Rogue Games

by Angie A Huxley

  It was overwhelming after being isolated for twenty years, and Matthew was thinking no stop before he understood what that would mean for the game. Everything dissolved around him, back to the original chrome room.

  SHUTTING DOWN…

  Matthew experienced the shutdown of the VR headset and then tugged it from his head, massaging his temples and glancing at the watch on the nightstand. Frowning, Matthew had to reach out and grab it. Two in the morning. Had Matthew been creating a character for over two hours?

  Eyes burning, Matthew decided to call it a day. Tomorrow he would probe Ralph for more information about making it into a viable money maker, but for now, he needed to rest and recover. Being back in his old body, aching and old, was a dissonance shift, and he could already feel the attraction of being in the game.

  Matthew headed for the shower, trying to tamp down on the eagerness to get back. He needed to be cautious about this, didn’t want to get so wrapped up on the life inside the game, that he forgot to look after himself outside of the game.

  Sleep first, then figuring out what came next.

  Chapter Three

  The next morning, Matthew picked up his watch and ran a hand over his face. Stretching slowly, he felt his bones crack and shift. There had been plans to go out and look for another job. Ralph’s text certainly had promise, and eventually, Matthew would have to sit down and work out exactly what he would have to do to make this work.

  After grabbing a quick breakfast from the bakery down the street, Matthew decided that after the night before, he needed to take the morning to himself and figure where his head was at. Not far from the hotel where he was staying, there was a park with a small pond and ducks already swimming lazily across the water, butts shaking out water droplets.

  Matthew sat on a bench, eating his pastry, and watching the ducks swim. Part of him was intrigued to learn whether or not the world in the game was similar to this one. How real would the animals be, the water, the trees? How would the food taste? He was almost annoyed with himself at the questions; this was how people got sucked into games and couldn’t escape. All of the questions and wonders would mount to intrigue that Matthew wouldn’t be able to shake and he would end up playing all of the time.

  Scrunching up the pastry wrapper, he rolled it around in his hands, flexing his fingers to work out the pain. Closing his eyes, he breathed out slowly. Perhaps he would look for a job. He had enough money to continue his stay at the hotel, and he had enough to continue eating and living comfortably. It wouldn’t last too long, and he would have to find alternative means. One of the ducks took off from the water in a flurry of wings and honking, and Matthew watched it fly, jaw locked in determination.

  By the time he’d actually managed to walk down the street towards the main shopping hub, his back was aching, and he wished he hadn’t come so far from the hotel. Pausing at a bench, Matthew couldn’t get past the annoyance of his body. It wouldn’t have been so bad if he hadn’t spent decades in jail, twisting his figure into something he couldn’t stand. It felt worse when he thought of the body he had left behind at the hotel.

  “Stop it,” he told himself angrily, tossing the pastry wrapper in the bin next to the bench. He couldn’t stand this. Why was the game so appealing?

  Instead of continuing on to the shopping hub, Matthew turned back to the hotel, frustrated with himself, but his body reminding him of how good the body in-game had felt. Younger and easier to use, no creaking bones, no illnesses. Well, as long as Matthew remained illness free.

  By the time Matthew was safely in his room, back pressed to the door, he had resigned himself to playing this game for the foreseeable future. Whether or not he could get a job would matter eventually; money was finite and the lack of it would start to affect Matthew in large ways. To stop himself ducking into the game and never getting out, he set his watch’s alarm for three hours max. That way he would be able to pull himself out of the game in time for lunch. His body would need fuel and energy, even if his mind was completely wrapped up in whatever was happening.

  The VR headset felt lighter somehow, probably just a product of his own mind, but as the electrical pulse thrummed through his temples, he immediately thought:

  [LOADING GAME…

  The image of his avatar appeared in the chrome room and Matthew immediately focused on it with an eagerness that he tried to ignore.

  The city took shape around him, the noise, smells, and sounds all hitting Matthew like a punch to the jaw. He recoiled, stepping off into an alleyway to catch his breath. The aches and pains he was used to carrying around fell away, and he felt the power that came from this ageless body.

  The virtual world was already busy; Matthew couldn’t tell whether that came from people playing as often as they could, even while working, or if this game really was so lucrative that some made it their job. Either way, it was a lot of people at one time. Now that he was expecting it, it didn’t immediately pull him out, but it would take adjustment. For now, Matthew would stick to the shadows. It was fitting, he thought wryly.

  As he stayed close to the buildings, making his way down the street, he realized that he had no idea how to start; what was the aim now? How did he start doing ‘stuff’?

  Someone bumped into him and he jerked out of the way, scowling.

  “I’m so sorry,” the person said, holding up their hands. It was an elf, the ears immediately giving it away, and they were dressed in ostentatious clothing; a hat with different stripes of color, a bright red jacket, and pants of a golden material. The elf – and Matthew had no clue about what gender they were – raised their eyebrows. “Oh, a newcomer. You just started?”

  Matthew scowled, looking down at himself and trying to figure out what he had done that had given him away so easily. “Huh, how can you tell?”

  The elf gestured to him. “Easy. You’re out here in the city. Most rogues, once leveled, tend to stick to the dungeons – it’s where the best loot is. And if they travel to the city, nobody would know about it. With their stealth and all.”

  “Right.” Matthew sighed. He definitely had a lot to learn.

  “What’s your name?” Before Matthew could say something, the elf held up their hand. “I don’t mean your real name. Probably best to leave that on the outside. What’s your name here?”

  Matthew had no idea. Is that what people did? Changed their name? Probably another way to distantiate themselves from their real selves. “I don’t know.”

  “Better decide that pretty quick,” the elf said, amused. “If you need help figuring out how the game works, there’s an information booth just around that corner. Might be worth having a look.”

  Following the elf’s outstretched finger, Matthew could see a simple brown booth with INFORMATION hanging in the air above it.

  “Thanks. I have to admit I’m a bit lost here.”

  “No problem.” The elf gave him a mock salute and turned away. “Good luck with the game.”

  Matthew didn’t want to ask for help, but it was clear that if someone he didn’t even know could pick up on the fact that he was new here, he would have to find out why he stood out.

  The booth was manned by a couple of people, and there were only two players ahead of him in the line, so Matthew took his time looking around. There was the façade of a huge hotel off to the left, lavish rooms and balconies decorated with gold. It was obviously for people with money. On one of the balconies, what looked like a green humanoid – Matthew assumed either orc or goblin – was lounging on a chair, sharpening a sword. It was difficult to believe that this was the world in which Matthew found himself. A few floors down and to the left, he could see two folks with horns, one purple and the other green, were sharing a meal. The food looked unfamiliar.

  “Can I help you?”

  Matthew turned, but the woman was talking to the elf in front of him. He scanned the city once more, taking in the shop fronts. There was an armory, a potions and tinc
tures shop, so many different choices. There was a blacksmith tucked in amongst a cluster of market stalls. A horse tied up outside of it, munching on a bag of hay.

  A cart trundling by startled Matthew and he took a step back, right into the booth.

  “Hello.”

  Matthew turned. The person behind the booth, a small humanoid that Matthew didn’t recognize, was giving him a tight smile. “I need help.”

  “Obviously,” the female said, rolling her eyes. “I take it you’re new here?”

  “You’re the second person to ask me that. Yes, someone told me I should come to you.”

  “Level?”

  Matthew paused. Had the game even told him what level he started at? “No idea. How can I know?”

  The female laughed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, and dropped down from her stool, ducking under the desk and rooting around for something. “Level 1, then. Everyone starts at the bottom.”

  When she reappeared, she dropped a small leather drawstring bag that made a distinctive sound as it landed; coin, Matthew thought. “You have a map?”

  “Yes,” Matthew said, producing the map from his pouch.

  The female took it from him and gave him a look. “For starters, I’m a gnome. Not a halfling. You might want to learn the difference. Wouldn’t want you to insult someone.”

  From the curve of her lips and the wry smile, Matthew assumed that she wouldn’t care either way. He gave her an unimpressed look, but she just laughed, smoothing the map out on the counter.

  “You’re here,” she said, pointing to a picture of a grey stone building, KLISTER written above it. “This is the main hub in this sector.”

  Matthew could see other grey stone buildings, some larger, some small. He assumed those would be other cities.

  “You’re a rogue,” the gnome said, giving him the once-over. “That means you might want to start here,” she dragged her finger down the paper, following a marked path, towards a darkish patch of forest at the bottom labeled MANGOON FOREST. “To level up quickly you’ll want to take out mobs in this forest. That’s your best bet for fast XP.”

  She might as well have been speaking gibberish for all that made sense to Matthew. Perhaps it would, in time, but he just nodded, trying not to let on just how out of his depth he was feeling.

  “Get to level 5 or 6 and then head for your first dungeon. It’s where a rogue picks up most of their first useful skills.”

  The map was folded back up and she promptly handed it over.

  “Thanks,” Matthew said, shoving it back in his pouch.

  The gnome’s smile was a little more genuine this time. “Next time you might want to flick through the manual at least.”

  “I’m more hands-on,” Matthew told her, finding his footing again. Talking he could do; it took a certain amount of charm to get ahead in his (former) line of work. “It works for me.”

  “Let’s hope it does here, too.” The gnome held up the pouch of coin. “Next time you make a new character, remember to find a sack of coin.”

  Matthew’s eyes narrowed, but he took the proffered coin purse anyway. “How did you know I didn’t have anything?”

  You have acquired: Coin

  Inventory: 15 silver, 25 gold, 3 electrum

  Total Currency: 15 silver, 25 gold, 3 electrum

  The gnome waited him out, almost as if she knew what he would be seeing. Her eyes were kind, and as she leaned on the counter, her smile was wide. “A lucky guess. Most people come to the information booth when they haven’t read the basics in the manual. It lists there the best starting kit. This is a pouch we give out to everyone who needs starting coin.”

  It should have occurred to him; after the debacle with the VR headset itself, it seemed that he would have to be a little more vigilant. “I’ll do my best to remember that. Is it possible for anybody to steal that money from me?” he asked, really wondering if his rogue class also allowed him to pick the pockets of other players.

  “You’re only a level 1. Defeating you would serve nobody any purpose, and believe it or not, but the money you’re carrying isn’t enough for anyone to try.”

  “Wonderful,” Matthew muttered. This didn’t answer his real question but at least it comforted him in the idea he wouldn’t be jumped by greedy players right off the bat.

  “What’s your name?” The gnome cocked her head a little. She had lilac hair that kept falling in her face. Matthew had always hated that; why did she not keep it up?

  Matthew still hadn’t figured that one out. What did a human rogue call themselves? He sputtered the first name to come to mind. “Alejander.”

  The gnome grinned. “I like it. Alej.”

  Matthew, or rather Alejander, rolled his eyes. “Sure. Thank you for your help.”

  It went against everything in him to open the pouch, but he did so anyway. Perhaps in the future, he would need a friend in-game. He drew out a few of the coins, some silver, some gold, some a pale yellow. He frowned but refused to ask for help. He could infer what he needed to; the gold and silver were obvious, so that left the pale yellow as the electrum. He would read up on that later. He selected one of the gold coins. “Here.”

  “We shouldn’t really take it,” the gnome said. “We volunteer here.”

  “Then, can’t you pretend like you stole it from me or something?” Alejander asked, lips curling up into a sardonic smile. “Stealing from a thief isn’t really stealing, is it?”

  The gnome laughed, glancing to the left and right. Her companions were busy with other people. Alejander sighed, sliding the gold coin across the counter.

  “If I leave this here, it’s not my problem what you do with it.”

  You have relinquished: 1 gold coin

  Total Currency: 15 silver, 24 gold, 3 electrum

  “Thank you,” the gnome said quietly. “My name’s Sardonya, by the way.”

  “Suits you,” Alejander said, though he couldn’t tell why he felt that. “I’ll see you around, Sardonya.”

  Sardonya gave him a wave as she slipped the gold piece off of the counter, under the guise of fetching something from beneath the counter.

  Alejander put the coin purse back inside his pouch, and he should probably look into getting something slightly larger if he didn’t want it all to come spilling out at the slightest provocation. If he was going to make it to the forest, he was going to have to find a means of transport. He couldn’t guarantee that his old bones would… Alejander cut himself off, grinning. That wasn’t something he would have to worry about here.

  Still. He didn’t want to exhaust his body here any more than he did in the real world.

  Aware of what the elf had told him about rogues not being expected in the city, Alejander decided that he would soon be off. He would only stay long enough to acquire a horse, or whatever passed for that in this world. Matthew had been riding before, often enough that he was confident in his ability, but it would be so much easier as Alejander. This body would take the punishment dealt to him by constant riding a lot better.

  Alejander passed the blacksmith, an apothecary, and a shop catering to the magical community. Alejander had no interest in anything magical unless, of course, those items would fetch a good price. It was clear that money here, while not only being currency, was as lucrative as it was in the real world; it could buy you happiness, Alejander thought wryly. The best places to stay, the best houses, the best weapons.

  Around the corner, Alejander paused. The street opened up into a larger market, stalls stacked haphazardly side by side, sellers yelling about their wares, everything from cloth to spells and food. The crowd here was vast, and while it made Matthew uncomfortable, Alejander moved amongst the stalls easily, slipping between people and making his way towards the heart of the market.

  The smell here was thick, strong with the scent of manure and hay, making Alejander’s nose tingle. He fought down the sneeze and ran his eyes over the horses. He had
no idea which horse would work out the best for him. Some were too young, smaller and more spirited in the stalls, kicking and whinnying. The older ones were obvious by white in the hair, the dullness of the coat. There was one at the end, tracking the movement of most of the people. It was a dark bay, with sharp eyes and a beautiful black mane.

  There was a human male lounging against a post, chewing on something, and flicking through what looked like a pamphlet. As Alejander approached, he could see Guide to Swords and Steel.

  “How much for that one?” Alejander asked, pointing out the bay.

  The man gave him the once over, sliding the pamphlet into a pocket on his oversized jacket. He turned to the horse, sniffing loudly.

  “4 electrum.” The man sneered.

  Alejander wasn’t stupid; he knew he was being tested. Matthew had spent a lifetime convincing people that the price they wanted to charge him wasn’t the price they would eventually pay him. It would just be the reverse of that; Alejander wouldn’t pay more than he wanted to for the horse.

  Alejander pretended to think about it; he drew a hand over the bay’s shoulder, keeping his head down, and giving the horse space to move away from him. It didn’t, watching him steadily, but not moving away. There was mud and dirt up the back of the horse’s legs, and as Alejander slowly moved his hands down the flanks, he could see that the horse was a mare, and a beautiful one at that. This man clearly had other things on his mind, and the horses were a means to an end, not a lifestyle choice.

  Alejander wouldn’t pay more than five gold for her, but he had to work on the man. “I wouldn’t pay more than two gold for some of your younger horses. Why would anyone with sense pay that much for her?”

  The man eyed him, licking his lips. His eyes darted down the line of horses, and Alejander could see his mind turning over. “One electrum.”