Orc Glitch- The Mad King

by KJ Harlow

  Hundreds – no – thousands of spires filled the air, floating like direwasps in the crowd. They were mere feet away from the spectators, who were too scared to even cry. Fetter pulled his sword out of the dirt, glancing up and around. Not bad, he seemed to say to himself.

  “He wants us to fight him, one on one,” Kai growled.

  “How do you know?” Cal asked. The werejaguar gestured at the narrow, foot-wide paths that snaked from their point to the middle of the arena. It was one of two paths that Fetter had deliberately left. Every other inch of dirt had been turned into spire.

  “You got me good.” Fetter said, waggling his finger at Cal. “But like I said, I make the rules here.” He turned to C. She disappeared into the shadows of the tunnel leading to the waiting area.

  “I’m a man of my w-word,” – Kai snorted – “and I will leave Javal and Bracewell alone if you can win Round 3.”

  C reappeared, bringing someone else with her. The hostage clung to the shadows, unwilling to show his face. C stayed back, waiting patiently and quietly. Eventually, he revealed himself.

  She stepped out, her head bowed. Her hands were clasped in front of her body. She wore a one-piece dress, scarlet, like her hair with a dainty black ribbon around the waist. She raised her bruised face.

  Fetter was talking but he heard none of it. Nor did he hear the chaos erupting about him in the viewing stalls. In that moment, all he could hear was the ragged breathing of Natasha.

  Fetter turned around. “I’ve got to hand it to ya Javal, you know how to train your people to be loyal. This one wouldn’t tell me anything about you. Told me plenty about lover boy over there, though.” Fetter sniggered, eyeing Cal. He beckoned her to come forward. Natasha shuffled along the narrow path. She stopped halfway, peering over the edge. “Don’t even think about it,” Fetter warned.

  Seconds later, his arm was wrapped around her waist. Fetter licked her face; she didn’t even try to pull away from it.

  “Don’t touch her you freak!” Cal rushed across the chasm, his axe raised. Just as he was about to bring it down, Natasha stood in front of Fetter, her arms spread apart. A profound sadness marred her pale face.

  “That’s right ya sh-sh-shithead, I fucked your girl and she’ll protect me. Well technically, she’s protecting fat cat up there, but you aren’t the one she’s taking the f-f-fall for.” He shoved Natasha in the back and she stumbled into Cal. He wrapped her with his left arm, holding her close to him. Silent tears flowed from her face, staining his chest.

  “So what’s it going to be, b-buddy?” Cal didn’t say anything, staring daggers at Fetter. A notification popped up, filling up Cal’s entire vision:

  Decision Mission IV: Natasha or Bracewell?

  You need to choose whether it’s Natasha’s life you want to save or the people of Bracewell. This Decision Mission is slightly different in that there is no count down timer. The default option is that the people of Bracewell die. Every second that passes, Fetter will kill off one more Bracewellian, the last one being Javal.

  If you want to save Bracewell, Natasha’s life is the cost and you must be the one to take it away from her.

  “No… no…” he shook his head then looked across at C. “I’m not going to do this, let me out of here. Let me out of here, now!”

  “Cal!” Javal roared.

  His shout set off the rest of them in the arena. Suddenly, everyone was either calling his name or crying out for their hero. It came from everywhere, penetrating his being like foot-long needles. Elsewhere, Fetter was laughing. He had walked across the chasm and stood with C. She was staring at him, silently waiting for his response.

  He sunk to his knees in the middle of the arena, taking Natasha down with him. All around him, people were dying, his name the last word coming out of their mouths.

  “I’m sorry, Tash. I should have chosen to take you on that date. None of this would have happened, I… we…”

  She stared up at the orc’s tortured face, searching for something. “We what, Master Cal? Would have gotten married?” She bit her lip and smiled mischievously, a spark lighting up her eyes before fading as fast as it came.

  “I love you, Tash. I really do.”

  She smiled at him. It wasn’t a smile of acceptance or mutual affection, but a smile of pity. “I don’t know what love is. I’m not sure you do either.”

  “I do, I do.” He clumsily lifted her chin and kissed her tenderly, making sure not to bump her with his tusks. She didn’t pull away from him, again searching his eyes for something when he drew away from her.

  “If you truly know what love is…”

  “No, no, don’t say it–”

  “Callahan!” She shouted. She grabbed him by the tusks and dragged his face close. “Love is something precious. It’s something I don’t deserve. But if you love me like you say you do, you will kill me right now.” She lay down on the ground, hands clasped over her breast, looking straight up into the sky. Cal stood and continued to sob.

  More than 100 people had died and the count was only rising. Javal had turned away from the middle of the arena, his head in his hands.

  Cal drew his axe. He caught sight of his reflection. He was ugly, not because he was an orc or that he had tears running down his face, but because of what he was about to do. He knelt next to Natasha. Her eyes were bright, a peaceful smile on her face. He raised his weapon over his head.

  “Thanks for listening to my story.” She closed her eyes.

  Cal cried out as he brought his axe down. Succubus blood was a lighter shade of red, almost pink. It clung to the axe, more spurting out from her jugular, splashing onto the blade. He held it there until the flow stopped. The screams of chaos stopped also. They were replaced by cries of anguish that seemed to reach in and rake the darkest corner of his soul.

  Natasha had turned her hands out at the last second. She was grasping onto a piece of curled up, grey parchment. Cal gently eased it out of her cooling hands and read it:

  ‘A hero isn’t someone who knows what he’s doing; just that he’s doing the right thing.

  Part III

  The Mad King

  24

  Farewell Bracewell

  20,156th Cycle

  4-Hyten

  “Are you sure you want to do this now?”

  They were out a long way from Bracewell. Cal turned back and looked at the town he had called home for more than a moon. It was just like the other night, when C had beckoned him to visit her at the Falls: a dark smudge, dotted by pinpricks of light against the black sky.

  Marc and Anton regarded him closely. Kai shifted the weight between his bare, furred feet, half out of anticipation and half out of discomfort.

  “Yeah, let’s do this.”

  Marc and Anton exchanged a look. “Very well.”

  Marc turned back and faced the wind moon. She had sunk slightly beneath the horizon but that didn’t seem to dampen her effects. Squalls and gusts buffeted the four men as they surveyed the plains. Not a creature stirred for leagues around them. It was as if they were holding their breath in anticipation of what was about to happen.

  “The Fusion Attack requires the combination of two individuals who have at least a B level of support between them.” He nodded at Kai and Cal.

  “The Fusion Attack can only be used when at least one member of the pair’s moons is going through her cycle.” Marc turned back to face the large, pale disc shining brightly. “My Affinity is wind while Anton’s is fire. Now that Hyten is closest, we’ll be able to use the Attack. If Sibelle or Flulia was in phase, we wouldn’t be able to use it.”

  “That means that you could have shown us the Fusion Attack when you were training us, right? Because it was Karst?” Kai stopped moving around and addressed the Brigadiers. Marc and Anton nodded. Kai flicked a glance at Cal; he had his arms crossed and kept staring at the two men.

  “You will notice the multiplier in your status screen next to your Affinity. If it was one-Hyten, my element
al multiplier would be 30, since that is the point the moon is closest to me. Two-Hyten, it would be 29 and so on and so forth. My multiplier also starts increasing when the moon before mine, so Karst in this case, starts moving through her shifts. So when it’s say two-Karst, Anton’s multiplier would be 29 while mine would be two.” Marc turned back and face Cal and Kai. “Is that making sense so far?”

  “The proximity of the moons from Terrafaytum impact the power that they can imbue to users of that affinity,” Cal said. Another gust blew through, ruffling Cal’s purple head band.

  “Correct.”

  Anton stepped forward, his axe thudding against his hip. “What makes the Fusion Attack so powerful is that it not only allows you to attack with the power of two elements, but the multipliers allow you to amplify the damage you deal to opponents. To continue on from Marc’s example, if we were to launch our Fusion, we would multiply 29 which is his multiplier by two which is mine, giving us 58.

  “You then add together the levels of the two members in the fusion, so for me and Marc it would be 35 plus 32 gives 67 and multiply this figure with the 58, giving us 3,886. This is the amount of raw damage you can strike the opponent with.”

  Looks like the devs built in 133t mental arithmetic abilities into the people of Terrafaytum. “So the closer it is to the middle of a moon’s cycle, the more powerful the attack?” Cal asked.

  “Potentially,” Marc said. “If it’s the middle of Hyten, Karst is too far to have any effect on Anton, so his multiplier would be one. If it’s the middle of Karst, then Hyten is as close to Terrafaytum as Karst is, in which case both our multipliers are 15. That’s called a Focal Fusion Attack. That’s extremely rare though. Naturally, it’s difficult to plan battles ahead.”

  “So what does a Fusion Attack actually look like?” Kai was shifting the weight between his feet again.

  “It depends on whether your Support level is A or B, as well as the current arrangement of the moons.” Marc looked at Hyten, shielding the light from his face. “My multiplier is 26 right now, while Anton’s is one, so our Fusion will be wind dominant. If it was the other way around, then it would be fire dominant.”

  “And a Focal Fusion Attack?”

  Marc scratched his chin. “I don’t know to be honest. I’ve never seen one, nor have we cast one.” He looked across at Anton who shrugged.

  “Anyway.” Marc clapped his hands and straightened his back. “Enough talk.” Marc walked 20 steps away from Kai and Cal, Anton following behind him. Hyten stretched their shadows, making them look 30 feet tall. They deliberated quietly between themselves before standing apart, side by side. For several moments, they did nothing.

  There was a clash of metal on metal as Marc swung his sword up, while Anton did the same with his axe. They met in the middle and kept their weapons in contact with one another. The air grew heavy and humid. On cue, angry, black clouds rolled in in front of the brigadiers, seemingly out of no where. Wind buffeted Cal so hard that he fell flat on his back. A particularly strong squall swept Kai off his feet. He pulled his lance out and crunched it into the ground, flapping like a furred flag in the gale force winds.

  Flashes filled the sky in a space a few hundred yards wide and across. Lightning skipped and sizzled through the clouds. Marc and Anton disengaged their weapons, now glowing with a brilliant, white light. Anton swung his axe down and purple tinged lightning cracked into the ground, kicking up head-sized chunks of dirt.

  Marc did the same thing, swinging down but keeping his sword lowered. A bolt slammed into the ground, connecting it to the cloud. Wherever Marc moved his sword, the bolt would follow. Sparks flew as Marc kept the sustained lightning going until it dissipated. The clouds shrunk rapidly and once again, the only light that filled the the sky was that of the moons.

  Cal got onto his feet and dusted himself off. Kai had already run to the Brigadiers. He stared at something on the ground in front of them. Moments later, Cal was there, staring at the giant “M” Marc had carved into the dirt.

  “It’s important that you only use the Fusion Attack when your MP bars are full,” Marc said. He had his hands on his knees, as if he had just done a hard sprint. “That way, you’ll be able to make it last longer.”

  Marc and Anton waved goodbye before jogging back to the arena. There was significant clean up work they were in charge of. Kai trailed Cal slightly, sneaking glances at him as they walked into Bracewell. Hesitating, he jogged up to his side. Together, they walked back through the eastern thoroughfare through the city.

  “Orc.”

  “Mm?” Cal looked straight ahead. Kai opened his maw and closed it again, not sure what he planned to say. He looked around; there were far fewer people than the night of the final. Of the people who were there, most seemed to avert their gaze as the orc and werejaguar walked past them. A few blatantly stared at them.

  “Don’t let them get to you,” Cal said. Kai looked back at his comrade. “The people. Don’t let what they think get under your skin.”

  “Common Tongue.”

  Cal stopped walking and faced Kai. “It doesn’t matter what the people think about you. Just what you think about yourself. Kapiche?”

  Kai raised an eyebrow; he understood everything but the last word. “You saved these people, Cal. They have no right to make you feel like critter dung.”

  “I don’t feel like critter dung.” The orc resumed walking. “I know I rescued these people, but the fact of the matter is, hundreds more died unnecessarily. If I…” Cal trailed off, his jaw working as he clenched it shut. He reached up and undid the purple head band, shoving it into his satchel.

  “‘Hope you’re having fun, Cal.’” Cal laughed, a darkness Kai hadn’t heard discolouring his voice. “That’s what that bitch sent to me afterwards.” They were back in the square. For the last few moonshifts, it had been full of the mourning. Hundreds of corpses with gaping holes in their bodies had been laid here, identified then laid to rest. Now, it was empty.

  Cal sat on the raised platform. “After we left the merchant that night, I went and saw her. That hooded lady that’s always with Fetter. Do you know what she gave me, Kai?” The werejaguar stared down at him, his red, feline eyes unblinking. “She gave me a way out.” Cal opened up his settings screen and looked at the ‘Exit’ button. Sure enough, it was grayed out.

  “She gave me a choice. Exit the game now and leave ValorVale forever or don’t leave and stay here forever. Guess which option I chose.” Cal laughed darkly again, cradling his head in one hand. Kai sat down next to Cal.

  “She gave me exactly what I wanted, literally putting it in front of my face. She saved me the trouble of having to go all the way to find Fetter to ask what this bullshit was all about.” Cal shook his head. “People don’t know what they really want.”

  “Apparently you did,” Kai said quietly. He wasn’t used to situations like this, but only because no had come to him for advice before. The werejaguar found himself surprisingly comfortable sitting and listening to the Cal’s rant. “Otherwise you wouldn’t be here.”

  “Yes, apparently I did.” Cal was quiet. “Apparently, this game is way too immersive. It’s way too much fun running around, killing things, levelling up, casting craft and collecting loot. The NPCs: you, Javal, Keizen, Gram, Natasha…” he swallowed. “You are all so real. I must sound insane right now.”

  Kai kept quiet; there wasn’t anything he could say anyway.

  “Apparently, you are all so real that you make me start caring about you.” Cal placed his hands back and leaned on the platform, staring up at the sky. “We were meant to finish the tournament, I was meant to find Fetter, he was meant to tell me why I was stuck in the game then give me a way out, letting me leave but come back to play when I wanted to.” Cal chuckled darkly. “But apparently not.”

  “I was going to go on a date with Natasha. I know she’s a succubus, but…” Cal laid back and crossed his hands behind his head. “She made me feel like I mattered.” Someone
came into the square. Seeing Cal and Kai, they froze like a rabbit in the headlights before scurrying off. Cal hadn’t cried since he stood up to the Erika’s bullies. The tears felt hot and angry trickling down the sides of his face.

  “Why did they make me kill her, Kai?”

  “Why did the eryn attack us and kill my brother?” Kai mused. Cal closed his eyes. When he had stumbled upon Laish duking it out with Zkar in the forest all those moonshifts ago, little did he know that his naïve interference could have led to this.

  “I forgive–”

  “I’m going to–”

  The orc and the werejaguar both stopped. Neither of them were looking at the other.

  “I’m going to Thaylia to kick Fetter’s ass. I don’t care how strong he is, I’ve got all the time in the world to level up and make him pay. I don’t care if he just keeps respawning, I’m just going to keep fucking him up until he makes me beg for mercy.” He lunged up and flexed his arms, strolling around the square. “And after I’m done with him, I’m going to do the same to C.”

  Kai’s lance clinked into the ground as he stood up. “I’m coming with you.”

  Cal turned around. “No you’re not. Go back to the forest. Be chief. You’re stronger now.”

  “Not strong enough.” Kai stepped towards the orc. “We were at the very bottom of our division. Var, Zam, Marc, Anton… they were all stronger than us, not to mention Fetter. We only got to the final because the opponent was stupider than us. I’m not good enough to be chief yet.” He grabbed Cal by the collar and shoved him back, not hard enough to be considered an attack, but not gently either.

  “Besides, how are you going to launch a Fusion Attack by yourself, you imbecile?” Cal stared at him then shoulder-charged Kai. The werejaguar stepped out of the way like a bullfighter, giving him a kick in the back. Cal stumbled and banged his chin into the ground.