The Road to Red Thorn

by Blaine Hicks

  His house was a small two-story prefab that sat on a tenth acre lot at the end of a short dead-end street. Ten years ago, the area had been re-zoned to expand the neighboring industrial park. At the time, the street had been home to many families. Now, the neighbors were gone, one after another taking payouts to relocate. His mom was stubborn and had refused to leave. Their house was grandfathered in and they were permitted to stay if they wanted but couldn’t sell except to an industrial developer. Radley jogged past the empty houses that now sat dark and derelict, but he didn’t even notice them. His mind was focused on the package sitting on their front steps. His mom was home, but she hadn’t touched it. She knew he'd want to bring it inside, and she was right, of course.

  He bounded up the front steps to the porch and scooped the box up. With his free hand, he pressed his thumb to the scanner and went inside. Halfway up the stairs to his room he shouted, “I’m home!” but didn’t wait for an answer. His mom would understand.

  He sat down on his bed to examine the box. It was just a plain brown box. It could’ve been any of a hundred deliveries, but it wasn't anything mundane. This package was priceless, a new hope even brighter than his dream of college and a ticket to a better life. It was a game but also another world. He pulled off his HEPA mask, but the smile remained on his face as he looked down at the box. Searching around in his pocket, he found his plastic RFID card and used the sharp corner like a knife to break the tape’s seal at the seam then tore open the flaps with the vigor of Christmas morning. Inside was a more expensive matte-black box, embossed with the glossy silhouette of a warrior beneath a logo that read “AFR”. Radley slid the fancy box out of the first. The new box had no tape, just four clever tabs that interlocked to keep it closed. They were frustratingly difficult to open considering his urgent need to see inside. When the lid was finally off, the neural gear was revealed, resting lightly on a contoured foam pad. The glossy carbon-fiber lattice sparkled like polished obsidian.

  There had been plenty of other games like AFR, if not quite as advanced. He’d played a few of them in gaming cafes and with friends but he’d never owned one himself. AFR had a dynamic and insanely complex environment. It was rendered in real time by AFR’s advanced supercomputer and was modified as needed for each player. That alone was impressive but not really unique. The groundbreaking upgrade was the interface he held. The headset was worth a small fortune and would be sold only to the wealthiest collectors or the truly obsessed. Radley was neither. He was one of two thousand beta-testers who had received the gear for free and would play the game for a week before the servers went live. This was touted as a formality since the supercomputer hosting the game made updates to the system on the fly. It was said that corrections could be made before a player realized something was wrong. Radley didn’t care about any of that. He had won the lottery, and with it, a chance to leave his bleak life behind.

  The neural gear interacted directly with a player’s brain and offered an upgrade to traditional optical visors and hand-held controllers that had dominated the VR genre since before he was born. AFR’s devs claimed this new interface offered “VRealism.” The rendering approached the human body’s sensory limits making the game environment indistinguishable from real life. The technology had been developed to improve muscle management systems for para and quadriplegics. These systems allowed disabled persons to walk again. Making muscles flex was actually easy but knowing when to flex and how hard was much more difficult. The neural gear solved this by mapping neural pathways and relaying the brain’s output as equipment commands.

  The adapted version for gaming worked in reverse, by dampening the brain’s signal so mobility was lost but retaining the impulses as gaming inputs. The effect immersed a player completely in a virtual environment, free of controllers and optics.

  Radley carefully slid the neural gear over his head and pulled the small opaque visor down which automatically cycled the power on. A prompt appeared, floating in mid-air and instructed him to lie down. When he did, a pairing step began. This included a diagnostic check of both his and the equipment’s health. It connected to his home network and downloaded a firmware update. When it finished a few minutes later, the real-world that Radley knew disappeared and was replaced with an endless whitescape in all directions. The change was sudden and disorienting. The vertigo grew unpleasant but died down before Radley could panic. Finally, he felt his unseen feet settle on some unseen ground. A woman’s singsong voice announced, “calibration complete” and a new prompt asked him to Exit or Proceed. As soon as he hit proceed, a new prompt appeared:

  PLEASE SELECT A NAME AND GENDER.

  CH. 2 The Choice

  Radley chose Male and thought for a moment about what name to use. He had a few standard call-signs for gaming, but none were very clever. In fact, most were some variation of his real-life name: Radley Gerrard Fabrizio. This name was unusual and generally available, but he didn’t use it in deference to the cardinal rule of online accounts: never use your own name. His most common tags were RadgerFab1600 and R@DBOY5001. Since the prompt was asking for a name, not a callsign, he dismissed those, but he couldn’t think of anything else good. With a mental shrug he gave up on clever and entered “Rad Fabulous” then selected “Proceed.”

  There was a flash of light, then he was there, standing in the world of AFR. He had appeared in an empty room just smaller than his bedroom. There was a window to his left and a door to his right. The air was fresh and sweet. Radley breathed in deeply and smelled cut grass and smoky barbeque. He mused silently that it had been years since he’d eaten real meat. The veggie substitutes weren’t quite the same.

  He turned first to the window and took in the picturesque view of a grassy mountainside. The setting sun was disappearing below an orange and pink horizon and Radley stepped closer to the window to appreciate the view. The sunset was perfect. It belonged on a postcard; whatever a postcard was. He hadn’t believed the game had this level of detail. He literally couldn’t distinguish what he was seeing from reality. He reached out, pressing his fingers to the wooden paneling beside the window and felt the textured ripples of wood grain. The boards were slick like old timey wooden handrails of an amusement park; imperceptibly polished each day by thousands of hands. After staring at the mountainside for another minute, Radley sighed and opened the door on the opposite wall. It connected his spawning room to a larger facility that appeared almost empty. The back wall where he’d entered, was lined with a dozen similar doors. He checked a few and found each led to a room similar to his own. None had anyone inside. Radley turned his attention back to the larger room and scanned around it for anything interesting. He could see a white-furred creature standing behind a glass display case at the far end. If Radley had to guess, he would have called the creature a yeti. It wore a brown turtleneck shirt and a white apron. Behind the beast, a large black curtain hung across the width of the far wall, obviously covering something interesting. Rippling light could be seen in the gap where the curtain met the floor.

  Between the yeti and spawning rooms was an empty queue designated with a series of wooden stanchions connected by a golden rope. It zig-zagged back and forth as if a large crowd of people were expected to wait in line to speak with the beast. For now, the queue was empty, so Radley headed for the counter and the yeti. The creature patiently watched him as he slowly worked his way back and forth past the golden rope to the front of the line. Radley considered stepping over the ropes and skipping the designated path but even with nobody in line, cutting corners went against his nature. The whole thing was probably a mind game anyway.

  When he reached the front, he made eye contact with the yeti. The creature was huge, nearly twice his height, and covered in fluffy white fur. Its presence was so realistic that Radley felt uncomfortable approaching it, like he was about to have a conversation with an adult grizzly bear.

  “H-hi” Radley greeted the beast tentatively as he stepped up to the counter.

  The
yeti didn’t seem to share the same reservations and smiled broadly back at him showing off a mouth full of small pointed teeth. “Welcome Rad Fabulous” it announced in a surprisingly theatrical voice “...to the Adventures of a Forgotten Realm!” Radley cracked a smile in return, mostly because “Rad Fabulous” sounded so funny out loud. The yeti took this as a reply and continued. “My name is Corwin, and I will be your counselor as you navigate the AFR character selection. Are you ready to get started?” it asked.

  Radley nodded and the beast continued in the same theatrical tone. “These realms are an immersive experience patterned after fantasy-style role playing games. This is an open gaming experience that will likely be very different for every player. All players exist together but a custom storyline unfolds progressively based on your choices. Many races, skill classes, and professions are offered to each player but there are no hard requirements to a player’s progression and there are exceptions to every rule. Instead, skill bonuses are granted around a chosen class allowing certain abilities develop more easily but you will gain skills in almost any activity you perform...except those skills and spells that must be quested in specific zones.

  The general comparison to traditional RPG’s was already known to Radley but the term “zone” was unfamiliar. At face value it seemed similar to a dungeon, but he wasn’t sure.

  Radley interrupted, “I don't understand what that means.”

  The yeti smiled again and elaborated pleasantly. “A zone is a self-contained ecosystem that operates independent of the open sandbox style of gameplay. Zones will list the area’s skill range at its entrance for both solo experience and boss runs. Preventing death is most likely when adhering to these guidelines. Some Zones contain special rewards for completion including unique skills and spells. These are called quested abilities and each class has a few that are required to become a master.” Radley nodded along now understanding. If the game was a playground, the zones represented the individual equipment like slides, swings, and climbing walls. Each piece would have its own set of rules and difficulty but also unique rewards.

  Radley interrupted again, “What are the requirements to enter a zone?”

  The beast shook his head, “Usually none, just guidelines, but fighting against stronger foes is always possible. Clever planning can offer effective solutions when a frontal assault would fail. Cunning adventurers may find success even when stronger players meet a quick defeat. But, for most, following the zone recommendations will be the surest way to achieve success.” Corwin nodded as if that question was settled then continued his monologue, “To face the threats within the realms, heroes are needed. Each may choose what form they will take. Forty-six different playable races exist and each player may choose from sixteen that most closely match their aptitudes. The beast indicated towards the glass case between them which contained several dozen action-figures. Each was about six inches tall and stood on a small platform with a little sign labeling it. Radley bent down so he could inspect them more closely and saw a few labels he recognized like Fairy, Gnome, and Fawn but some of the names were completely new to him like Pombero and Thri-kreen.

  He stopped when he processed the race limitation. “Wait...you mean there are 30 races that I can't choose to play?? That’s really unfair...”

  The beast’s ape-ish face softened as it considered the matter-a-fact statement. It looked down with a sincere expression. “This rule was not made to limit the player’s experience,” it explained, “but rather to expand it. Interacting with a human’s mind on such an intimate level is...difficult. It is only possible with certain concessions to achieve the required integration. If I only offered the races compatible to everyone, there would be far fewer choices available to you.”

  As quickly as the empathy had come over the beast it was gone again and the theatrical monologue continued. “Eight races of light and eight corresponding races of darkness are given to each player. This limitation is not negotiable, but do not despair. The class selection is diverse enough to offer a wide variety of play styles to every player. When choosing your character, be aware that larger races such as ogres and giants will typically make stronger characters but have slower minds. Smaller races such as gnomes or leprechauns are more adept at casting and performing other complex tasks. The nature of the character you choose will greatly affect your gaming experience.”

  The monologue ended and Radley began to ponder the information. He finally asked, “Would an ogre mage be impossible?”

  The beast smiled cooly, “As I said, there are exceptions to every rule but a bodybuilding gnome is still a gnome.”

  “So it’s impossible?” Radley asked again.

  The yeti thought a moment and began speaking again slowly, almost as if talking to a child. “The ogre race has no natural masters of magic. An ogre interested in becoming a mage would do so with no affinity for any branch of magic meaning the spells would come very slowly. Alternatively, an ogre could gain affinity by finding a non-ogre master willing to teach them but that is unlikely. A suitable candidate would probably need to be threatened or bribed. Success is unlikely since we are talking about master mages. If we assume a master can be found and properly coerced, the affinity and a magical branch would be unlocked but the ogre would still be an ogre. With racially low intelligence, each level gained would profit fewer spell points and effectively fewer spells. The ogre would steadily fall behind other equally leveled mages in their spell diversity and power.”

  Radley understood. “So there are exceptions to every rule but not every exception is an advantage.”

  The yeti nodded. “That is true. The potential of your character to advance and achieve greatness begins with prudent choices. Your race selection will define the nature of your reality.” The comment sounded a little rehearsed and Radley got the impression that another message had been left unsaid. The yeti patiently waited while Radley distilled his thoughts. He finally asked, “Would an ogre mage have any benefits over an elvish mage?

  Corwin smiled. “It might have some benefits, Rad Fabulous.” The smile became a scowl as the yeti seemed to be thinking hard. Finally, Corwin continued “Ogres are classified as large creatures. This fact earns them more constitution and strength per level compared to medium or small creatures. An ogre mage, would be bigger and stronger than nearly any other caster in the realms, especially compared to an elf of the same level. A hit that would cripple the elf might bounce harmlessly off of the ogre. But beware, there is almost always balance to power. Only clever strategy and possibly a dash of luck, can overcome this balance and tip the scales of fate.”

  “What does that mean?” Radley asked.

  The yeti just shrugged in reply. “I don’t know”

  Radley didn’t like the ambiguity and tried to ask more about playing strategies, and the luck the yeti had mentioned but nothing helpful was offered on the subject. Their conversation eventually moved back to the pending race selection and Radley’s choices. With Radley’s questions exhausted, Corwin continued to lecture about the available character choices. “Of the forty-six playable races, twenty-three are considered races of light, and twenty-three are races of darkness. You will be offered 8 of each to choose from. Since there is a general equivalence between your compatible races of light and darkness, your first choice must be to decide your alignment.”

  Radley wasn’t sure why alignment mattered so he asked. “What is the difference between light and dark alignments?” The yeti nodded as if expecting the question. “It is presumed that most players will choose light alignment, as this is the path to great comradery, accomplishments, and accolades. In the cities and towns of light, rules and order reign supreme. City guards usually protect citizens within their walls from robbery and violence. Commerce is regulated and fair. Each player can expect a reasonable return for their efforts and a proper payment for goods. The path of darkness is more difficult. Dark cities are isolated; typically, underground or deep in hostile lands. These places are
full of unsavory characters and no one protects or defends the little guy. Dark isn’t necessarily evil, but strength is the currency of this path. Progress will be much slower because monsters are stronger but return less experience when killed. To make up for the hardship, dark races have innate skills that can make the path of darkness preferable in the long run.”

  Corwin stopped and looked at Radley as if waiting for a decision. Radley's first impulse was the light alignment. His desire to make friends and group with others was definitely a motivating factor, but he also loved a challenge and liked the idea of a long-term advantage. He hesitated. If this had been another RPG, he would have picked the light. The fact that every player in AFR got a unique experience made the dark path more appealing somehow. He planned to put some real work into the game so isolation and difficulty didn’t scare him if he could create something special. Also, this was beta testing. Figuring out what not to do would help him get ahead when the game went live. After a moment's consideration, he said “I choose dark alignment.”

  The game scene froze, and a red prompt appeared before him:

  BE WARNED: Players expecting a reasonable character progression will not find it with a race of dark alignment. Those seeking such an experience are encouraged to choose the path of light.

  Do you still want to proceed as a dark race? Yes/No

  It wasn’t that Radley wanted to be abused, but the more the game dissuaded him from the dark path, the more he was sure of his decision. He wanted to prove to himself that he could do it. “Besides,” he thought, “how bad could it be?”