Party Hard

by David Petrie

  Farn, who was recovering from her earlier blunder, pushed herself out of the sand and drew her weapon, baring her teeth as she joined the fight. Max didn't recognize her sword as he had her gauntlet. It wasn't particularly long, but what it lacked in reach, it seemed to make up for in power. Its sturdy blade sat in a reinforced hilt with a grip resembling a set of brass knuckles. The sword had an extended handle that gave her the option of wielding it with both hands, although the blade was too short to call it a bastard sword. It wasn't flashy, but still, it carried an aura of strength and ferocity. Similarly, Farnsworth herself seemed to radiate power now that she had gotten serious. Her eyes burned with an intensity that Max hadn't noticed before. Even Kira had paused to watch as she got into position.

  The Shield wore a long, sleeveless tunic of light gray cloth that split on the sides of her waist and tapered off in the front and back. Below that, the black fabric of a pair of loose fitting pants billowed out before being gathered up tight into the tops of her knee-high boots, a lining of white fur peeking out where they met. A thick sash of faded blue cloth wrapped her middle, circling her hips multiple times before tying off in the front where the excess hung over the ends of her tunic. Her leather armor fit snugly around her back and abdomen, a metal plate covering her chest. She wore the collar of her tunic flipped up so that it stuck out from the top of her armor, the light material sitting in contrast against the dark skin of her throat. She let out a growl as she darted forward. Apparently, she intended to pull her weight or die trying.

  Farn pounded a fist against her breastplate and yelled, “I’m right here you overgrown nope rope!”

  Ginger stumbled with a snort at the ridiculous taunt while Kira exploded with giddy laughter.

  The words hit the beast like a blow to the head, and it focused its attention on Farn in response. She lifted her left arm in front to block the hit that was coming. Unlike her right, which she had kept bare, her left shoulder and upper arm were protected by a few overlapping pieces of metal and leather. They looked tough but were still light enough to allow for easy movement. She braced with one leg and activated her gauntlet. The heavy looking steel glove covered her hand and upper wrist, its hinged fingers making her fist look much larger than it was. It hummed to life as the shield generator located on her forearm flipped open, forming a shining X at the back of her wrist as it rotated into place. Blue energy poured out from its center, creating a transparent barrier of protection. The snake lunged, only to be deflected and shoved to the side by a well-timed parry. She taunted the beast again and strafed to the side to remain in its view while making a point to focus her sight on its fangs and not its eyes.

  Max watched from his place on the ladder, an impressed smile creeping across his face. It was what he had been waiting for. Alastair was right. She was good. In fact, she looked like she could block the thing all day. Although, just defending wasn't going to kill the creature, unless it could die of old age, which he didn't consider an option. He paused and looked for an opening. Seconds later, he saw his moment. He brought his legs up and sprang off with all his strength. In the same motion, he drew his pistols. They didn't have all day.

  Farnsworth stood, stunned as Max soared overhead.

  He flipped in mid-air, taking aim at the basilisk. His pistols barked one after another until the sounds blurred together. He landed in a perfect action movie crouch, guns crossed against his chest as if he'd practiced it. The snake reeled from the attack, losing most of its health after being hit by every shot. Afterward, Max just stood there as if he wasn’t even paying attention. Farn didn’t know much about guns, but she could tell at least one was empty from the position of its slide.

  The snake recovered, flicking its head back at him as he placed a spent magazine in the pouch at his waist.

  Farn struck its tail with her sword to get its focus back on her where it belonged. That should have been enough, but he had dealt too much damage too fast. She would need to get between them to protect him, but it was too late. She wasn’t close enough.

  For an instant, it looked like Alastair had made a mistake in trusting Max. The Fury was breaking one of the most basic rules of combat. He had ignored his team. Even worse, he was showing off.

  The snake was already coiling to attack.

  Thoughts raced through her head as her eyes darted around the scene for a way to help. Her gaze stopped hard at Ginger and Kira, who were just standing there doing nothing by the river. The Coin actually had her journal out, and the fairy was dipping a foot in the water. Farn furrowed her brow, and she looked back to Max. That was when she noticed his expression. It was calm, more so than any player she’d ever seen.

  Fangs streaked toward him, and the basilisk came to an abrupt stop, its body flopping off balance, its hiss choked off. Fangs scraped against the pistol that Max had shoved down the beast's throat as it lunged. Its eyes went wide in some kind of artificial panic, pupils struggling to find him. Max just stood there, his eyes closed as he said two words, "Eat this." With a twitch of his finger and a muffled bang, the creature went limp, smoke wafting from its mouth.

  Kira hopped past Farn and leaned over to look at the fallen serpent. "Nice. I didn't even have to heal anyone." She collected the item drops, her bare feet in the sand next to the giant serpent-like it wasn’t even there while its body faded to bones.

  Farnsworth couldn't help but think back to the conversation she had overheard in the tavern’s back room earlier about why Alastair had chosen the pair. There was even term for it, The Nightmare Effect. She had heard of it before, although many users still claimed it was a myth despite the evidence to the contrary.

  Of the first Nightmares present at launch, which had been named after historical figures, Rasputin, who represented destruction, had been the hardest. He had seemed almost unkillable. His damage was insane, and he was invulnerable except for brief moments between his attacks. Over time, the absurd challenge of the fight gained players enormous amounts of skill. Provided they did more than just stockpile powerful items to get through it as Alastair had mentioned. Farn, herself, had even found that it improved her reaction speeds. But in her time playing Noctem, she had never witnessed the Nightmare Effect on the level that Max had just displayed. She let out a quiet, "Woah," as he wiped venom from his gun.

  Seeing his pistols drawn for the first time, she noticed that even his weapons weren't like anything she had seen before either. They almost looked modern. Most firearms in the game were fantasy based, all covered with filigree, pearl handles, and random gears. His were matte black with simple wood grips bearing the icon of a skull. Small text engraved on the sides, naming the weapons. Mary on one, and Anne on the other. Each was tipped with a heavy compensator, giving them an aggressive look. They fit him well, almost like they were forged for his use only.

  "Are those contract items?" she blurted out without thinking.

  The Nightmares were powerful, and in turn, so were the rewards for defeating one. They came in the form of a contract, awarded to one party member who was chosen at random. To make matters worse, any player who completed a fight could never attempt it again, whether they were picked or not. This meant that for one player to form a contract, they must be chosen and that the five people that helped them get it got nothing, not even experience points. On top of that, the contract wasn't free. Upon defeating a Nightmare, the player would be asked to make an offering as a sacrifice. It could be anything. Depending on who was chosen and what they offered, the results were unpredictable. The reward could be overpowered, balanced, or too valuable to even use. Sometimes it could have no purpose at all.

  Max looked down at his weapons. "The girls? Yeah. Got them from the Rackham fight. The critical damage is pretty good, and they scale off my dexterity really well."

  Farn thought about the weapons, not seeing what made them special. Her sword was also a contract item with similar stats, but it at least had an additional ability to make it stand out, even if she didn’t use it m
uch. If anything, his guns were convenient more than anything else, since the dex scaling would let them grow in damage as he leveled, making it so he would never need to replace them. She assumed he was leaving out a detail. "I didn't know anyone had beaten Rackham yet other than the usual houses."

  "Oh, we did that one a while ago. When was that?" He looked to Kira.

  "Had to be last year, I think."

  Farn took a moment to process the information. "That would be just after the Dead Men expansion came out. You beat it that fast?"

  "We beat all the Nightmares from the pirate expansion. Well, actually, we've beaten all the Nightmares released so far," Kira added over her shoulder, dipping her toes in the river again.

  At that, Farn tried her best to keep her jaw from hitting the ground. "Seriously?"

  Kira shrugged without offering more.

  Out of curiosity, Farn tapped the tattoo of Celtic knotwork that sat on the underside of her wrist to reopen her party readout. The fight had ended so fast that she hadn’t looked at anyone’s health, but now, she had to know what kind of players could speak so casually about fighting Nightmares. Her previous efforts of keeping her jaw off the ground failed as the bold lines of dark black ink filled in her party’s names. “Fifty hit Points!”

  Kira jumped like a startled animal. “What?”

  “How do you only have fifty HP?” Farn screwed up her eyes. “That’s how much I had at level one.”

  Kira dismissed Farn’s concern with a wave of her hand. “I’m a fairy, so my constitution stat started with a soft-cap. Putting points into health doesn’t do enough to make it worth it.”

  “So, you what, just didn’t upgrade it?”

  Max burst out laughing. “Oh no, she started at ten hit points.”

  “That’s right.” Kira puffed out her chest with pride. “I put a whole four points in to get myself up to fifty.”

  “And why did you do that?” Max asked, still laughing.

  Kira deflated, glaring back at him. “Because I stubbed my toe on a door frame and died … twice.”

  Ginger snorted a laugh, setting Max off again.

  “It’s not that funny.” Kira stomped one foot in the sand.

  Farn just stared ahead at the little Breath mage, trying to comprehend what she was hearing. “So what did you put your points in?”

  The fairy tilted her head back and forth. “Mostly focus and wisdom for the mana and healing potency. The rest went to learning spell glyphs and agility to get my flight speed up. Oh, and I threw a little in luck for fun.”

  Max wiped a tear from his eye and settled down. “All kidding aside, she should be one of the most powerful Breath mages in the game in terms of raw healing ability. At least, that was how the math worked out when we planned it back when we started.”

  “As long as a slight breeze doesn’t take her out,” Ginger added.

  Kira puffed back up. “Not really. A good party should be able to keep me safe, especially with a good Shield watching out for me.”

  Farn threw up her hands in resignation. “I guess I have my work cut out for me.”

  “You’ll do fine.” Max kicked at the basilisk’s skull with his boot. “Hell, you handled this thing better than most.”

  “Speaking of snakes. There are more of them around here,” Ginger reminded while herding Max and Kira back toward the ladder with a shooing motion, "And as fun as all this is, we should probably get moving before we have to fight another one."

  Chapter Eight

  Boards creaked under Farn's feet as she climbed the stairs beyond the ladder that lead up to the city, some so loud that she was sure one would break at any moment. Tartarus was like one giant tree house built by an inebriated child. Actually, speaking of drunk children, they passed an open-air bar with a few patrons arguing and slurring their speech.

  Alcohol worked the same way as most things in Noctem. The sensation of being drunk was pulled from each of the players' memories. As long as they had been drunk at some point, it had the same effect in game. Supposedly, this kept it from working on those who were under age for the most part since they lacked the memory data to load, or at least, they should lack that information. For everyone else, it was time to get wasted with no consequences. Whether that was positive or negative was out for debate. To Farnsworth, it was just a fact. A fact that was demonstrated when two players knocked over a table and smashed through the railing in front of them. The pair fell over the edge, one of them dropping a dagger as they went. It fell with a solid thunk as it stuck into the floorboards at an angle. A distant splash could be heard from below.

  Farn froze from the shock of what had happened.

  Max, on the other hand, didn’t skip a beat as he continued on his way, only stopping for a second to nudge the fallen dagger over the edge with his foot. In a way, it was the honorable thing to do. The weapon should remain with its owner, Farn acknowledged, starting to understand how the place worked a little more.

  As they made their way up the next flight of stairs, one step broke part way under her foot, causing her to fall against an uncomfortably thin railing with nothing but the river below to fill her view. She recovered from the stumble, her face blank with terror.

  In response, Kira hung back, taking a place at her side. "Don't worry. If you fall, I'll catch you." She gave the Shield a gentle smile.

  "It's true. She's good at being there when you need her," Max added over his shoulder.

  Farn looked at them both, a warm feeling in her chest from the trust that they seemed to share in each other. It was actually really sweet. They make a nice couple, she thought as she began to feel like a third wheel.

  At least she wasn’t alone with Ginger strolling along behind her, just as much an extra wheel as she was. The Coin snapped in a fresh spool of wire into her wrist launcher, causing Farn to look back at the sound. For a moment, she accidentally made eye contact with the stunning woman. Then she made it worse by freezing like that for a second without saying anything before turning back. She cringed at her own actions. Nice, Farn, now she probably thinks your special. She couldn’t help but be reminded of all the times she had embarrassed herself in the real world. Like with every store clerk she had ever interacted with. She tried to shake off the thought as the group climbed a few more levels of precariously placed structures.

  Cheers and curse words met her ears when they arrived at a large square cage that sat on a platform, surrounded by walkways filled well beyond capacity with spectators. Inside, a Coin player darted around the makeshift arena, striking at a Shield class, getting a lucky strike through his defenses every now and then.

  “Well, that makes sense,” she whispered under her breath. Tartarus was a city of considerably shady nature, so of course, it would have cage fights. That much should have been obvious.

  Max made his way to a raised platform that looked down on the event and approached a Whip class player with a large ferret wearing a tiny chest plate and lounging across his shoulders.

  "Maximum Damage, you want in?" the Whip asked.

  "Has Kegan been up yet?"

  "No. He's up next though. You should see the guy he's matched with; it's gonna be hilarious." He laughed.

  The ferret seemed to laugh as well, but that might have been Farn's imagination.

  "Ha, I bet. Give me twenty on Kegan," Max threw into the mix.

  "Seriously?" The guy raised an eyebrow. "He's up against a Rage."

  "Oh, I know. It's going to be hilarious," Max repeated with a smug grin.

  The Whip shrugged, adding, "It's your money." He held out a worn, leather-bound book and opened it to a blank page in the middle. He allowed Max to place a hand flat on the paper, a line of text appearing on the page.

  Farn grew suspicious. "A portable payment ledger. How does he have that?" she asked Kira, leaning close so as not to disturb the questionable transaction going down in front of her.

  Kira leaned in to meet her and held a hand in front of her mouth to keep q
uiet. "He runs a business in one of the other cities. I forget which. But he got the book through it. He just uses it to make a little extra managing the fights here."

  "There are arenas in the other cities. Why don't the duelists just go there?"

  "The arenas in the cities place bets in credits, here you can place them in dollars. Hence, the payment ledger," Kira explained.

  "What?" Farn raised her voice, drawing the attention of a few of the spectators around them. "Sorry." She quieted down. "Isn't that … kind of illegal?" Her shoulders fell when she realized how naive she sounded.

  "Not really. It's really more of a gray area," the fairy said, looking up as if the answer was hanging above her head. "The laws haven't really caught up with the technology in some ways. They'll probably crack down eventually, but until they do …" She finished her sentence by gesturing at the cage.

  A mixture of cheers and groans filled the air as the fight within was coming to an end.

  Inside, the Coin had gotten behind his opponent and slipped a narrow dagger into his back, far enough so that the tip stuck out of the Shield's chest. The flesh around the end of the blade glowed red in place of blood, and the large man winced. Some spectators watched through their inspectors to view a green bar hovering over the man's head as it dropped down to a third remaining. Others just eyed the class emblem on the back of his hand as it faded from black to red. The attack had missed the Shield's heart, which might have killed him outright no matter what level he was. Still, it was quite damaging, since it counted as a backstab, delivering a hefty critical damage bonus. The Coin laughed as he twisted the knife. A grin crept over his face as victory fell into his grasp. Then, just as the Coin drew back his knife to repeat the strike, the Shield, who had stood helplessly until now, thrust back an elbow, throwing his attacker off balance. He rushed backward, not giving the Coin a chance to recover as he flipped his sword under his right arm and drove the blade through the shocked man behind him. The strike hit home, delivering maximum damage and destroying the Coin's smaller health pool. The Shield dislodged his sword and shoved backward with his shoulder against the Coin, leaving him to fall in a crumpled mess on the floor. His limp body lay still for a moment, then it shimmered and dissipated into particles of white light that drifted off into the air like snow falling from the ground up.