Gord and Malak, another guardian troll, wait beside the door as Jameson leads Glenn outside. Glenn wears nothing but a gray tunic and socks when he emerges.
“Now, what’s this you said about a talking donkey?” asks Glenn just before Gord and Malak grab him by the arms.
“You!” He struggles against their grip. When he realizes they aren’t letting go, he spits in my direction. “And you, guard, you’ll pay for this too. I promise you that.”
Jameson looks fearful of Glenn’s threats as he backs away.
“Don’t worry about him, Jameson. I need one more thing of you and then you are free. Ring the town bells. I want everyone here for what happens next.” The only way for them to know the truth is for them to witness it with their own eyes.
He disappears from sight and several minutes later, the church bells ring out. There are gasps of horror as people spill out of the inn and from their homes. Some run back in for weapons, but return too afraid to use them. I’m sure many of these people have never seen actual trolls before, having only heard of them from stories. The rogue and the wizard heroes that I recognize from my encounter in the field exit the inn, ready to fight, but when they see so many trolls standing before them, they simply watch from the porch. Jameson does his best to calm people as they enter the town center, where Glenn is forced to his knees.
A man in frilly pajamas and wearing slippers rushes through the crowd. “Jameson, what is the meaning of this?!” His face is beet red as his head twists between us and Jameson like a sprinkler.
“They don’t want us. They want him.” Jameson points at Glenn.
“This is an outrage!” the man shouts. “There will be consequences!” He puffs out his chest and points an old wrinkled finger in my direction.
“You are sure this is the spot?” I ask Jameson.
“We have witnessed it several times,” he confirms.
By the time people quit filing into the courtyard, several hundred wide eyes search for answers. I wonder how many of Glenn’s army came from this very town. It’s as big of a shock for the trolls to see how the other half lives as it is for the humans to wake to the stuff of their nightmares. Whispers snake through the crowd on both sides.
“I’m sure you are surprised to find us here.” Many faces wince at the roar of my trollish voice. “If there was another way, we would not be here. You all have been taught to fear the trolls, told that we are nothing more than murderous monsters dead set on destroying everything you know and love. I am here to tell you that is a lie. We live, have families, grow old, and die, just like you. The heroes of old have returned to this world, many of them human, but I am also a hero and I have set it upon myself to right the wrongs against my people. The man standing before us is a murderer. He has led raid after raid on my village, killing my people and terrorizing their way of life.” I pause to let that sink in. “Long ago, the trolls were a mighty race. They traded and adventured beside man and dwarf alike. I hope that one day, they do so again.
“As with man and troll alike, there are those who do good and those who do evil. The same is true for heroes. The man before you is not a true hero. He takes pleasure in the pain of others. Therefore, it is my duty to make sure he hurts no one again. Tamora.”
She hands me a dagger.
“You will pay for this, you son of a—” The dagger slices through Glenn’s throat, draining his HP and decreasing my reputation yet again.
He vanishes from existence, leaving Gord grasping at nothing before reappearing a few feet away, this time level sixteen.
“Someone help me!” he shouts just before I rip through his throat a second time. The crowd stirs, but no one moves to his aid.
This time when he respawns, his eyes are full of madness. “Help me or I’ll kill you all!” he rages at the crowd. I kill him again, but this time, my reputation only decreases by half.
“I’ll burn this whole town to the ground!” At level fourteen, my reputation stays the same. It seems they are finally seeing him for the monster he is.
“…your children, your children’s children, for as long as I live!” Level thirteen.
By level five, Glenn has broken down to tears. When he hits level one, he drools at the mouth and just mumbles to himself.
“This is a dangerous man. If I were you, I would lock him up before he has a chance to hurt someone you care about.”
“What now?” asks someone from the crowd.
“Now, we will go back to our village. We wish you no harm, but if we are attacked, we will respond in kind. My people do not speak the common tongue, so it will be hard for them to communicate with you for now. We will leave you in peace and pray that you will do the same for us.” I turn to the trolls. “It is time to return home.”
Glenn crawls on all fours as we walk away, mumbling to himself with drool dripping down his chin and madness raging in his eyes. I know this isn’t the end of him. In a world where heroes never die, how could it be? I just hope the townspeople keep him locked up long enough for me to finish the final stages of my plan.
* * *
Ismora waits for us next to Limery’s mother when we return. Aside from a new scar in the shape of Limery’s hand, she looks back to normal.
“How did it go?” she asks.
“Time will tell, but I think I may have changed some minds. If nothing else, it will be a while before Glenn troubles you again.”
“What do you mean ‘you’,” asks Chief Rizza. “Are you leaving us?”
“My time here is nearly up. While I will do my best to try and come back, I don’t know how long I will be away or if I will even be able to return. I want to do everything that I can in what little time I have left to make sure that I set you up for success after I am gone. I think we have gained the respect of one town, but the island is large and there are many others who will attack simply for the wyrms.”
“And how exactly do you plan to stop that from happening?” she asks.
“By going straight to the source. Lillith, may I speak to you in private for a moment?”
Limery’s mother smirks. “Why, Chod, I thought you’d never ask.”
She sits on the table in my hut and I take a seat on the bed.
“What’s on your mind, big blue?” she asks.
“I need to get a message to the king.”
She sits in silence for a moment. “The king? As in—”
“Yes, the king. It’s life and death important. Can you do it?”
“Chod, imps aren’t the preferred messenger of the crown anymore. Not since everything happened with the wizard.”
“Just tell me, can you do it or not?”
She runs the tips of her talons over her bottom teeth. “I may have a few favors I’m still owed from the old days.”
“Good. How fast can you get there?”
“If I don’t stop to rest, I can have it there by tomorrow.”
“Then we have no time to waste.”
Lillith reaches in a small pouch and pulls out a quill and some paper. “What? Some habits die hard. Now, what should your message say?”
“Hold on.” I find my own satchel and pull out the crown I looted from Paltras Ruins.
Item. Kingly Crown. +10 Charisma.
I put the crown on and my head spins for a moment. Confidence rushes through my body, and I feel like I could run the world if I wanted to. Why don’t I? I’d make a pretty good king.
“Chod?” Lillith vies for my attention. What is it we were doing?
“Right, the message.” I remember my goal and let the increased Charisma guide my every word as I tell her what I want to say to the king. The words flow out of my mouth so easily that I wonder why I never went into politics. I’d be a great king. The thought crosses my mind again. I just need a bigger army and I could conquer this entire island. Why didn’t I wear the crown when I spoke to the seaside trolls? If I had, they certainly would have joined our cause.
Lillith pulls the crown from my head and
it feels like a weight has been lifted. My mind clears and I’m glad to be returned to my lowly six Charisma.
“Would you like me to read the message back to you?” she asks.
“No, just make sure it finds the king.” I trust that the Charisma did its job. “Thank you, Lillith. For everything.”
With a wink, she disappears out the door.
39. Game Over
The blue haze distorts Valery’s face as she leans over the pod. The nanite level decreases and the door to the pod opens, allowing me to sit up. I cough up some of the nanite gel and my lungs take in a breath of air they haven’t experienced in a month. My body feels fine, better than fine, actually. Like I could run a marathon if I wanted.
I lay there for a minute. It’s not easy knowing that I might never see my friends again. Limery loved me more than any real person. Gord became like a brother to me before it was all said and done. Tormara, Chief Rizza, Yashi, and all the others hold a special place in my heart as well. To me, they’ll always be more than video game characters, even if I never see them again.
The blue gel filled with nanites rolls off my arms and back as I sit up in the pod. The other twenty-four white pods are closed, their occupants still logged in the game. Video feeds are mounted over their pods, displaying their in-game actions in third person view. Monitors surround each pod with their vitals and in-game stats side by side.
I’m shocked when I see several dozen new pods against the far wall. Black pods like mine. They’re empty, but for how long?
“Well, what did you think?” asks Valery. She wears a red dress that hugs her body just like I remember. It’s still perplexing to me how someone that looks like that works in a place like this.
“It was amazing. It actually felt like I was a troll. After my body adjusted to the difference in size, it was like I was a six-hundred-pound beast of pure muscle. And the NPCs, they were indistinguishable from you and me.”
“That’s weird.” One of the technicians goes over to the monitor displaying lines of code.
“What’s weird?” Valery asks.
“Thompson, come over here,” the tech calls another. “You see this?”
“Yeah, that’s…strange.”
“Will you two nerds tell me what the hell it is you’re rambling about?” Valery scolds them.
The first technician runs his fingers through his balding hair. “Something is up with the AI. It’s behaving…abnormally.”
“Yeah,” Thompson echoes. “It’s behaving sporadically, almost like it’s missing something. You see this?” He points to the screen, showing Valery something I can’t see. “This line of code keeps repeating itself. It’s like it’s searching for something that isn’t there.”
“What does that mean exactly?” she asks.
“I’m not sure. It’s interrupting certain processes. Spawn timers are off for animals, for starters. There are gaps in the mana flow, too.”
“What has changed that would explain the sudden chaos?”
“Nothing. We haven’t changed anything. We logged Chad out, but he’s not a part of the system.”
“Okay, well, keep an eye on it and let me know if anything else comes up.”
The technicians take a seat and begin typing commands into their tablets. I hope everything is fine for those still in the game.
“Mister Johnson, we have your clothes ready if you would like to change into something less revealing.” Valery winks.
In the bathroom, my clothes are neatly pressed and folded on the counter. I slip out of the spandex-style underwear I wore for the last thirty days and quickly dress. I thought I would feel like I needed a shower, but the nanites kept me so well groomed that I feel cleaner than I ever have.
When I exit the bathroom, Valery is waiting for me, tablet in hand.
“We have an exit interview for you to complete. Once you’re finished with that, you’ll be free to leave.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that. You served your time, now you are ready to become a productive, and hopefully less trollish, member of society. You did a lot of good things while you were in Isle of Mythos, Mister Johnson. Imagine if you had that kind of resolve outside the game. You could really make something of yourself.”
I’ve heard those words a million times from my parents. “If you only applied yourself, you could do anything.” As if playing games for a living isn’t exactly what I wanted to be doing with my life.
“Do you know if my parents are coming to pick me up?”
“We haven’t heard anything. We’ll be happy to drop you off at your home if you need.”
They missed my trial. They missed my sentencing. Thirty days locked away in a game and they haven’t made the effort to secure me arrangements. What could be more important than their own child?
She hands me the tablet and I start answering the questionnaire. Questions about my in-game experiences such as “How were the taste and smell receptors?” “Were there moments where you were keenly aware that you were in a game?” It’s nearly a hundred questions asking for my input on ways to improve specific instances in-game.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Shoot.”
“Glenn, what’s his deal?”
“He’s a special case. You know, most criminals are still just normal people. Even for those who commit violent crimes, it usually happens in a fit of rage. They’re triggered by something and have a reaction. Not to say they are all nice, because many of them are not, but they are just people. Glenn may be the only true psychopath of the bunch. The things we have watched him do… He’s more charismatic than you would believe. No one else besides you and him were able to gather a force of hundreds of NPCs to fight for them. He did it multiple times, even after suffering defeat. You may have knocked him down a peg with the shenanigans you pulled, but I have no doubt he’ll be back.”
“Don’t you think it’s dangerous, having someone like that in a game where he can actually hurt people?”
“Until you, he was only ever hurting NPCs. He actually seemed to be functioning better for a while there, so we let it continue. The name of the game is rehabilitative therapy after all. If he can take out his aggression and psychopathic tendencies in-game and live a normal life out of it, I’d call that a win.”
I don’t know if I buy that. Especially in a game this realistic.
I hand Valery the tablet when I’m done, and she escorts me into a waiting room.
“We’ll come find you when your ride is ready.”
It feels like hours have passed when Valery burst into the room. “Come with me.” She practically pulls me out of the chair. She talks as we speed-walk down the hallway. “Our guys have been going over the coding for hours now, trying to figure out what could be causing the malfunction in the AI. It’s grasping for something that’s not there. It took a while, but we finally narrowed it down.”
“What is it?”
Her dark brown eyes stare into my own. “You.”
“Me?” How is that even possible?
“Yes, we don’t know how, but the AI thinks that you are part of the system. Something must have happened when you started a regional event, or either all your influence on the game caused the AI to think you were part of the system. We don’t really know. All we know is that unless you get back in the game, it is going to crash.”
My sentence is up, though. It’s finally time for me to go home.
“Can’t you just restart it?”
“You don’t understand. If the game crashes, it doesn’t get rebuilt. It would start over as something new. There’s no backup for NPCs when they behave like real people. Players would be booted, and every town, city, and NPC that is currently in the game would cease to exist. Forever.”
I want to go home, order some pizza, and team up with Taryn for a good smash-fest. I haven’t talked to him in a month.
But then, Limery’s face flashes through my mind along with every other member of the
troll village. They trusted me with their lives. If I leave, they would all be gone in the blink of an eye as if they never existed. Everything I did would be for nothing.
“What do you need me to do?”
“Log back in. Give us a chance to fix this.”
“And if you can’t?”
“Then you get to decide when it all comes crashing down.”
“I’ll do it on one condition.”
A smile spreads across Valery’s face. “What is it?”
“My friend Taryn, I want him to join me in-game. If I’m doing this of my own free will, then I want my partner in crime for whatever comes next.”
I strip down into the nanite receptive underwear and take my position in the pod. I thought I would be going home today. Back to an unfulfilling life of talking down to other gamers on the internet. For the past thirty days, I never really missed my old life. I missed Taryn occasionally, but everything else didn’t seem to matter much. The minute I logged out of this game, I missed the people I met there. That tells me all I need to know.
Thirty days ago, I was sentenced to troll.
If Valery’s people can’t fix the problem, if me being in the game is the only way for my people to keep living, then I’ll take a life sentence.
Acknowledgements
Thank you for reading my book! I hope you had as much fun reading about Chod and his adventures as I did writing them. If so, please leave a wonderful review. Reviews are the lifeblood of indie authors like myself, and the more positive reviews I have, the more likely it is that others will read my books as well.
There are so many wonderful people that played an integral part in the creation of this book. You all have my sincerest thanks. Rick Scott, for helping with the ending when I couldn’t see the forest for the trees. Blaise Corvin and Lars M., for helping a friend in need out of the goodness of your hearts without asking for anything in return. My Patrons: Michael Didato, Taj El, Richard Hummel, and Tim Krason. You all really go the extra mile. Caroline, for encouraging me to think outside the box. My amazing team of beta readers: Kegan Hall, Ian Mitchell, Michael Spizzirri, Cindy Koepp, Ezben Gerardo, and Jake Goodrich.
Sentenced to Troll Page 26
