by Paul Bellow
The gamemaster smiled again, stroking his white beard.
“Good,” he said. “Very good. Now hand it over.”
I hesitated, unsure if I was making the right choice. My father had said to trust Captain Skids and his advice. Not having specific instructions from him, I went with my gut.
The gamemaster reached out, palm up.
“Give me a minute,” I said, stalling as I fumbled with the bracelet.
I didn’t see a way to take it off. The narrow band wouldn’t fit over my hand, and it had no clasps.
“What’s wrong?” the gamemaster asked. “Hurry it up.”
“I need a guarantee,” I said, stalling for time.
“Do you want to design your new class now?”
“Yeah, if you don’t mind.”
He sighed then said, “Very well.”
The floor in front of me trembled. Some of it raised. I saw a terminal embedded in the rock. Another terminal. There’s more than one, and that means… I grinned as the realization hit me. Hacking the game would need to be done from the inside. Captain Skids had likely wanted me to have access to the terminal. But for what?
“You’ll see your options on the screen,” he said. “After you choose the basics, the game will customize the character class and introduce it into the game.”
“I still don’t know if you’ll let me become the character I create.”
“Come on, Eric. It doesn’t need to be this difficult.”
I glanced at the monochrome screen and saw a flashing cursor.
“What do I do?” I asked, unfamiliar with the interface.
“You don’t know how to type?”
“I do, but…”
“Let me show you,” he said as he walked around.
I stepped back as he looked at the screen.
“We’re not signed in yet,” he said, his fingers flying over the keyboard.
I glanced over his shoulder, only catching a few of his keystrokes.
“There…” He stepped back. “Go at it. You think you’re special, but you’re not.”
“I’m just trying to get out of this game.”
“And my job is to keep you in here,” he said cryptically.
The bracelet on my wrist vibrated as if it was controlling my motions. My hand typed a cryptic command then hit the enter key.
“What are you doing?” the gamemaster gasped.
“I didn’t do anything,” I said, holding up my hands.
He shook his head, pushing me away from the terminal.
“I saw what you did,” he said. “What did you type in?”
We stared at each other a long, tense moment.
“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “My hand had a mind of its own.”
“You’re up to something,” he said. “I’m going to get to the bottom of it. Don’t think I won’t.”
“Please tell me when you find out,” I said.
“That’s it. You’re back to the game...without your new class. Maybe some time as an NPC on level one-one will make you try harder.”
“But there’s very few other players on the first level,” I said.
He walked closer, stopped then tilted his head back.
“Who’s the gamemaster?” he asked. “Me or you?”
“You are…” I muttered.
“And yet you’re still wearing the bracelet and won’t tell me what it does.”
“I don’t know,” I said. “How many times do I have to repeat myself?”
“None if you’d tell me the truth,” he said. “Now give me that bracelet.”
He reached for it. When his hands touched the metal surface, he screamed.
“It shocked me,” he said in surprise. “What is that thing? I’m immune to damage.”
With no facial features, he couldn’t see my elation.
Captain Skids was up to something, and I was a part of it.
The gamemaster’s face changed, becoming angrier.
“Back to the game with you!”
He pointed at the glowing portal for level one-one.
I sighed then walked through.
Chapter 27
An NPC Life for Me?
Eric
On the other side of the portal, I appeared in a rundown room. The sound of a crowd passing by came through the only window. I walked over and peered out, seeing throngs of people moving up and down a cobblestone street. Where am I now?
When I tried to pull up the game interface, a message appeared telling me I was an NPC and unable to access anything until I found at least one player character to group with me. I sent the message packing then walked across the room to a wooden door.
After listening a moment, I turned the handle and opened it. The hallway outside stretched to the left and right. I peered out and saw several other doors. An inn, maybe? I glanced down and saw myself wearing simple woolen clothes.
Even as an NPC, I’d need a weapon, I reasoned as I walked into the hallway and shut the door behind me. A sound to the left convinced me to go in the other direction. I almost made it to a set of stairs when I heard a deep voice yell, “Stop! Now!”
As I slowly turned around, I saw a burly man wearing leather lumbering down the hallway toward me. I glanced over my shoulder, wondering if I should make a run for it. Until I found out more, I decided to not rock the boat.
“Where’ve you been?” the man asked as he stopped in front of me.
He crossed his thick, muscled arms over his chest. I could tell he’d been through more than a few fights in his life.
“Sleeping,” I said. “Just woke up.”
“You can’t be sneaking off on your own,” he snarled. “Get downstairs with the others.”
What kind of hotel is this? I wondered as I turned and walked for the steps. He followed a few steps behind as I descended to the first floor. At the bottom of the stairs, I saw a wide room full of other people in the dingy white one-piece outfit I had on myself.
“Everyone listen up,” the man in leather armor said.
I slinked over to a corner, trying to blend in with the other men.
“You’ve come a long way,” the man continued. “I’m proud of all of you. The Two Kings of the southern lands will be pleased with your progress.”
I glanced around the room, not seeing any females. The man kept speaking.
“Your sacrifices will be remembered for all time…”
I turned my attention back to the tall man. Say what?
“For the empire!” a man shouted near the back.
Everyone except me kept yelling the phrase. I didn’t remember any Two Kings on the first level. Maybe I’d spawned somewhere else? The fervor died down immediately after the armored man went back upstairs. I searched for a door.
“Don’t bother,” a ginger-haired man with freckles said next to me. “There’s no way out. We volunteered for this, remember?”
“I didn’t agree to anything,” I said.
“You’re wearing the bracelet like the rest of us, Edmund.”
That’s my name? I sighed as I thought about how to get out of my current predicament. With very little information, I needed to be careful. I wondered if the game would tell me if I ran across another player character. Even if it did, would they know to ask me to group with them? The questions piled up in my mind as I bided my time.
A few minutes later, my stomach growling, the man in leather returned. He walked over to a door and opened it before stepping aside.
“Let’s go,” he said.
I noticed two weapons, one on each side of him. The other men in long dressing gowns filtered through the door one after another. I joined the crowd, giving the man in charge a lingering look as I passed. No way I could take him in a fight.
The other men walked down the middle of a cobblestone street. Some of the buildings looked familiar. The smell triggered a memory in my mind—Fishguard. Who’s the kings of the city? I wondered, as I walked in midst of the other couple dozen men.
We stopped in front of a gate at the end of a street. Over the wall, I saw a fortified castle. My heart beat faster as I forgot about Josh, Sarah, and the others. The game sucked me in as I gradually learned more about my predicament.
Maybe the kings would be players? I smiled as the thought fluttered through my mind. Despite all the bad stuff happening inside the Tower of Gates, I had hope of getting out alive. The gate swung outward, allowing us entry.
“Hurry it up,” the man in leather armor shouted somewhere behind us.
I fell into a pace along with all the others. We stopped on the other side of the inner courtyard. Two figures stood on a second-floor patio of an ornate stone building with fancy columns and a lot of colored marble. I held my hand above my eyes to see.
The brownies?
I pushed through toward the front of the crowd, raising my right arm in the air to get their attention. They both looked down in my direction, their ever-present smiles as freaky as ever. I felt angry as I remembered how they’d killed Sarah.
No matter how hard I tried, their names wouldn’t come out of my mouth. Evan, the skinnier one, pointed at me and said, “Gord-En, get him.”
I turned to the strange man in the leather armor. Had he respawned too? Gord-En gripped my arm and led me to the back of the crowd.
“Are you going to behave?” he asked, squeezing my arm.
“Yes,” I said. “Will you tell me what’s going on? Can I join you on an adventure?”
I hated not being able to speak OOC while stuck as an NPC.
Gord-En grinned and shook his head.
“You need to help the brownies’ army,” he said in a more serious tone.
The smile faded from his face. I took a deep breath, hating not being able to talk out of character. Being trapped as an NPC was even worse than Bernard had described.
“I’ve got to go, but good luck,” Gord-En said.
“Back in line,” Evan shouted while still smiling.
Would the others come back to the first level to find me? Or am I on my own? I sighed then retreated back to the line of other recruits, already thinking about how to become a player and get away from the brownies.
They both ranted about an upcoming mother of all battles in the game. I wasn’t sure what they had in mind exactly, but I could tell it wasn’t good. Until I could become a PC again, I needed to play along and avoid dying.
Stupid brownies.
Epilogue
Magi Inyontoo
I spawned in a grassy field somewhere east of Fishguard. While I’d never died in the game before, I’d taken great pains to ensure I wasn’t trapped as an NPC if it ever happened. The smell of fish filled my nostrils as I walked further away from the city.
Gord-En and some of the other older players would never let me live down my stupid and disgraceful death at the hands of the noobs. Their months in the game were absolutely nothing compared to the decades I’d been inside the Tower of Gates.
As I walked toward the rising sun, I pondered reality. What would happen if I spent too much time in the virtual world? Once I’d spent more time in the game than in the real world, would I change in a significant way? The question concerned me.
My other memories seemed distant because I’d been inside the virtual prison so long. I hated the place even more with each passing day. Turning south, the grass gave way to sand dunes. I walked up then down a few before coming to a cave in a cliff.
“They better be here,” I muttered to myself as I entered.
At the back of the cave, I pressed a stone which opened a door. Two men in black plate mail turned, both of them looking surprised to see me.
“Magi Inyontoo?” the taller, lanky guy on the left asked.
“Is it really you?” the other added.
“Yes, it’s me,” I said. “Can I adventure with you?”
Both men nodded enthusiastically as they invited me into their group.
Congratulations!
You’re a player character again.
You’ve been randomly assigned a class due to alignment at your death.
You are a level 1 fighter.
Ugh. I sighed.
“How did you die?” the shorter man asked.
“The new players,” I said, knowing the information would get out eventually. “This is all part of my master plan.”
“Brilliant,” the tall man said, his long, black beard bobbing as he nodded his head.
“Please tell me you have all my supplies ready,” I said.
Both men nodded, the shorter saying, “It’s all here, boss. We’re getting closer to getting out of the game, right? Do we still get preferential treatment for staying locked in here waiting for you?”
“Of course,” I said, walking into the secret room.
Lying had become a second nature to me.
“Any big news on this level?” I asked.
The men looked at each other, both frowning.
“What is it?” I asked.
“The brownies,” the taller man said.
“What about them?” I walked past the two minor cultists. “Are they causing trouble?”
“You could say that,” the shorter man said.
I turned around to face them.
“Spit it out,” I said. “We don’t have a lot of time.”
“They’ve taken over,” the lanky man said.
I tilted my head to the left.
“What do you mean by taken over?”
“They’re smarter and more militaristic now,” the taller man said.
I sighed, wishing they had better information.
“You two stay here just in case I die again…”
“Is that part of your master plan?” the short cultist asked.
“Sure,” I said. “You two have enough supplies for the rest of time.”
“But it’s lonely in here…” the taller man said then cut himself off.
“You two want out of the game, right?” I asked.
They nodded then bowed their heads.
“Great,” I said. “Then do your parts without complaining. Go get some fresh air while I’m equipping myself.”
The two low-level cultists walked out of the room and into the cave. I headed deeper into the shelter I’d designed many years previously. After unlocking a magic sigil, I walked into the treasure room I’d stocked with items to help me if I ever had to start over.
So many years in the game had taught me all the tricks. It wouldn’t take me long at all to level up and resume my plans to escape the Tower of Gates. My latest scheme involved getting past the barrier the other players had set up on level one-four of the game.
I wasn’t entirely sure how I’d get past, but I had a few ideas germinating in my mind. The magic items I’d stocked up would guarantee I quickly leveled my new character. As a fighter, I’d be able to level fast before switching classes and regaining my mage powers.
Starting over was humiliating, but I’d known it would happen eventually and had prepared. The foresight would help me in numerous ways. And, on the bright side, I could hide in plain sight with my new fighter character. First off? The brownie situation.
Tower of Gates LitRPG Saga
Book 1 - HACK
Book 2 - HATE
Book 3 - HERO
Book 4 - BRUTE
Book 5 - BOOST
Book 6 - BLITZ
Book 7 - LUCK
Book 8 - LOCK
Book 9 - LOST
Book 10 - ENIGMA
Book 11 - ECHOES
Book 12 - ESCAPE
Tower of Gates Standalones
Roguelike
NPC
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