by Cid Banks
“Why?”
Amy shook her head, her voice solemn. “Everything that happened before the game feels like a dream.”
That sounded horrible. “I’m from New York.”
“Oh, that’s nice.” Amy sipped her beer, nonchalant.
I bit my lip. “Where are you from?”
A frown wrinkled her forehead. “I was American.”
“Was? Aren’t you still?”
She shrugged. “That doesn’t matter much to me anymore. I don’t like to think of the other world.”
“How come?”
“It’s confusing trying to separate the memories from the ones here.”
I imagined my identity disappearing—the cityscape of New York City fading into a featureless, concrete jungle. Forgetting Canal Street. My friends’ faces and names. Everywhere I’d ever been. Every girl I’d ever hooked up with. If we were products of our environment, who the hell would I be without all the stuff that made me James? I drank, hoping the alcohol would make me feel better.
It didn’t. “Damn this game.”
Amy watched me drain the cup and snatched it from my hands. “You need another drink.”
“I’ll need at least five more to get through my existential crisis.” I took the full mug when she returned. “Thanks.”
“Technically, it’s a depersonalization crisis.”
“Thanks, Freud.”
Amy’s laughter was like a drop of warmth sliding down my throat. Talking to her lifted a massive load off my shoulders. I hadn’t realized how much I missed talking to Naomi. I wondered if I’d ever run into her again.
For now, I was content with having Amy’s undivided attention. She was a beautiful woman, but more importantly, she was the type of girl I could see myself dating in the real world. She was down to earth. Easy to talk to. Joyful.
She made my fucked up situation less painful to bear.
“You were great at the party,” she said, finishing her third drink. “I loved hearing Thriller again. What a classic.”
Beautiful and with awesome taste in music. “I know, right? My mom used to play Michael Jackson records over and over. My best friend argued that Prince was better.”
Confusion clouded her gaze.
I opened my mouth to explain, but decided to let it go. What was the point of reminding her of everything she’d lost?
A comfortable silence filled the space between us, broken only by drunken singing by the campfire.
“I’m happy I met you, James.”
My face burned from the warmth in her voice. “Me too.”
Her glistening eyes reflected pure joy. I studied the freckles dotting her nose and brow. We were close enough to kiss.
She tapped her mug. “You make quite an impression on people.”
“That was all the codpiece.”
“Typical guy. I’m talking about when we met at the camp.” Amy slid the mug aside, leaning back. “You had a lost puppy dog look. I could tell you didn’t feel like you belonged.”
I drank to hide my embarrassment. “Not what I wanted to hear.”
“It was cute.”
I smiled. “Are you sure that’s not just my high charisma?”
“It’s not all numbers and stats, you know.” She poked my chest. “You can’t just play a song and get into my pants. That’s not how it works.”
“Good. That’d take the fun out of chasing you.” I leaned beside her, watching the firelight dance over her soft features. “So how long have you been in the game?”
“Oh, I’m not sure. Time is a little wonky in here. It’s hard to keep track of when it started, but it’s been a while.” Amy frowned, searching the sky for a better answer. “Crashing Florian’s party and escaping fulfilled a quest chain that I’ve had for a while. I was surprised when it popped up. It’s almost like I forgot I was on a quest. How long has it been for you?”
“Four days. I was stabbed to death on my first day.”
“Fun.”
“Yeah, it’s been rough so far.”
“Getting killed doesn’t get less unpleasant. I was thrown off a cliff, once. It was horrible.” She grimaced, shuddering against the memory. “I can’t remember my first death. I think I died when the Storm King took Ashwater River. We tried holding him at the bridge. He was stronger than me, but I took him on anyway.”
“I died from a pack of boglins. Like, ten minutes into the game.”
“Oh no.” She laughed, quickly stifling her mirth. “I’m sorry. That’s sad.”
“Technically, it was the giant swamp monster they worshiped that did me in, but yeah. Pathetic.”
“One time, I was stabbed by a merman while I was swimming.” She rubbed her head, frowning. “The spear got my lungs. Bastard left me for dead, and I drowned.”
“Jesus.”
She grimaced. “Or maybe it was a wild boar. I’m not sure.”
Sadness swelled inside me. The confusion might’ve been a side effect of being killed so many times. I didn’t know what was worse, Amy’s memory loss or the cavalier way she spoke about being murdered. This must’ve been why Naomi was terrified of dying. I didn’t blame her. The danger was real and scary.
Amy yawned, shrugging. She knew something was wrong, but I wouldn’t ruin her happiness by dredging up more pain. It was a beautiful night.
“Watching you go nuts with your sword was awesome. I wish bards could do cool things like that.”
“Well, I loved hearing you play.” She rested her head on my shoulder. “It was fun.”
“I’d play something to help you sleep, but Song of Spirit would have the opposite effect. And I’m not sure Song of Seduction is appropriate when you’re like four drinks in.”
I was warming up to my class. The lute had been extremely useful in my last quest. Maybe I wasn’t such a dumbass for picking bard.
“I can hold my liquor.” Her indignant voice faded into a mumble. “So tired. Going to sleep.”
She turned her head and kissed my cheek. The spot on my skin burned with her mouth as I watched the beautiful redhead curl on the stone steps. I draped a blanket over her and unrolled a bedroll beside her. I brushed aside vines and leaned my pack against the stone, and then stretched over the mattress. I gazed at the sky strung with stars. It was a skybox, but it looked so much like home.
Amy dropped a sizzling sausage onto my plate. The savory smell attacked my gut. “Do we have to eat to survive?”
“No.” Amy wolfed down a sausage. “But nothing gets rid of that biological urge to eat. It’s hardwired into our psyches.”
Good to know. “So what are your plans after this?”
“I’m not sure.” She glanced at Cedric, who counted the stolen sacks of gold near the cart. “Why do you ask?”
Because I like you. “I was hoping we could team up.”
“Hmm.” Amy licked her greasy fingers in a suggestive gesture, looking so smug it ought to be fined. “That’s an interesting thought.”
“We get along, right? Why not?”
“I could use the company.” Amy rubbed her bare legs as though she was cold, watching the rebels tally every item in the carriage. “And the music.”
A gold ingot rolled from the hay bed, landing on the dirt.
“Is that a yes?”
“Sure.” Amy nodded, face broadening with a smile. “It’ll be fun.”
Yes! I wasn’t alone anymore.
I wanted to hug her, but I forced myself to stay collected.
“Good morning,” Cedric said, taking a break from counting. “We’ve enough gold to fight a war. A small war, but it’s a start. We also found correspondences with other lords who swore allegiance to the Storm King. Good work on stealing those papers from Florian’s desk, James. We have a good chance of defeating him now that we know more about his troop movements and strategy.”
“Cool. I’m glad it was worth it.”
“We also found ledgers. Florian is a politician and a banker. Without his financial record
s, his fiefdom will collapse.” Cedric grabbed a slab of bacon from the campfire and tore a chunk with his teeth. “The count has men looking for us, so this camp has to be gone before the sun rises over that cliff. Our hungover comrades have one more hour before we leave.”
This was where we parted ways. My bag was already packed, but where should we go? If I were playing this game for fun, I’d follow Cedric, but escaping was still my priority.
Faris gathered equipment, snapping at some fellow rebels still snoozing by the fire. “Wake the hell up!”
I ate as I read some of the papers strewn over an amphitheater bench. “There might be something here.”
Amy looked over my shoulder. “Lots of invoices.”
They were divided into stacks. Some were ledgers. Next to the invoices was a smaller pile of letters. Among the two heaps were pages that didn’t fit into either. I thumbed through them.
They were quests. A monster hunt to slay a mammonhog—a mutated boar monster. A petition from the Faith of the Six requesting the local counts to make charitable contributions. A painted, colorful poster advertising a hedonistic circus. The second monster hunt quest accused the slayer of vivisecting a sheep and trying to pass it off as a legendary rot hound. Quest indicators flashed up in my vision, giving me all sorts of exciting leads for future adventures.
I found one that didn’t fit. It looked like a quest notice. The lute illustration at the top meant that it was for bards, but a string of indecipherable letters covered the page. Suddenly, the UI popped up.
Quest Available: blackspireChain forceResolve_debugContent
[Error 522: Failed to load quest description at (gamestate.irp:136) invalidAdminID:Dale]
Reward: systemModule_questReward debugChest60161, 120 experience
What the hell is this?
The back was scribbled with notes. The cultists have taken the keep. We cannot stay and—
It continued in an incomprehensible string of numbers. Had an NPC stumbled across a bug?
“Wow. Never seen that before.” Amy read the note, brows furrowed. “Weird.”
I pocketed the Debug Chest note. “So I was headed north, to Goldbridge. Is that okay?”
“Yeah.” Amy’s fingers danced in the air, and I imagined her scanning a map. “I love it there. It’s my home base.”
Awesome. Maybe we’d be able to make sense of the strange quest on the way to Goldbridge. Hopefully we’d earn enough money to charter a ship and get the hell out of here.
“Coming?” Amy shouldered her pack, feet already pointed toward the open road.
I walked beside her. “Let’s go.”
Thirteen
New Settlement Discovered!
Goldbridge
Reward: 25 experience
Goldbridge was built on a cluster of rocky islands where the river met the sea. A blinding white castle towered over a sprawling web of bridges that connected and supported the massive metropolis. Dozens of them crossed between the city’s peninsulas and its fortress, zigzagging between the castle’s towers and the mainland cliffs surrounding the city walls.
“Hell of a view.” I grinned, eager to explore. “I’m glad you’re here. Even with a map, I’d get lost.”
Amy smiled at me. “Lots of history here. Hundreds of years ago, it was the seat of the Voranomy Kingdom’s brief reign, which was violent and short. The kings kept getting killed from their convoluted political machinations. One tried to murder his wife with poison and blamed his longtime rival, but he confused the bottles. So he accidentally poisoned every other guest at the party, including himself. I guess the designers concocted elaborate backstories to add more flavor to the game.” Amy touched my hand, directing me toward a cobblestoned path. “It’s this way.”
Heat blazed my cheeks as I squeezed her hand. I already carried a torch for this girl. I probably fell for her when she slew bad guys while rocking a red dress.
I’d never forget that.
As much as I liked Amy, I was worried. Respawning had warped her memory. Hitting on her while she was confused made me feel like I was taking advantage of her.
“So this place is a stronghold for your group?”
“No. There isn’t just one rebellion,” Amy explained. “Cedric is the captain of the uprising in the south, but a different team runs Goldbridge. Plenty like and respect Cedric, but they don’t report to him. They have their own leaders and command structures.”
“Stand aside!” a gruff voice announced. “City guard coming through!”
We paused while guards in mismatched armor marched two abreast through the bustling crowd.
“Wouldn’t it be more effective to organize into a single force?” I asked.
“Maybe, but that’s not how the system works. Any leader with discontented subjects faces the risk of a rebellion.” Amy shrugged. “It’s a dynamic system. People might rise if peasants are treated poorly, if taxes are too high, or if they’re crowning a pretender. The list goes on and on. The Storm King has everyone rising against him, but each group has their objectives. That doesn’t necessarily make us allies.”
I understood the appeal of fighting in an insurgency. The developers must’ve known that players would love battling an over-the-top lord. They scattered bosses all over the world so we’d determine how to save the kingdom. If I weren’t trapped, I’d join.
“This Storm King sounds like a hell of a guy.” He must be a puppy-killing psychopath to have the entire kingdom rebelling against him.
“He’s pure evil.” Amy scowled. “I hate him. He’s killed me. He’s destroyed plenty of lives and triggered widespread famine. Razed villages. Murdered men and women I care about. I know what you’re thinking,” she raged, eyes blazing with passionate fury. “To you, this is just a game that doesn’t matter, but it does, James. Sooner or later, you’ll realize that. He’s not some one-off villain of the week. I’d rip him apart with my bare hands if I could.”
I said nothing. Amy had been in the game much longer than I had. Her identity was warped by the number of times she’d died. It was better to let her vent her frustrations.
We walked in silence, her anger hanging overhead like a dark cloud. Our boots made the wooden bridge creak as we entered an open plaza. White and blue flags were everywhere. They fluttered as we traversed the city.
“Now that we’re partners, shouldn’t we tell each other our darkest secrets?”
Her smile carved dimples into her cheeks. “Good idea. You first.”
“Don’t repeat this,” I said a stage whisper. “I’m clueless about music.”
“Really?” Amy grinned. “Well, that’s a confidence booster. Why the hell did you pick bard?”
“I told myself it was for the challenge, but I probably did it to get girls.”
Amy tutted, her skin mimicking her flaming hair. “I guess it’s working. You got my attention.”
Awesome.
“We have to part ways for a bit.” Amy swiped the air. “I have to run errands. I’m not sure how long they’ll take, but my contacts don’t like strangers.”
She tapped. A new icon popped on my map: Rebel Safe House.
“Meet me here. Mention my name and they’ll take care of you. I’ll introduce you to my friends later.”
“Perfect.” I had my own business to attend to. In the distance, large white sails flashed in the port. Amy had told me Goldbridge was the largest port in the kingdom. It was the best place to find a ship that could bring me to the Ancient Isle.
“Remember to keep your head down,” she whispered. “This city isn’t as safe as you think. It’s a free city, but there are still plenty loyal to the Storm King.”
“Aristocrats from the count’s party will be here, won’t they?”
“They might.” She continued brightly. “Plus, there’s a hefty bounty on you. I would hate to see that handsome mug ruined.”
“Will do.”
Amy blew me a kiss and strolled away. Her leather pants gripped her ass just rig
ht. I watched her muscles bunch in the fabric. Sighing, I tore my gaze from her and walked to the harbor.
I stood under the shadow of a galleon as it rocked in the water. The ship’s deck was trimmed with polished brass and jade-green scales, and a pattern of black iron rivets ran along its length. A masthead of a topless mermaid with wild hair and jewelry protruded from the bow. She held a brass trident toward the sea, as though bending it to her will.
A vast assortment of ships berthed in Goldbridge’s harbor, from small galleys to massive galleons like this one. Brilliant flags flew from their masts as deckhands unloaded exotic goods from the Dragonlands and the Ruby Isles. Some vessels had unusual designs which seemed barely seaworthy. A steel-plated vessel with five decks was moored nearby. Red-caped guards patrolled the deck. Another ship with ragged blue sails was constructed over the bones of a giant whale, its bleached ribs encasing the sides. The skull was large enough to house the ship’s forecastle. One mid-sized vessel had no sails. Instead it contained rows of oars. Purple cloth formed a canopy like a spiked tent. The crew worked silently, staring at me through eyes with no pupils.
“Creepy,” I whispered.
“They’re an odd lot,” said the bearded man I’d been negotiating with. He thumbed a lengthy ledger, nose ring reflecting light with every movement of his head. “Fifty gold for a cabin. It would be no trouble to reserve a more comfortable space. If you’d like, we could also provide you with company.” He dropped his voice to a seedy undertone. “There is a fine establishment nearby with many lovely ladies.”
I waved away his attempt to upsell me. “Thank you, but a small cabin is plenty. My only luggage is already with me, and I don’t need company.”
The man shrugged, jotting my information. As the third officer of the mermaid ship, he was in charge of travel arrangements. He pocketed my gold with a twirl of his mustache. Then he gave me a signed sheet of parchment—an old-timey receipt. I added it to my inventory.
A UI popup indicated that I had reserved passage.
