Battle Spire

by Michael R. Miller

  “I’m fine. Seriously. I got some help. Seeing things from a new perspective.”

  “Trauma can lead to—”

  “It’s not trauma. It’s not momentary. I just had some help to reframe things, that’s all. Help from a very, very good friend.”

  Epilogue

  Two Weeks Later…

  Hey there, I see you’re back. Come to find out what happened next? Sure, I’ll fill you in. I’ve got time.

  The first week after the attack was a strange mix of calmness and madness. When I first got home, my sister duly brought out all her bleeping medical devices and started to poke and prod at me until she was satisfied I wasn’t about to drop dead. As per her orders, I didn’t use a headset for at least one week, not that I still had one at home anyway. She hooked me up to an IV drip that she’d swiped from her work and then ordered me to get some proper sleep.

  I didn’t wake up till well into the next day and felt completely wiped out. But I was alive. And whole. I didn’t feel shaken, not actively at least, and yet I didn’t want to go through events in detail with them. Whenever I thought on how close things had got in the Spire, I felt my heart throb and I struggled to breathe for a moment. Julie told our parents that we might want to consider therapy if I started having meltdowns.

  Everyone was very understanding. I was sure I’d be fine. I just needed some time.

  All the while, the news channels couldn’t shut up about the attack on Hundred Kingdoms. Other players had taken ill too from the intensive and pro-longed session but most were recovering quickly like me. However, on the third day, I found out that the player who’d died during the botched assault on the Spire walls was a fifteen-year-old kid from Ohio called Rick. I still felt a bit numb about that, but then Rick’s photo appeared on national television.

  That’s when it hit me. That’s when all of it hit me.

  I wept and heaved just as I had back atop the Spire after Azrael’s death, only this time for real. And after that, I felt much better about things. I talked freely about what had gone down, which reassured my family greatly. It was just as well I was feeling open because, on the fifth day, there came a knock at our front door.

  A team of FBI agents, all dark shades and navy jackets, trudged inside our house. My mom hosted them in the kitchen, serving coffee and cookies like this was one of her book club meetings. Frostbyte had records of all the accounts of players who had been present in the Spire during the attack, but no one suspected me of being involved. I’d assumed that would be the case, given my age and level in-game, but it was likely that Ellie would have told Frostbyte everything as well.

  The agents wanted a statement from me, which I happily gave but I also asked to remain anonymous so that I did not appear on any of the press releases sent out. I liked the idea of being able to log back into the game and play Zoran without half the world adding me to their friends’ list or running up to me as I tried to quest. I could have started another character, but I felt more bonded to Zoran than to any other character I’d made. The reasons for that were obvious. Besides, the Jack who wanted to climb leaderboards, chase fame and approval, he was gone now.

  All my mom cared about was whether they’d caught the man responsible for the attack. Agent Diaz took off her shades at that point so that she could look my overwrought mother directly in the eye and said, “Officially, Mrs Kross, we are unable to comment on developing situations.”

  “And, unofficially,” I asked, coolly.

  Diaz had cocked an eyebrow at me and I held her gaze. Just as I’d stood up to that fat landlord, I kept my nerve. What was the worst that would happen?

  “Unofficially, Mr Kross, I’d suggest you watch your tone when addressing federal agents.” Still, she gave me a very telling wink. Before trundling her team back out into their black cars, Diaz turned to my parents one last time and added, “Your son performed an act of bravery few in the agency could ever manage. He saved millions of players worldwide. You should be proud of him.”

  My father beamed, cheeks reddening, chest puffing, and he pulled my mom close in to announce, “Oh, we are very proud of Jack.”

  Julie had smiled too although she wrinkled her nose, the status of golden child shifting to me in some sort of rebalancing of the universe. I smirked at her and she cuffed me around the head. We were good.

  Sure enough, the next day, the news anchors were all aflutter because the man behind the attack on Hundred Kingdoms had been caught. Ellie had been right in her assessment. A bunch of his own men had made a deal and turned on him. You can buy a lot of things, but you can’t buy loyalty.

  Azrael was revealed to be Albert Engel, and he was far humbler in the flesh. Middle-aged and pudgy, with dark eyes magnified behind a thick pair of smart glasses, he was the antithesis of his paladin disguise. Looking at him now, I couldn’t help but wonder if, deep down, behind all the bravado and supposedly noble intentions, this man hadn’t just enjoyed the idea of experiencing the ultimate power fantasy? For all that he had snubbed games, he had been a developer. He enjoyed them as much as much as I did, perhaps even more so, and now he’d never play again.

  My part in events was reported only as ‘an anonymous player trapped in the game aided in the removal of Mr Engel from the inside’. The full extent of the events that took place was probably only known to Ellie, me, Azrael, the FBI agents, and maybe a few folks over at Frostbyte, although no one at the company wanted to admit they had been unable to do shit about the hack and only some random college student had saved the day.

  I might have remained been a total mystery, had it not been for the fight I’d had with Azrael’s men atop the Spire’s perimeter walls. Players from the assembled army across the moat had watched me destroy both ballistae, and some had the foresight to snap in-game photos. Video clips of the fight were also available online, gathering millions of views as the ‘Hero of the Spire’ fought off the dastardly terrorists.

  No player had been close enough to get the information bar that would have given my name and class, which I was grateful for. It led to some wild tinfoil hat theories on what class I was playing. The spells spoke of a mage, but mages can’t summon walls of rock, nor blast themselves high into the air. Shamans had some earth spells but no spellcasters could use crossbows, so that put a stopper in all of that. On and on it went.

  Eventually, people suggested I was using runes, but the power of them seemed to make no sense as I combined it with something green that no one could yet identify. I saw one post theorizing correctly that I was a scavenger but that got laughed off. Grinning, I added to the furor of comments, saying: ‘Great theory! In my opinion, you’re onto something here ;)’ but it was lost in the crowd.

  The burning question now on every gamer’s mind was would Hundred Kingdoms come back online? Frostbyte had naturally taken the servers offline while they handled the aftermath of the attack and the CEO had promised that the security gap was now plugged and extra layers had been added on top, and he was sparing no expense to do so.

  I bet Ellie was handling most of the work.

  The second week was when I started getting restless. There’s only so much sitting at home and recuperating a guy can do before he starts to lose his mind. I was also painfully aware of the fact I didn’t have a headset at home anymore, but I didn’t feel like broaching the issue with my parents just yet. Proud they might be, but concern and worry would keep them wary of the game. I’m sure a small part of them hoped that my ordeal had turned me off gaming altogether.

  And then, on the thirteenth day after the attack, Frostbyte announced the servers would be coming back online. I was already mentally penning my speech about getting a new headset when the doorbell sounded.

  It wasn’t the FBI this time, but a group dressed in blue polo shirts bearing the Frostbyte Studios logo, and what they had with them made my heart leap.

  They’d brought me a state of the art Zenith-X90 model, the very best that money could buy.

  “With the comp
liments of the company president,” the leader of the group declared. “Frostbyte can never fully repay the debt owed to you, but a guarantee of receiving the latest developments in all VR-related tech and complimentary access to all of our games, past, present and future seems like a sensible start.”

  If my parents still had their reservations, I think the look of glee on my face dispelled any protest. This was so much better than the car I might have won on that ridiculous bet. I started to tear into the headset packaging before the Frostbyte reps had even closed the door on their way out.

  Holding the gleaming, sleek, lightweight, comfort-padded helmet in my hands, I wanted nothing more than to shove it on right there and return to the world that I’d helped to save.

  I turned, half expecting an argument, but my mom was smiling.

  “Get going then,” she told me, and near enough shoved me towards the stairs leading to my room.

  The Zenith-X90 was already fully patched, so after connecting it to the Wi-Fi and plugging it in, I lay down on my bed – my nice, comfortable bed – and logged back in.

  My world went dark, and I whizzed through each menu to reach Hundred Kingdoms. The power of my new headset loaded the login in screen near instantaneously, and I was greeted with the choice to select an existing character to play or start a new one. Zoran stood perfectly rendered in all his glory with the obsidian, crackling legendary gloves, which by look alone were clearly my most powerful piece of gear. I selected Zoran and the process of loading into the world began.

  I wondered where I would spawn in-game when I logged in. Ellie had logged me out in the game masters room, which had probably now been moved, and I doubted I’d remain there as a result.

  I’d barely considered the matter when the game world burst into existence around me; easily the quickest I’d ever loaded into a VR game. Nearly purring at the speed of my Zenith headset, I looked around to get my bearings.

  It was obvious where I was. I’d been spawned back in at the base of the Imperial Spire, right at the bottom of the stairs leading into the throne room. The bright blue carpet, now repaired and scorch mark free, beckoned me to follow it inside.

  I entered the throne room, eager to see what changes had occurred in the wake of Azrael’s attack. Would the Emperor simply be on his throne, albeit looking more intimidating than he had before? As far as I could see, nobody sat upon the throne.

  A robed man stood before the throne, with a black iron chair laid out for him beneath the true seat of power. He looked much like Aurelius once had, but he was certainly not the Emperor. I glanced at him as I drew closer.

  Osbert – Spire Chamberlain – Level 45

  The NPC wasn’t even an elite, though a few generic Imperial bodyguards stood to one side, warding away potential players who might wish to kill the quest giver for fun. Players queued before the Chamberlain, perhaps picking up quest threads that Azrael had rudely interrupted.

  I took a left down the now familiar corridor towards the war room, where I hoped to discover what had become of Marshal Highcross and whether Kreeptic had indeed taken on his job.

  What I discovered was a much busier war room than I’d found during my first visit. The great war table, a full three-dimensional map of the entire game world, had about a dozen attendees now; grizzled generals moving army pieces around the map like some giant game of chess. At the head of the proceedings was Emperor Aurelius himself, pointing with authority, calling for orders and advice. Grand Crusader Reginald bickered with a spindly high elf, thumbing the head of his warhammer with evident restraint. I saw Kreeptic too, standing exactly where Marshal Highcross had once been.

  Kreeptic the Twisted – Chief Intelligence Officer – level 45 elite

  He was engrossed in conversation with a level 4 human priest and did not see me approach. Aurelius, on the other hand, did notice me.

  The Emperor raised a clenched fist and all around the war table fell silent.

  “Ser Zoran,” he boomed, “I am most glad to see you.” He left his vantage at the head of the table to come and greet me personally, clapping a hand upon my shoulder and grinning wolfishly as though welcoming an old friend. His whole bearing had changed; he stood taller, broader in his armor, and his magnificent crown hid the balding spots on his head. He was truly the Emperor now. “It is good to see you alive, friend. We had feared you had perished in the fight. Some dark magic must have come over Reginald and I for our memories are hazy and dark of that encounter.”

  I tried not to smirk, knowing how seriously the NPCs took their roleplay in this game. Ellie’s workaround of their death was neat enough. I supposed that I was talking to her, or some small part of her, in a way.

  Where was she? Would she come and speak to me again? Perhaps Frostbyte had clipped her wings in the wake of the attack?

  “Ser Zoran?” Aurelius asked in concern.

  I rallied to the moment. “I am well, your Majesty. Very well and ready to serve again, should you have need of me.”

  Reginald thudded over to us, having clearly heard me. “We may well be in need of your… unique talents,” he grumbled. “And sooner than I’d like, I fear.”

  “What is wrong?”

  “Nothing you need concern yourself with, not yet,” Aurelius told me. “Matters of diplomacy are not for adventurers, no matter their prowess.”

  “Gnomes hold his kind in higher regard than most,” Reginald said. “Perhaps it would be worth considering.”

  By ‘his kind’ I assumed he meant scavengers, and mention of the gnomes and the hints of troubled diplomacy threw up images of Ignatius and his literal flight from the Spire. I glanced around the war room again and saw a representative from each race of the Imperium but no gnome was in sight. Clearly, relations had soured.

  Feeling a foolish sense of guilt, I offered aid all the same. “If I can ever be of assistance, Lord, please call upon me.”

  “Oh, I will,” said the Emperor. Other low-level players were gawking at me, doubtless wondering what sort of quest line I was on. Aurelius ignored them and beckoned me in closer to speak quietly. “I would be grateful for any information you might come across about one Ignatius Brightspark. He is, or was, a gnome in my service here in the Spire and is unaccounted for after the attack. Suffice to say. this gnome is of some importance to their king, Gazzlewicks the Great Cog. Resolving Ignatius’ fate should go some way in appeasing our gnomish allies.”

  Quest – A Bright Future or the Spark of War

  Ignatius Brightspark’s disappearance from the Spire has resulted in diplomatic tensions between Gnomes and Humans. This will need to be resolved if the Imperium is to stand united against incoming threats.

  Objectives

  Find a resolution to the question of Ignatius Brightspark through whatever means you deem fit. Be careful, your actions may have lasting consequences.

  Good lord, I thought. That quest looked intense and open-ended in equal measure. I assumed other players who had reached a level of reputation or favor with the Emperor would receive the same or similar quest. Yet none of them had the knowledge I did. I knew of Ignatius’ fate and where to find him, but as I seemingly had the power to influence the whole Imperium. I decided to ponder the matter a little longer.

  “I will keep my eyes and ears open for news of this gnome, Lord,” I told the Emperor.

  “Excellent,” he said, clapping me on the shoulder once more. “Now, I suggest you head to the Knight’s Hall across the city. There you shall receive full induction into the order and I am certain that Knight Commander Uhtred will have work for you as well.”

  I bowed to Aurelius and clasped hands with Reginald before parting ways. I’d almost left the war room when I heard a girly squeal. With a sudden, horrible, flashback of the attack on the Spire, I whirled around, crossbow raised; but it was only the lowly-level 4 priest, who was now being pressed up against the wall by Kreeptic. Evidently, the former master of the dungeons had tired with the player’s line of questions. I laughed and
Kreeptic, at last, noticed me. He nodded at me, his lips pulling back in a dangerous smile before rounding on his unfortunate new victim.

  Still grinning to myself, I thought about how far my character had come since I’d first met Kreeptic; hell, since I’d first entered the Spire. Fourteen levels in less than one day was pretty good going. I’d had a boost from a high-level quest, of course, killed a ton of higher-level enemies, Scavenged and crafted a lot more than a low-level scavenger was expected to. My professions had come on a nice amount too, and I pulled up the Profession Sheet to get a better sense of where I stood.

  Professions

  Crafting

  Blacksmithing – Rank 5 – 280/800 EXP

  Leatherworking – Rank 2 - 80/270 EXP

  Tailoring – Rank 5 - 104/800 EXP

  Jewel crafting – Rank 1 - 0/100 EXP

  Engineering – Rank 5 - 739/800 EXP

  Gathering

  Mining – Rank 1 - 0/100 EXP

  Skinning – Rank 2 - 222/270 EXP

  Not bad for a day’s work too. I’d need to invest some time into jewel crafting. That would probably mean mining ore nodes for gems, so I’d get to level mining as a consequence. I had plans for this character.

  I left the Spire, venturing back across the bridge and into the city proper. I strode past the Orb & Scepter inn – my stint there now felt like a lifetime ago – and used my map to navigate the winding streets and waterways to the Knight’s Hall, which was situated within the Military Quarter of Argatha, moving through the crowds of players unnoticed. I was just one of them, a nameless face amidst the sea of those striving to reach level cap. For now, that’s how I wanted it. No guild. No burden. Just fun. And if the time came when I formed one again, I’d take Ellie’s lesson deeply to heart.