Heroes of Last Resort (The Other Guys Book 1)

by JK Galioto

  Tony seemed to notice Jack’s sudden lack of movement and stepped forward, reaching out a hand to steady him. “Err, this never goes the way I hope it would.” He shifted briefly and suddenly a young Michael J. Fox appeared before Jack, wearing an outdated business suit and tie. He held a coffee mug with a “Reagan/Bush ’84” logo and gave Jack one of his patented lopsided grins. “Better?”

  “Alex P. Keaton?” Jack asked, thinking of the long hours he had spent watching Family Ties. “I don’t curse, but as situations go, this would be a good time for it!” What in the Chris Angel Mindfreak is going on here?

  Still seeing the confused expression on Jack’s face, Alex blurred suddenly and changed into an elderly gnome, three feet in height, complete with a long red wizard’s robe. The gnome then hobbled slowly toward him.

  “Dungeon Master?” Head swaying, Jack dropped to his knees, placing them at nearly eye level, then instinctually threw his arms around the creature as his awake mind tried to catch up to his sleeping mind. Dungeon Master squirmed in his grasp, and after a blast of hot wind, he was no longer there, but instead sitting on the large log in the clearing.

  “Is this form more pleasing to you?” he asked, taking out a dark brown pipe and putting tobacco in it. “I am still working on a way to ease the passage from your world into this world, and using treasured memories from your past made sense. I had to try something. Everyone from your world either goes crazy or their head explodes,” he explained as he put away his tobacco. He extended his pointer finger, muttered a couple words under his breath, and suddenly his pipe was lit. He sucked in a long breath through the pipe and leaned back on an errant branch that suddenly sprouted from the log.

  “Gotcha!” Jack cracked, pointing at the Dungeon Master’s pipe. “You went off script, doing something that can’t be from my memory! Dungeon Master was from a kid’s show called Dungeons and Dragons, and he would never smoke. Wait . . .” Jack said as his ears finally caught up with his mouth. “What did you mean about the soldiers going crazy and their heads exploding—I assume that is hyperbole?” He didn’t fully understand this strange creature in front of him, but at this point he was done fighting logic. He had a feeling that fighting the strangeness of this place led to insanity or worse, death. This unreality was getting real.

  Dungeon Master chortled a bit at that and slowly blew out smoke rings, changing one of them into the shape of Venger, a vampire mage on a flying black stallion, and another into Tiamat, a huge multi-headed dragon. Tiamat chased Venger, and they began exchanging volleys of smoke arrows and miniature fireballs. “You know what happens when you assume, hmm? You make an ass out of Uma Thurman.” He continued chuckling, and Jack let out a laugh of his own.

  “First of all, I don’t think that’s how the saying goes. Second, how in the heck do you know Uma Thurman? You mean to tell me that is one of my treasured memories? I mean, I like Kill Bill as much as the next person, but it’s not a treasured memory,” Jack said with a smile. “Who or what are you?” he continued, moving to stand a few feet in front of the diminutive form. The Venger and Tiamat smoke rings continued to battle across the empty glade, with Tiamat getting the upper hand.

  “My name is Dungeon Master, your guide in the world of Dungeons and Dragons!” Music accompanied his words, very recognizable as the last notes from the TV show.

  “Okay, Dungeon Master,” Jack said, still playing along. “What is this place and why am I here?”

  In a blink of an eye, Dungeon Master turned into Morpheus from The Matrix, complete with signature long black trench coat and round, mirrored sunglasses that hugged the bridge of his nose. “You are here because your world is being attacked. You are here because if you do not stop the forces arrayed against you, your world will be destroyed and remade into a colony planet. Finally, you are here because this world needs a champion. And you are late.” He said all of this in Morpheus’s deep voice, his mirrored sunglasses never leaving Jack’s face.

  “Is this the part of the story where you offer me the choice of a red or blue pill?” he asked, returning the stare. “And what do you mean I am late? We’ve sent dozens of soldiers through the portal—what have you done to them?” Jack retorted, pulling his gaze from Morpheus to look around the meadow.

  “I have done nothing to them,” he stated solemnly. “However, when introduced to this world and the quirks associated herein, their minds snapped, instantly killing most of them. A precious few managed to accept the process, but their minds were still too rigid to do anything but fall into madness.”

  “Surely you could have helped them! You must be able to do more than blow smoke rings and shape change!”

  With a look of impotent regret, the form-shifting being broke eye contact for a moment and then continued, “Unfortunately, I could not, and don’t call me Shirley. There are rules that even I must adhere to, as much as I may want to help you and your world. If your kind is unable to accept the changes that this world enforces, it has . . . unpleasant consequences,” Morpheus responded, miming his head exploding.

  “They didn’t know what they were doing. They were just trying to protect and serve their country. Just like I am,” Jack said, his voice a hoarse whisper. Fear, which to this moment had been strangely absent, started creeping into him, like weeds finding hold on fertile land.

  “I am sorry, but I did not create the rules of this place. Regardless, if your world cannot field champions, it will perish. Enough chit-chat. Are you ready? I really hate this part.” Quicker than thought, Morpheus stood before him and placed his hands on his head.

  “Ready for wha—” Jack started to ask before reality fractured with a sudden jolt. Thousands of scattered images assaulted his vision and his brain felt like it was on fire. And then, as soon as it started, it stopped, and everything was black. Before Jack could panic, he heard a commanding female voice inside his head.

  “Welcome to Rigara, Champion of Earth. You are the first Earthling to successfully survive the rebirth process with your mind intact. Your Earth stats have successfully transferred to your character sheet. You can review your character sheet by focusing on the icon in the bottom left of your interface.”

  Trying to soak this all in, Jack did what he always did in new or tough situations; he just went with it. He glanced at the icon the voice mentioned, and a transparent box pulled up prominently into his vision.

  Name: Jack. Heritage: TBD. Class: TBD. Level: 1 (0/100). Sex: Male. Height: 5’9”. Weight: 230 lbs. Hair: Brown. Eyes: Blue. Fame: Level 1: Unknown (0/100).

  Hit Points: 9. HP Regeneration: 2/hour, outside of combat.

  Stamina: 7. Stamina Regeneration: 2/minute.

  Spell Points: 19. SP Regeneration: 2/minute.

  Jack took a moment to review his character sheet. While his brother had told him that the few returned soldiers mentioned character sheets, stats, and health, it was surreal to see himself personified as a bunch of stats and numbers. He was horrified at his mediocre physical stats, and absently rubbed his rounded belly. Horrified, but not surprised, not really. Mindless workouts weren’t his thing and playing in a band where the main form of payment was free drinks hadn’t exactly kept his beer gut in check. He was, however, pleasantly surprised by his charisma and luck attributes. Hit points and stamina seemed to be based on vitality, although he wasn’t sure why they were different values. His spell points were clearly derived from intelligence somehow, but he didn’t know how his regeneration was calculated.

  The female voice from earlier was back in his head. “Long ago, your planet was home to what you consider mythical races. Over the ages, those races diminished as the race of man emerged. However, I scanned your DNA and found traces of two different races in your ancestry. You may now choose a heritage.” Immediately, two translucent boxes full of text appeared in his vision.

  Wood Elf: Long-lived, the wood elves were one of the last races to exist on Earth. They made their homes in the giant forests of ancient Earth and excelled in the use of r
anged weapons, survival skills, and nature magic. They were the shortest breed of elves, standing at a willowy 5’3” on average.

  Bonuses:

  +5 to agility and wisdom.

  +10 skill points to bows, survival, and perception.

  Darkvision.

  Sun Elf: Unlike their wood elf cousins, the sun elves incorporated with humanity, sharing their knowledge and magic, until their untimely extinction. Sun elves have an affinity for magic and excel at diplomacy and negotiation. Standing at just over 5’9”, they were the tallest of the elven races.

  Bonuses:

  +5 to agility and charisma.

  +10 skill points to diplomacy, negotiation, and light magic.

  Darkvision.

  So, elves existed on Earth in the distant past? Next, he would find out Legolas existed and had secretly eloped with Gimli. Jack knew he was gullible, but this truly defied belief. He read the descriptions again, trying to lock down this crucial decision. Both heritage choices provided unique benefits, though he supposed the wood elf heritage bonuses would be more practical in this world. But throughout his entire life, he’d lived by one motto: honor your truth. Something about the sun elf heritage spoke to him and the deeper parts of his personality—his id. He mentally chose the sun elf heritage.

  “Now you must choose your starter class,” the pleasant female voice continued. A list of icons appeared in his vision. “Class options are Fighter, Mage, Rogue, Cleric, and Ranger. For more information on any of the classes, mentally select their appropriate icon.”

  Jack had played enough games to understand the basics of these classes, but didn’t know how, exactly, the class system worked on Rigara. He decided to ask the voice, which he subconsciously named Alexa.

  “Alexa, what does it mean to choose a class? Will I be able to make another choice later? Can I learn spells even if I am in a melee class?”

  Ignoring her new nickname, the female voice answered, “You can change into other more specialized classes every five levels. Your new class choices will be based in part on how you attained the experience for those levels and in part on the skills you gained during those levels. Any class has the ability to learn spells, but progression with those spells will be easier and experience with them gained more quickly if you choose a Mage or Cleric base class.”

  He reviewed each class, mentally switching between the presented tabs as he pondered this choice.

  Fighter: The Fighter class is at home on the battlefield. This class excels at using all melee weapons and armor and will level melee skills faster than any other class. They are hard to kill and gain more health per level than any other class. Starting equipment: chain mail armor, long sword, shield, survival token, and adventuring backpack.

  Mage: The Mage class specializes in casting all manner of spells. Along with the Cleric, they gain the most spell points per level and will level their spells faster than any other class. Starting equipment: mage robes, staff, three simple spells, survival token, and adventuring backpack.

  Rogue: The Rogue class specializes in stealth and attacking with surprise. While not as effective in combat as the Fighter, the Rogue can learn several skills that make him particularly useful outside of battle. Starting equipment: leather armor, shortsword, dagger, one simple spell, thieves’ tools, survival token, and adventuring backpack.

  Cleric: The Cleric class specializes in strengthening and healing its allies. Able to wear heavy armor and use shields, the cleric is at home on the front lines of battle. Starting equipment: chain mail armor, shield, mace, holy symbol, three simple spells, survival token, and adventuring backpack.

  Ranger: The Ranger class is at home in the forest, able to hunt, track, and kill anything that invades his domain. Rangers typically excel at ranged combat. Starting equipment: leather armor, longbow, quiver, arrows, shortsword, one starting spell, survival token, and adventuring backpack.

  Jack was sorely tempted to choose a spellcasting class, but he didn’t think he would have the discipline or intelligence required to master the more difficult spells. While quick-witted and adept at picking things up, doing long math and complex equations was, as they say, not his bag, baby. He liked the Ranger concept, picturing himself as Aragorn from Lord of the Rings. However, Rangers seemed liked the solitary, quiet type, and that wasn’t him either. He saw himself as more of a jack-of-all-trades kind of guy, and as he reread the Rogue description, he liked the idea of learning a variety of skills.

  Jack mentally selected the Rogue option and again heard the voice in his head.

  “You chose Rogue as your starting class. You gain plus two agility and plus two luck. You obtain the skills light armor, dual wield, small blades, stealth, and open locks. All skills have been adjusted based on prior experience. You gain six health, six stamina points, and one spell point. In addition, you receive the starting equipment of the Rogue class.”

  Jack looked down at himself; instead of his army fatigues and equipment, he wore a leather jerkin that covered rough, wool pants and shirt. Supple leather boots had replaced his not-quite-broken-in army pair, and he saw the edges of a green cloak loosely tied around his shoulders. His leather belt held a shortsword and dagger, each wrapped in leather sheaths. On the ground next to him lay a canvas backpack. Curious, he pulled up his character sheet to review the changes.

  Name: Jack. Heritage: Sun elf. Class: Rogue. Level: 1 (0/100). Sex: Male. Height: 5’9” Weight: 230. Hair: Brown. Eyes: Blue. Fame: Level 1: Unknown (0/100).

  Hit Points: 15 HP Regeneration: 2/hour, outside of combat.

  Stamina: 13 Stamina Regeneration: 2/minute.

  Spell Points: 20 SP Regeneration: 2/minute.

  Heritage & Background Bonuses:

  Chapter 3

  Jack continued reviewing his character sheet and noticed that multiple tabs were greyed out as inaccessible; something for him to dig into later. For now, his curiosity centered on the new changes and additions. His agility, charisma, and luck attributes had all risen due to his elven heritage and Rogue class bonuses. His agility had gone from average to above average, although what that meant exactly was still a mystery. Oddly enough, his heritage and class bonuses weren’t added as modifiers, but instead added to his base.

  “Alexa, what is considered a modifier to attributes?” Jack asked the unknown female voice.

  “Modifiers to attributes consist of any temporary attribute bonuses. The most common modifiers to attributes are from spells, armor, and weapons,” she responded promptly.

  “Alrighty then!” he said to Alexa in his best Jim Carrey. He continued to scan his character sheet and review his skills. They were all base skills gained from the Rogue class, but three of his skills were higher.

  “Alexa, why am I starting with increased rank in a few skills?”

  The response was immediate. “As part of the transition, your previous experiences have been applied to all skills available in Rigara. However, the bonuses will not apply until you officially learn the skill.”

  Jack had worked for a locksmith in Antigo for a winter a few years back. The job mostly involved copying keys and unlocking cars, houses, and padlocks, and he’d spent a lot of time in the shop learning how to pick various locks. According to Alexa, that real-world skill translated into bonuses in this world, as open locks had a bonus of seventeen points. Made sense; he still retained the same memories and experiences on this world that he did on Earth.

  As far as the dual wield bonus went, while he’d never practiced fighting with one weapon, let alone two, he played point guard on his high school’s basketball team and could dribble, pass, and shoot with either hand. He assumed some of that ability would transfer to wielding weapons. Finally, for the stealth bonus, he’d hunted deer with his grandfather since he was eight, usually with a bow. To be effective with a bow, you need to be close to the deer, which meant being sneaky and quiet. That had translated nicely into a six-point skill bump.

  Jack reviewed his heritage and background bonuses. Th
e sun elf bonuses he understood; he saw them earlier when he chose the heritage, but he didn’t understand the two perks. He mentally clicked on Knows No Shame and an additional dialogue box appeared.

  Knows No Shame: You have no shame when it comes to learning something new. Nothing is beneath you. Nothing is too degrading for you to learn. Knowledge is its own reward, screw inhibitions. You can learn any skill, regardless of class or other requirements.

  Jack was a little put off by this. He wouldn’t do anything to learn a new skill . . . just mostly anything. He didn’t see the reason why, when you became an adult, suddenly some things you did before were off limits or considered childish. Sure, he was the only person older than sixteen working at the local Dairy Queen, and sure people thought it was a little odd and more than a little creepy, but who cared. Free soft serve directly from the machine when nobody looked for an entire summer! Sign me up! He moved on to the next perk.

  Easygoing: You take life as it comes. +50% resistance to fear effects. -50% resistance to suggestions or dares.

  Like Marty McFly, no one—no one—called Jack a chicken. As much as he hated to admit it, he was prone to doing stupid things when dared, especially when alcohol was involved. His history of broken bones proved it.

  Jack felt discomforted seeing his entire life distilled into two pages of visual text. He was so much more than that, but apparently the world of Rigara didn’t care about his softer side.

  After a few more minutes of review, he closed his character sheet and immediately stumbled back in shock, landing hard on his butt and receiving a notification that he had received one point of damage. The source of his shock, Morpheus, stood in front of him.