“Very scientific of you, Dan,” Wayne said.
“You know how it goes, ‘When you have no idea where you want to go, let luck lead your way.’ Or something like that.”
“Should have let Alex do the twirling, then.”
“Damn! I didn’t even think of that!”
With our direction laid out, we headed away from the Keep and got ready for a long, drawn out session of grinding for experience and, hopefully, cash.
*
Washington D.C.
The General entered a spacious office, and was led by an administrative assistant to a large wooden desk adorned with framed photos of family and notable people of power in Washington.
The woman behind the desk, rising to welcome the General, was Melanie Grissten, Director of the Federal Bureau of Investigations. Grissten had held the position for the last three years, and was well respected by law enforcement and within the Beltway.
On top of that, Director Grissten was no pushover, having defended her people and organization numerous times on The Hill and in the White House. This was one meeting the General had definitely not been looking forward to having, even if his earlier meeting at the White House with the President’s National Security Advisor had led him to believe it was unavoidable.
“Good morning, General. Please have a seat. Would you like anything? Coffee? Water?”
“Coffee would be great.” The General watched as Grissten nodded toward her assistant and then sat behind her desk.
He took a moment to soak in the various awards that rested on the walls, and the pictures of Director Grissten’s children on the desk. The General noted there were more pictures of her family than awards on the walls, a trait he found admirable.
“How is the family, Director? The kids look to be getting big,” the General said, nodding toward a photo with Grissten and her three children.
“A handful.” Grissten’s exasperated sigh did little to conceal her obvious pride in and devotion to her family. “Both of the boys are playing sports, and Emily is competing for a programming scholarship for college next fall. If ever there were a separation between brains and brawn, it would be those three.”
The assistant returned at that moment with the General’s coffee and left after verifying that Director Grissten wanted her calls held until after the meeting had ended.
With the door closed, Grissten brought out a manila folder and set it on her desk.
“A little outside your lane on this one, don’t you think, General?”
The General couldn’t help the smile that formed on his face. One of the reasons he admired and respected Melanie Grissten was her no frills approach to getting the job done.
“You didn’t even let me get through my coffee this time.”
The Director smiled in kind, as she knew what the General meant. “This is serious business. We can chat over coffee after, that is, if we are still talking.”
The General put his game face back on before answering. “My oath is clear, Director. I am to defend this country against all enemies, foreign and domestic. This falls in my lane, and the White House agrees.”
“Well, I wasn’t at that meeting, now was I? I wonder how it would have gone if I had been.”
“It would have gone the same. My unit is already established within the network. This is not a time to be changing drivers.”
“You suspect AltCon of tampering with the minds of players—a serious criminal offense—and you want me to do nothing about it?” The Director quipped, tapping on the manila folder.
Within those pages was the framework, set up by the General, to get FBI assistance on the operation. In a support role only. The General needed more information about AltCon than his resources could uncover, and the FBI was the top game in town. The FBI, however, worked to investigate, arrest, indict, and convict. All of their efforts went toward those goals. In this instance, the General was telling them to stop after the first step. Investigate only. It’s why he wasn’t looking forward to this meeting. It’s like telling a soldier to advance on the enemy, but then don’t fire, even when fired upon.
“I don’t want you to ‘do nothing.’ I need the thing your Bureau does better than any other law enforcement agency in the world: unraveling the mystery. I have small pieces, Director, but there is definitely more going on here.” The General pointed at the folder. “You’ve read the report?”
“I have. That is why I don’t understand your request. Let me subpoena a few of the players and take brain scans. That should show the same results as your inside man.”
“Wouldn’t be enough.” Fortunately, the General had already predicted this suggestion. “We were lucky to have a historic brain scan—that DoD was in complete possession and control of—prior to taking the second one you see there. So our findings are not in question. Even if you could find a player who was willing to give a historic brain scan, there is no telling how that would hold up in court.
“Not to mention, who knows what the players would end up saying to their AltCon reps. Our guy has the training necessary to do the work and avoid suspicion.” The General thought he might have been selling Dan a little too hard at this point, but it wasn’t that big of a stretch considering how he altered his backstory as needed. “Grabbing random players could severely tip our hand and bring the operation to a grinding halt.”
“Isn’t the goal of the operation to stop AltCon from tampering with the players’ minds?” The Director asked, already knowing the answer to her question. “We’re putting people at risk to get the whale, and we both know it.” The General understood she wanted that part said out loud.
“You know that just stopping them isn’t the ultimate goal,” The general replied gruffly. “We want to stop AltCon entirely, and to do that we need to know why they are messing with these peoples’ heads.”
The Director of the FBI sat back in her chair and stared at the General for several long moments. Director Grissten would assist the DoD. That was not in question. The file on her desk was from the White House, and it had given her the most general of instructions to “support the General” in his operation. What the Director was deciding now was just how that support would manifest.
“Alright. You’re playing it straight with me. That’s the most I could ask for. Figured you would, but I had to be sure. What do you need if you don’t want us to build a case for the mind tampering?” Grissten asked while taking out an old-school notepad to write on.
The General nodded his head in thanks. “Information,” he replied. “Information on AltCon, their leadership, and any dramatic changes within the last six months to a year. I don’t have to tell you that discretion is key here.”
“You do realize you are talking about one of the largest companies in America, right? It’s not like I can just call down to the boys in ‘AltCon Division’ and have them bring up a file. I’ll have to assign some Agents. And you don’t need to tell me about discretion, General. I know what’s at stake here.”
“I know that.” The General made sure Grissten understood he had complete faith in her stewardship of the FBI. “And I’m not talking about a full work-up of AltCon’s history. Whatever they are doing would have to be decided at the highest levels. That’s who I want to know about.”
“Ok, that we can do. I can tell you right now that the CEO and President of AltCon, whom everyone just calls ‘The Old Man,’ is a bit of a recluse. Getting information on him won’t be easy.”
“I understand,” the General said.
“Anything else?”
“Robert Shoal. He was the lead designer for the game’s artificial intelligence. He died in circumstances that my office believes to be suspicious. I would like you to look into that as well.”
“Can’t just say, ‘We think someone killed him’ like normal people do?”
“I want your team to look at it without any preconceived notions.”
The Director finished taking notes and raised an eyebrow at the Gene
ral.
“That’s it. I know it isn’t much, but I will share fully with your office on this one, Director. I was not kidding when I told the President’s advisor that I believed this to be a great threat to our country.”
“Good to know. We’ll keep you informed as well.” The Director stood up from behind her desk and briefly rolled some of the tension out of her shoulders while looking out the window. “Now let’s go get some coffee, General. And you can start calling me Mel now. You know, since I’m not going to tear your head off.”
Chapter 4
October 14th, 2043
AltCon Tech Room
“Mr. Jolston, sir.”
Terrance Jolston looked up from the hand-held device he was holding and nodded toward the technician walking his way.
“Sir, you previously asked us to keep an eye on Subject 271, the player who noted a bug not previously seen in the game.”
“Yes, I remember the player. Is there an update?”
“The player continues to do well in the game, sir. His group received two titles: Bunny Slayer and Bandit Conqueror. His group was also the first to reach Level 20 and enter Kich’s Keep.”
“Items?”
“Mostly merchant bought and not terribly high. He has a nice dagger though, especially for a Rogue. He also has a summoned horse, although those have become more common in the game in the last few weeks.”
“He was the one with the Rabbit’s foot, right?”
The technician nodded his head. “That’s the one, Mr. Jolston.”
“Have there been any more reported problems with the log-in and log-out?”
“None, sir.”
Looking over at the technician this time, Jolston asked, “And do you see anything odd about the character?”
“Nothing, sir. Seems like a good player, the kind we wanted.”
Jolston appeared satisfied with this answer. As an afterthought, Jolston asked, “Out of curiosity, what is his Chance at?”
The technician reviewed his notes again and said, “Base 19. With bonuses, 26.”
Jolston had insisted on linking many of the games mechanics to Chance. Most didn’t know that. Only those in the technical department knew the secret, and they would never let it out. No one wanted to anger him.
“And is there anyone with a Chance score close to that?”
“I believe so, sir,” the tech said while reviewing the pad in his hand. “There is a Level 18 Dark Elf at the Citadel with a Chance of 17, but no bonuses. No one else comes close.”
“Well there you go. No surprise he is doing so well. I’ll be interested to see how he progresses. Keep me informed.”
“Yes, sir. I will make routine inquiries.”
*
I’m a moron. Like a newbie, I had spent the last three days running around the area with Dan, Jason, and Wayne killing anything and everything we came across. The whole time that damn quest given to me by the Wanderer weighed on my mind, and I knew we had to get it started.
The Wanderer. I’m such an idiot.
We wasted days running around when I had, literally, the greatest resource in the game at my disposal. A veritable WikiResurgence was over in the Underground.
We had collected tons of quest turn-in items, gained our Level 21, and had various pieces to sell. That was reason enough to go back to the Keep, where maybe I could start using the gray matter between my ears.
After turning in our quests and receiving some experience and cash, the group had a total of 2 Platinum to their name. This was enough to buy armor for me or Dan but nowhere near enough to take care of either Jason or Wayne. The turn-in quests were repeatable, so we refreshed those and then decided to take a few hours to ourselves.
Wayne believed Jenny and her group would be arriving at the Keep this morning, and he wanted us to be here to greet them when they arrived. I agreed wholeheartedly. Dan, naturally, wanted to scope out the multiple taverns in the city while Jason, aiming for something higher than baron, was off to see if there was a similar title quest in the Capitol. We all thought “Baron” was a good fit and told him so.
I told the guys I was off to scout out merchants. I headed toward the Underground, where I hoped to find the Wanderer. I had questions for him.
As I was heading down the last alleyway, Stan turned the corner, walking right towards me.
Stan was my first teacher and mentor in the game for using the unique Rogue Skills that the Wanderer told me only I had. He also seemed like more than just your regular NPC with depth and emotion. When I thought of him, I thought of how patient he had been. That isn’t an attribute one would normally ascribe to an NPC. It shouldn’t be any shock that when I saw my old mentor, I was all smiles.
“Sta—I mean Dhalean! How are you?” I yelled out as I approached him.
“Could ya possibly yell any louder boy? I don’t think the guards at the castle heard ya,” Stan rebuked, though he had a big smile on his face.
“Sorry. I’m really happy to see you is all.”
“Me too, boy. And this ain’t happenstance. I had someone at the gate watching for ya. I was coming to find ya, so this makes me life a bit easier.”
“Find me for what? I was just on my way to the Underground to see our friend,” I informed him.
“Well, as it turns out, it’s time for your next bit of training.”
“Oh. That’s awesome! What are you going to teach me?”
“Not I, lad. Him,” Stan said while pointing over toward a corner where a very handsome man was coming out of the shadows. He was human and dressed in the finest clothes I had ever seen. It wasn’t armor at all, just frills and lace. He was also carrying two very ornate daggers that shined in the little sun that sneaked into the alleyway. He was an NPC, and his name read “Waseem Harami.”
I turned back toward Stan and asked, “What can he teach me that you can’t?”
Stan just stood there patiently. When I turned back to look at the newcomer again, he was right next to me, just inside my personal space and a little too close for comfort. I took a step back and greeted him properly. “Alex,” I said while putting my hand out to shake. “It’s nice to meet you.”
The Rogue reached out with his own hand and then handed me my coin purse.
“What the hell?” I asked.
“I’m going to teach you how to be a thief. It is the second art of being a rogue. You already know how to sneak around, so says Dhalean, but it’s obvious you don’t know about protecting yourself from a cutpurse. I’ll teach you to perform the task and avoid letting anyone else do it to you. Well, except for me. I am a master after all.”
“A master of gibber gabber,” Stan said under his breath.
“Now, if you will follow me, I will begin your instruction,” Waseem said.
“It’s going to have to wait. I’m on my way to talk to the Wanderer. But I’ll meet you back here when I’m prepared to begin, or at the Stinky Pit if that is more convenient. Or wherever you deem appropriate.”
“The Stinky Pit will work fine, but I’m afraid we need to start now.”
“Sorry, can’t. Gotta go see the Wanderer. Bye,” I said as I was walking the last few steps toward the Underground.
Waseem never turned to follow me as he said, “Poor lad, it is not any young scamp who can walk through to the Underground and request a…hey, where did he go?”
Stan laughed as he walked away saying, “pompous git.”
*
The Wanderer was sitting behind the same desk when I entered his room. He looked to be expecting me.
“Alex. I’ve been following your progress, and I must say I am a bit perplexed. I saw that you activated the quest I set for you, and the main game quest, but you have not done more than that. Nor have you completed any of the other major quests in the game. You’ve been spending your time doing meaningless tasks for pittances. Please explain this.”
“Hello to you, too. It’s that very reason that I am here. We activated the quests for both the m
ain storyline and Lady Tessa, but we came to a very stark realization. We won’t be able to tackle these objectives, not with the gear we have.”
“I gave you this quest for the very reason of improving your gear. What is the problem?”
“You’ve seen my character. Hell, all of our characters. Our gear sucks. Yeah, we have some cool rare items, but we are still wearing low-level armor. We spent too much on the dwarves, and that hasn’t turned into a steady income, at least not yet. We went to see the Dwarves to fix that issue and to check on improving our gear. When we saw the prices, we couldn’t afford any of them,” I admitted.
“I told you, I can’t place items on mobs that aren’t already there. It would alert the people in AltCon,” the Wanderer reminded me.
“I don’t need you to mess with the game any more than you already have. What I need is information. Somewhere around here has to be mobs that drop money, or perhaps there’s a side quest we aren’t seeing. If I could find a cash cow, we could be on the road in no time. You literally run this game, so don’t worry about gear, just locations.”
The Wanderer closed his eyes for a moment and then nodded. “You are right, Alex. With your current equipment allocation, you would likely fall in combat to either the Trolls or the first part of Lady Tessa’s quest. You succeeded so quickly through the first part of the game that I did not factor in the level of your items. Your strategies were executed masterfully, and that led you here quicker than I anticipated.”
“Thanks. I do appreciate it, but even I have to admit that strategy can only take you so far. I can’t overcome insurmountable odds. So I need to even out those odds a bit. Makes sense?”
“It does. As I am sure you have noted, there are many types of creatures in Resurgence. Around the Keep you will find fauna, humanoid, and undead. Farther out there are flora that attack as well, but you won’t encounter them for some time. The animals provide little to no money, but their loot is the basis for all crafting skills. The humanoids are likely to drop items more frequently. The undead rarely have items other than spells, but they provide greater amounts of money. As you progress through the game, you will find that the items from animals will likely lead to a greater profit, but that is not the case now. Due to the average level of players and their respective Crafting skills, none could use the high-level animal items successfully, so they probably wouldn’t pay a fair price for them. Therefore, I suggest humanoid or undead. What is your preference?”
Restoration: The Rise of Resurgence: Book II Page 7
