Continue Online The Complete Series

by Stephan Morse

  You have four days to arrive. In addition, the other scroll attached must be delivered to its recipient.

  Best Regards, Commander Bloom

  The words didn’t irk me. Neither did the sudden recollection of a Disney song. No, it was the fact that the Voice himself appeared in the air above the text and started shouting. His presence was so realistic that I could practically feel the spittle coming off him. Drill Sergeant had found me and was the first to give me a mission as Hermes.

  The second scroll was sealed with red wax. On the top was an odd symbol that looked like a question mark mixed with a triangle. I set both scrolls on the ground and pulled out my coin. Ray’s gift had the chance to make or break this for me.

  “Here’s your chance, Ray!” I said toward the sky. The Voice of Gambling might find this amusing and add his piece. “Heads, I go. Tails, I blow him off.”

  Predictably, the coin came down heads. A quest window came into being while I frowned at the traitorous piece of metal.

  Quest: Pass to Pass!

  Difficulty: Unknown

  Details: The Voices have agreed. You’re kind of a wimp. In order to survive and serve as their Messenger, you need to gain some skills. A trainer has been found and will meet you at [Broken Mountain Pass] in four days.

  Autopilot synchronization low.

  Autopilot may not navigate toward the destination.

  Failure: Revocation of status as [Messenger of the Voices]. All other traits of [NPC Conspiracy] will be unchanged.

  Success: Skills to pay the bills

  “Seriously? Skills to pay the bills?” I raised an eyebrow and looked up. I waved away the system information and sighed.

  They were right. My ability to survive in a game predisposed toward violence was low. The first time I encountered a real player, I would probably die. Here’s hoping that between now and reaching [Broken Mountain Pass], I wouldn’t run into anyone upset enough to kill me.

  I shoved one of my starting player rations into my mouth and contemplated the best way to get around. My destination looked to be nearly a fifty-mile hike away. That was judging only by a solid beam of light in the sky that seemed to be my waypoint. At least the Voices had seen fit to give me clear guidance.

  The second scroll went into my personal player inventory. A shiny border went around the forming computer icon. An indication of [Bound] and [Message for Shazam] went with it. Hopefully Shazam, whoever that was, also resided in [Broken Mountain Pass].

  My stamina looked better after the meal, so I dusted off and went back to walking. There was rain, but it wasn’t real rain. We stayed under trees and other objects when able. During the downtime, Dusk and I conversed.

  “Four days to walk fifty miles.”

  Dusk made an affirmative noise.

  “You know, you’re really smart sometimes.”

  He made the noise again.

  “And then you get into a fight with bird-wasps.”

  That confused the tiny [Messenger’s Pet]. Wasp wasn’t a word from this game. There were a lot of similarities in creatures of Continue Online, but nothing identical.

  “It would help if you spoke English.” Or Arcadian. Whatever language this world used. I’d settle for anything that made sense. Maybe looking at the skills again would be useful. “Can we do hand signals?”

  Dusk looked at me blankly, then his shoulders rippled.

  “You did well guiding new people, but I’m not sure if you’ll be useful in actual combat.”

  Dusk pulled his head back and managed to look completely offended.

  “Right, you are more useful than I am for now, but I’m going to be trained!”

  By someone, in something, with some result. I really needed a hobby to engage myself while walking around. Something that didn’t involve talking to Dusk.

  No good ideas came to mind. Most of these games had trade skills, as they were referred to. Noncombat-oriented abilities. I had directed more than a few players toward trainers during my time as William Carver. Or, as I wanted to refer to it, the Age of Carverism.

  Jewel-crafting wouldn’t work on the go. Chopping down trees for wood gathering seemed annoyingly pointless. Walking while trying to sew or hobble leather together would likely get me killed by my own crafting accessories. Being a wandering minstrel wasn’t to my tastes.

  “What would help was if this cane was a staff all the time.” That would assist me in walking a lot more. I wasn’t hunched over like Carver had been. This fatigue de-buff started with my Hermes character from the King’s Taste Tester event was now a minor impact.

  King’s Taste Tester

  Results: Near death has reduced your endurance for the next few days.

  Personally, I felt as though the game was giving me a lot of slack already. Running for ten minutes was out of the question in real life. Voices help me if a dinosaur appeared out of nowhere and tried to eat my face. They were probably factoring in all the dance practice I had as if it was a representation of the real me. Real me danced, but it was sad. Of course, digital me was also kind of depressing to watch, no matter how skilled.

  “How long before I lose this belly?” I poked at my stomach while we walked around another set of trees.

  Dusk shrugged from where he rode on my shoulder.

  “How long before sunrise?”

  Dusk shrugged again.

  “How long before I cut off your cupcake supply in my Atrium?” I glanced at the tiny dragon from the corner of my eye.

  Dusk looked alarmed, then yawned in my face from his shoulder perch.

  “Just testing to see if you’re awake.” A yawn escaped me as well.

  We marched onward. There were far too many miles to cover at this rate. Given the rough terrain of this woodland and my general lack of knowledge on how to traverse it, I was making a little over a mile an hour. Near dawn, I was practically stumbling around in complete exhaustion. Maybe fifteen of the fifty miles had been navigated successfully.

  “Halt!”

  I made it a few more steps before the word registered. Dusk had long since passed out with part of his tail curled around my neck for stability.

  “Halt or be shot!” the voice came again.

  One of my feet fell forward before my body rocked to a stop. I looked around in half a daze. “Okay.”

  “What do we do?” the voice said. He sounded a bit younger than me from his tone. The way he spoke, however, belayed a much lower intelligence.

  “I don’t know, he just stopped,” a second voice said. He sounded higher-pitched but equally challenged upstairs.

  “They never stop. They always run.”

  “Maybe he’s stupid,” the high-pitched one said.

  My eyes rolled in exhaustion and nearly didn’t open again.

  “Halt!” the second one yelled, nearly cracking his voice. A teenager?

  “And then?” I asked. My head was falling to one side. Both hands were grasping on [Morrigu’s Gift]. After six hours of hiking, I’d managed to get the shape-changing weapon to elongate into a walking staff. The damage and weight were unchanged from its other form.

  “Then we kill you and take your stuff.”

  What? They would what me? Dying wasn’t a good option at this point. I had too many miles and not enough time.

  “Dusk?” I questioned the tiny little creature.

  A snore answered me. Somehow he’d twisted up around my shoulder and seemed to be almost a solid object instead of a flexible dragon thing.

  “How are you asleep?”

  “Okay! We’ll be killing you now!” one voice said.

  “Don’t tell him, you idiot, just shoot!”

  “Can I buy a vowel?” I yelled, hoping the complete absurdity of my question might distract them. Plus, being mugged in the middle of a forest was unattractive. Continue Online did have pain feedback.

  “What’s that?”

  Oh, thank god, they were both as stupid as they sounded.

  I ran again. The guys were du
mber than the [Terri Terra]s, but their arrows were a lot faster. One zinged right into my backside and shaved off a significant chunk of health.

  “AHHHHHHHHHH!”

  Skill Demonstrated: [Cowardice]

  Type: Basic

  Rank: Unranked

  Details: This skill might just save your life, at the cost of your public image. Further information will be provided upon finalization of the mentioned skill.

  “Really?” An arrow flew past my head as I ran. The dumb and dumber duo behind me kept yelling halt over and over. “I mean, I don’t know how to kill people!”

  My protests of the machine’s response to my flight were ignored. An arrow grazed Dusk’s shoulder, making the small creature wake with a squawk and fall off my shoulder. I completely panicked and lost my footing in a stumble.

  “Little”—I corrected myself—“Dusk!”

  The nearest large tree became cover as I scrambled to get behind it. Two more arrows went by but missed. My pursuers were clearly novices with their weapons. There was no way that my Rank Three [Blade Novice] included a high enough dodge.

  “Halt! We want to rob you!” one of them shouted in a bout of brilliance.

  “Is there a no option?” I yelled back. “I don’t have anything!”

  “He doesn’t have anything?” one of them whispered to the other in a moment that felt very out of place for a forest.

  They argued back and forth, but the arrows had at least stopped flying. I risked a glance around the corner and saw my [Messenger’s Pet] sitting dazed on the ground. He gave out a pitiful mew similar to a cat’s.

  “Come here, Dusk.” My voice stayed low. “Come on, big guy. Cupcakes.”

  It worked a little. The miniature dragon was only half aware, but his head swiveled in my direction and one ear perked up.

  “Come on. Cupcakes. Cookies. Ice cream.”

  “Did he die?” Dumb said.

  “I dunno. Go look,” Dumber responded.

  “No, you go look.”

  “No, you. I shot him. You go look.”

  Oh my goodness. They were special all right. Both of them wore swords that looked dulled by misuse. They had maybe four more arrows left in the quivers on their backs. One had a mangled face. His hair had been cut short over a leathery-looking tan. Being downwind, I could also tell that they smelled nearly rancid. The rain last night had probably been their only bath in months.

  One of my hands pressed at mushy dirt and triggered an idea. What was my other top Rank? Being an actor? I hastily picked up some of the mud and undid my gear a little. The mud mixed in with blood trickling from the wounds I had received. They didn’t sting anymore, so it was easier to be indifferent about them.

  “You dead, mister?” Dumb, or Dumber, I wasn’t sure which, crept in closer. His footsteps were clear in the silence.

  Dusk was still squawking, but neither of the bandit archers seemed to pay attention.

  The mixture of mud and blood was rubbed on my face and arms. I had enough health to take another arrow hit, so I decided to go for it.

  “Ahhh!” I ran again.

  “Watch out, he’s charging!” the other bandit said, and an arrow flew my way.

  I had enough time to peek over my shoulder and see the bolt lodge right into my shoulder. I let it hit me and gave an exaggerated spin on the way down. It hurt, but not so much that this big of an act was necessary. The ARC provided only a portion of the feedback a real arrow would cause.

  “Nooo!” Mud was smeared all over me. My body hung over bushes and weighed them down. [Morrigu’s Gift] was clutched in one hand in its staff shape. My eyes crossed in concentration as the sound of one bandit got closer.

  “I think he’s dead.”

  “Check him! Then take his money!” the one farthest away said.

  Just a little bit closer. Please let this work. I didn’t want to be mugged by some random NPC during my first round of playing. That would be brutally pathetic. My breath stilled and fingers clutched the end of my would-be weapon. Triggering the switch to its giant two-handed form was impossible, right? At most, especially with Ray’s penalty to luck, it would stay a walking stick.

  A footstep too close and an abrupt pull on my shoulder sent me into a panic. I swung [Morrigu’s Gift] and growled as we flipped around. There was a flash of movement and the barest hint of resistance. By the time my brain registered what was happening, Dumb or Dumber wore a surprised expression. Red splattered across the bushes and trees in a thin line. I must have mirrored his expression as notifications came up in my view.

  [Weapon Focus: Bladed] Rank 2 adds 20% Damage

  Defender failed awareness check, dodge check, reaction check: [Unexpected Strike] Adds 150% Damage

  Attacking weapon exceeds defending armor value

  Forest Bandit has died!

  There were a lot of boxes that were beyond me. Dumb or Dumber was falling apart at the middle. My vision wavered as I looked at the weapon in my hand. No longer was it a cane or a walking staff. [Morrigu’s Gift] had transformed into Carver’s two-handed blade. The exact action I’d never expected.

  Then it had sliced right through the bandit.

  I had killed someone.

  [Acting] Skill Successful!

  [Weapon Focus: Bladed] has increased

  [Acting] has increased

  Act: [Play Dead] demonstrated and received!

  There were a few other minor messages about stat gains. They were lost and faded into the background in the suddenness of my situation. Behind the falling body was the second bandit.

  His face looked shaky as he drew his bow and glared down the arrow’s length at me. “You shouldn’t have done that. You shouldn’t have killed him.”

  The arrow flew, and I panicked. [Morrigu’s Gift] twisted as I tried to use the giant flat end as a shield. The arrow collided with my hastily erected defense and slid off. My eyes were busy staring at the crumpled form of my first victim in this world. Monsters and ink creatures, spiders and straw dummies were nothing like killing a person.

  “Now we got to kill you.” My remaining bandit assailant was doing something else. He had a long object in his hands and pulled a cord along the bottom.

  I had started shaking. The world seemed such a small place now. Almost like being back in that morgue, identifying her remains. Only now I was the killer.

  There was no time to ponder my mistake. The other bandit pulled on his device and a bang joined with a flare going into the sky. Bright red stood out against a cloud-speckled backdrop.

  “We’re gonna kill you now.” My second attacker was laughing.

  This was just a bandit; it was just an NPC! A person designed to be brought down by those seeking justice! This was too real. I fumbled and slammed the log-out button only to get a rejection message.

  Log-out unavailable during combat

  System Help!

  Logging out during combat is disabled unless emergency conditions are met. Conditions may include loss of power, biological imperative, threats to safety, and law enforcement.

  “What?” I mumbled. “Oh no. Oh no.”

  They were going to find me. Whatever reinforcements he’d called for must be homing in on that flare.

  “Dusk!” We had to go right now. “Dusk! Come on!”

  I had no idea if the little guy would be able to track me down in a forest or not. My skills were only a fraction of William Carver’s, so there might be something important missing.

  “Gonna kill you.”

  Another arrow slid through the flesh on my arm, leaving a trail of pain. I dove out from behind the cover and swung the giant sword at my second attacker.

  Messages flashed about how the bandit successfully parried. They were annoying because I could already see that he held a smaller sword and had deflected the bulk of my swing. His face showed strain across the scarred features.

  My blade swung a second time, and the bandit attacked me back. Parrying wasn’t a skill I was familiar with, so h
is attack shaved off another chunk of my life. My sword spun as if dancing to catch the bandit on his open side. Dark metal lodged deep into his side, and he froze with a gasp of air.

  His eyes lost focus. Words passed across his lips, but they were inaudible over the ringing in my ears.

  “Dusk?” I had to get him. We had to get out of here.

  A hunting horn let loose with one long blast in the distance.

  My [Messenger’s Pet] was making hurt noises from the ground. I grabbed him and took off running toward my quest marker. There was no time to take a slow stroll. A minute later, the horn sounded again, and I kept up my panicked dash. The stamina bar I’d set up as Carver was fading quickly and citing penalties from my taste-tester event.

  My feet didn’t stop blazing a path through the trees until my stamina bar was near zero. I ground to a slow walk, trying to catch my breath.

  “Are we safe?”

  Dusk had been trying to clean a wound he’d received from one of the arrows. His wing had a slight tear. I had nothing to help out. No bandages. No magical cure spells or compounds. The other four players I’d worked with during the [Maze of Midnight] made me look like a complete amateur. Who had killed two people.

  “Voices, Dusk, I killed someone.” It was just a game. This whole thing wasn’t real. All of it was code and science being beamed into my brain.

  Then why did I fight to keep Dusk safe? Why not let him die? Voices, I had no clue what would happen if he did die. There were bundles of questions and not enough answers. James. James had the information.

  I listened carefully for sounds of pursuit. There was nothing obvious enough for a layman like myself to pick up. Not that anything shy of shouting or crashing would stand out in these woods. Just to be sure, I put another mile between myself and where those bandits had been.

  Dusk at least looked a bit better now. The wound on his arm had clotted. My own health was very slowly recovering despite a few bleed debuffs. I sat down and shoved one of the new player bundles of food into my mouth and was pleased to see it helped a little. The game mechanics weren’t completely against me, despite the realism of these surroundings. Mentally I ran through the list of things I needed to know now.