Depths of Camlan

by A. T. Gilbert

  Depths of Camlan

  A LitRPG Advnture

  A.T. Gilbert

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Untitled

  Untitled

  Chapter One

  I’m antsy. I’m not even a runner, but at the moment I feel like I have enough pent up energy to complete a marathon in record time. I’ve been awake for a couple hours already but still have to wait. The downtime gives my imagination far too much space to run wild.

  I wander the stark white halls of Toterra Online’s Arizona headquarters. I’ve been here for a few days already, but between being plugged in to the game and being babysat by my official handler Theresa, I haven’t really had a chance to get a good look around. Most of the doors and mazes of hallways are off limits—that doesn’t stop me from trying to open each door as I come to it. They can’t hide the signage and maps of the compound that are posted at intervals.

  This place is enormous. Enormous and secure. Eye-in-the-sky-type surveillance cameras line the ceiling every twenty feet or so. Mirrors poke around every corner. I would be surprised if there was a single blind spot in this entire place.

  Seems a bit excessive for a video game company, but I assume whatever technology they’ve developed has been at great expense and represents enormous earning potential. I suppose it makes sense to go a bit overboard in its protection. Someone somewhere can probably figure out how to use this tech to fight a war.

  Or maybe the CEO, Jeffrey Talbot, is just a bit paranoid.

  It only takes about fifteen minutes before I have explored every place I can access. They have all of us players isolated in this wing. I imagine the developers who build the secure firewalls for the game servers think these locked doors are just quaint.

  I return to the common room; it’s in the same hallway as our sleeping rooms. An old TV mounted on the far wall is already on and droning, even though I’m the first one in there. I would have thought Toterra could spring for some fancier entertainment, but how often do they really have guests here? I grab a can of Sprite from the fridge and sink down into the couch to watch. To distract myself.

  It’s one of those daily talk shows that is still on the air after something like forty years. I wonder if Kelly will ever actually retire. I wonder how I even know her name.

  The Toterra Online logo appears on the screen and I turn up the volume.

  “Today we have joining us YouTube sensation and victor of the just-completed Camlan Online Challenge—Jason Bannon!”

  The live in-studio audience is on their feet, cheering and clapping as Jason saunters in. I wonder if any of these middle-aged ladies actually have any idea who he is. But then I realize he is so handsome it probably doesn’t matter.

  Jason greets his hosts—handshakes, hugs, cheek kisses all around—and settles into his armchair opposite them. He smiles at the audience, waving with that practiced humility that makes me cringe.

  I miss the beginning of the televised conversation as two of the other players walk in the room.

  Even though it annoys me that this new Camlan Realm online game doesn’t allow players to alter their physical look too drastically, at the moment I’m grateful because it allows me to recognize Balderdash13 and SteelFeather. Although… Do I call them that? I don’t have the slightest idea what their real names are.

  “SirAsh3r!” the guy greets me. He’s a bit shorter and has slightly darker skin than his avatar SteelFeather, but sports the same shaved head. He’s maybe in his early thirties and I wonder what day job or family life he is abandoning to be a full-time gamer for this week. “What’s up?”

  I stand to greet them. Shaking hands. Murmuring hellos.

  The girl, Balderdash13, is younger than I expected, but her brown eyes, long black hair, honey brown skin and wide, welcoming smile are all familiar. I’m glad she’s staying. She was unnecessarily kind to me during the Challenge.

  “I’m Daniela,” she says with an understanding smile. “This is Aaron. And should we assume your real name is Asher?”

  I chuckle. “Yeah. Sorry. Not too creative. Also, I’ll probably forget your real names and keep calling you by your handles. Sorry in advance.”

  “It’s cool,” Aaron says. “I’ll probably do the same.”

  “Is that Jargonaut?” Daniela asks, her eyes on the television behind me.

  “Yep. Making the rounds. Greeting his fans.”

  “Charming old ladies,” SteelFeather jokes.

  “Yep.”

  “You know Talbot and the marketing team are just over the moon that pretty boy won, right? I mean you two are good-looking and all, but Jason has that thing.”

  “Yeah, I know what you mean,” Balderdash13 says nodding. “That charming celebrity thing? I don’t know if I could talk enough in these interviews. I don’t mind that I didn’t win.”

  “Well, I still think I should have won,” I say, trying to make it sound light-hearted. “But this consolation prize isn’t bad. I’d rather stay longer and play than fly all over the world doing interviews.”

  “Yeah, me too.” SteelFeather nods.

  Balderdash13 looks thoughtful. “Do you think if we’re able to recover whatever they want us to get that we’ll have to do all that publicity stuff?”

  “Nah.” SteelFeather waves off the fear. “Toterra won’t want it to be public that they had to have players go in and fix their mistakes.”

  In the same moment that I realize he’s right, I also realize I had been looking forward to the public recognition. Damn straight I know this game better than even the developers. Of course they needed me to clean up their mess. But, I’ll be using my expertise to fix their problems and no one will ever know.

  More players start filing in to the common room at that moment, followed closely by Toterra Online staff. I recognize three of the handlers from a couple days ago, along with the head developer, Sung Cho, that met with me yesterday right after the Challenge ended. Two others hover around her where she stands against the counter in the corner.

  Small, murmuring conversations pepper the room. We must still be waiting for Talbot. I reclaim my seat on the couch next to Balderdash13 and sip my soda.

  Sitting on the mustard-yellow couch, my back is to the door when I hear a familiar v
oice. Like with physical looks, the sound of the players’ voice is not exactly the same in real life as it is in the game, but I recognize it nonetheless.

  Erinocalypse has also stayed to assist Toterra Online. I haven’t spoken to her since the Challenge ended. Hell, I haven’t spoken to her since she blocked my private messages before I stole the Goblet of Vigor for the final quest. I don’t know exactly how she feels about it or how much she blames me … but I can imagine.

  Erin crosses to the front of the room casually, as if she isn’t doing this specifically on purpose, and then stands partway in front of me, blocking my view of the television but also ignoring me completely. She chats away animatedly with SteelFeather and Balderdash13 next to me, but doesn’t glance in my direction.

  So, I guess she’s still mad.

  Chapter Two

  I’m saved from having to deal with Erin’s anger because the room grows silent around me. I hear clipped footsteps enter the room. Balderdash13 scoots closer to me to make room for Erin on the couch.

  Talbot turns off the television as he passes it and turns to greet those of us who have gathered.

  “Welcome. Thank you. I appreciate those of you on the Toterra team”—he indicates most of the staff perched around the perimeter of the room—“for postponing your other projects, and you players for putting your personal lives on hold to stay and offer your assistance. As you all know, the game’s AI demonstrated some irregularities during the Challenge, and we’d like to get those wrinkles ironed out before we open the game to the public.”

  I frown, and wonder if there is a camera in here or a reporter or something. This sounds like corporate press conference speak. Not the bordering-on-desperate he and Cho seemed yesterday morning.

  Talbot continues. “As you all understand the game best, we have asked you to stay on to play a bit longer and suss out where precisely this code has gone astray. You will be looking for glitches or errors as you play. In fact, we will keep you in contact with Ms. Cho who will be on hand to direct you, take your feedback and answer any questions as you progress.”

  “Hey now, we don’t want any cheats.” An overweight white guy, maybe forty-five or so with a thick Texas accent leans against the other arm of the couch opposite where I sit. I don’t like him speaking for the rest of us, but he’s right. Why play the game if you’ve got the head developer whispering in your ear?

  “Of course not,” Talbot agrees. “She will merely be available to you in the event of any irregularity. Think of her as your personal, in-game ticket handler.”

  The Texan makes an unsatisfied grunt, but doesn’t object further.

  “In fact, that seems like an excellent transition to turn this over to Ms. Cho.”

  He’s charming and genial, and I kind of wish he continued the instruction because Cho intimidates me. The petite woman crosses to the front of the room, her expression blank. She seems to be going into battle, rallying her troops and mentally preparing herself for the possibility of death.

  “Right,” she begins without preamble. “Now that the Challenge is over, there are a few changes you need to be aware of. First, if you die in the game you will not lose all your gear and levels. You will respawn in your last save spot, thirty minutes later, but you will retain everything. This is how the game will function for the public too. Second, while Toterra Online will not be live-streaming your game footage for the public, you should assume that we here at headquarters are watching it carefully. We want to see exactly how the game presents itself to you, what … irregularities surface, how you solve problems, etc.”

  Two seats over from me, Erinocalypse raises her hand.

  “Will we have a chance to level-up skills and things before we start?”

  “Yes.”

  There is a moment of silence before Talbot says, gently, “Why don’t you elaborate a little, Ms. Cho?”

  She looks at him, again without expression, and then back at Erin.

  “We have generated a few NPCs in Allynton, which will be your spawn point. Within the town you should be able to find trainers for any of the skills you wish to pursue.”

  I have a million questions, but she seems disinclined to answer any so I keep them to myself. I can figure it out once I get in game. I don’t need hr instructions. She nods to one of the developers waiting in the corner, and he turns on the television again and connects the display to a map of Camlan, while she continues.

  “We’ve narrowed down the location of the corrupted code to White Rock Ravine, a dungeon on the coast not far from Allynton. That content is on a mostly isolated server and we believe the corrupted code has barricaded itself within that environment and set up defenses against us.”

  On the map, her helper zooms in to the town. I recognize the layout and streets and realize I probably picked up more about the game over the last couple days of playing than I realized. He zooms our just a bit to include the river and forests surrounding, then pans west past a castle and a web of roads to the coast.

  White Rock Ravine is clearly labeled with a bright blue geotag marking what is, I presume, the entrance.

  “Of course,” Cho says, looking at the map with us, “if you were regular players in the game as we originally planned, there would be a small quest chain to give you the location as well as the key to unlock the dungeon. But we don’t have time for that. Instead, find the NPC Mayor Barnaby in Allynton and he will provide you with the key and mark the location on your maps.”

  Callidus raises his hand. “Um, we didn’t get maps.”

  Cho finally breaks her impassive demeanor and rolls her eyes. “Some of your fellow competitors managed to acquire maps. What we will also do, then, is add fifty gold to each of your inventories. That should be enough to purchase the training and supplies you need, without being too much of a cheat.” She looks pointedly at the Texan.

  “That sounds like the perfect compromise,” Talbot interjects with his can’t-we-all-just-get-along smile. “Any objections?”

  I look at the other players crowded on the couch with me. They all look somewhat confused but not complaining. Seems like no one’s willing to get snapped at by Cho for asking a question. She continues with her presentation as though the interruption never took place.

  “You will have eighteen hours to complete the dungeon and uncover the corrupted code. It should not take that long, but we cannot make exceptions. For your health and safety, you will be logged out of the full immersion at seventeen hours and fifty-nine minutes.” She pauses and looks at each of us in turn. “Any more questions?”

  The older Texas guy blurts out, “Yeah, uh, what do we get if we are successful?”

  Cho and Talbot exchange a look. “I believe the financial compensation was discussed yesterday. Each of you should have signed a freelance employment contract with Toterra Online discussing renumeration.”

  He shakes his head. “Huh-uh. I mean in the game. Loot. How many levels should we expect, is this actually going to help my character or am I just wasting my time?”

  For the first time, I swear I see Cho crack a smile. “Wouldn’t me telling you be considered a cheat, Mr. Tanner?”

  He looks annoyed, like he’s about to get defensive, before she continues.

  “I can, however tell you this. The six of you are all between levels sixteen and nineteen. This dungeon as originally designed was meant for players level twenty-two and up. Needless to say you should find it a significant challenge.” She pauses, thoughtful. “And that’s assuming the corrupted code hasn’t altered it further.”

  I know I should be concerned at this thought—we are being sent into a dungeon we almost certainly are not equipped to handle. But I’m not. I’m thrilled. I can’t even keep the grin from my face, and Erin throws me a disgusted look. Especially with the new change to respawn rules, I am actively looking forward to this challenge. Getting through White Rock Ravine dungeon should prove I’m a better gamer than Jargonaut. Even if I don’t get on the Today Show.

&nb
sp; “Any other questions?” Cho asks, surveying the room.

  I don’t want to ask any. I just want to get in the game and start playing.

  Chapter Three

  “Wonderful.” Talbot takes charge of the room again after giving us a moment. “You all have just over an hour before we will be ready for you to log in. Remember not to eat anything, but otherwise enjoy the last of your time on this side.”

  He flashes his ultra-white, ultra-straight smile at us and leads the way out of the room. Cho is slightly behind him, but doesn’t bother to glance our way.

  “Asher,” Theresa says to me on her way out. “I’ll just be out here if you need anything. I’ll come find you when it’s time.”

  I nod and watch her leave, realizing all of the Toterra team has gone to continue their work day, leaving the six players to kill time and, I suppose, get to know each other. I’m already familiar with Erinocalypse, SteelFeather and Balderdash13 from playing with them a bit in the Challenge. The other players rounding out our posse are the same tall, gangly black teenage boy I met in the airport when we all arrived and the older, outspoken Texan, who has already stood up to start introducing himself.

  “Bryce. Bryce Tanner, how ya doin’?” he says, shaking the teenager’s hand. “Bryce Tanner,” he repeats as though SteelFeather, sitting right next to him hadn’t heard. He continues down the line until he gets to me.