Brute

by Paul Bellow

  >>Savage Barbarian (levels 6-15)

  >>Berserker Barbarian (levels 6-15)

  Remembering what Aaron had said before, I chose Urban Barbarian. Would I be able to cast spells eventually? I hoped so. The Four Wizards would pay.

  After being led from the arena, my so-called owners came to visit. They put the collar back around my neck, so I wouldn’t outright die from my wounds.

  “Not bad,” Ferris said. “Keep this up, and we might let you go.”

  I stared into his eyes, my left, upper lip twitching.

  “No more smartass remarks?” Sherlock asked.

  Thom laughed then slapped him on the back.

  I walked into the cage and sat down. Coming down from theirs buffs wasn’t fun. The roar of the crowd and sounds of the other caged fighters and fantastical creatures faded as I closed my eyes. Beautiful sleep overtook me, filled with dreams of Sarah and simpler times.

  21

  Controlling the Rage

  Josh

  Six months after spawning back into the game as an NPC and a few weeks after starting my career as a gladiator, I realized I needed to act smarter.

  The thrill of killing epic fighters and creatures in the arena was nice, but all the buffs the wizards cast on me were beginning to have negative side-effects.

  When I relieved myself, the neon-green color of all my waste was a small clue something wasn’t right. The gruel they fed me didn’t help.

  One morning, as I sat in my cage and plotted how to escape, the Four Wizards visited me. They all wore brand new robes with brilliant colors and more.

  “How’s it going, barbarian?” Ferris asked.

  I glanced through the bars at them but said nothing.

  “He’s not looking too good,” Aaron said in a low voice. “Maybe we should stop with the you-know-what. We don’t want to get caught or kill our slave.”

  “I don’t care if he dies,” Sherlock said, smiling. “We’ve gained so much platinum and goodwill already, we’re set for anything that happens from this point on.”

  Thom pulled out a key and unlocked the cage.

  “It’s not time for my next fight,” I said.

  “You’re coming home with us,” Ferris said. “We need to keep a closer eye on you.”

  “Get up,” Sherlock said. “And don’t try anything.”

  After standing, I stumbled out of the cage. The Four Wizards stood around me, holding hands. A few chants later, we teleported out of the coliseum.

  “There we go,” Ferris said after we reappeared.

  I looked around a dark, dank room with stone walls. One end of a thick, glowing chain was attached to a wall. It ended in four shackles. Sherlock nodded his head toward it.

  “Go on,” he said. “Lock yourself up.”

  I thought about making a run for it, but I didn’t see any doors or windows. Resigned to my fate, at least for the moment, I shuffled over to do his bidding.

  Sherlock came over to check the restrains after I’d placed them around my legs then arms. He pulled on them hard, but I was beyond feeling pain.

  “What can you tell us about Sarah?” Ferris asked.

  “Yeah,” Thom added. “Is she a good kisser?”

  Sherlock chuckled while Aaron shook his head.

  “Don’t you worry about her,” I said.

  “Or what, barbarian?” Sherlock asked.

  “You’ll find out if you hurt her.” I flexed my muscles. “You’ll find out quick.”

  Ferris, Sherlock, and Thom all laughed at my ridiculous display of strength. My muscles and even my barbarian rage hadn’t helped me get away from the Four Wizards.

  I needed to think my way out. While I wasn’t sure exactly how I would do it, I had to come up with something before I ended up dying during one of my arena battles.

  “Can you buff me tonight?” I asked as calmly as possible.

  “We need you at full strength for the arena,” Ferris said.

  “No way we can double-dose,” Thom said.

  Aaron nodded. “I’m still afraid they’ll detect us.”

  “Don’t be such a sissy,” Sherlock said.

  “Please?” I asked. “Just a few spells?”

  “He’s totally addicted.” Thom walked over and peered up into my eyes. “His pupils are gone, guys. We should probably let him cool down for a few days.”

  “No,” I said, grabbed him by his robes.

  The other three wizards raised their hands.

  I let go of Thom’s bright white woolen robes.

  “That’s better,” he said then backed up. “No buffs for you tonight.”

  “Or all weekend,” Ferris said. “We can’t burn him out. This scheme is working better than I ever imagined, but we don’t want to get greedy.”

  “Pigs get fat and hogs get slaughtered,” Aaron noted.

  “Yeah,” Thom said. “You need to cool down, barbarian.”

  Anger bubbled up from the dark recesses of my mind. The grey matter in my skull, while virtual, held so many emotions, but primarily I buried all my hate and rage.

  “He’s turning green,” Thom said, pointing and laughing.

  “Restrain him,” Ferris said.

  I glanced around. They had teleported into the featureless stone room I called home. Where would I go even if I ran past them? Nowhere.

  “Don’t worry,” I said. “After all this time, I’ve learned to control my emotions better.”

  “Even under all this stress we’re putting on your body?” Aaron asked.

  The four of them crowded around me, poking and prodding.

  “Cut it out,” I said. “Leave me a little dignity at least.”

  “He’s right,” Ferris said. “Let’s leave him alone.”

  “A few days should do it,” Sherlock said.

  I walked over to my favorite corner and sat down on the wet, damp floor. The Four Wizards teleported away, leaving me to myself. I hated being alone.

  My thoughts turned darker for the next couple days as my body detoxed from all the magical buffs they’d given me repeatedly. Everything about it sucked.

  By the time they zapped back into my cell to buff me, I would’ve done anything for just one more sweet, sweet round of magical buffs for my character.

  One after another, I took down all the crowd favorites in the arena, taking their spot at the top of the hill of gladiators. I hated and loved it simultaneously.

  22

  Where Is My Mind?

  Josh

  Month seven arrived for my new character, and I still wasn’t in any better shape. If anything, matters had gotten worse. When I didn’t get my buffs every twelve hours, I went into withdrawal, shaking and sweating all night.

  The Four Wizards withheld their magic from me every few days so as not to burn me out. No matter how well I behaved or performed in the arena, they tortured me every chance they got. It was so bad I thought about killing myself.

  However, even killing myself in battle wasn’t possible due to their twisted magic items and spells. Whatever happened, I would always miraculously survive the battle. They had actually grown an arm back after I lost it once.

  I had been battling in the arenas five times a week and had for over a month when I finally caught a lucky break. The arena battle started like any other. I walked up the dirt ramp. The crowd went wild, throwing undergarments, flowers, and other items.

  After they settled down, I would make my way around the entire arena, getting the crowd all worked up. When I finished my circuit, I saw a familiar warrior in plate mail enter the arena. I held my bastard sword with both hands as he sauntered over.

  Why did he come out of the same entranceway as me? I wondered.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” the announcer said, his voice amplified via magic. “Tonight, we have a very special performance. An old fan favorite will be joining our current hero of the arena. That’s right. Thero will be teaming up with Yorg to fight a surprise creature. Let me give you a hint. You’ve never se
en this before.”

  As he droned on, telling the crowd about food specials available during the show, I walked up to Thero. He looked different than I remembered him, but I couldn’t place what exactly. We stopped near each other. I sized him up.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked.

  “I could ask you the same thing,” I replied.

  “Long story,” he said. “We should get ready to fight. Have your skills improved any since we last met? I remember you sucked in battle.”

  He grinned as I laughed it off.

  “Maybe I’ll accidentally kill you tonight,” I said.

  He snorted then shook his helmet-covered head.

  “Whatever you say, half-orc.”

  Before I could ask him about Monky, I heard a tremendous roar on the other end of the arena. Both of us turned to the sound. A metal monstrosity stood on two legs, looking us over. I spotted a blade on one arm and a wand of some sort on the other.

  “Metal construct,” Thero said. “We might be in trouble.”

  “You might be,” I said as I activated my barbarian rage. “But not me.”

  Better Barbarian Rage Invoked!

  +50% to hit bonus

  +50 damage bonus

  You get 2 attacks per round.

  I rushed at Thero, swinging my marvelous bastard sword. He took both blows like a champ. Before I could attack him again, the Metal Construct fired the wand.

  Two dozen Golden Bolts of energy shot out in rapid succession. One dozen hit him while the rest burned their way into my chest. I cried out in pain, raging more.

  I turned away from Thero and rushed at the solid metal biped. My old companion also charged, trying his best to keep up with me. All my secret buffs paid off once again.

  Your slash EVISCERATES the Metal Construct for 129 damage.

  Your slash DISEMBOWELS the Metal Construct for 121 damage.

  My enchanted sword sliced through the creature’s metal body like a hot knife through butter. The metal construct reacted to our every move, countering it. My rage left too quickly. While I’d defeated most opponents before it wore off, this was different.

  I felt like the entire audience cheered every time the metal monster got in a solid hit on me or Thero. Did they want us to die? Had they tired of us? Was it time for a new king of the hill in the Midgaard arena?

  With no answers I could come up with, I kept fighting our fearless foe.

  Once the wand of Golden Bolts ran out, the metal construct ejected it from its hand. Another wand, the wood newer, popped out to replace it. What now?

  A cone of fire shot out of the wand, roasting Thero in his tin can. Most of the crowd stood to cheer as the metal construct continued its relentless playing with us. I stood near the high stone wall surrounding the arena, waiting for a good opportunity.

  The metal construct chased Thero around in circles, roasting him every minute or so. If I wasn’t involved, the scene would’ve been a bit comical. As it stood, I needed to finish off the ultimate fighting machine or die trying. Was this a good time to die?

  I charged the metal monstrosity when it turned its back to me. The stupid thing must’ve had eyes in the back of its head because right before I reached the living machine, it turned and swung its massive metal fist. As it hit me, the crowd went wild.

  The metal construct MUTILATES you for 64 damage.

  You have [340/138] health remaining.

  All the extra health the Four Wizards had given me was running out. I needed to think of a better plan. With my rage counter still going, I couldn’t rely on brute force to win the day. The chances of not even surviving the battle were high, but I kept going.

  Your slash DEVASTATES the Metal Construct for 42 damage.

  “For the guild!” Thero shouted then crashed into the metal construct.

  Both of them toppled to the ground. I backed up as the animated creature pointed its wand-hand at Thero. A brilliant cone of fire erupted. Thero screamed as the close flames melted his armor together. I stopped, wondering what to do to survive.

  “Help!” Thero shouted. “I can’t breathe!”

  The wand. Maybe if I break the wand off its hand, I can use it myself.

  I sheathed my sword on my back then rushed forward. The metal construct continued wrestling with Thero, throwing up dust as they rolled around.

  Before it could shoot the wand again, I yelled and dove into the muddle of metal bodies. Thero opened the visor on his helmet, displaying his crazed eyes.

  “Get me out of here,” he said. “I’m begging you.”

  He can take care of himself, I thought as I fought my way closer to the metal construct’s wand. When it finally came within my grasp, I gripped it tight.

  A giant metal head turned to me as if sensing what I was about to do. I grabbed the wand with both hands and snapped it off. That was my first mistake.

  In the instant I snapped the wooden wand, it exploded, sending us all flying.

  The exploding wand MASSACRES you for 212 damage.

  You have [128/138] health remaining.

  Well, that didn’t work out as expected, I thought as I sat up in the sandy dirt, where I landed, to assess the situation. Thero lay on the ground, not moving, while the metal construct carefully got up on its feet.

  After pulling my trusty bastard sword, I screamed and charged at the metal construct, concentrating on its left leg. My first strike hit with a clang.

  Your slash MAIMS the Metal Construct for 51 damage.

  While I wasn’t able to sever its leg completely, the creature began limping. The wand explosion must’ve done some major damage to him. I was surprised I hadn’t died.

  The next few minutes went by quickly, each of us doing as much damage as possible. With the wand gone, the metal construct used the sword on its other arm to fight.

  My health continued declining, but I also kept hitting the unnatural champion. The crowd roared louder than I had ever heard them before as I kept fighting to survive and win.

  The metal construct DECIMATES you for 32 damage.

  You have [12/138] health remaining.

  Your slash MAIMS the Metal Construct for 57 damage.

  The metal construct is dead!

  Combat is Over!

  You get 7,500 xp

  Welcome to Level 7 Barbarian!

  You have 25,100 xp

  You need 8.900 xp for Level 8 Barbarian

  Exhausted, I still managed to lift my sword over my head. The sun’s rays hit it, causing it to sparkle and gleam in the late afternoon. I soaked in all the adulation.

  After a few minutes, I limped back to the ramp leading underneath the coliseum. On the way, I glanced over at the blackened armor completely covering Thero’s body.

  How had he managed to get past the Warp Zone to the higher levels? Did seeing him mean that Monky was around somewhere? Would she help me escape the wizards?

  All these questions and more flew around my mind at breathtaking speeds as I reached the earthen ramp leading down. I waved one more time before walking out of the arena.

  Underground, the damp, cool air felt refreshing. A few of the other gladiators clapped as I shuffled by, dragging my left foot. I pursed my lips together as I walked past them.

  Enjoying the victories would’ve been nicer if I wasn’t a prisoner. The Four Wizards had imprisoned me longer than I thought they would. It was time to escape. No matter what.

  My evil owners rushed over to greet me as I stopped by a healing station. Thom smiled, his red afro waving gently as he nodded his head. Ever crusty Sherlock was smiling.

  “Great job,” Ferris said. “We didn’t tell you about this because we didn’t want you freaking out about it. You did a stupendous job out there today.”

  I sat down on the plain wooden chair as a healer walked over.

  “Are you going to let me go?” I asked.

  The Four Wizards laughed.

  “Not quite,” Ferris said.

  After the healer fixed my wou
nds with magic, the Four Wizards teleported me back to my cave. I had come to know each and every stone that made up the walls and floors.

  “Can I have a buff tonight since I did so well?” I asked.

  Thom shook his head and said, “Not advised, man. We’re already pushing it with you.”

  “Yeah,” Sherlock added. “We don’t want to kill our property.”

  I bit my tongue—literally—as the wizards laughed. They teleported away soon after, leaving me to myself once again. I sat down with my back against the wall.

  As I stared at the stones across from me, I thought about Sarah. Had she only liked me for my physical traits? Or was there something more between us?

  So many months apart was driving me even more insane. Would I ever see her again? Or would I be forever trapped by the Four Wizards in a strange city?

  23

  Call me Spartacus

  Josh

  Another month passed with me winning even more arena battles and racking up even more juicy experience points. I hit Level 8 Barbarian without any problems. While that felt nice for a minute or two, I hated being property of the Four Wizards.

  Life—even trapped inside a prison-game—always ends up changing. My life as a gladiator changed one evening after a particularly gruesome fight in the arena. Instead of my usual cell, they teleported me to a barebones bedroom with a window.

  I glanced out and saw the wondrous city of Midgaard below.

  “This is your new room,” Ferris said. “You’ve been doing well.”

  I turned and smiled despite not wanting to display my emotions.

  “Thanks,” I muttered. “Are you freeing me?”

  Sherlock snorted then said, “Of course not. If slavery is legal here, why would we give up such a fine specimen like you? Don’t talk crazy.”