boss, he reached out with his mind to trigger the gravestone.
Collecting your corpse from a gravestone was one of the weirdest parts about playing in an MMO for Zeven. Better, he guessed, than having to actually loot your own corpse every time you died. That would have been creepy as hell, to say the least. Even imagining what that might have looked like sent a cold shiver down his spine. A freaking horror show and a half, he thought with a snort, as his gear appeared in a kind of baggy on the ground before him.
The whole thing was kind of a nifty process. The temporary bag would disappear once it was empty, but it would also be pulled back into the gravestone once five minutes had gone by even if everything hadn’t been removed. That, or if the player died again during the recovery process. Either way, the gravestone would remain where it was until the player returned and collected all of their gear at some later time.
Setting the halberd down, Zeven quickly began equipping the most useful and easiest items to put on first. His nimble claws quickly snatched up the Torc of the Bear and put it around his neck, before slipping on the various enchanted rings that he’d been wearing. He was just sliding on the Arm Bands of the Wolf when his ears picked up the sound he’d dreaded since he started playing. A savage growl ripped from his lips as he snatched up his halberd and sprang away from the trunk.
That nearly instinctual reaction was the only thing that saved Zeven’s life as Xissiauzzix the Shadow-Fang Assassin materialized out of the shadows directly above him. Without his back being braced against the trunk, the Mini-Boss would have appeared directly behind him and attacked. Even so, a pair of savage claws ripped the Badger-Kin’s magic shield away while Zeven twisted around in midair and swung the halberd with all his might.
“Rrraaawww!” The Mini-Boss’ terrible roar of pain hit Zeven like a physical strike as the axe-blade sliced clean through one of the monster’s middle paws. Though, he was still sent tumbling as the other claw ripped through his Spirit Armor like a hot knife through butter. The Badger-Kin had barely come to a stop when he saw the massive creature lunging at him with its fang-filled maw for the finishing attack. Zeven’s Speed of the Hare and Strike of the Adler buffs kicked in as he threw himself to the side while whipping the halberd’s shaft up. In the blink of an eye, the steel point ripped through the monster’s abdomen, gutting it from sternum to groin as the Mini-Boss’ rear claws struck the Badger-Kin and sent him flying.
“Gggaaahhh!” Zeven wordlessly shrieked, as his Bark Skin was ripped away and five deep slices shredded the skin of his back. He slammed to a bone wrenching stop at the base of another tree as Xissiauzzix the Shadow-Fang Assassin howled in agony. Zeven’s eyes barely had time to register the Stun flashing in his HUD when the six-legged Shadow Panther appeared before him and swatted him away like a house cat batting away a stuffed mouse.
Zeven’s body came back under his control once again as he flopped to a stop in the center of the meadow. Acting on his training alone, he spun around swinging the Spirit Lochaber of Chieftain Diongmhalta with all his strength as Xissiauzzix the Shadow-Fang Assassin appeared directly behind him and lunged with his oversized fanged maw wide open. The look of complete shock that came to the monster’s face as the heavy axe head sank into its outstretched neck would have been comical if Zeven wasn’t hurting so bad. Already his Hit Points were below half, but that didn’t stop him from spinning the shaft of the halberd around to stab the Mini-Boss through the eye with all of his body weight completely behind the lunge.
Though the double strike wasn’t enough to kill Xissiauzzix the Shadow-Fang Assassin, the asshole knew he’d been hit, Zeven thought with satisfaction as its hit points noticeably dropped. Not that his thoughts were that logical. The information was registered as more of a third-party observer watching the action just as a blood-red haze came over his vision. With a bestial howl, the Badger-Kin launched himself at the Mini-Boss as it rolled to its remaining five legs.
Time was meaningless as they hacked at each other non-stop for nearly a minute. Zeven couldn’t have even begun to remember the blo
ws they traded as he fought for his life. It wasn’t until the Spirit Lochaber of Chieftain Diongmhalta was smashed from his numb hands that the Badger-Kin came back to himself. By then, his hit points were in the low one hundreds, while the Mini-Boss’ was over five hundred.
Seeing the superior look on Xissiauzzix the Shadow-Fang Assassin’s bloody face at his helpless enemy, something snapped inside of Zeven. All the frustrations of the last year rose to the forefront of his thoughts as the Shadow Panther disappeared before his eyes in a puff of shadowy-like magic smoke. If he weren’t feeling so unhinged, Zeven would have snorted in disdain at the obvious intent of the Mini-Boss’s finishing move. He knew as well as the creature did that there was no way he could reach his halberd in time to protect himself. Normally, that would have meant the fight was over and he’d have lost, but then Zeven did something that he’d never thought to try before.
Turning around for the Stealth Attack he knew was coming, Zeven cast Soul Biter on his body as his fangs and claws began to glow with a white-ghostly light. With a wordless bellow, he lunged for the shadowy-blackness that was just forming in the air before him as Xissiauzzix the Shadow-Fang Assassin suddenly appeared directly before him in mid-spring. A look of absolute shock flashed across the Shadow Panther’s fury face as Zeven’s jaws bit into its neck and Zeven’s own claws ripped into the Mini-Boss’ skin.
Zeven’s feeble attack was enhanced that much more by the monster’s own lunge as the Badger-Kin used that momentum to swing onto the Mini-Boss’ back. Cold fury boiled in Zeven’s blood as he tore into the monster with his natural weapons like some primitive savage, fighting for their life against an alpha predator. Only, unlike a naked human, the Badger-Kin’s natural weapons were fearsome indeed. Ripping out mouthfuls of flesh with his own fangs, Zeven tasted the monster’s blood in his mouth as he hit a vein. The scent of victory drove him on while his claws shredded the Shadow Panther’s neck as he bathed in the monster’s hot blood. There was no thought of disgust or defeat as he let out all of the pent up rage inside of him, before collapsing from exhaustion and blood loss as his hit points dropped below twenty.
