Wolf Mountain: A litRPG Novel (Adventure Online Book 1)

by Isaac Stone

  As I placed the logbook back into the backpack, something caught my attention. A gleam of sunlight on a stump flickered at the edge of my vision. This was like the old text adventure Zork, but I was inside it. On the top of a tree stump sat a metallic object. I place the backpack down, and then walked over to look at it.

  The stump was cut by a human hand. It was clean across the base. The stump stood three feet high. The sap oozed from the cut and it appeared to have been chopped down within the past few days. I looked around it and saw no tree trunk. Either it was hauled off or the game designers didn’t think it important to include in this scenario.

  The stump didn’t interest me so much as the pocket watch placed in the center of it.

  I picked up the watch and looked at it. It was hard to tell when it was made. The basic pocket watch design hadn’t changed much over the years. The same small fob that fit into my hand I’d seen in stores over the years. My grandfather had one and dad kept it hidden away. It was one of the few things he had to remember him. It had the stem on the top covered by a metal loop for a chain. The color was copper and it had a blank shield engraved on the cover. I looked at the shield and saw the words “Sandstone Gems” on it. This was part of the game, so I opened the cover and looked inside.

  Instead of a clock face, there was a blank screen. Okay, this was supposed to be some way to communicate with the game crew while I was inside the game. How the hell was it supposed to work? In their haste to get me into the chamber, they hadn’t told me much about what I was walking into today. I had a thought and pressed the watch stem down.

  The screen in the watch illuminated. A few seconds later, it focused into the face of Rhonda. She held a clipboard of some kind and starred down. I guess she hadn’t expected me to find the watch this quick. I cleared my throat and caught her attention.

  Her dark eyes swiftly turned to my direction and she brought her side of the screen closer. “Vince,” she said to me. “How are you doing? I see you located the communicator. Was it hard to find?” She seemed excited to talk with me.

  “I don’t’ know how you could’ve made it more obvious,” I told her. “It was right out in the open on a tree stump. All you needed was a sign with an arrow pointing down to make it better.”

  “You would be surprised at the trouble we had making contact with our in-house test crew,” she laughed, “when we first tried out the VR system. Everything you need to communicate with us has to fit the standards of the time. Can’t have a smart phone in the 1920’s.”

  “So what is this year supposed to be?” I wanted to know.

  “September the first, 1929, just before the stock market crash. Don’t worry; it doesn’t play into the game, so you won’t need a stock ticker.”

  “I’m relieved to hear that. Just where did you drop me?”

  “North West Pennsylvania. You are in wild and wooly country. You’re also in the mountains, so we didn’t have to build a city for this run.”

  “Good to know,” I responded to the face in the screen. “So how do I find out about the game? Don’t tell me this is the only way I’ll know what to do.” I wondered how my voice sounded to her over this connection as hers was a little muffled.

  “Did you find the backpack?” Behind her, I could see several of the other crew members look over her shoulder.

  “Just searched through it. Thanks for the sandwiches, by the way. Watercress?”

  “You guessed it. Ham and cheese comes later. Go pick up the logbook; it will have what you need for the rest of the game.”

  I carried the watch with me over the backpack and pulled out the logbook. This time I thumbed through it. I stopped after the first ten or so pages. They were blank, but there was plenty of information beyond them.

  “Wolf Mountain,” read the title page. “An adventure in the Sandstone Gems system for one or more players.” I turned the pages and continued to read.

  “Welcome to Wolf Mountain”, the introduction read, “we at Sandstone Games are grateful you have decided to play our VR game system. We’ve included this logbook to give you information on the game objectives, scenario, and anything else you will need to have an entertaining encounter inside this world. The logbook has a map inside it of the terrain. It has character sheets on the non-player characters you will encounter in your journey. By now, you have noticed your attire. This is the dangerous and exciting world of 1920’s North America and it is filled with dastardly bootleggers, charming flapper girls, and manly heroic heroes. This is the world of pulp adventure and fedoras. Pistol shots from masked intruders. We have done everything possible to remove the negative aspects of this time period, so you will not encounter anti-Semitism or influenza. However, it has an impressive array of villains you must defeat to win the game.” I returned the book to its backpack and flipped open the watch again.

  “Nice work, Rhonda,” I told the face which continued to stare at me. “So everything I need is inside this logbook?”

  “Yes,” she responded. “All you need to know. The backpack will have new food supplies put into it when it is emptied out.”

  “If I recall right,” I mentioned. “All your games were based around 10-sided dice. How does that work in here? Won’t that slow the action down if I have to add up values and roll a dice whenever I encounter something?”

  “There’s a section in the back where you can tally up points for abilities, health and skill. You’ll need to add them up quick whenever you run into an opponent or challenge. It’s how to rate your possibility of success.”

  “Great,” I said as I thumbed through the book that they’d sent me. It was extensive.

  “Another question,” I continued, “how am I supposed to roll a dice? I don’t see any in the backpack. Did you forget to send them?”

  “No we didn’t. You don’t need a set of dice to go up against an opponent. The programs take into account all the points you and your opponent has, and then decides on the outcome. Why would you go up against someone if you already knew the outcome? In a sense, the programs roll the dice and decide if your action will be successful or not once you engage. But you never get to see the dice.”

  “Thanks. I just wondered how this all plays out. I see there are entries for guns and other weapons. How do I go about locating them?”

  “The same as you would in a tabletop miniature game. You find a plot cache located on the map and try to find out what it contains. You have to be careful because that’s random as well. Sometimes it’s things you need; sometimes it’s a saber tooth tiger. Activate a plot cache with a hungry bear; you better have a shotgun and the skill level to use one.”

  I checked my skill levels. They were all superb for a man of my age and build in this period. Apparently, you could acquire new ones at a plot cache or get them from an NPC. The entire scenario was an extension of the tabletop games the company made. I was familiar with them and liked the ones they put out every few months. I could see how their formats fit into the whole VR concept.

  “So what is the objective of the game?” I asked Rhonda. “You never gave me one.”

  “We didn’t?” she said with a surprised look on her face. “Great, another oversight on the part of our brain trust.” She glared back at the faces that looked over her shoulders.

  “I’ll find a way to get it into your logbook,” she continued. “You are supposed to find some jewels.”

  “The kind that sparkle?”

  “That’s the only kind I care about. The jewels are part of the lost Wellington family treasure and they are hidden around an abandoned asylum, which is on your side of the mountain. You are on Wolf Mountain, if you haven’t figured it out.”

  “This means I have to worry about the four-legged kind.”

  “You might. The wild wolf population was decimated in Pennsylvania by this time. Doesn’t mean there aren’t a few packs left no one knows about. Plenty of deer and other critters for them to eat. Check your logbook; it’s all in the profile.”

/>   “Well, at least I know I have you standing by to watch every move I make. What happens if I take a bullet hit? Does it hurt?”

  “Yes it does, but not as bad as real one,” she explained. “Don’t worry, you won’t bleed out. If the programs decide you’ve taken a mortal blow, you will exit the game. If that happens, we’ll decide whether or not to start it again. Play to win because we don’t want to start and restart this game scenario. We’ve tested it in house to the point we’re confident it will work. If you are successful in running the game, we might be able to use you to test out another scenario.”

  It was all the motivation I needed. Anything to avoid going back to a goddamn call center. Even if the pay was low for a game tester job, so long as it covered my student loans and allowed me a chance to advance, I would take it. The call center chewed people up and spit them out. I saw it happen every day. I’d worked for two and never wanted to go into another one.

  I looked up from the watch and saw smoke rise in the distance. This had to be a fire of some type, but it didn’t seem to be a big one. My guess was a campfire, as anyone doing illegal activities would try to hide the smoke. This smoke cloud was plain for all to see. The logbook mentioned something about gangsters when I thumbed through it. As long as I had Rhonda on the phone, I might as well ask her about them.

  “So what kind of opposition do I expect to find out here in the woods? Crazy hillbillies?”

  “You’ve been watching too many cheap horror movies,” she snapped. “The only kind of mountain people you’ll find here are the ones who want to be left alone. Hmmm. That is a good idea for a 1980’s horror game scenario. I’ll keep it in mind. The city kids eat that shit up.”

  “I’m guessing these are some non-player characters I need to go find,” I told her as I tried to determine where the smoke was located. It made sense in reference to the game.

  “Time for you to play,” she told me. “What fun will it be if I tell you everything in advance? Are you one of these people who want to know how the book ends before you read it?”

  “Alright, I’m headed in their direction. How often should I check in with you?”

  “You can do it in the morning. Just make sure none of the other characters notices what you’re doing. They don’t have total self-awareness; at least we haven’t reached that level yet. But they are designed to fit in with the game. If they see the watch in operation as a communicator, it could crash the entire system and we’d have to pull you out. Lots of math ok? Of course, call us immediately if something happens you are worried about.”

  “And my body in the VR chamber?” I asked her. “How do you see it get food and water?”

  “It’s in a stasis field. Nothing changes inside the field once it’s activated. That is another little trick we learned designing this chamber. Not sure if we’re ready to release it on the world. Your conscious stays outside the field, which is why you can play the game. So don’t worry about your physical body outside the game. Now go have fun.”

  “Have fun,” I told repeated and closed the cover on the watch.

  4

  It took me a solid hour to get through that damn forest.

  I’d spent some time in the woods before with my family on camping trips, but we stayed on the trails. This time there were no trails, at least none that I could find. I was forced to use the compass to keep myself from being lost in the woods. Every other minute I was certain a wolf was creeping up on me. Every time I heard a sound, I would glance over my shoulder and expect to see a whole pack of them ready for dinner. It was always a squirrel or rabbit; there were plenty of those in the forest.

  Every other plant had thorns that made me grateful for the leather boots. The stickers and branches that struck me hurt, dammit, and I was forced to watch out for fallen timber on the ground. Several times, I had to reroute my trip and walk around a fallen tree or piles of wood left over from frequent falls. The soil on the mountain was thin. You could see the roots sticking up in the air from trees that toppled over from the wind. At least the sky was clear. The crew gave me nice weather on my first run into the game.

  Finally, I located the source of the smoke. I could see a small campfire burning in the distance through the tree line. I crept up to it. I saw canvas tents arranged around the fire and several people talking over something as they drank from the old ceramic coffee cups. This had to be the NPC’s I was told about. I didn’t feel like unslinging my backpack, so I decided to walk into the camp and introduce myself. The worst thing that could happen was sudden death. The game would start over and I’d be forced to do the opening sequence again.

  I held my breath and walked into the clearing right in front of them. There was no way they could miss me. Time to get the game in motion.

  “Hello, “I said to them. “I am…” The words collapsed in my mouth. Who the hell was I supposed to be in this game? My physical form had changed.

  “…Vince,” I continued. “I’ve traveled quite a distance to reach this place. Who might you be?”

  “Howard,” the first man introduced himself and walked forward to shake my hand.

  “Lester,” the other one said as he joined the first.

  “Bonnie,” said the woman who sat on a log. She waved at me.

  “Are you trying to find the treasure too?” Bonnie called to me. “We’ve searched for it a long time. We could use all the help we can get.”

  I was relived. These were friendly NPC’s. I worried they were covers for some sinister gang or necromancer band. I needed to study the logbook better to find out who they were.

  “Yes I have,” I informed them. I tried not to sound like some stock character from a Monogram serial from the 1940’s, but it was the only reference I had in mind.

  “We’re searching for the airship,” Lester told me. “If we can find the remnants of the airship, the treasure won’t be far away.”

  “Airship?” I asked him. “What airship?” I’d managed to miss that part in the book too.

  “The one used by the Wellington family on their trip,” Howard explained. “You never heard of the airship? How can you be searching for the treasure and not know anything about it?”

  Already I was mentally kicking myself for not reading much in the logbook. I would have to rectify that the first chance I had.

  “I seemed to have heard a little bit about it,” I explained. “Sorry, I’m from Iowa and we don’t get a lot of news out there.” I waited to see if they believed me.

  They did. “It was in all the papers at the time,” Bonnie explained. “William Wellington and his family were supposed to make the first transcontinental flight from New York City to California. Right about the time the Wright Brothers were so popular. He touched down in the airship he designed in Altoona to a cheering crowd of five thousand. He left with his crew, wife, and baby daughter. No one ever heard from him or anyone on the airship Purple Moose again.”

  “There’s an old mental asylum around here,” Lester continued for her. “We’ve read up on the airship and its flight plans from several existing records. Took us years to dig up the information. We think it went down near the old asylum in a storm. If we can find what is left of the airship, we’ll find the jewels they had on board with them.”

  “Old man Wellington was so crazy about losing his money he took it with him everywhere he went,” Howard explained. “I’m sure you know that story.” He cocked his head and looked me in the eye.”

  “Yes,” I lied, “that one I do know. It’s why I’m here. He was so nuts he took all he had with him in a safe didn’t he?”

  Howard and Lester glanced at each other. “That’s not the story we heard,” Howard said to me. “I was told he had a man with a rifle who watched over his loot. Didn’t like safe’s either, claimed they could be opened by anyone who knew how to do it.”

  “Which was a little strange as he’d made his money building safes vaults for big companies,” Bonnie pointed out.

  Bonnie was in her
20’s and had on one of those “flapper” hats which were about to go out of style. The end of the jazz age would come in a few months as factories started to close in the wake of the stock market crash. She wore a pair of knicker pants over a pair of boots and combined it with a blue jacket. I reminded myself that in this time period women only wore pants for reasons of sports or work. Her hair was cut short and she had a boyish look and twinkle in her blue eyes.

  Howard was the oldest member of the group, from what I could tell. He had a brown and tanned face, which told me he’d spent plenty of time out in the sun. Like me, his pants were tucked into a pair of work boots and he wore a heavy denim jacket over a work shirt. One look at him and you could tell he’d been all over the world. Even the “newsboy” cap he wore didn’t make him any less of a gentleman. I pegged him as the leader of the group when I arrived.

  Lester was the youngest of the three. He appeared to be 19 and wore wool pants that flopped over heavy shoes. He seemed nervous and kept glancing behind me into the woods. Lester also wore a fedora that was much too big for him. The hat forced him to adjust it every few minutes, which added to his movement.

  The campsite had four tents pitched and was located in a circle around the fire. The tents were made of a type of canvas still popular for people who traveled and camped. Camping as an outdoor pursuit wouldn’t become popular for many years, but there were still plenty of fishermen and hunters who needed the gear. I glanced around and saw they’d dug a fire pit, which implied a shovel. Since there were no roads about, this meant they’d carried everything in on their backs. I was impressed with their efforts.

  Of course, they were simply programs. Non-character players or NPC’s to use the common term. They might have a level of self-awareness, but all of us were stuck inside this computer simulation. The only difference between them and me was that I had awareness of the game. I knew what was going on about us. They were built to assume we were in the real world and would respond accordingly if I asked them anything outside of their frame of reference. In fact, I was the only subject who had corporal reality. My body might exist outside the game I played, but at least I was more than a pile of electrons and programs. So long as my body was inside the stasis chamber, nothing would change. The moment they pulled the plug, this reality would all vanish.