by Michael Ryan
“Thank you, sir,” Dale said.
“Call me Vice-Dean, please.”
“Yes, Vice-Dean.” Dale felt warm. His anxiety caused him to slightly shake as he took a seat.
The meeting was the most important of his life. To get a scholarship from Prootingham Technical University would be a future-altering opportunity. It was the kind of thing that techie nerds dreamed of soon after learning to write their first code.
Dale had dreamt of this moment since he was six years old.
The vice-dean spent the next hour explaining the different programs that were available. After finishing, he frowned. “One problem remains.”
Dale’s heart raced and his anxiety amped up. Just when everything in his life seemed lined up perfectly, something unexpected had to crash down on him.
“Sir? I mean Vice-Dean?” he asked, his voice cracking.
“It’s the government. Your government. There are uncertainties that we need to address. You’re aware of your obligation to test for inclusion in the volunteer program and the joint armed forces?”
“The joint armed forces?” Dale asked. “I hadn’t…”
“Yes, it’s new. It’s one of the responses to this thing they’re calling the Nagant War.”
“What?” Dale asked, perplexed. “Um, sir, I mean Vice-Dean, you’re talking about the game, Nagant Wars? It’s a Rhith World, you know…an MMO?”
“Yes, of course. I suspect Rhith Corp…” He frowned and pointed towards the ceiling. “Even I have to take precautions. PTU is a subsidiary…the reason, of course, they’re calling this thing the…”
He seemed to lose his train of thought and fell into an awkward silence.
“Vice-Dean?” Dale asked after several moments passed.
The vice-dean remained quiet, his fingers slowly moving across the desk like marching insects.
Dale waited patiently. He stretched his legs and stared into the vice-dean’s blue eyes.
Bold finally spoke. “The potential hostilities, if that’s what they are…are being referred to as the Nagant War. Because of the game, obviously. I mean, it’s a play on words. Probably a corporate marketing ploy, if I were to guess. Students, the young, you’re all part of the machine.”
“Yes,” Dale said. “But I don’t want to go to war. And I definitely don’t want to be sent to Ecuador to plant bananas.”
“You may not have a choice.”
“I hate that.”
“As do all free-thinking people,” the vice-dean said. “However, if a war has started – and it seems it may have – skilled, brave young men such as yourself will be all that stand between us and annihilation.”
“You really think so?” Dale was confident all the rumors were just that.
The vice-dean lowered his eyes to Dale’s. “It’s possible. But I don’t know if that’s the case. Nobody knows. This isn’t public knowledge, son, so keep it to yourself and don’t add to the rumor mill. Nobody knows what’s real and what’s not when it comes to the Nagant War, at least not at my pay grade.”
Dale frowned.
“Some say it’s not really a threat, but a test,” the vice-dean said.
“A test?” Dale said.
“Some speculate it’s a test, and if we fail, we’ll all be slaves. Or perhaps become livestock for an alien race. Nobody knows what reality really is, do they? I mean, even all of this–” he pounded on the desk “–even all of this isn’t really here, is it?”
“Sir?”
“The desk. Corporeal reality, son,” he said. “It’s nearly all empty space and electrical impulses.”
Dale swallowed. “Sir? I’m afraid I don’t understand.” He couldn’t hold the cold stare of the vice-dean. Instead, he looked through the large windows. A flock of pigeons flew past, and he turned his gaze back to the man who held his future in his hand.
“It means, son, I’m offering you a scholarship,” the vice-dean finally answered. “It will include all your education and training. You won’t have to worry about living expenses, food, clothing, any of it. And it even comes with a small allowance.”
Dale’s face broke into the biggest smile of his life. “Thank you, sir. I mean Vice-Dean. It’s a…a…a dream come true.”
“Now, the details. In exchange for your education, you’ll be contractually obligated to work for the company for the decade after your graduation. But in all reality, because of nondisclosure agreements and the secrets you’ll learn, you’ll end up an employee for life. At least your working life.”
“I-I knew that,” Dale said confidently. It was standard procedure. “Where do I sign?”
Chapter Eight
Not every player in a Rhith World desires action and adventure; many enter virtual space for business, hobbies, or to run for mayor.
~ CEO Jon Theron
Princess Rohini recovered from her respawn with nothing more damaging than a lingering headache, a few scary premonitions about the future, and a new respect for dragonlings.
She rejoined her companions, and they once again left the capital city of Irkalla.
She recovered the Jewel of Sartozel and concealed the gemstone inside her mount again. It still seemed like a prudent hiding place.
While mobs were sometimes programmed to destroy anything living, a being with the explicit intent to capture the jewel would most certainly find more value in a live pony than a dead one. Even if the gentle creature were taken by an enemy, it was entirely possible the jewel would remain undetected.
She was careful to avoid dragonlings on their second pass through the forest. The entourage found its way to a fortified village along a river at the base of a mountain range. Rohini ordered one of her swordsmen to accompany Ruthann to the town’s main gate to ascertain its rules and customs.
According to lore, most Arodian Mountain villages were peaceful, populated with craftsmen and traders, but what percentage were NPCs and what real-world players was anybody’s guess. Rohini couldn’t afford to take risks, so unless Ruthann was confident of the town’s peacefulness, they’d bypass it.
When Ruthann returned, she was cheerful and upbeat. “My lady, they are peaceful. Traders. Gamblers. Nothing in the village caused me any unease or suspicion. It is called Evelake, and the mayor welcomed me personally. He gave me a short tour and implied I’d be a fool if I denied his company for the last meal of the day.”
“That settles it, then,” Rohini said.
Ruthann winked and said to the group, “As long as coins remain in our purses, the mayor said we are welcome. He bragged that the roasted razordillo here is the most excellent in all of the kingdom.”
“Every mayor says that,” a soldier said.
“Let’s find out for ourselves,” Rohini said, and motioned for the group to march forward.
They entered through the main gate and boarded their animals in the first inn they found. Rohini put Ruthann in charge of a rotating guard over the animals; they were too valuable to leave alone, even if the villagers seemed friendly.
“I’m sure the thieves guild has people everywhere,” Rohini warned the group. “Don’t be foolish.”
“Yes, Princess,” they answered.
“Men,” she continued, “enjoy yourselves tonight. Gamble, drink, and whore if you wish. But do not, under the penalty of the sword, divulge our mission to anyone. Even a sweet, pretty face.”
“Especially a pretty, sweet face,” Ruthann said.
“Ruthann, you have a job to do,” the princess ordered. “Find us a witch. I’d like to hire one for the remainder of our journey. We depart tomorrow one hour after the rooster crows.”
“Yes, my lady,” she said.
“Make sure she’s willing to swear a blood oath of loyalty. The pay and reward are at your discretion. Don’t hesitate to make it as high as required. I fear without a magic maker our mission will fail.”
“Yes, Princess.”
“And Ruthann? All work and no play makes you cranky. Find a hero to warm your bed t
onight.”
“The mayor is rather charming.”
“Well, there you go. Do a little spying if you can.”
“As always, my lady.”
Rohini walked confidently into The Stuck Pig Inn & Casino. She took a spot at the casino’s Dragonesallanti table. The card game, according to her character’s history, was one of many ancient pastimes she’d learned as a child.
Because Dragonesallanti involved deception, bartering, and risking large amounts of money, it was similar to diplomacy. Members of the court were often the best players, and an average politician was skilled at winning.
In the real world, Lia had downloaded the Dragonesallanti app and practiced for many hours.
“What are the stakes?” she asked.
“Minimum bet is a centrie per point, the maximum one bar.” The dealer shuffled the deck while maintaining eye contact with her. “Would you like chips?”
“Ten bars, please,” Rohini answered.
System message: Exchange Gold for Gaming Chips.
Location: The Stuck Pig Inn & Casino
Exchange: 10 gold bars for 1000 centrie chips.
Automatically convert chips to gold upon exiting casino: [Y/N]
Rohini placed a bet.
Gambling Skill Increased: Newbie Level Achieved.
As you grow in this skill, you will retain the ability to remember what cards have been played. You’ll see the other players’ strengths and weaknesses. You’ll also gain the ability to swiftly and accurately calculate the odds.
Hint: Gain an advantage over your opponents by appearing dumb, smiling, and exposing any cleavage you possess.
She played conservatively for an hour, listening to conversations, observing the interactions between players who seemed to be regulars, and mentally putting each gambler into one of two categories: NPC; or a real person, a player character, a PC. As time wore on, she realized she’d need better development in this skill. Whether gambling or sword fighting, sentience made a difference in the actions of your opponents. The contrast between logical versus emotional decision making could make the difference in a PVP battle as well.
Opponent Classification Skill Increased: Clueless Level Achieved.
As you grow in this skill, you will be able to ascertain sooner, and with more accuracy, the true nature of your opponents, as well as your friends.
One of the gamblers was a hunter, and in a tale about a hunting trip for bears, he mentioned having an eerie chill run up his spine when he came across a mine shaft.
“It wasn’t just a cave?” Rohini asked.
Rohini was interested in the old dwarf tunnels, but she wanted to avoid asking directly about them. If someone, or something, were following them, they’d ask questions about what she’d been seeking. Perhaps an NPC couldn’t be tortured or bribed, but if a PC were interrogated with the right incentive, either pain or gold, they’d talk.
“I thought those old mine shafts were legends,” she said.
She pretended to be casual as if she were merely making conversation. She tried to flirt as well, but whether such a tactic would work on the hunter, she didn’t know.
“Oh, no. I saw it myself,” the hunter stated firmly.
“Maybe it was just a cave?”
“I know a cave when I see a cave, miss,” he insisted.
“The stories about dwarfs, old mines, and diamonds are legends. Exaggerations. I knew a man who–”
“Are you saying I’m stupid or blind?” he questioned. He sounded aggravated, which was the reaction Rohini was hoping to elicit. Angry people were more likely to talk, although she still suspected the hunter was probably not a sentient being.
John: Doesn’t matter. NPCs can be programed to become angry and irrational.
Rohini: Even you, John?
I don’t possess a body, so my–
Later, okay, I need to concentrate.
“Perhaps your eyesight is getting weak, hunter. You just missed a black dragon,” Rohini said.
The hunter glanced at the table, grumbled under his breath, and threw his cards away. He placed another bet and glared at Rohini. His posture stiffened. “You’re new here, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” she admitted. “But I’m not unfamiliar with the legends about dwarf mines. I never believed in them myself. I think they’re just stories told by old women and nannies. Dwarfs, diamonds, emeralds, gold. A lot of silly bedtime stories for children.”
“No, miss. Those stories are real,” a gray-haired man said from the other end of the table. He’d been silently playing his cards, minding his own business, but apparently he’d been following the conversation. “The stories aren’t myths, although many legends grew from the tales. I knew them to be true myself when I was just a child.”
“Really? You saw the mines when you were young?” Rohini asked, smiling at the old man.
“Yes, miss,” he answered. “I was almost captured by the dwarfs when I was twelve. Back in those days, if you entered the mines, you were fair game. We had a treaty with the dwarf king back then. If they entered the forest, we could shoot them. If we entered the mines, they could enslave us.”
He laughed before continuing his storytelling between bets.
“Those treaties were stories invented to keep the dwarf children and the village children from wandering off and getting eaten by dragonlings or bears. No dwarf was ever shot – at least, not for simply being in the woods. Nor were any of us enslaved and made to work in the diamond mines. But the mines were real; I was inside one once.”
He brought a long pipe to his mouth and lit a match. When he exhaled, the smoke formed an apple, which hovered towards Rohini. Next, he blew a smoke arrow, and it flew into the apple. The smoky apparition fell to the table in front of her and dissipated into a gray mist.
“Enough,” the dealer said. “She’s at least sixty years younger than you, Max. Besides, she’s way too classy to give you a second glance.”
The man grunted. He blew a smoke cloud that transformed into the face of the dealer and followed it by creating a war hammer, which smashed the smoke into a puff of sparkling dust.
“Well, I told you so,” the hunter said, returning to the conversation. “The mines and tunnels are real. I knew it was an old dwarf mine the moment I saw it. I didn’t see any dwarfs, that’s true enough. But I had sense enough to stay clear of the mine, just in case.”
Rohini thought for a moment.
If one thing was certain about Almaach, everyone loved to gamble. “I bet you saw a cave,” she said.
“How much you willing to bet, miss?” the hunter asked.
“Oh, I’d wager three or four bars of gold – that is, if you aren’t scared to go back there and prove it.” Rohini gave him a wicked smile.
“I ain’t scared,” he said. “How about five bars?”
“Five bars it is,” she agreed. “With the following condition: you have to guide my party to the mine by sunset tomorrow. If you do, you win five bars. If not, I win five bars. And if you lead us to a cave, you forfeit an extra bar for stupidity.”
His eyes narrowed. “How about if I lead you there with enough sunlight remaining in the day to make camp, roast hare, and boil potatoes, you owe me an extra bar for your arrogance?” The hunter had a wicked smile of his own.
“Deal,” Rohini said, and extended her hand.
They shook, and the notification of the wager appeared in a pop-up.
The next morning the troop left the village with two new members: the huntsman and a witch who Ruthann had hired to accompany them. The witch had been searching for a quest, and she’d convinced Ruthann that she knew enough about magic, the local mountains, and the dwarf legends so that she’d be a worthwhile addition.
Good to his word, the huntsman guided the troop through the forest along a series of crisscrossing trails, switchbacks, and rope bridges over deep gorges. They entered a narrow valley before dark, and at the valley’s end, there was an entrance to a dwarf mine.
“I’ll be the stubborn fool,” the princess said.
Wager lost.
You owe Sam Treyolum six gold bars.
Settle wager: [Y/N]
The princess settled her bet.
Rohini: John, can you insert an auto command to settle any lost wager?
John: Done.
Rohini: I can’t imagine what would happen if someone reneged on a bet.
On this planet, Rohini, you don’t want to find out.
“Thank you for your business,” Sam said. “I wouldn’t stay camped here for long. Your cooking smells will waft into the mines, and you’ll have a unit of war dwarfs out here looking for slaves.”
He laughed, slapped his pony on its rear, and galloped off.
“Set up a watch,” Rohini ordered.
She approached the witch and spoke in a low voice. “Tell me what you think.”
“There are no dwarfs close by, my lady. I would smell them. My charms tell me that you are on a worthy quest. My spirits tell me that a great war is brewing, and I suspect your mission is part of the coming battle. For the people of Evelake, I will serve you above and beyond my agreed upon pay. I, too, wish for peace.”
“What else do you know about the war?” Rohini asked.
“Only that the Nagant Monks belong to a great house of Lords and Gods. They are ancient masters of all the magical arts. They come from another world, but they are fair judges. I’m told, my lady, that they don’t interfere in the minor interactions of lesser creatures, as the arrogant and controlling gods do.”
“I see,” Rohini said.
She’d considered the possibility that the witch was a spy.
It was hard to know who was who this early in the war.
Besides loyalty issues, there was the possibility that the witch wasn’t an NPC. She could be a rogue player who enjoyed causing havoc with false information and betrayal. There was even the possibility that she was a rogue NPC. Coupled with the potential that she could also be a sentient spy who was with the enemy faction, Rohini knew she had to be extra careful about what she revealed.
John: It wouldn’t be as fun if there wasn’t the possibility of treachery and deceit.
