Oblivion's Crown

by M. H. Johnson

  He smiled at the now beaming bureaucrat, hardly feeling the weight of the leather backpack he now wore, still light and compact enough not to get in the way of his movements, taking the initiative and pouring all three of the men drinks from the tumblers he had brought along, just in case. “I’m not sure whose coins those are. I just noticed them on the ground. Perhaps they are yours.”

  Your standing has improved! The administrator now considers you to be: mildly amusing.

  The bureaucrat flashed Val a smile both jaded and approving as he took a sip of his drink, his subtle nod allowing the guards to join in.

  “Fine brandy,” one said, the other nodding.

  “Your hospitality is appreciated. And perhaps, just perhaps those coins are ones that I dropped. Your courtesy and honesty do you credit, Terran. Still, Highlord Avarum has already signed off his promised bonuses, so that limits my ability to… assist you.” The functionary sounded genuinely regretful, but shrugged as if it was the way of the world, taking a sip of the brandy and honoring Val’s grace with a dip of his head.

  Val chuckled softly. “Well then, Highlord Avarum will commend you! For you have before you a highly skilled Terran who would love to join your adventuring party, and is even willing to forgo the promised bonus! Thus your boss gets to save money while increasing the likelihood of success. When you think of it that way, it’s pure win for everyone! I get to join my fellows and help them overcome whatever perils await, your boss gets even more artifacts to reclaim at top rates, and best of all, he saves a hundred thousand credits while doing so. How could he not commend your acumen? Assuming he would even care to hear about such niggling details when he’s swimming in dwarven treasure, thanks to you.”

  Persuasion + Mercantile skillcheck: Success! Compromise reached!

  Congratulations! You have successfully quantized the skill Persuasion at Rank 1. Now you know how to manipulate people into doing what you want through enticement as well as terror. (But we all know terror is more fun!)

  The functionary smiled, saluting Val with his drink. “Lord Avarum can always use good men more interested in adventure and duty than simple greed alone. I think we can make a special exception for a promising adventurer who accepts the cost constraints before him, and I have waited long enough for the final member of our expedition party to make an appearance. It will be quite fitting, I think, for you to take that fool's place. Come, Terran, let me introduce you to your new companions.”

  Questline: Secrets Revealed accepted! You have been invited to help explore an ancient cave complex suspected of leading right to the heart of an ancient dwarven city! Can you and your newest companions survive the trials that await?

  And in very short order, a pleased Val was being introduced to the party, more Terrans in one place than he had seen since first arriving. Most gazed at Val indifferently, though a couple glared at him as the functionary showered praise upon Val before clapping his shoulder and heading back to his grand pavilion of a tent after telling them they had an hour to prepare.

  “So who the hell are you?” asked a kid wearing bright yellow breeches clashing brilliantly with his lilac doublet, with a pair of baby blue leather boots upon his feet and a dwarven half-helm atop orange curls. He wore a leather backpack much like the one Val himself wore, with a dwarven blaster on one hip and what looked to be a crystal wand at the other. Leaning beside him was one of the light reflective shields favored by Dominion troopers, great for parrying blaster fire, but not much else.

  His scowl grew as he sensed Val trying not to grin. “And don’t you dare give me shit about my outfit. This gear is ‘leet, and gives me bonuses to fire magic. So if you don’t like it, suck it!”

  “Wasn’t going to say a word,” Val assured. “You do what works for you, man. As long as you’re able to do your part, I’m not going to give you shit about the tools you use to get the job done.”

  “You say that like your word carries any weight around here, man,” said a dark-complected kid who was powerfully built and taller than Val, though he didn’t look any older than the other teenagers around him, decked out in what looked to be high quality steel, with a dwarven poleaxe in his hands.

  Val’s eyes widened, more than impressed. He knew exactly how deadly those artifacts could be, able to cleave through the weak points of even Elementium reinforced automatons, if the wielder was skilled in the use of the weapon, and had the Mana or Psions needed to catalyze the edge to deadly sharpness. It could probably cut through steel like butter, and would savage even dwarven armor, if he connected full force with his polearm.

  The young man slammed the hilt of his weapon against the ground, powerful arm muscles flexing with the gesture as the air rang with the crack of metal against stone. “My friend asked you a question. Who the fuck are you, and what makes you think you have any right to be here when that asshole turned my brother away at the fucking door of his keep, saying the quota was full!”

  Val shrugged his shoulders. “I have no control over what went down before. All I can tell you is that I’m here now, happy to do my part to see us safely through these ruins.”

  The guy scowled, looking almost ready to challenge Val, when an armored hand rested on his shoulder for a second.

  “Relax, Bill. He’s not the dickhead who set up this expedition. He’s just another player like us. We have no idea what the hell’s waiting for us inside, and we all know the cost of fucking up. The bonuses don’t come out of our pocket, so let’s take advantage of the free help.”

  Bill scowled but stepped back, glaring at Val before shaking his head. “Whatever, Mick. Why don’t you see if the fool can even use his sword?”

  Mick’s handsome square-jawed features widened in a smile, offering his hand. “Name’s Mick,” he said. “I don’t suppose you can use the shield and sword you’re carrying? Or, hell, share your class and level?”

  Val smiled, accepting the handshake. “Name’s Jager,” he said to the youth who was obviously their party leader. “Moed Jager. And before you ask, it's Dutch, not Jordian. And yeah, I’ve got a little bit of experience with dwarven weaponry, balanced just like migration era blades.”

  The kid in the clashing clothes scowled. “Could you have picked a more normal name? We all use our own for obvious reasons. And what the fuck’s this migration era shit?”

  “He means the bronze Viking swords the devs put in the game, Eric,” explained a petite girl of Asian descent, wiping imaginary dust from her own robe. “You know, just like the one at our Paladin’s hip? And if he wants to forgo a regular paycheck for being part of the official testing, and just make money off in-game loot exclusively, he can call himself whatever he wants."

  Arcane Sight skillcheck: Success! Obviously enchanted, Val sensed that the arcane weaves of the girl’s sea blue robe had something to do with Control and Water magics.

  Eric smirked. “Why the hell didn’t he just say that?”

  “Because this isn’t actually a game,” Mick snapped, glaring at the girl. “You die here, you die in real life. You and Jiu might be solid casters, Eric, but you guys have got to take this seriously! We’re really here, and what goes down here really will affect us back home.”

  Jiu rolled her eyes. “The jury’s still out on that, fearless leader. It’s the biofeedback that kills, and that Overlord shit we all saw on TV was just a prank. The president all but said it aloud at that televised conference, telling everyone to calm the fuck down, and the government’s so fucking embarrassed that black hats grabbed our entire intelligence infrastructure and blared that shit nationwide that they flat out refuse to even admit it even happened!”

  “But what about those deaths I heard about on the news?” whispered one nervous-looking girl of mixed descent. Her skin was so flawless, and exotic bronze features so perfect, that Val would have thought her a Jordian. And the way her big blue eyes exquisitely framed by lustrous ebony curls widened as she caught his gaze with the slightest gasp, made him pray she was struck by eit
her surprise or fascination. Recognition would be deadly. Yet the Highlord battlemesh perfectly covering her frame made it clear she had some experience as an adventurer, no matter that she radiated innocent wonder, gazing back and forth between Val and the others.

  “We can still die, Crystal,” Jiu snapped. “That’s biofeedback. Look, obviously none of us are idiots. We’re all wearing black cat helms in the real world. The only world, Mick, and this is all military grade bio-resonance crap designed to make us stronger, faster, and smarter. But if word actually got out that the military was involved with a project this dangerous, the government would get their asses handed to them in lawsuits and elections. So they need that bullshit conspiracy story to save their behinds.”

  She smirked and shook her head, fumbling for a flask. Val could smell the distilled alcohol from where he stood. “It’s also supposed to cure cravings, but it hasn’t done shit for me there.” She flashed a jaded smile. “But now my memory and focus are so good that I managed to pass my midterms with flying colors, just like the shrieking banshee wearing the face of my mother demanded. She didn’t even say anything when I got pulled over for drunk driving last week. At least telling the cops straight out that I’m a player got them to give me back my license, and they didn’t even fingerprint me.”

  Crystal frowned. “I thought your lawyer said you still had to go to rehab?”

  Jiu scowled. “Shut the fuck up, Crystal. That’s neither here nor there. The point is that this is some secret government bio-feedback project, and if it can make an A student out of a fuckup like me, god knows what else it’s doing to all of us.” She shrugged. “At least I get to cast spells here and blow crap up, and no one gives me shit if I want to get wasted and hook up with every cute guy I see, because this place is not real!”

  Eric’s eyes widened. He looked devastated. “But, Jiu...”

  Jiu rolled her eyes. “Relax, Eric. I was just making a point.”

  The young giant with the poleaxe shook his head. “You’re wrong, Jiu. If this were just a game, why the hell is the ‘government’ going to pay us each a million dollars, just for daring this delve? To say nothing of the shit we’ll find inside! If this is all digital, any dev would be a billionaire.”

  “Bill’s right” Mick said. “Each hundred grand coin we were promised is worth a million US cash. We’ve all heard stories of kids retiring with tens of millions of dollars to their names. Hell, we’ve seen a couple of them on billboards and TV commercials! And Congress refuses to make any law whatsoever about suddenly boosted high school seniors applying for the majors. And how many of us are wiping the field in whatever professional sport we try out for? Breaking weightlifting and track records, left and right.” He smirked and shook his head. “If this were just a program, the backlash would have at least barred high school students like us from pro football or something. But no, nothing. In fact, all the age and academic restrictions were lifted out of the fucking blue. As long as we test clean for enhancement drugs, no one says a thing.” His handsome features hardened. “Because no one dares to. Because our world really has been taken over by this Dominion, and useful adventurers like us are the only reason why they haven’t made slaves out of all of us!”

  “Whatever!” Jiu snapped. “What does it fucking matter, either way? If we’re dead we’re dead, so let’s just try to stay alive, the same as always!” She glared at a nervous-looking Crystal. “So for fuck’s sake, keep those healing spells flowing, okay, sister?”

  Crystal swallowed and forced a nod. “I will. You know I will.”

  Jiu took another sip from her flask before putting it away, scowling at Val. “I don’t suppose you can do anything useful besides swing a sword?”

  Val shrugged. “I’m good at scouting, and I have a few healing potions I can pass around in a pinch,” he said.

  “Outstanding,” said Mick. “Just save those for when we really need it. I know how expensive potions are here.” Fastening his barbute helm atop his full suit of plate and mail, most of it dwarven, he frowned curiously at Val. “I keep thinking that I’ve seen a sketch of you somewhere before.” He shrugged. “No biggie. I don’t suppose you happen to know any spells, or have any odd powers that might help us out in a pinch?”

  Val nodded. “I have the starter destruction spells. Didn’t really specialize in anything, so I’m sort of a jack-of-all-trades, I guess.”

  Bill smirked. “So you’re another idiot who didn’t think to focus his development. Which mean’s I’d wipe the floor with you in a duel, and you don’t have anything stronger than low-tier spells. Why are you here again?”

  Mick ignored Bill. “Alright. I assume you can use that sword and shield? And you can at least use starter spells like Ice Spear, Firestream, maybe Lightning Blast?”

  Val’s smile turned to a wry shrug. “I know the first two. I never picked up Lightning Blast. Didn’t see it cast enough times.”

  “Figures,” Jiu muttered. “Idiot doesn’t have a single area-of-effect spell.”

  “Don’t suppose you know Mageward?” Mick asked.

  Perception check made!

  Val nodded, sensing the semi-hostile mood of a crew convinced he was nothing but a half-competent hanger-on.

  Boosted Synergized Ward successfully cast! 50 Mana spent!

  He took more pleasure than he should have from the awed glances Jiu and Crystal flashed his way as the disc-shaped swirling matrix of energies formed a pattern that was almost hypnotic, radiating power that at least the mages in their group could sense.

  Eric’s eyes looked ready to pop out of his head. “Shit. Is that...” He slowly bent down and picked up a small stone, lobbing it at Val’s ward.

  Eric fell on his back when it bounced off. “Your ward’s fully synergized? I thought so when I looked at the pattern, but all those extra crimson and silver strands, all that weird complexity… Anyway, that’s some serious shit!”

  Jiu’s almond eyes widened, her gaze almost accusing. “That’s a Tier 4 Ward. At least! And Synergized? That means you have to have Rank 4 in Earth and Fire both! Just how fucking powerful are you? And why the hell are you dressed in dwarven armor? Why aren’t you wearing any enchanted doublets or robes?”

  Val blinked. “You didn’t get any ward affinity options when you first woke up? I doubled down on mine.”

  Suspicion and awe quickly transformed to smirks and head shakes. Jiu flashed a wry smile. “Let me guess. You’re another oddball who got nonstandard perks and some strange class that only makes sense to you.”

  Bill blinked, giving a slow nod. “Alright. You can tank. At least you’re not completely worthless.”

  Mick smiled. “Sweet, Jager. That’s what I like to see. Alright. You’ll tank front lines with me, while our snipers and pikers blast shit from behind. You ever fight in formation?”

  Val smiled. “I know to keep low when halberdiers or pikemen are striking targets from above my head.”

  Mick nodded. “Or we’ll keep a couple feet apart, let our companions strike in the gaps, but we keep anyone from pushing past us.” He suddenly frowned. “Our other shieldman should have been here an hour ago. Crap. We might just have to start without him. Anyway, let me introduce you to the rest of our crew. Reed, Snipe, come over here.”

  Val glanced in the direction his nominal team leader was pointing at, noting the pair of tall, lanky, swarthy-featured men who were perfect mirror images of each other, obviously twins. They looked to be in their mid-twenties. Val found it interesting that they allowed themselves to be led by players still in their teens. Both wore suits of Highlord battlemesh reinforced with dwarven chestplates and helms; both wielded six-foot long triple-pronged tridents with backup short swords at their waists.

  “Name’s Snipe,” said the closest, offering his hand. “Nice ward.”

  Val nodded, shaking the man’s hand. The man kept his cold grin in place as he slowly increased his grip.

  Contest of Strength engaged!

  Val’s own half
-smile didn’t move a hair as he met the pressure and squeezed in turn.

  Snipe’s brow furrowed before his eyes widened in sudden pain.

  He forced his snarl into a rictus smile. “At least you’re not completely pathetic,” he said, Val relaxing his grip, the man yanking his hand away.

  Jiu smirked. “What’s wrong, Snipe, did the oddball hurt your hand?”

  Snipe glared. The prongs of his trident suddenly crackled with electricity.

  “Guys!” Mick snapped. “Let’s keep our eyes on the prize, alright?”

  Val then shook Reed’s hand, his gaze no less cold than his brother’s, though he forbore any squeezing contest. “You taking Merlon’s place?” was all he said.

  Val frowned, turning to Mick. “Who the hell’s Merlon?”

  “He’s the guy that never showed up,” Jiu snipped. “And after we made a safe point at the obelisk just inside the cavern and hopped home after partying our asses off last night. But since the alcohol here is no more real than this game, Mick, I know we all got our fucking beauty sleep, hangover-free, so the fact he’s not even here tells me he’s a complete lush.”

  She frowned, shaking her head before taking another sip from her flask. “Even I held off last night, and I was thirsty as hell, once I logged off.”

  “Does it help?” Val asked, pointing at her flask.

  She flushed, glared, then gazed at him thoughtfully for a few minutes before giving a slow nod. “Actually, it does. If I drink here… I, I’m better at home. Not when mom’s yelling a tirade. Not when my uncles are at the house. But if things are calm… yeah. I guess maybe it does help a little.” She scowled. “But don’t go trying to psychoanalyze me or anything. I get enough of that shit with my therapist back home. Not like it fucking matters, anyway. My mom refuses to believe a single thing she says.”