More Than a Game

by Andrey Vasilyev

  A message popped up:

  The group leader set a new loot distribution rule: Only the group leader.

  Five minutes later, it was our turn to dirty the lake with goblin blood. Frori picked up the fishing pole and cast the lure. At first, nothing more than a few bubbles came to the surface, though they were soon followed by a small whirlpool. A slimy goblin head surfaced, half ears and all wrinkles. His eyes roamed the shore looking for the coin he’d spotted underwater.

  Frori grabbed the coin and waved it around to attract the goblin’s attention.

  “Give it here! Mine!” squawked the goblin, leaping in the direction of the dwarf.

  Our leader nodded his head and, once the goblin was close enough, landed a blow with his club.

  “Ooph!” the goblin howled, trying to sink his teeth into the dwarf’s shoulder.

  Four more clubs rained down on him from all sides. The goblin’s health bar quickly turned red, and a few seconds later, he whined his life away.

  “One down,” noted Frori. “Back to work, gentlemen.”

  The coin flashed off and sank beneath the water.

  And so we took a few turns, waiting in line each time. But the third was almost immediately followed by an announcement:

  You unlocked Level 2!

  Points ready to be distributed: 5

  Judging by the satisfied faces of my compatriots, they also had leveled-up. Frori took one look at our faces and shouted, “We’re not done yet! There’s a goblin coming out of the water!” So we fought on.

  About three hours later, we’d leveled-up one more time, at which point Frori announced, “All right, let’s be done. They don’t give us too much experience, and you’re already a few levels in. We could stay here forever, but let’s go finish the quest, and we’ll do some moose hunting.”

  We headed for the house, where Auntie Doris stood on the porch. She looked at us with her hand on her head.

  “Well, Auntie,” Frori happily proclaimed, “those goblins won’t bother you anymore. We took care of them.”

  “Oh, you’re wonderful!” The old lady looked like she was about to break into a happy dance. “And I made you something delicious!”

  You finished a quest: Rein in the Hooligans.

  Reward:

  200 experience

  3 pieces of cheesecake from Auntie Doris

  3 apples from Auntie Doris’ orchard

  We thanked the kind woman and crunched away at our apples as we walked away from her home toward the town center.

  “Okay, sit here for a minute and distribute your points.” Frori brought us to the nameless town’s central square before heading over to the store, presumably to sell the goodies we got him.

  Okay, so what do we have? Ten points. Here goes:

  Basic attributes:

  Strength: 6

  Intellect: 1

  Agility: 2

  Stamina: 5

  Wisdom: 1

  I decided not to worry too much about it and invested most of my points in strength and stamina, seeing as how those are most important for swordsmen. One point for agility and that was it. I’ll make it somehow without a brain. Brawn—check… Well, future check… Presumably.

  The only difference between the moose hunt and the goblin battle, to be honest, was that the moose were much better looking than the slimy goblins with all their teeth and ears. I almost felt bad killing them. Oh, and we had to run after them sometimes, though we could avoid that by strategically assigning positions to everyone in the group. Also, there was no quest. But it was fun hearing everyone yelling and screaming:

  “He’s running, grab him!”

  “By the legs! Grab his legs!”

  “Don’t let the moose go!!!”

  “Yea-a-a-ah!”

  The day drew to a close, and it was almost dark when the four of us nearly simultaneously unlocked Level 4. With that Frori said, “Well, that’s that, my children. You’re Level 4 now. You got what you wanted, and I did what I said I’d do. It’s time you headed over to the big world, so I’ll show you the road. I wish I could go with you, but I have some things to do here first. As soon as I finish with them, I’ll come find you.”

  We walked through the trees as nightfall set in, finally reaching a yellow brick road.

  “There it is—the road to the city,” said Frori. “Just go straight, and you can’t miss it. Good luck!” The dwarf melted off into the gathering darkness.

  “It’s been fun, guys,” I said to my soon-to-be former group and left it. “Aegan sounds great, but I think I’ll wait until tomorrow. Time to call it a day.” I glanced at my groupmates as they walked away to try to get to Aegan the same day. Then I hid behind a tree not far from the road, added three strength points and two stamina points, and clicked the exit button.

  Chapter Three

  In the Big World

  Everything looks better in the morning. You know how it goes: a problem comes up during the day, and by the time you go to sleep, your brain turns to mush trying to figure it out. Thoughts start popping up in your head that no sane person would deem healthy, “Why me?” or “What did I ever do to deserve this?” Then you decide to screw it all and head to bed—tomorrow is another day. Out of the whole cluster of smart, acceptable, and just plain crazy options, one or two start to crystalize into something you can act on. At least, that’s how it goes with me.

  And on this day, the situation was even simpler. With no problems whatsoever to deal with, I woke up and thought back on my first day in the game. All things considered…not bad! Though I still wasn’t sure why the Fayroll world was so popular. It may have been great for kids and handicapped people. The former could blow off all the angst puberty threw at them—excessive ego and a frustrated sex drive. The latter enjoyed what they couldn’t in this life—people without limbs experienced life with them, mute people talked, and, really, they just got the chance to be treated as equals. Nobody looked at them sideways, and they didn’t have to deal with fake attention being lavished on them. They were just a few more players on par with everyone else. I had to give Radeon some props for that.

  All that made sense, but what about everyone else? What about all the fully functional and often well-off adults? Sure, the game looked great. It was realistic. The atmosphere was interesting. But games like that were a dime a dozen. Why was Fayroll the one everyone stuck with? That was something I needed to figure out.

  I grabbed some food and climbed into the capsule. Time to throw off the shackles of noobhood and take my first steps in the big world.

  I found myself sitting under the same tree I had exited by the day before. The only difference was the daylight I was bathed in. Good morning! Not far away, the same forest crawled with wildlife, and a bit farther away, a pair of elves happily shot their bows and arrows at a beaver that, for some reason, had left its dam and trundled toward me. The elves seemed not to care how wildly they were missing.

  “Hey! I thought elves were all about protecting nature? What are you doing to that poor animal?” I yelled.

  “Oh, stop it!” yelled back one of the elves. “Who do you think we are, Greenpeace?”

  “We’re dark elves, so we’re allowed to,” his friend added more politely.

  “You’re monsters,” I answered. “Torturing animals like that… Just put him out of his misery!”

  The poor beaver by this time was stuck full of arrows, though the fact that none of them had landed a critical hit meant that he couldn’t give up his digital ghost. There was no blood, of course—humanism in action. The little guy kept trundling along without any dying groans for the same reason.

  “Oh, screw you!” the less polite elf announced. “He isn’t hurting, and we’re getting experience.”

  I realized there was no changing their minds, gave up, and started off along the yellow brick road to adventure.

  I should note that the Fayroll world was seamless, so you never had to wait for new levels to load. Noobland, that safe cradl
e where players were never bothered and almost never threatened, was, therefore, indistinguishable from the big world. The border between the two worlds, as far as I could tell, was where the forest opened onto a field from which the walls of Aegan were visible.

  The walk along the road was anything but boring; there was too much going on. First, a sobbing girl, about six or seven years old and wearing a pink dress, stopped me and plaintively cried, “Sir, would you help me?”

  “What happened, sweetie?” I assumed the pose of the Brave and Valiant Protector of Little Girls.

  “My name is Mary, and my little lamb is lo-o-o-ost! We’re always together, and now I can’t fi-i-ind him!” Tears poured from her eyes.

  “No worries, let’s go see what we can do!” I responded.

  You have a new quest offer: Find Mary’s Little Lamb.

  Task: Find and save Sean, Mary Sue’s lamb.

  Reward:

  300 experience

  Accept?

  That word “save” had me a bit worried, but I didn’t have much choice. The hopeful look Mary gave me saw to that…

  The snow-white lamb wasn’t far away. Far from it. It was in the next field over—though it wasn’t alone. The lamb was there with five or so rabbits, if you could even call those creatures rabbits. They had red eyes, long ears, and nasty, whiskered faces, and they were Level 7. They kicked the lamb from one to the other.

  I watched the spectacle and wondered what the developers must have been smoking to come up with that kind of surrealism.

  “Sir, please help Sean!” The little girl pulled on my sleeve.

  “Right,” I responded. “And if I go help him, who will help me? Your little friend’s a goner, and we’d better get out of here before they see us.”

  Mary burst into tears, which attracted the attention of the rabbits. They stared over at us, obviously deciding if they should give us the same treatment as the lamb. Without waiting to see what they concluded, I grabbed Mary and took off in a headlong dash for the road. There, I quickly declined the quest, handed the sobbing girl an apple, and walked away without a backward glance. I felt a little bad, but those rabbits looked nasty. Level 7—are you kidding me? Good thing they didn’t try to hunt me down.

  Suddenly, I heard branches snap to the left of the road. My club in hand, I quickly jumped off to the side. Out of the bushes, leaped five players who then crossed the road and dove into the underbrush on the other side. Behind them, ran a gray-haired old man in the strangest boots I’d ever seen. His enormous beard fluttered in the wind, and he brandished a club in his hands. He, too, crossed the road and followed the sound of branches breaking into the forest.

  “Well, hello…” I shook my head and continued on.

  Three minutes later, the entire scene played out once more, this time, with everyone dashing from right to left.

  Here I am just walking along, and they have someone chasing them up one side and down the other. There’s an interesting life for you, I thought wistfully to myself and kept walking.

  When the group dashed by for the third time, I grabbed one of them by the sleeve.

  “Hey, man,” I said. “Where are you running? Is it a quest? Can I come with you?”

  “Seriously, you idiot?” I found myself stared at incredulously by a fidgety player named Mastik. “That guy with the beard is trying to get us. We went into the forest to cut some clubs, and he came out of nowhere. ‘What are you ruffians doing here?’ And bam—he started hitting us with his stick. ‘You little good-for-nothings! Coming around here ruining the forest. Get out before I kill every last one of you!’ A-a-a-ah!” Mastik caught a glimpse of his pursuer bursting out of the forest and dashed off.

  The old man stopped when he got to me and looked suspiciously at my weapon.

  “Factory-made,” I quickly assured him. “I love the forest. When I was little, all I cared about was protecting wildlife.”

  “Better be.” The old man, who was labeled “Forester,” looked at me darkly and melted into the woods.

  “Crazy,” was all I could say.

  Soon, I got to the edge of the forest, the point that marked the end of the starting location. A dwarf had been planted there to make sure everything was clear, and he had a lazy warning for me, “Friend, this road will take you to Aegan, after which who knows where you’ll follow it? But you won’t be able to come back. If there’s anything you still have left to do here, do it before you leave.”

  “I don’t have anything here. I already did it all.”

  “If you say so,” said the indifferent dwarf. “Good luck in Aegan.”

  The city had me speechless from the moment I entered. In fact, I stood stock-still after my first steps through the gate. I’ve already mentioned the backwater town in Noobland and how quiet and quaint it was—old people going about their business, children playing pranks on the cats…or beavers, I guess. Hushed tones, soft colors…

  But Aegan was a big city that never sleeps—noise, hubbub, everyone running, everyone in a hurry.

  Welcome to Aegan!

  It is a city shrouded in centuries of legend, renowned for the power of its mighty kings, made famous by its great craftsmen, and built on the bravery of its warriors. The name “Aegan” reaches far back into the oldest annals of the Seven Kingdoms…

  I was only too happy to read more about the city’s fascinating history. It was built somewhere way back in the forgotten reaches of time, after which it became a fortress city. Later, it was a stronghold of the monarchy, and it was now a hero city.

  “They have some good writers,” I noted to myself. “A well-written text, easy to read, good presentation.”

  “Don’t just stand there!” A voice behind me boomed, and I was shoved to the side. The voice happened to belong to a hefty dwarf by the name of Gnorin, and he had a following of six other dwarves behind him.

  “Hurrying to find Snow White?” I asked in a needling tone.

  “What, you need some teeth loosened?” Gnorin responded in the same bass voice.

  “No, I’m good,” I responded honestly. “I need them all.”

  “Then don’t be a douchebag. Sorry if I shoved you too hard—I’m a dwarf, after all.”

  “I see that,” I noted. “I’m not blind.”

  “Is there a tavern around here? Or a pub? Really, anywhere they sell beer,” asked Gnorin. “Do you know of any?”

  “How should I know? I just got here.”

  “All right, we’ll follow our noses. Cheers.”

  And with that, the gang of dwarves headed down the central avenue leading away from the gate, one after another. Never fear, off to find beer.

  “What’s with everyone here?” I wondered. “Sadistic elves, alcoholic dwarves… It’s like a bad fantasy novel.”

  I started down the same street, looking around me as I went. The city, of course, was beautifully drawn. The buildings, trees, monuments, inhabitants…everything looked real. If I hadn’t known it was a bunch of code, I would have thought I was in some European city from the Middle Ages. And it was obviously huge. I came across empty corners, found alleys packed with players, saw a few squares littered with tents of some kind, noticed some temples, and even walked by a theater—or maybe a courthouse.

  And so my wandering and wondering led me finally to a place whose name I could have guessed even without the marker: Market Square. It was pretty simple, really. What else could you call a place packed to the gills with everything you could think to buy? People milled around, noise filled the air, and I was jostled from side to side. Somebody was selling something, somebody was buying something, and everyone was talking, screaming, and bustling around all at once.

  “I need a bow, Level 35 to 37! Rare or epic! I can pay!”

  “I’m selling elixirs—health and mana! Concentration potions! Poisons discounted when you buy in bulk! Manufacturer warranty!”

  “I cook with your ingredients! For free! Pay for me to eat the food with you!”

  �
�Buy a sword, get a sheath free!”

  “An eastern dagger, from Sind, sharp as a razor and as long as…your life, eh!”

  “Spider eyes, fresh and gray! For crafting!”

  “Fish! Fresh, still alive! Dead and dried as well! Fish!”

  And stands, stands, and more stands all around, with flags, signs, and even banners. In short, it was a nice place, even a great place, though there was one problem—I had no money. And, judging by the cries I heard from the crowd packing the square, I wasn’t the only one.

  Just then, as if on cue, a little halfling scooted up to me, “Hey, man, give me 10 gold; I need them for a jacket,” he gushed at me in one breath. “Everyone knows me; I’m good for it—I swear. I’ll buy the jacket, go farm some loot, and give it back to you…with five extra!”

  With that out of the way, he stood gazing at me and even urgently tugged on my hand.

  I’ll admit, it isn’t easy to surprise me. I’m a journalist, and I even served in the army, so anyone or thing that can actually surprise me is worth at least my respect. “Ha!” I coughed. “Well, look at you. You’re way too amateurish about this. Use your brain! Write a sign, ‘Help needed for mental development, give money for logic tests.’ There aren’t any around here, so you can cut to the chase.”

  “Are you going to give me the money?” he asked impatiently, apparently without hearing a word I said.

  “No,” I answered simply, and he was off like the wind.

  “Wow,” was all I had to say.

  I started to feel left out, as it was very clear I had no business in a place like that with empty pockets. And that meant I had to get out into the world and somehow make some money. I just had clothes—sort of—and a club, so I had nothing to lose and nothing to keep me there. I pulled up the map, found the city exit, and set off in that direction.

  A forest began directly outside the city gates. Well, not so much a forest; more a grove of trees. Huh, I thought as I walked into the shadows. I wonder if cities in the Middle Ages had woods right outside them, too. From the movies and TV shows I’ve seen, they definitely didn’t. When invaders (or liberators, depending on the plot) laid siege, they ran screaming across an open plain before the camera swept to their hordes scrambling up the walls and putting the city to fire and the sword. Well, or to free it from the clutches of a tyrant. I wouldn’t think they made all that up just for the movies. They probably had some kind of villages right outside the walls and needed grazing land for all their cattle and horses. I guess nothing needs to graze in the game, and there’s no point in making players walk forever, so they put the woods right next to the walls.