Rogue Games

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Rogue Games Page 2

by Angie A Huxley


  Tugging the headset off, Matthew dropped it onto the bed in front of him. What the hell was that? It had been mild, not painful at all, but it had certainly been unpleasant. Matthew couldn’t decide whether he really wanted to put something like that back on. He had no idea how it operated. The electrical surge seemed to coincide with the headset shifting into the cube. Was it running off thought? Matthew wasn’t a scientist and the prospect of something being given free rein to his mind, especially with the potential to rifle through his brain at will, was abhorrent.

  A quick search on his phone told him that while no, they didn’t have the ability to rifle through his brain, the electrical surge had been the headset connecting with his brainwaves. It was a lot of mumbo-jumbo, an explanation that Matthew found hard to follow, but the main facts of the article stood out: the company that had created the VR technology, Mapala, had set up strict controls to restrict the number of users that could use the same VR headset. Each one connected to someone’s brain patterns and could not be used by somebody else. The software itself was connected to Mapala’s servers, and they were strictly monitored by security personnel; and the settings allowed a user to select what kinds of information was being shared across the network. Lack of information could result in fewer avenues of the game being accessed.

  It was reassuring, though Matthew couldn’t bring himself to turn the headset back on just yet. The cassette was still in the box, and he tugged it out, turning it over in his hands. This was his future now. Not necessarily this game, but even going out and searching for jobs, he had seen so many people with headsets and devices that hooked them into the network. It was the new Internet.

  Lying back on the bed, Matthew stared up at the ceiling, feeling more out of his depth than he had since leaving the prison.

  Chapter Two

  Matthew’s phone went off in his ear and he jerked upright, realizing he had fallen asleep. His watch showed it to be late evening, closer to midnight. Stretching, Matthew accidentally dislodged the VR headset off of the bed, and it hit the floor with a thunk.

  “Damn.” Matthew peered over the side. It seemed to be alright. As his fingers curled around it, he groaned, pain ran up his arm. He could really do with getting it seen to; there had been an incident in the prison, someone getting a little too handsy with him, and he had ended up in medical with a broken arm. They had done their best, but they did the bare minimum to make sure they passed inspection and no more. Matthew was certain his bone hadn’t set right, but he had neither the funds to get him into a hospital or any idea of where to go.

  The VR headset seemed to be unscathed and he huffed out a relieved breath, more for the fact that it would certainly get him a little money if he could sell it.

  Remembering the article from last night, he scowled. Worth nothing, then, except whatever Matthew chose to make of it. Annoyed, he swiped at his phone, ready to curse out whoever had woken him.

  There was a text from one of his old buddies, Ralph.

  Not in the game anymore! In the actual game. That’s how we all make money these days; who knew you could make a living from the virtual worlds?

  The text made no sense. How could virtual currency help you out in the real world? Matthew felt like his phone had become more of a lifeline than he had wanted it to be.

  i don’t understand.

  Tell me you’ve at least bought a copy of FEDERATION FUED?

  Matthew snorted. At least the new phone was easier to type on; he didn’t have to deal with fiddly buttons, which his arthritic fingers could definitely not have handled for long. The touchscreen buttons were a blessing.

  that i do have. why?

  Play the game. Follow the tutorial. It will tell you everything you need to know.

  Ralph had always been the cryptic kind. Though Matthew thought unkindly, the guy could do with being clearer.

  Nevertheless, Matthew fumbled for the cassette, a picture of someone dressed in next to nothing, something akin to a leather bikini, a sword slung over one shoulder. She was green, horns protruding from her forehead. An orc, Matthew realized, vague memories of having watched some fantasy as a teenager. That seemed so far away now, though perhaps knowledge would filter back slowly the more he played.

  Apparently, he told himself with amusement, he had already made up his own mind.

  The VR headset had a slot along the top which was the right size for a cassette. Slipping it inside, Matthew could hear a click and a whit from the mechanism inside the headset. A red light flickered on the visor and he tried to ignore the way his hands were shaking as he slipped the headset back on. Prepared for the wetness and electrical surge, Matthew gritted his teeth against the discomfort and waited for the cube to form.

  This time the cube had coalesced into a glowing red and amber fire, wall to ceiling. The words FEDERATION FUED: RETRIBUTION were emblazoned in black through the flames. It was 3D, and as Matthew reached up as if he could touch it, he saw his own hand rise within the cube. Startled, he looked down at himself. It was a little disconcerting, and he felt displaced and unsettled, but he shoved down the feeling, resolved to play the game through now that he had started. It was something he assumed he would get used to as the game progressed. There were a series of words in front of him on the wall.

  Load Game. New Game. Settings.

  Matthew remembered the article and focused on settings inside his head. The next wall of text seemed blocky and incomprehensible, perhaps in an effort to stymy any users, but Matthew navigated his way through until he found the information sharing selection. It was fairly straightforward to restrict data sharing.

  Share information with outside partners. The list was long, companies that Matthew recognized, some he didn’t, and others that seemed too ridiculous to be real.

  Share information with your bank/funding source. Matthew paused. Perhaps Ralph wasn’t crazy; though, he figured, it was probably just as easy for the game to take money off you as it was for them to give it. Still, he left the box unchecked and moved on, until he was satisfied that his brain was relatively safe, he thought done and the screen shimmered back into the main menu.

  This time Matthew thought New Game and immediately the words shimmered and shifted until he was standing in what looked like an archaic armory, a mimicry of what Matthew remembered from Renaissance fairs. He took his time moving around the room, between stands of weapons, helmets, breastplates and leathers. As he reached out to touch them, he could feel the material beneath his fingers, real and solid. It was fascinating, how the creators had managed to give the feel of reality while within a game.

  Rounding one of the weapon stands, there were words hanging in the air in front of him, as solid and stationary as the objects around him.

  CHARACTER CREATION:

  RACE

  CLASS

  INVENTORY

  LOCATION

  Matthew had no idea what he was doing. This seemed like a longwinded way to play a game, but he was familiar with video games and their character selection screens. This wouldn’t be the first time he had had to go through so many hoops to get to the goods.

  A blue arrow hovered in the air in front of Matthew, directing him over to the armor and clothing part of the armory. He dutifully followed, assuming that this was the tutorial Ralph had spoken of. Having a little help would definitely make the initial screens easier to navigate. Perhaps one day he would be proficient enough in using this headset that it would come to him as easily as breaking into a safe would. Instead, he would have to fumble around like a newborn babe until he’d managed to craft a niche for himself in this new world.

  The arrows led him to a secluded corner of the armory, dank and dingy, with a smell of mildew and damp in the air. The game itself was connected to his brain; why would it not be able to use all of his senses? It was definitely an added benefit for the VR company; the more immersive their technology, the more inclined someone would be to use it in order to escape their l
ife. Matthew could admit to himself that was the only reason he was playing; if he had a job or something in the real world to occupy his time, he would never have bothered opening this game at all.

  Instead, he was staring down an array of images, each a perfect replica of a miniature person. They were all different; small, large, humanoid, animalistic. Some Matthew recognized; a human, orc, dwarf, elf. Some he didn’t; a tree, a cat-like humanoid, and what looked like a giant bird with legs. There were also others that he didn’t want to consider, and that he couldn’t even make out; a patch of fog? Something like a cross between a dinosaur and an umbrella? They were bizarre, and while more experienced (or younger) players might be amused to choose those as races, Matthew would stick with a simple human. While the elf and dwarf were alluring simply for their otherness, Matthew didn’t want to go crazy. There was always the chance to create a new game if he wished it.

  Though he wondered what would happen if he chose something else. Just to see, he thought Dwarf and immediately felt the ground rushing up to meet him. He stopped about three feet from the floor and held out his hands. The fingers were thicker, more worn, and as he touched his face, he could feel a beard, crags and grooves in his face that didn’t feel altogether unfamiliar but weren’t his own. His clothes remained the same if several sizes larger, and the disconcerted feeling gave way to his heart hammering in his chest. It had been a long time since Matthew had felt exhilarated by something, but this was certainly fascinating – and intriguing.

  Elf he thought this time. He started to rise, and staring at his legs, he could see the stretch until he was slightly taller than his average height. His hair seemed to grow, falling around his shoulders, and his fingers stretched, thin and smooth.

  Matthew could see the allure in people wanting to play with these races, but he had no such inclination. Human. There wasn’t such a rush towards the floor this time, but he lost some height, and his fingers thickened out, feeling much more like himself. Without the pain, he noted. And as he touched his face, it was smoother, almost younger. Next to one of the benches along the wall, there was a mirror. Matthew risked a look, startled to see a generic-looking man with a thin face, long legs, and dark hair.

  Frowning, he wondered if it was possible to change things. Red hair. Immediately his hair lightened until the brown faded into a russet color. Purple hair. He barked a laugh as his hair turned purple, root to tip. Short, black hair. The long hair that had remained after turning from elf to human started to shrink up into his head. It was too strange to look, so Matthew closed his eyes, waiting a few seconds before reopening his eyes. His hair was short and black, just as he had imagined.

  Slowly, he went through a couple of changes to his clothing and body; he gave himself stubble, brown eyes, simple but a well-made tunic, leather pants, and boots. He gave himself the once over, and just for the hell of it, gave himself a black cloak. It was, he thought, amused, just like being a thief back in the middle ages. Easy to hide. He had no idea what kinds of ways there were in the game to make money, but either way, he had never been a man who sought out the limelight. He was quite happy to remain that way in the game as well.

  Complete, he thought, assuming that the game would need some sort of direction to move on with the tutorial.

  Thankfully, the arrows reappeared, this time leading him back to where the weapons were amassed. They stayed hovering about the floor, directing him towards a few more images hovering in the air in front of him. This time, they were of different symbols with a corresponding subtitle beneath them.

  BARBARIAN.

  Matthew didn’t particularly like the idea. He was all about finesse, after all.

  BARD. Didn’t they play music? Matthew had no interest in that. BLACKSMITH. CLERIC. DRUID. Neither of them sounded very exciting. FIGHTER. GRAVEROBBER. They actually had someone in the game stealing from graves? Jeez, there really was nothing sacred within the virtual world. HEALER. JESTER. Matthew knew some. He didn’t want to be one though. LAWMAN. That was a joke. Matthew ignored that one on principle alone. MINER. MONK. Different jobs and none of them hit Matthew where he wanted them to. NAUTICAL ENGINEER. ORACLE. PAGEMASTER. PALADIN. So many options flickered past. PRIEST. RANGER. ROGUE. SELLER. SORCERER. STABLEMASTER. Matthew paused, going back a bit. Rogue.

  As he thought about it, the Rogue symbol grew and shifted until it formed a wall of text, detailing the rogue class.

  Rogues have mastery over a variety of skills, including stealth and deception, while also refining their abilities to find and disarm traps, open locks, and perfecting their combat abilities.

  In combat, they focus on cunning, avoiding an outright attack on occasion. They will aim for the perfect target, avoiding wearing down a target in favor of one precise attack. There are a few tricks of the trade – and of the magical persuasion – that supplement their uncanny ability to avoid most scrapes!

  Matthew’s lips curved into a smile the more that he read. It almost seemed tailored to him. Perhaps he couldn’t be a thief and a criminal in life anymore, aged and pained as he was. In this game, in the virtual world, he would have a whole world before him. If Ralph was correct, perhaps there was even currency to be had through this game, and he could use this class to get there.

  Confirm.

  INVENTORY.

  Matthew had no idea what this was supposed to entail; the arrows wound around the various weapons on the racks, and Matthew considered what would work best for his character. If he was to attack with subtlety and stealth, then his best bet would be a small, piercing weapon. The rack ahead of him was swords and maces. Behind it, there was a small desk full of what looked like daggers and knives.

  Matthew chose the smaller of the bunch. As soon as he’d picked it up off the table, he blinked as writing shimmered in front of his vision. It wasn’t in the air this time, but almost like his VR headset was displaying the text instead.

  You have acquired: Dagger

  Damage: 3 {piercing}

  Weapon Durability: 20/20

  Reach: Close

  Quality: Poor

  Matthew catalogued all the information and then dismissed the display with a thought. It was starting to get easier to think about removing and choosing things the longer the game progressed. There was another dagger a few knives over, this one long, thin, and tucked into a small covering. He selected it, and the display re-appeared with similar information.

  You have acquired: Poisoned Dagger

  Damage: 3 (piercing, with bonus)

  Weapon Durability: 25/25

  Reach: Close/Ranged {Loss}

  Quality: Average

  Tucking the dagger in his belt, Matthew would keep a close eye on it. The poison would make a great addition, and he could infer what the bonus and the loss with a ranged attack would mean. Attack. That word seemed to elicit a mixed response; on the one hand, the prospect of attacking people was distasteful, but this wasn’t the real world. Perhaps lawmaking was different here. There was a class about it, though Matthew had bypassed it. Everything was new, and Matthew’s excitement was starting to outweigh his apprehension and discomfort.

  On the floor beneath the bench was a blue arrow pointing directly underneath. Matthew took his time bending down, and when the movement was concluded, he realized that this was completely different from usual. The dissonance between his virtual and real body was bizarre. He flexed his fingers once, twice, and grinned. What a great feeling this was! He was young and agile again, his whole body lithe and quick. The opportunities this presented would be fascinating to say the least.

  Shaking himself out of it, he gripped one of the bags under the table, tugging it forward.

  You have acquired: Pack

  Damage: Null

  Inventory: Torch. Matches {10}. Water bottle. Rope. Twine. Bedroll. Map. Lockpicking Tools.

  Quality: Poor

  The pack itself wasn’t anything special (the quality tag was correct in that respect) and next to it on
the floor was a smaller pouch. Matthew tugged this towards him.

  You have acquired: Pouch

  Damage: Null

  Inventory: Null

  Quality: Poor

  Seemingly useless, but for Matthew’s uses it was perfect. He pulled out the torch and the matches, the water bottle, the twine and the map and put them into the pouch. He also tucked the lockpicking tools into his breeches, knowing that they would be invaluable on his journey. It was a difficult fit, but he made it work. He slid it onto his belt, and shifted it to his right hip, making sure it was tucked under his belt. The rope he hung from the left side of his belt, easily looped to prevent restriction. The bedroll would be superfluous. He could find something of use out there in the wild. He didn’t want to encumber himself too much. Nimble and swift was better for ease of action.

  Satisfied, Matthew recalled the last option on the menu:

  LOCATION

  Matthew pulled out the map from his pouch, smoothing it out. The blue arrow was back, pointing back towards the front of the armory, but Matthew took his time perusing the map. It didn’t help with his location right now, but it would help with wherever he ended up. He would at least know what paths were possible.

  Keeping hold of the map, he followed the arrows to the main entrance to the armory, and there were five location emblems hanging in mid-air. Matthew thought City, probably the safest. Forest was too open, Desert was a stupid choice so soon, and Sea wasn’t a favorite of Matthew’s in the real world, and he could only imagine the kinds of things he would face in a world that he knew nothing about.

  The armory faded around him, giving way to black. Light started to curl out around him, forming streets and buildings, people and sounds. Matthew blinked, giving his surroundings the once over. He was in the middle of a street, people bumping into him and cursing around him. It was difficult to get his bearings.

 

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