by Troy Osgood
He tried to double click, and nothing happened.
“Seriously, what the hell?” Hall said aloud. His voice still sounded strange to his ears.
AS he concentrated on the audio tab, it opened, and he looked through the options. Background music was still turned off. He thought about it, and a checkmark appeared in the box. Exiting the User Interface, he waited for the music.
He enjoyed the game’s music but for the most part kept it turned off. The continuous loop of the same four-or-five-minute sequence could be very annoying.
Hall waited, listening, and heard nothing.
He brought up the Interface again, double checking the music was on. It should have been playing but there wasn’t any.
Just another thing that was odd. It could have been that weird patch earlier, if that was what it was. That had happened sometimes. A patch to fix one thing sometimes messed something else up. There would be a hotfix in a day or two.
At the bottom of the stairs he paused and looked out into the common room. It was not the Green Craobh. He studied the room and finally placed it, an Inn he had not been to in a very long time. The room was wide open, with wooden planks running vertical along most of the walls, covering the logs. A bar was set along two walls in an L shape, another arch opening to stairs to the sleeping rooms above. A stage was set in the corner and a pair of double doors that led out. He knew what Inn this was. The Laughing Horse was the first Inn to which anyone could bond a Townstone.
It was a low-level room in the first zone, Cumberland, in the kingdom of Essec, located in the town of Grayhold. The beginner’s town.
Why had his Townstone returned him here? Another glitch from that weird patch.
There was a decent mix of people in the Inn, PCs and NPCs. Almost a dozen of each. The computer-controlled characters were positioned around the room, dressed in the current fashion for Essec. NPC barmaids walked the room, serving drinks. PCs sat at the tables and the bars. They all looked just as confused as Hall felt, and most were wearing the beginning armor for their classes. He saw what looked like level-one Firbolgs, Bodin, Dwarves, and Elves; races that should not have been starting off in Grayhold as they had their own starting zones.
He noticed something else immediately. It was hard to tell the PCs from the NPCs. Usually the computer-generated characters were less detailed, a little faded in coloring with the PCs being brighter. But now, they all looked the same. The same level of detail, the same coloring. The NPCs looked the same as the PCs, just differences in armor and clothing. With some of the PCs wearing cosmetic clothing, non-armor with no stats, and starting level clothes it was even harder.
Shaking his head, he walked over to the bar and leaned against it.
“What can I get ya?” the barmaid asked, coming over.
“Nothing,” Hall replied. He continued to look out over the room, studying everything.
He had never understood the idea of drinking in the game. The character got debuffed, and he never got to enjoy the aspects of intoxication through his VR rig. It was the same for the cosmetic outfits. Lots of Players enjoyed walking the towns in their outfits, but he didn’t get the appeal. It was just clothing. He worked to get the ones he wanted achievements for but that was it.
A couple other people walked down from the Portal Room, a couple from the rooms upstairs and even some from outside. They all had lost looks, confused. Some were seemingly talking to themselves but Hall figured they were trying to voice or group chat and getting no response.
It made him feel better that he wasn’t the only one experiencing this weird patch update.
This was the buggiest one yet, the worst the game had ever had, and he’d been there since beta testing.
An icon flashed just at the edge of his vision. An envelope. He’d gotten an in-system mail. Judging from the reactions of the others in the tavern, they had gotten it as well.
Good, Hall thought, an explanation.
Opening the mail window, he saw that it was from Electronic Storm, the makers of Sky Realms Online. He mentally clicked on the message, and a new window opened up, hovering in front of him. He started to read.
To All Our Players,
The day is January 3rd, 2047. We understand there might be some confusion, and we will do our best to alleviate any of your concerns. Please understand that this is a trying time for us as well, and communication is somewhat difficult.
Hall had to read the first paragraph a couple of times. He couldn’t believe what he was reading. The year was not 2047, it was 2045. The raid on Firefrost had been October 31st, Halloween. Why was this press release dated in the future? He remembered using the Townstone to exit the mountain’s Throne Room and next was appearing in an Inn just as expected, but back in Grayhold. Two years? What did that even mean? He had expected a message explaining about the patch and what it meant, not this.
On October 31st, 2045 the game servers of Sky Realms Online experienced what can only be described as an attack.
We still don’t know everything about the attack and are still researching what exactly happened. As a result of this attack, some characters and players were disconnected from the servers. Others could not be disconnected and found themselves victim to neural feedback through the VR rigs. They were killed instantly.
Hall paused in the reading, looking around the tavern. Everyone had the same vacant looks as they read the in-system mail. There were a lot of mumblings, and some crying was starting. Everyone looked shocked and scared. He was almost afraid to continue reading, able to tell from the expressions around him that it was not good.
If you are reading this then you are among the rest that were not disconnected or outright killed. We do not know how, but your consciousness was transferred out of your body and digitally into the gameworld. You now exist as your avatar. You are alive as your avatar.
What that means? We do not fully know at this time. We recommend everyone to be careful. The game environment is still on and active. At Sky Realms Online we pride ourselves on the realism of the game, and now that realism is the world you exist in.
What did that even mean? They were alive in the game? Hall raised his hand up to his cheek, the wound from the ice shards still raw, no longer bleeding. Exist?
The attack caused the servers to receive information, not send it. Your consciousnesses uploaded to the game server and combined with your avatar. Once this occurred we took down the game servers until we could assess the damage and try to reunite you with your real bodies. We were unable to do so, and your bodies were all put into suspended animation.
Hall was numb. He wasn’t alive anymore? He was in the game? He felt like himself. Well, not himself. In the real world he was a thirty-year-old, slightly overweight American male named Sam that worked a desk job in front of a computer all day. In Sky Realms he was a healthy, strong Half-Elf Skirmisher named Hall who completed quests and fought for the Realm of Essec.
The decision was made to turn the servers back on and allow you to live your lives in the game world. We will continue to provide expansions and keep the servers running. We will provide further updates when, and if, we can. No new Players will be allowed into the gameworld.
The world of Sky Realms Online is now yours to fully explore and influence. Good luck.
Thank You,
Electronic Storm
Silence filled the tavern. No one talked. The NPCs continued their rounds, confused as to why none of the patrons were responding.
“This has to be a joke,” someone yelled out, standing up abruptly. There was a shrill note to the voice, on the edge of panic.
The speaker was one of the Dwarf avatars. A Warden judging by the armor.
“We’re trapped in the game,” the Dwarf exclaimed.
Normally, Hall kept the names turned off while in town. Too much clutter, but he thought about the User Interface and brought it up. He searched through the menus, noticing that some were grayed out. Anything that affected the VR output was inacce
ssible. He found the box to turn on the floating names and checked it.
Above the Dwarf the name “Roxhard” appeared in green with “Paradise Gangstas” under it. He’d never heard of either the Dwarf or the guild.
“I can’t be stuck in the game,” the Dwarf, Roxhard, said. He was on the verge of panic, starting to cry. It was odd seeing the thickly-built Dwarf, standing three-and-a-half-feet high and looking like he was carved from stone, with a deep and gravelly voice sniffling and snuffling the tears back. Hall didn’t think the player could be more than thirteen or fourteen. How had this kid convinced his parents to let him play an M-rated game like Sky Realms? The minimum age was eighteen. “My mom. Oh god. What am I going to do?”
Roxhard was crying heavily now. He sat on the ground, hands against his face.
People ignored him, lost in their own thoughts or trying to somehow log out. Hall had looked for the exit option already. It had been grayed out.
“Everyone,” someone else shouted, catching all their attention. “Look at your Character Sheet.”
Hall did so, pulling up the Interface, wondering why he hadn’t done it earlier. He rarely did. He knew the stats by heart and rarely got a piece of equipment that changed them. He’d been wearing the same armor for a while now. They all had. A new patch was supposed to be coming soon with new content and levels. Currently, they were capped at one hundred. Questing was Hall’s favorite part, and he had been looking forward to more.
Graphically, the Character Sheet looked the same. A small picture of his character. Half-Elf with grayish brown skin that was the color of trees, medium length black hair hanging loose and beard, both streaked with green, light green swirling tattoos in circles and runes around the lines that ran up his arms and over his chest and shoulders behind his sleeveless leather chest and shoulder armor. His ears were slightly pointed, and he had brown eyes. Aside from the ears and slightly elongated eyes, the features were his but more so. Looking younger and stronger than reality. A fantasized version of his own face. Handsome but not in a way that stood out. More rough than fine.
Along the side were small icons of all the armor, necklace, rings, and trinkets that he wore. His weapons were shown on his avatar, their stats along the bottom. The right-hand side had other tabs that would open more information.
NAME: HALL
RACE: HALF-ELF
CLASS: SKIRMISHER
LVL: 1
XP: 0 | NEXT LVL: 200
UNASSIGNED STAT POINTS: 5
STATS:
BASE ADJUSTED TOTAL:
Health
20
0
20
Energy
20
0
20
Vitality
14
0
14
ATTRIBUTES:
BASE ADJUSTED TOTAL:
Strength
10
0
10
Wellness
12
0
12
Willpower
10
0
10
Agility
14
0
14
Intelligence
10
0
10
Charisma
10
0
10
Attack Power
0
0
0
Spell Power
0
0
0
Protection
2
5
7
Attack Speed
-2 sec
0
-2 sec
Spell Resistance
0
0
0
Carry Capacity
25
0
25
ELEMENTAL RESISTANCES:
Air
0%
Fire
0%
Earth
0%
Water
0%
CLASS ABILITIES:
ABILITY RANK:
Evade
1
Leap
1
The first thing he noticed was the armor. It was not the set he had been wearing. He barely recognized it. Each piece of armor, including his weapons, had their names in white. Basic. He had not had a single piece of basic equipment in fifty levels. All his gear had been Epic or Artifact, orange or green. Now he was wearing nothing but Basic. And his rings, necklace, and trinkets were gone.
His eyes moved to his health and energy bars. The numbers were nowhere near what they should have been. They were so low, similar to when he had just started the character. With a sinking feeling, he looked for his level.
Level One.
CHAPTER TWO
“Level one?”
It was a cry echoed by almost everyone in the tavern. Hall had just assumed that everyone in the Inn had been low levels, beginners, since that was the armor they were all wearing. He hadn’t thought to check himself to see that he still had his level 100 gear. The patch had deleveled him? All of them?
All the PCs were level one now.
“This has to be a joke.”
Electronic Storm was known for their elaborate practical jokes, but usually only on April Fool’s Day. It wasn’t like them to pull something like this randomly. Why would they reset everyone level to one? It made no sense.
But then nothing was making sense now.
“You seem calm,” a voice next to him said.
He turned to the newcomer. A Witch. Human. Gael from the look. She had very fair skin, blond hair with purple streaks. Her hair was short, a pixie cut, and had large gold hoop earrings through her ears. Pretty, with vibrant blue eyes. She wore a dark blue halter top with short sleeves lined in gold trim and a skirt that ended just below her knees, cut high on the sides. Runes were etched down the sides of the skirt.
He glanced slightly above her head. Sabine. No guild.
Hall shrugged.
“I don’t think panicking would help anything,” he replied.
“True,” Sabine said and leaned against the bar.
The barmaid immediately came over, and Sabine ignored her.
Roxhard was still on the ground, openly crying now. He alternated between saying “out” and “mom.” The words started to blend together into one long sob.
“What do you think of all this?” Sabine asked.
Hall shrugged again.
“Not sure yet,” he said. “Lots of odd going on, but to be actually stuck inside the game?”
Sabine nodded.
“It’s a scary thought,” she said quietly.
“There’s some appeal,” Hall said. “Back in real life I was a nobody. Dead end job, no girlfriend, lonely apartment. But here…” He gestured at the walls, meaning the world beyond. “Here, I was something.”
“And now, apparently, you can be,” Sabine said with a smile. “We all can.”
Hall was tempted to ask if Sabine was really female. There were so many males that played female avatars that sometimes it was hard to tell. It could usually be figured out through conversations and mannerisms. Hall had a feeling that Sabine was truly female.
He chuckled.
She looked up at him, and he shook his head, not wanting to share.
Sabine settled in next to him, apparently comfortable in the silence. Hall liked that. He wasn’t one to talk, only when needing to. In a social game, it was an odd stance to have.
“Enough,” one of the patrons said. He stood up. An Elf. He was tall, a foot taller than all the others. Long green hair, part of it pulled up in a top knot, clean shaven face as Elves did not grow facial hair. He had the grayish-brown skin of that race and bright green eyes. Light blue tattoos covered his exposed arms and swirled around his eyes.
The level one armor indicated he was a Duelist. “No more moping. I joined this game fo
r the fun and adventure. If I’m trapped inside it, then that’s still what I’m going to do.”
Silence greeted his statement. The text above his head said his name was Cuthard with no guild affiliation.
“They said the game was real now,” one of the others said. “You could die.”
Cutfast paused, seeming to think about what the other had said.
“I’m inside a game,” he said finally, smiling. “I’ll just respawn. Besides, it just can’t be true. It’s all a joke. I’m going to have a little fun.”
With that the Elf Duelist jumped off the table, pushed open the doors, and ran outside. Everyone watched him go, none getting up to follow.
“He could have a point,” Sabine said. “They said the game downloaded our consciousness. Does that kind of tech even exist?”
“No idea,” Hall replied. “He’s probably right…” he trailed off.
“I sense a but.”
“But I don’t think he is.”
Grayhold looked the same as always but there was a subtle difference. More vibrant maybe, more detailed. More real, Hall forced himself to admit. He didn’t want to use that word. Real. Using it made it true, and he wasn’t quite ready to accept that yet.
