An offer from the authors! The pre-released price has been dropped to $0.99. Everyone who’s already preordered the book will only be charged $0.99 on the release day. Secure your copy now!
Friday, August 28, 2015
Pre-order discount for The Lag
An offer from the authors! The pre-released price has been dropped to $0.99. Everyone who’s already preordered the book will only be charged $0.99 on the release day. Secure your copy now!
Sunday, August 16, 2015
The Lag (The Game Master: Book #1) Chapter Two
Chapter Two
Chapter Two
His head spun. Attila staggered but kept his balance.
He could walk! Okay, let's try it again.
He took another
step. And again, trying to relax and breathe in synch. That was it. He was
fine. He wasn't wheelchair-bound anymore. He wasn't a cripple. His legs were
there: strong and healthy, his amblers, his supports, his very own limbs! He
could will them to move! It wasn't his cartoon character on screen but he
himself, Ivan Attila, happily sauntering around!
Attila ran his hands
down his thighs, then did a few sit-ups. He laughed. He couldn't remember the
last time he'd been this happy.
The wind rippled
the grass around the portal station; it ruffled the branches of the towering
poplars whose tops pierced the clouds. The sun would come out, revealing
patches of bright blue amid the menacing clouds and spotting the valley below
with gold. Then the clouds would close in, submerging the world below in a
chilly gloom.
Shaking his head,
Attila took in the cool air. So this was the Dead Canyon. The land of sorcerers
and necromancers, of witches and the undead, vagabond pioneers and Royal
legionnaires, peddlers and dark knights; of humans, dwarves and Elves as well
as monsters of every possible caliber.
Right. Time to turn
to business. No matter how good he felt, he had a few debts to pay. Which meant
he had to get the God's Eye off his hands and pretty quickly, too.
He shifted his
shield from his arm to his back. Off we go, then! All the way to the Unicorn
Tavern, chop chop!
Yeah right, dream
on. Immediately he noticed the Rot glowing in front of the castle wall. This
was one hell of an acid-like aberration that could eat right through you down
to the bone. Next to it lurked an almost indistinguishable Butcher, betrayed
only by a slight quivering of the fabric of reality by one of the poplar's
roots. This was something much worse: a gravitational aberration that could, if
you weren't careful, suck you in and grind you into bone dust, then spew you
out scattering your powdered remains to the wind. In daytime you might just
about notice it if you were lucky but at night it was virtually invisible.
Aberrations were
localized phenomena of magic nature that had been discovered at the Dead Canyon
after the first Magic Storm. Although dangerous, they could generate artifacts
of unique and useful properties. This generated a considerable infusion into Gryad's
economy as its artifact market was estimated at several million dollars.
The area bordering
on the Dead Canyon was known as the Frontier Valley and the ruins of a castle
and the wall around it, the Fortress. It used to be controlled by the Awesome
clan but recently they'd been driven out. Afterward, the area had been trampled
by one of the occasional monster stampedes. These days it was a quiet location,
neutral and sparsely populated.
Lots of things can
change in a game. Players come and go; the internal balance of power can change
and so can the map of aberrations. Some things, though, remain the same. Like
the Unicorn Tavern, always open in the Fortress donjon: a place to stretch your
legs after a raid and to sell or swap your findings.
Attila gave these
aberrations a wide berth. He climbed through a breach in the wall and walked
past a couple of ruins overgrown with moss. The donjon rose before him. He
slapped his belt bag where he kept God's Eye and hurried on, not forgetting to
watch where he was going. The Dead Canyon was one dangerous place. If he was
killed now, the cheat would probably stay on his corpse. Which meant he'd have
to retrace his tracks from the portal station, risking being late for his RV
and - much more importantly - risking someone else picking God's Eye up from
his dead body.
The tall angular
donjon made of large slabs of stone towered before him. A squawk came from above.
Mechanically Attila reached for his sword, then swore under his breath. This
was Bestia, a harpy that lived alone in her nest on top of the donjon. She was
as mad as a bat. Harpies are, normally, but this one had a couple of screws
loose. Every time someone approached the center of the fortress she would
scream her head off warning the tavern's guards about a new visitor and
showering him with her fossilized feces. Although she never actually hit anyone
with it.
The breach in the
donjon wall that offered access to the tavern faced north. Attila was
approaching it from the west. Instead of entering the building, he stole a look
around and turned toward a tall copse of bushes. He climbed inside and crouched
on the ground. Then he opened the Book and reached for the God's Eye in his
belt bag.
No player was ever
without his Book. You couldn't lose, sell, steal or give it away. The Book's
appearance differed depending on your level. At first it was little more than a
miserable-looking journal bound in cheap leather, but as you progressed through
levels, it transformed into a precious manuscript inlaid with precious gems.
You could leaf through it; alternatively, you could transfer your interface
onto its cover. As a level 29 Ranger, Attila owned a beautiful Book bound in
embossed morocco leather and topped with a fancy frame surrounding the magic
screen. Instead of all the buttons and the joy stick he had four oblong
crystals, one in each corner of the Book: white, blue, green and black. You
could press them, sinking them into the soft leather, and also turn them
knob-like... overall, this was an excellent thing available to everyone level
20 and above. It had cost Attila two hundred gold but it was worth every penny.
He pressed the
white crystal, then turned the green one. The bag on his belt twitched. The
silver disk of God's Eye soared into the sky, clicking; it splayed its arms
out, unfolding into a steel six-pointed star. An open eye glowed in its center,
its black pupil floating in a hemispherical pool of mercury. Its arms dripped
magical runes that slowly melted in the air.
The artifact
stopped about fifty feet above the ground. Attila pressed the white crystal
slightly, activating its stealth mode. The star streamed charges of lightning,
dematerializing. It wasn't a hundred percent invisible but if you didn't know
it was there you'd be hard pressed to find it.
He reached into the
bag again, producing his pride and joy: a pair of large copper goggles complete
with a leather strap. Attila had modeled them after the Goggles of Underground
Gloom which he'd bought from a dwarf player who'd managed to come back from the
Steam Tunnels alive and in one piece. The modified goggles still allowed you to
move in the dark dungeon without a torch or other source of light, but now they
also served a new purpose.
Attila put the
goggles on and secured the strap around his head. He turned the black crystal
on the book cover. A small round window appeared in the goggles' left lens. He
turned the blue crystal slightly, and the Eye in the sky rotated, following its
movement.
The little round lens
blinked. Overlapping the view around, it offered a bird's eye view of the area.
Bestia soared over the donjon, oblivious to God's Eye watching her. Ruins bared
their grinning stumps of walls from the sea of greenery. Slowly God's Eye began
to rotate, offering a panoramic view.
So, what did we
have here? The Eye offered a view of the donjon's flat roof complete with
Bestia's nest made of a paraphernalia of twigs, bones and withered pelts of
small forest creatures. Then she was back, landing and taking her place in the
nest. Harpies were sharp-fanged creatures dressed in scruffy tunics made of
animal pelts. They had female bodies, emaciated arms and a pair of scraggly
skeletal wings on their backs. Harpies were known for their nasty and
quarrelsome character, aggressive with newbs and cowardly with established
gamers.
Bestia crouched in
her nest and froze, staring into space. Attila couldn't see her face from above
but he could well imagine it, spiteful and dumb. Despite the fact that harpies
walked around half-naked, they were about as sexy as a geriatric frog.
He motioned the Eye
further on and squinted, focusing on a hole in the wall overgrown with
brambles. This was the entrance to the Tavern.
A man clambered out
and stood up, looking about himself. He wore a checkered bandana, a gray and
green hunter's jacket and a tartan kilt. A highlander, oh right.
The man carried a
leather backpack. In one hand he held a short spear. And if Attila lowered the
Eye slightly and looked at him from a different angle... oh, yes. Now he could
see the man's short dark beard and his bushy eyebrows. His powerful legs were
stuck into a pair of fur boots.
The highlander
shrugged and began forcing his way through the bushes. At least he seemed to be
heading in the opposite direction from the portal station. Attila wasn't
exactly looking forward to meeting the guy face to face.
In any case, it
looked like the Eye was working. True, it wasn't exactly legal. It could easily
get him collared by the legionnaires:
the players hired by the Admins to perform police functions. The only thing
left was to get paid for it.
Attila stood up.
The whole thing was a piece of cake. He had the goods; his customer was now
waiting for him in the tavern, prepared to part with a hefty sum of money. So
why did he have this bad feeling? He seemed to sense someone's stare focused on
his back.
Attila changed the
Eye's settings so that it hovered nearby the donjon, rotating slowly. The image
in his goggles and on the cover of the Book also began to rotate. Good. Let it
stay there and scan the area. This wasn't some Mickey Mouse business. Attila
was playing big time. Security was key.
He shut down the
Book view and began walking around the donjon, keeping an eye on the image in
his goggles. Immediately he stumbled into some gelatinous goo. The fabric of
reality around him thickened, rippled with interference. Then it all ended. An
aberration? There was no record of anyone encountering them so close to the
tavern. A glitch? Most likely. Never mind. It didn't seem to have affected
anything. Time to move on.
He climbed through
the narrow hole and found himself in a room with a door watched by two NPC
guards. A torch burned brightly. One of the guards was sitting on an upended
bucket; the other was leaning against the wall. Whoever entered the room, their
modus operandi didn't change: the one on the bucket raised his loaded crossbow,
aiming it at the guest, while the other laid his hand on his broadsword and
demanded,
"Who the hell
are you? What's your business?"
"Need a
drink," Attila dropped as he walked through the door.
"Leave your
weapons over there!" the guard barked at his back.
He went down a
staircase lit by another torch which was stuck into the crown of an enormous
skull that sat on one of the steps. Below, a copper-lined door led into the
tavern. Joel the guard stirred next to the shelves laden with various weapons.
He was an NPC, too.
"Lay your
weapons onto the shelf!" he commanded.
You couldn't enter
the tavern while carrying weapons in any shape or form. The door just wouldn't
open. Every game had to have safe locations like this.
Attila ran a
nonchalant hand across his chest, removing his sword and the shield, then
unbuckled his knife and laid it onto the shelf. Joel watched over him, playing
with his broadsword. The only thing Attila had kept was a large iron medallion
on his neck in the shape of a two-pronged fork. Attila had been allowed through
while carrying it hundreds of times before; the game security just failed to
detect it. And still he breathed a sigh of relief when the door opened before
him.
The tavern was lit
by oil lamps hanging from hooks. Two patrons were engrossed in a game of cards
at the nearest table; they turned their heads for a look and immediately lost
all interest in him. A gaunt stooping Elf nursed his mug on a bar stool; he
looked around, saw him and reached for his backpack lying on the spare stool
next to him, moving it onto his lap.
Two more men were
having dinner at the other end of the room next to the door that led to the
castle's dungeons. The one that was facing him raised his head, meeting
Attila's stare; then he looked back down at his plateful of meat stew. His
friend kept rattling his spoon against his own bowl gulping his food down
greedily, his ears moving with the effort.
Attila nodded to
the landlord behind the bar. His name was Barb - and he was actually a unicorn.
Or rather, an animal humanoid. His body was perfectly human, ending in a
horse-like neck and head topped with a long horn. A long time ago, when Attila
had still been learning the local lay of the land, someone had told him Barb's
story. His name was indeed Barb: a seedy vendor dealing in some questionable
goods who one day had the misfortune to rip off a Barbarian Shaman by selling
him some run-of-the mill deer horns in place of the unique Unicorn horns famous
for their magic properties. The shaman - who happened to be a worshipper of the
Beast God - saw right through his little scheme and cursed the landlord,
turning him into his current shape. After that, no one wanted to deal with him
so he opened the tavern instead.
Upon seeing Attila,
the landlord shook his mane and neighed curtly, motioning him to enter. Attila
found it funny that he could both speak and neigh like a proper unicorn.
Finally Attila saw
his customer.
A large bearded
half-orc clad in a shiny bulbous cuirass (he'd identified himself as Beast at
their initial RV) was sitting at a table not far from the bar. In front of him
lay his helmet adorned with a picture of a fanged orc skull and crossbones. It
was tacky as hell but it did catch your eye. An enormous mace lay on the table
next to it.
The half-orc raised
his huge beam of an arm, motioning Attila to approach. He bared his yellow
fangs in a grin, then raised his beer mug by way of greeting him.
Attila took a seat
at the table next to him. The half-orc had pale-blue skin. A scar ran across
his temple. His long beard was tied in a knot at the end; as for his hair, it
was unusually thick, resembling a nest of little snakes. A bowl of pickles
stood on the table next to a second mug. Beast reached out and filled it from a
keg.
"Cheers, man!
May the Canyon be good to us!"
Attila reached for
the mug and drank the toast. Beast's Adam's apple twitched as he poured the
beer down his neck. Then he grunted, pounding his nearly-empty mug onto the
table. Attila barely touched his drink.
"So? Have you
got it?" Beast craned his powerful neck toward him. His voice sounded
impressively husky but still Attila thought he could detect a sour note. His
customer must have been young - most likely using a voice changer attached to a
microphone to sound older.
The customer cast a
furtive glance around and leaned toward Attila. His dark orcish eyes glistened
as he repeated,
"So, you got
it? Show me. Can't wait."
His boyish
intonation didn't match his militant stance. When an enormous bearded hulk of a
half-orc complete with scars, weathered skin and fat greedy lips begins to
fidget and pull faces, it admittedly looks funny.
"Relax,"
Attila said. "Calm down, man. You're attracting attention. You sure you
got the money?"
"Where's my
cheat?" Beast raised his voice.
Attila cast a
worried look around. "Put the voice down, you idiot!" he hissed.
Beast shrunk his
head into his shoulders. "Why?" Not receiving an answer, he sat up
straight again. "Who do you think you are?"
Jesus. Attila
heaved a sigh. "The Eye is hovering over the donjon's roof," he said.
"It's transmitting the images here," he reached into his bag for the
Book and laid it on the table. "Wait, I'm gonna turn it on now. Can you
see? You can control it via these crystals. Here, try it."
Continuing to
explain, he pushed the Book toward Beast who immediately began pressing and
turning the knobs, open-mouthed with the effort. When the image in the frame
obeyed his actions commanding the Eye to move, he beamed like a little boy.
Yes. This was a
boy. He must have stolen the money from his parents. Having said that, some of
these kids were quite capable of earning large sums by gaming, much more than
their dad could bring home by busting his hump on some assembly line. Attila
kept explaining the details while casting occasional glances at the helmet.
What a stupid logo.
The bad foreboding
arose in him again. He cast an inconspicuous look around. No one seemed to be
paying any particular attention to them. Everything was business as usual. And
still-
The landlord and
the hunched-up Elf by the bar were talking in low voices. The Elf finished his
mug in one swig and cast a nonchalant glance at Beast and Attila.
Attila didn't like
it. Then again, there was nothing suspicious about the man. It wasn't even the
patrons that worried him, it was the tavern itself. There was something wrong
about the whole setup. What could that be? He didn't notice anything out of the
ordinary.
"Cool,"
Beast mumbled, playing with the Eye. The image on the book cover kept rotating.
The picture in Attila's left goggle lens mirrored its movement. He could see
the room and he could also see the overlapping view of the ruins outside, the
bushes and the donjon.
Beast had found
Attila via one of his old clients. He'd contracted him to make the Eye: an
absolutely indispensable thing for every ranger, whether alone or in a group. A
cheat like that could seriously improve your chances of survival in the Dead
Canyon. The problem was, it wasn't exactly legal. The emphasis being on
"exactly". The truth was, the Admins had chosen to close their eyes
to the players' use of cheats which admittedly added to the game's appeal. On
the other hand, they tended to unsettle the game's balance which was why cheat
builders were prosecuted, arrested and heavily fined.
Admins didn't
bother to arrest them themselves, though. They had specially hired players to do
just that. Called Legionnaires, these too were obliged to follow the game's
rules just like everybody else. Well, almost. The constant standoff between the
legionnaires and cheat masters that often resulted in major confrontations were
Gryad's special feature: a fun addition to the game which added to its
excitement.
Attila frowned.
There was one other strange thing about the tavern. It was nearly empty.
Normally, the Unicorn was packed. He'd never seen even half of its tables
empty; now virtually all of them were deserted.
"I'll take
it," Beast announced.
"Quiet,
you," Attila hissed. "What's wrong with you, man? Can't you keep your
voice down? It's five and a half grand."
Beast's eyes opened
wide with indignation. "You said it was four!"
"I had to buy
some native software. Couldn't get any hacked ones. Didn't I warn you that the
price might rise? I did. So if you want it, you'd better pay now."
Attila pulled the
Book closer and closed the Eye's view on the cover, opening his payment
provider instead. Beast stared at him, mouthing something.
Attila knew this
old salesmen's trick. You had to hand the goods over to the client so that he
could hold it, touch it and feel that it was already as good as his. Then you
took it back from him. Subconsciously the client would already regard the item
as his own and would be much more prone to buy something he otherwise wouldn't
have. So now Attila was sure this Beast wasn't going to reconsider.
He was desperate,
too desperate to be unscrupulous over such tricks. Besides, he'd indeed gone
over his budget while working on the Eye. A visit from some shady debt
collectors was the last thing his wheelchair-bound body needed. He had to raise
the money today, by hook or by crook.
Beast sniffed
unhappily.
"Have you ever
used the in-game banking system?" Attila asked.
"Of course I
have. Who do you think I am?"
"I don't know,
do I? I'm not talking about shopping. I mean a direct transfer between
accounts."
"I know what
you mean."
"So send it,
then. Or are you not taking it? I'll be off, then," Attila reached for the
Book. "It's not a problem to find another customer for this."
"I am!"
Beast gasped. Stealing a look around, he reached for his backpack that lay on
the bench next to him. He rummaged through it for his own Book and placed it on
the table. It looked truly Barbaric with its rough leather cover, all scratched
and dented. Instead of crystals, he had four skulls mounted in the cover's four
corners. The screen was framed with a pattern of bones.
"Don't
look," Beast said, leaning over his Book and covering it with his elbow.
"I need to enter the password."
Attila, however,
looked hard - but not at the Book. He was peering at the outside view that the
Eye was sending to his goggle lens, watching five legionnaires circle the donjon.
They were clad in light knee-length chainmail shirts with an emerald sheen.
Their signature helmets were topped with birdlike beaks. The legionnaires were
armed with bastard swords which they wore whenever they weren't undercover.
They never used shields, relying on their powerful arm bracers with which they
parried the fiercest of slashing blows.
They hurried
through the brambles toward the donjon. Were they just patrolling the area? Or
were they on a manhunt?
Slowly Attila
turned his head and looked at Beast. The understanding came too late.
Beast glared back
at him. "Quit staring! I don't need no password spies!"
Attila cast a quick
glance at the two men by the back door. Why had they chosen that particular
table? And the card players by the front entrance, weren't they sitting there
to cut off all possible escape routes? And this Beast... he was trying too hard
pretending he was an unskilled noob.
Shit. This was a
sting.
They'd been waiting
for him. Wanted to catch him red-handed. He, Attila, had given the RV details
to his customer who was in fact an undercover legionnaire. This wasn't the real
Tavern: the NPCs had lured him into its copy created specifically for the
purpose of entrapping him. What was that spell called - Smoke and Mirrors? A
powerful piece of magic and prohibitively expensive, too. To cast it yourself
you had to be a level 80 wizard which was something only Elven wizards - and
maybe the Drow too - could afford with their racial magic bonus. And the
gelatinous goo he'd walked in as he tried to enter the donjon was no glitch,
either. By walking through it, he'd triggered the trap.
The Elf by the bar
stood up. The landlord leaned over him, explaining something while casting a
big horsey eye at the table where Attila and Beast were sitting.
How sure was he
that this was indeed Barb? Most likely, the character was being controlled by a
legionnaire player, someone in the RussoVirt office who'd taken over from the
game's AI for this occasion.
"Whatcha
lookin' at?" Beast asked warily.
"Waiting for
you to enter the goddamn password," Attila mouthed while undoing the top
button of his shirt. Pulling inconspicuously at the chain, he produced the
two-pronged medallion. It was flat and almost as large as the palm of his hand.
Immediately it began whizzing. Bright blue charges of lightning emitted from
both its ends.
"What d'you
think you're doing?" Beast tried to grab Attila's hand while reaching for
his mace.
Attila stood up and
jabbed the fake customer's chest with his weapon. A blue light flared out; the
air crackled with static, spreading an aroma of seaweed. Beast flew back like a
dry leaf caught in a gust of wind.
Triton's Fork was
one hell of a weapon. Triton was an ancient sea god; the medallion had
preserved a tiny speck of his strength. To resist Triton's Fury spell, you had
to have a top set of armor and a whole bunch of Earth-bound amulets.
Leaping to his
feet, Attila scooped his Book from the table and kicked the bench to trip the
stooping Elf who was rushing toward him. The Elf clattered over the floor.
Beast cussed and grabbed at the wall trying to scramble to his feet, then
tumbled back down on his rubber legs.
Attila whipped out
a vial from a belt pouch and poured its contents down his throat. He had over a
dozen such pouches with a wide choice of potions and elixirs, each in its
respective quick access slot. He could feel the Giant's Strength fill him with
enough power to lift the table and use it against the two guarding the back
door, sweeping them off their feet. Giant's Strength was an enhancing elixir
that only worked a few seconds, but that was plenty.
By the time the
legionnaires stomped into the room, Attila had broken down the back door, run
through a small passage and rammed a second door that led into a small
storeroom. Once inside, he slammed the door shut propping a heavy crate against
it, and then kept running.
He'd never been in
this part of the tavern: a succession of dark pantries and storerooms. Attila
very nearly stumbled into a heavy chest that stood in the middle of one such
chamber. Without stopping, he leaped over it and ran out, finding himself back
in the dark low-ceilinged corridor. The grim pattern of the walls' stonework
repeated itself again and again.
Finally, the
stairs. They should lead into the donjon's main room. He ran up the steps,
simultaneously whipping out the Book and lowering the Eye trying to make it
enter the main room. But operating the Eye on the run wasn't easy. He missed.
The steel star hit the wall. He could hear screams and a hell of a racket outside.
Attila stopped and
began fiddling with the Book's crystal knob. The Eye left the donjon's wall and
ducked into a window. Attila rearranged his goggles and hurried on, peering at
the view in his eye lens as he ran.
Far below, he could
see the donjon's round hall overgrown with grass and small shrubs that grew up
through the cracks. The stone floor was littered with bones and bits of broken
furniture. Attila noticed a round trapdoor in the floor by the wall. Was it
where this staircase was taking him? It definitely looked that way.
Two men stood over
the trapdoor. One was wearing the beaked helmet and a bastard sword. The other
wore a checkered bandana and a kilt. He was holding a short spear. Had Attila
chosen the Imitation mode, he could expect a prompt to jump up next to the
player's spear,
A pole weapon used for thrusting and throwing and used
both as a projectile and melee weapon.
So this highlander
was on the Admins' payroll too? An undercover agent, oh great. They were
waiting for him, the tips of their two weapons pointing at the trapdoor.
He heard the sounds
of splitting wood far behind him. The crate hadn't stopped them. They were
coming for him. He had nowhere to escape.
He could already
see the end of the stairs and the barred trapdoor. Attila slowed down, trying
to step noiselessly. The two men above him mustn't hear his approach. They had
no idea he could see them.
He recognized
Beast's indignant bellowing. Attila gulped. Thoughts rushed through his mind,
running in circles like a pack of excited dogs. There's always a way out. He
spun the crystal knob, causing the immobile image in his eye lens to jerk back
into motion. The heads of the two men began to fade away until the Eye reached
the room's ceiling.
Attila spun the
knob in the opposite direction, forcing the Eye to go back. The bandana agent
must have sensed something. He was about to turn around when the eye smashed
into his head.
Thump. The image
jumped and rippled. Attila didn't watch further. He forced the bar aside and
swung the trapdoor open, jumping inside. Before the second agent could recover,
Attila sent him flying with a hearty well-aimed punch. Yelling, the man landed
crunching onto a heap of stones.
Attila darted
across the room, heading for the door. Now: command the Eye to soar up, direct
it out of the window and refocus the Eye to watch the area behind it, synchronizing
its movements with Attila's own. This way he could see his pursuers.
Actually, he
already could. Beast, the five legionnaires, the stooping Elf, the kilted agent
- all present and correct, chasing after him.
Attila scrambled
deep into the thicket where they couldn't see him. His pursuers ran out of the
donjon and paused, looking around and listening.
Should he log out
and quit the game in a hurry? But that way, he risked losing the Eye. Then he'd
have nowhere to get the money from. This was his own fault, choosing the life
of a lone recluse. Not a good thing, especially when you're handicapped. Now he
had no friends to urgently borrow the money from. So losing the Eye wasn't an
option.
Should he hurry
back toward the portal station? If he ran they'd hear him but if he walked
fast...
He took a few
tentative steps, leaving the donjon behind. The hole in the wall gaped right in
front of him. Now run, swiftly as a fox.
He climbed out of
the hole and crossed the gooey area again, successfully leaving the virtual
trap. Hiding in the tall grass, he peered at the portal station. Shit. They
were waiting for him there.
That left him with
only one option: the Gamekeeper's hut. This was now the nearest portal station.
Not the safest of places, considering the ghoul that lived in the marsh nearby.
Few players ever ventured there.
He began walking
away, listening to the disturbed donjon's noises and to the voices of his pursuers.
As he passed some poplars, he was very nearly caught by another aberration, the
Stinging Thorns which pierced everyone they trapped with long bone needles. He
gave them a wide berth and entered a small grove while controlling the area via
the Eye. His pursuers had split: Beast in his bulbous cuirass and stupid helmet
was clutching the mace, leading six legionnaires in the same direction as
Attila was heading. The second group had taken a sideways route, gradually
moving away from him.
The Stinging Thorns
were now in Beast's way. If only they trapped his pursuers! But Beast raised
his hand, motioning his men to stop. He'd seen it, the bastard. They
circumvented the aberration just like he'd done a moment ago and continued on
their way.
Attila walked faster.
The legionnaires had to know about the second portal station. That's exactly
why they were moving in that direction. Never mind. If he stayed on top of
them, they wouldn't be able to catch him red-handed. Their job was to apprehend
an offender in flagrante just as the
illegal software was changing hands. In order to prosecute him, they needed to
catch him in the act. So he absolutely had to beat them to the station. Because
if they caught him...
He shrugged the
thought away. If they caught him, then he'd have problems. Big ones.
A special
pre-release discount! Click here to
preorder The Lag (The Game Master Book#1)
on Amazon for only $2.99!
Release date: October 12 2015
Saturday, August 15, 2015
The Lag (The Game Master: Book #1) by Andrei Levitsky & Alex Bobl
As a shady blackmarket programmer, Ivan "Attila" is never short of customers. The gaming world of MMORPG always needs his services: all those knights and thieves, vendors and vagabonds, monsters and the undead populating the dangerous forests and castles of Gryad Online.
For Attila, things are looking up: the God`s Eye, his latest cheat device, is awaiting its buyer. Now Attila can afford a costly virtual suit for a full immersion online experience. Provided the buyer - a burly half-orc Barbarian nicknamed Beast - sticks to his part of the deal.
But how much does he know about Beast, really? And what evil force is playing with Gryad, disrupting its flow and locking thousands of players inside the game? Who is messing with the world`s gears, summoning the spawn of the Dark from their underground tunnels and lairs?
And how can Attila and his reluctant companions stop evil from tacking over their new world?
Lag:
In online gaming, lag is a noticeable delay between
the action of players and the reaction of the server.
(Wikipedia)
Part One
Danger Looming
Gryad Online:
A massively
multiplayer online role-playing game developed and produced by the RussoVirt
Company, the fifth in the Gryad series (not counting the add-ons). Gryad Online
continues to develop the world already familiar to users through the first
games of the series.
The game is set in a world first introduced in the Gryad:
Swords Vs. Sorcery game. Its events take place twelve years after the First
Storm - a global magical disaster that concluded Gryad IV: Breach of the
Magosphere. Despite the game's audience of over 9 mln with an
increase of 100,000 new players each month, currently only two large areas of Gryad's
enormous world are open to the public: the Dead Canyon and the surrounding area
of adjoining kingdoms of Vardis, Selour, Nideria, Cryte, Zygon and the
downfallen Warp. According to the RussoVirt press center, the company is
planning to unveil more large locations shortly, including its own moon Shard.
At the time of writing this article, more definitive information is still
unavailable.
(Wikipedia)
Chapter One
"Die, you bastard!"
Take that! And
again!
The knight wielded
his heavy two-handed sword with remarkable ease. Attila leapt aside. He could
see the enemy's smug face and the disdainful glare behind his slotted visor.
The knight's sword glowed with magic, his scarlet cloak floating behind his
back, the gold of his armor blinding. Next to him, Attila's gray deerskin
jacket and hunter's pants looked decidedly tacky.
The knight's two
henchmen smirked as they rounded on Attila. They loved their fun: to ambush a
lone ranger on a deserted road and chop him to bits, then watch him die. They
probably felt so tough and bold, and they couldn't have cared less that the
victim's blood looked so believably red as it gushed onto the green grass.
The whole clearing
was studded with small pyramids of bones. Apparently, these three scumbags had
been using it for quite a time. A tiny kitten sat by one of the graves miaowing
weakly, his eyes tearful and forlorn.
Attila dodged a new
blow, then parried the next one with a round shield, apparently too light and
fragile to withstand the blow.
The shield didn't
break, protected by a Poisonous Light spell. Normally, you couldn't cast it on
a shield. But Attila could do many things that an ordinary player couldn't.
The fierce flash
blinded everyone with a brief show of colorful runes - everyone but Attila
who'd covered his face with his shield just in time.
In fact, it was a cartoon character on the computer
screen that shielded his face, obeying the gesture of a hand in a sensory
glove. As for Ivan Attila himself, he was sitting at his desk watching the
fight unfold. He could actually see everything from two perspectives: both
through his char's eyes and via a "God's Eye view" from above, as if
soaring high above the fighters' heads.
Attila had been
testing this cheat for a good three hours already and he was more or less
pleased with the result. Having said that, this "God's Eye" could
guarantee him some big problems with the game overseers. To avoid this, he had
to send the cheat to the customer quickly. Within half an hour, he'd be done.
The God's Eye
dropped lower. Where before a green sea of forest lay and the tiny figures of
fighters appeared in the clearing, Attila could now discern a kneeling knight,
his two blinded henchmen and a ranger towering over them: himself.
Himself in a game,
that is.
He twitched his
fingers ever so slightly, then moved his hand slowly to one side. Attila the
cartoon chopped through the legs of one of his enemies. In a wide sweep of his
sword he decapitated another, then buried the blade in the first one's stomach.
Back to your respawn points, noobs!
Two bodies
collapsed onto the grass. Having received the lion's share of the spell, the
knight kept cussing while his life bar shrank. Initially blue, it was now
orange rapidly moving into red. His henchmen lay there dead as dodos. Color
rapidly drained from their bodies until they dissolved into nothing, leaving
behind two tiny pyramids of bones, a pair of boots, a jacket, a sword, a knife
and a money pouch. Dying in Gryad caused you to lose some of your gear and in
some cases could even strip you of up to 10% xp - and once you're level 20 and
above, each and every xp point costs you dearly.
"You wretched skunk!"
the knight's voice rose to a shriek. Skin was peeling off his face; his empty eye
sockets had turned black, burned by the spell. "I'll find you wherever you
are!"
"Die, you
bastard," Attila repeated the knight's earlier words knowing that the
microphone would carry the phrase to the Dead Canyon where his victim would
hear it, whether the char's owner used a sensory suit, a capsule or the good
old butt in chair, eyes on the screen
method. Having said that, few gamers used it these days.
The life bar
blinked one last time, expiring. The knight collapsed and began to fade. Then
he disappeared, leaving behind another bone pyramid. This one seemed even
bigger than the other two - grander and more respectable, so to say.
Ivan Attila
connected his thumb and index finger into a circle, then moved the gloved hand
slowly. Obeying the signal, the "God's Eye" too turned around and
flew over the forest. Controlling his char with his other hand, Attila made him
lift the sword and the wallet. Where the dematerialized knight had just lain,
Attila discovered another pouch, bigger and fatter than the first one. He could
almost hear the beaten player cuss wherever he was now as he picked the pouch
up.
Ding!
the speakers echoed with the clinking of money. The sound pleased his ear.
According to the number next to the icon, Attila had just become 120 gold
richer. Not bad. That would teach those three idiots a lesson, anyway. What did
they expect for assaulting a peaceful passerby?
He crossed the
clearing and switched the God's Eye to float mode to make sure it always stayed
overhead. Amid the trees stood the conical squat rock of a pagan temple, its
doorway blue with the opening of a portal. Such structures styled as ancient
ruins were in fact the portal terminals that allowed you to log out without
losing contact with the game. Naturally, you could always just quit any time
you wanted, but the Gryad world treated such unauthorized logouts as sudden
death, entailing loss of property and xp points.
Attila's doorbell
rang.
He pressed Esc for
the logout window. Still, he wasn't in a hurry to quit the game now that his
char was under the temple's protection. Who the hell could that be? His aunt
was away; he didn't expect anyone in her absence. They were the only two people
living in her apartment, anyway. Could it be the social care people checking on
him? If so, they could always ask the woman next door for the spare keys. She
always kept them in case of any emergency. Attila had special needs, after all.
Cringing unhappily,
he rolled his wheelchair out into the dark hallway, his hands deftly turning
the wheels. Why couldn't they let him do his work in peace!
The cheat was
practically finished but he wanted to improve the image quality some more.
While static, the objects looked perfectly in focus, but the moment you sent
the God's Eye flying, the player's field of vision narrowed, blurring the
peripheral images. And even though the customer hadn't specified any particular
demands to these parameters, Attila still wanted to look into it. This
particular cheat meant a lot to him. And if the deal fell through...
His heart missed a
beat. He shivered. The lack of money meant trouble. Big trouble. Better not to
think about it.
He wheeled himself
to the front door and peered into the peephole cut in the door at a normal
person's chest height. A young man was waiting on the landing with his back to
the elevator. He wore a green overall and a baseball cap. In his hands he was
holding a large box.
Already? Wow.
Attila's wristwatch announced midday. Talk about prompt delivery.
He swung the door
open and wheeled himself aside, letting the delivery man in.
"RussoVirt
delivery service," the young man began with a professional smile.
"That's right.
It's for me. I've been waiting."
Both fell silent -
then both recognized each other.
"Billystick?
It can't be you, surely!"
"Attila? No
way!" his ex-classmate stopped mid-sentence, taking in the wheelchair. His
initial surprise gave way to embarrassment. He looked aside.
"Right, so
what are you waiting for?" Attila's voice sounded ruder than he'd
intended. "Come in," he turned the wheelchair and rolled it into his
room.
The apartment was
quiet. For the last year and a half, Attila had been living with his aunt, a
flight attendant with some international line or other. She must be now in
mid-air halfway to New York. In her absence, Attila never bothered to turn on
the radio or even the television.
Kostia the
Billystick followed him, inconspicuously studying the tall wheelchair that
Attila kept rolling with both hands.
"I did see
your name on the receipt but the way they wrote it I couldn't be sure,
"Billystick said. "I memorized the address but I didn't put two and
two together. You used to live somewhere else, didn't you?"
Attila entered his
room and swung the chair round to face his friend. "We sold that place. I
live with my aunt now. She's away at the moment."
"I see,"
Kostia wanted to continue, then fell silent. He didn't ask about Attila's
parents.
Silence hung in the
air.
"You've done
well by ordering Sensorica," Kostia finally blurted.
He lay the box onto
the table and prepared to deliver his habitual speech: This suit will make your virtual experiences a breeze! You can use it
to walk the vast expanses of the digital world - and not just walk but run,
leap or even fly! We guarantee the authenticity of your experience.
He was about to
blurt it all out when Attila's grim stare cut his sales pitch short. Kostia
lowered his eyes. "We have an anniversary tomorrow."
"What
anniversary?"
"Don't you
know? RussoVirt is celebrating its ten years in business. I could, if you
wish... I mean... we'll have a buffet and some guided tours. I'll be there too.
I could show you in. The only thing is..."
"Why would I
need to go there? Very well, show me how it works."
Assuming his
professional stance, Kostia gave his practiced smile. "Greetings from the
RussoVirt delivery service! We're happy to-"
"Cut the crap
out. I've already ordered some stuff from your bosses: some gloves and a pair
of goggles. So I've heard all this before. Are you new there?"
"Yeah. This is
my third delivery."
"I see. Open
it, will you? I'd like to take a look."
Kostia reached for
the box. His glance chanced on a few pin-ups of a pretty blonde girl on the
wall by the desk. Reaching inside the box, he produced a large oblique helmet
and handed it to Attila. He looked it over and laid it in his lap. Kostia
reached into the box again and pulled out a modest-looking bag. He looked
around him for a place to safely lay the expensive item. Attila nodded at the
couch.
The bag's zipper
whizzed open. The sensory suit glittered in the sunlight which beamed through
the window.
"Sensorica
Super Suit," Attila was leafing through the fat manual. "Why did they
need to call it like that?"
"Why
not?"
"A suit I
would understand, but why all this fanfare?"
"It's to make
it clear this is the latest thing. New generation technology. A special design
for people with special nee- never mind. Basically, they thought that Super
Suit would sound cool. Now," Kostia once again remembered his job
responsibilities, "Now I'm obliged to read the Agreement out to you. The
RussoVirt Corporation hereby informs its users that it has conducted the tests
necessary to establish the safety of its equipment. Any possible malfunctions
may result from..."
"I know, I
know. Do you really think I didn't read the fine print before buying something
as expensive as this?" Attila rolled his chair away from the couch and
reached into the desk drawer, producing a few bank notes. "Here. You've
done your job. I appreciate it."
Seeing his friend
move around the room in his chair made Kostia feel uneasy. While Attila was
just sitting there, you couldn't tell there was anything wrong with him. He was
just a guy in a chair - never mind the chair looked funny. But the moment he
grabbed hold of those big old wheel rims in order to push himself around, you
could clearly see that his ex-classmate was indeed handicapped for life. His
legs didn't move at all... or did they? When Attila had reached into the desk
for the money, Kostia thought he'd noticed his right knee move ever so
slightly.
Attila stared at
him as if knowing what kind of thoughts Kostia was thinking.
"You..."
Kostia began.
"Are you
trying to guess what could have happened? I can tell you. You remember our old
Nissan, don't you? Mom was driving. Dad was sitting next to her. I was in the
back. We were driving along the railway when this girl in a red SUV shot out
from a side street," Attila pointed at the pin-ups on the wall. "An
enormous thing. I still have nightmares about it. It rammed right into our
car. Mom died on the spot. And Dad... the impact was so strong he was thrown
out of the car onto the tracks. Just when a locomotive was speeding past. It...
it sliced right through him. The SUV was fine. Just a dent in the bumper. Her
father was loaded. It was he who got her all these modeling gigs. So their
lawyer pulled all the strings. She was acquitted. Even though she was DUI at
the time."
As he spoke, his
voice was growing hollow. In the end, Kostia couldn't work out very well what
he was saying. He shifted from foot to foot, not knowing where to look, wishing
the earth could swallow him whole.
"Auntie and I,
we sold my parents' apartment," once again Attila proffered him the money.
"To pay for my studies. But it didn't work, as you can see. I quit college
- but I did get some IT training. I work from home now. Mess around with
different programming stuff. The money is good. Auntie is rarely home. Nobody
hassles me. Come on, take it."
Mechanically Kostia
took the money. "What's this for?"
"For your
delivery."
"But... you
paid by card, didn't you?" Kostia faltered. He still had his pitch to
finish. There were lots of things he was yet to tell Attila; then he had to
help him into the suit and make sure he knew how to connect it.
Crumpling the money
in his hand, he mumbled, "Thank you for choosing Sensorica. Super Suit is
our latest gaming accessory that runs our dedicated OS developed to control our
state-of-the-art softwa-"
"Stop
it," Attila said. "I read it all, I tell you. Thanks, Billystick. Off
you go."
"No, wait. I
still have to tell you about the safety regulations..."
"Don't need
to. Thanks. Just go."
"But..."
"Please
go."
Stooping, Kostia
left the room. He remembered Attila from school when he used to be an athletic
type, active and cheerful. Seeing him now hunched up in his wheelchair... no,
he couldn't.
Attila unlocked the
door, letting him out, then immediately slammed it shut behind his back. Only
in the elevator did Kostia remember that Attila hadn't even signed for the
delivery. Still, going back up was beyond him.
Having got rid of
the delivery guy, Attila hurried back to his computer. He walked his char into
the temple and quit. The chat icon was flashing: someone was trying to get hold
of him. Attila chose not to answer. He virtually never used the game chat these
days. Instead, he'd managed to build Skype into the game. It was true that Gryad
hadn't yet joined Skype's latest array of in-game communications, but things
like this never stopped Attila. He simply hacked the code, connecting Skype
Messenger to Gryad.
He hooked up the
Sensorica helmet to his desktop computer and entered Gryad-online.com to synchronize them. Then he turned his attention
to the suit. He already had everything ready: the special energy drink
cartridges and the "gamers' diapers" used by die-hard Net junkies.
All these suits and
helmets were being hacked and modified at a frightening speed. The moment a new
product hit the market, various shady online dealers would start offering
"new improved" gadgets for it. Attila's case was different, though.
Because he couldn't walk, regular sensory suits were no good for him. Medical
specialists shrugged. It's all in your
head, they'd say to him, your nerve
endings have fully restored and all they need is a bit of practice so get a
grip and get working on it...
Attila was doing
his best and still his legs wouldn't obey him. Even the neuromuscular
stimulation therapy didn't help. So when RussoVirt had released Sensorica
advertising it as the first sensory suit for people with special needs, he
didn't hesitate simply because this device would allow him to walk, even if
only in virtual reality.
Sensorica cost an
arm and a leg. Attila had been forced to turn to loan sharks. By Monday he
would have to pay it all back plus the interest. If he didn't, they would
contact some shady debt collectors, and then...
Never mind. Once he
sent the cheat to the customer, he'd have enough to pay it.
The speakers
twinged, reporting the OS's acceptance of the new devices. Attila switched on a
news channel on the Net and reached for the helmet. Glancing at the screen, he
began tinkering with the energy drink cartridge and the tube, attaching them to
the helmet.
He wasn't going to
be in the game long. Four hours max. He didn't even need the energy drinks, so
after some consideration he decided not to install them. The diapers were good
enough. Four hours were plenty to close the deal and test the suit. He was
hungry, too. He should have had a proper breakfast and not just a cup of tea.
Come to think of it, he hadn't eaten anything last night, either. He'd gotten
too carried away with his work and crashed out without dinner.
The news channel
was showing an interview with Sergei Bagrov - a billionaire and the owner of
RussoVirt. He kept blabbing about the Interplanetary Network and the new opportunities
it offered to humanity, mentioning the company's ten-year anniversary and
inviting everyone to this "celebration of their achievements". In
keeping with the corporation's transparent business policy, he announced an
open house day that would allow everyone to witness the inner workings of
Russia's biggest IT colossus, including their newest project about to be
unveiled for its anniversary.
Soon the
conversation turned to the MnemoSensoric helmet - which, according to Bagrov,
could revolutionize their business by making sensory suits obsolete.
"Thank you for
introducing us to the future - both that of the digital world and humanity as a
whole," the anchorman concluded. "The anniversary presentation is to
be attended by several very important guests: a few of the leading IT
corporation CEOs as well as the communications deputy minister and-"
Attila turned the
program off and restarted the game. He put the helmet on and scrambled out of
his wheelchair onto the couch. Gingerly he began to put on the suit. Threaded
with a fine net of wire, the fabric turned out to be heavy and coarse. The
inside of the helmet's visor glowed with two crystal circles. Once the visor
was lowered, the crystals covered the eyes almost touching them, reacting to
the slightest movement.
He lay down and
adjusted the helmet. Cushioned speakers pressed to his ears. He lowered the
visor. Everything around him went dark. He couldn't hear the street noises any
more, not even the whirr of the computer's cooling fan. He pressed the button
on the outside of the helmet, then lay his arms along his body, trying to relax
and make himself comfortable.
The suit clung to
his skin, squeezing it lightly. Endless white columns of numbers and icons
scrolled through the dark before his eyes: Sensorica's boot-up protocol.
A starry night sky
replaced the darkness. A woman's soft voice said,
"Welcome to
Sensorica's initial tests. My name's Sensy. Now I'm going to name your body
parts and would like you to tense the corresponding muscles. You don't need to
move. All you need to do is strain them ever so slightly so I can recognize
their signals. Are you ready?"
A glowing
inscription appeared amid the stars. The voice read it out loud,
"Right hand
fingers."
Attila twitched
them.
"Too
much!" Sensy signaled. "Repeat. Right hand fingers."
This time he barely
moved them but rather visualized the action.
"Accepted.
Right thumb. Right wrist. Right forearm. Right upper arm..."
As he followed the
commands, the suit hugged the respective body part, squeezing it, then becoming
imperceptible. Soon the starry sky disappeared, replaced by a yellow triangle,
a blue square and a red circle.
"Commencing
visual tests. Please concentrate on the triangle. If it is yellow, concentrate
on the square. Close your left eye. Now close your right eye."
"Commencing
verbal tests. Can you hear the rustle of the trees? If you can, say yes."
"Yes," he
enunciated.
"Say no."
"No."
"What is your
name?"
He paused.
"Attila."
"Please repeat
the following clearly. I, Attila, hereby assert that I have read and
acknowledged the safety regulations for Sensorica users."
He repeated it.
"Monitoring
brain activity. You don't need to do anything. The test is perfectly
safe."
A prickling
sensation rose in the back of his head, gradually moving toward his temples. It
felt as if someone was caressing his scalp with a feather. Attila lay
motionless - or rather, he floated because by then, he didn't sense the couch
under him.
"Congratulations!
You've passed the initial tests."
The starry sky
disappeared, replaced by pitch-black darkness which then filled with large
glowing letters,
RussoVirt Presents
His ears filled
with rousing music.
Sensorica Suit. The New Generation Experience
The inscription
faded. A dark foreboding castle towered on the horizon.
Gryad-online.com
Enter:
YES NO
The customer must
have been waiting for him already. Attila concentrated and willed his eyes to
press YES.
* * *
Once upon a time the
seven greatest wizards decided to unite in order to learn the secret knowledge
that no one in Gryad had ever managed to obtain before them. They thought that
their combined power could penetrate the veil of the unknown, giving them
access to where no mortal before them had dared to tread.
The newly-formed
Conclave needed a secluded place to practice their wizardry. They came to the
kingdom of Warp where King Gideon granted them a small principality located on
a wooded plateau in the mountains. Those lands had been deserted due to the
large amounts of deadly beasts and spooky ghosts that inhabited the ruins and
catacombs scattered through the mountainous woods. An ancient castle made from
slabs of black granite rose in the center of the land. Local people called it
the Forest Citadel. And that's where the Conclave of the Seven Wizards made
their home.
The sorcerers were
assisted by their disciples and served by a multitude of servants sent by King
Gideon. Seven years had they spent in the silent woods, practicing magic and
alchemy. Many a wondrous thing had they made; many a great feat had they accomplished
in the solitude of their citadel. Until one day the Conclave had finally
achieved its secret goal by penetrating the Magosphere: the realm of the dead
and yet unborn souls, filled with magic energy.
Still, the wizards had
bitten more than they could chew. Their power games proved too dangerous, their
exercise in magic way too unpredictable. The Conclave's desperate experiments
gave birth to some truly cruel and bloodthirsty creatures. What was even worse,
was that the wizards used to dispose of all their magic waste by dumping it
into the castle's dilapidated dungeons. All the poisonous elixirs and deadly
artifacts, botched homunculi and leftover zombies began to spread and escape
through the ancient system of tunnels, mine shafts and manmade caves that had
allegedly been built by the Titans who'd created Gryad.
Even the wizards
themselves wouldn't be able to explain the nature of the processes that soon
began to brew under their very feet. As time went by, the dungeons filled with
things truly indescribable, the screams emanating from them wild and desperate.
Magic oozed from under the castle's floor tiles. Some of the servants had been
kidnapped by the dungeon dwellers while others bid a hasty escape.
And still, blinded by
their craving for secret knowledge, the wizards persevered with their work.
They thought in their vanity that the spawn of their experiments wouldn't dare
touch their creators. How wrong they were! Finally the day came when some of
the reluctant inhabitants of this underground Inferno had acquired
consciousness: a perverted intelligence devoid of life.
That day, the mountains
shattered and opened up revealing the depths of hell below. Hordes of monsters
flooded the earth, consuming the whole of central Warp. The times of Peril had
come, as people would later call this deadly era. The land itself would receive
the name of Dead Canyon.
Within days, thousands
fell: peasants and artisans, merchants and barons, women and children, fearless
heroes and helpless old men. The monsters spared no one in their insatiable
hunger and fury. The King's army kept retreating, losing its best knights and
legendary warriors. Only the wizards themselves were still safe in their dark
Citadel which rose above the desolate blood-drenched land.
The King's castle was
taken; good King Gideon died with his Queen and their three children. The new
king, a dreadful Lich, sat on his throne. Soon the infernal hordes would pour
into the neighboring kingdoms; the armies of ghosts and the undead,
necromancers and dragon liches were about to conquer Gryad and subject it to
its rule.
Then the mountains
shattered again. The Conclave of the Seven Wizards opened the great Portal that
unlocked the mysterious Magosphere. Magic burst forth, sweeping everything in
its path. Thousands more died that day. But the spawn of the dark perished,
too. The world was saved.
Many a year has passed
since then. But the mountains are still crawling with infernal creations. In
order to prevent them from spreading, people have cordoned the Dead Canyon off
with pickets and outposts. Frontier guards tirelessly patrol the ravaged
kingdom of Warp. The mountains shudder from new magic storms which distort the
fabric of reality, corrupting the laws of magic given to us by the Gods and the
Titans. These distortions create artifacts of unusual and dangerous power
highly sought after by all alchemists and sorcerers, witches and wizards,
druids and mages who will pay any money to lay their hands on the Dead Canyon's
magic creations.
Humans too seek the
magic artifacts. We call these men Pioneers: fearless vagabonds craving
adventure. Hard is their lot; few of them live to see old age. But not one of
them begrudges his fortune. The expanse of the Dead Canyon, grim and abounding
with mystery, is calling their names.
And in the center of
it, the unattainable Citadel still rises its dreary spires.
* * *
The audio was
played to the accompaniment of impressive visuals packed with magic, murder and
gore. Attila had already seen it when he'd run Gryad the first time. Still, he
decided to revisit it now that his suit was making him part of the unfolding
events. Together with the seven wizards he opened the Great Portal; he followed
them down the terrible dungeons and soared, unseen, over the blood-drenched
battlefields.
Game mode alert!
You can choose one of the two following game modes:
IMITATION MODE
FULL IMMERSION MODE
(More Information)
Warning!
Once the game is running, you won't be able to change
the game mode!
The two game mode
inscriptions blinked, inviting the player to click them. Attila pressed on More Information. A window popped up
informing him that All sensory suit users
had the choice of two basic Gryad game modes. It went on to tell him that
Imitation Mode came with a large number of prompts while preserving all the
usual stat bars and menus; the world's map was visible in the right upper
corner of the player's field of vision. Basically, it preserved all the usual
bells and whistles of a standard computer game.
The Full Immersion
mode, however, had none of the traditional interface. As the Information
writers put it, this mode "switched
the gaming experience to the domain of intuitive logic". The idea was,
the player's very own body began to affect the gameplay. Which was only logical
because of all the tiny reactions of his reflexes, muscle memory and other
psychosomatic stuff.
Had he wanted to
use Imitation, he wouldn't have bought the suit to begin with. No. Only full
immersion. He needed to walk again, otherwise he wouldn't have splurged all his
money on the suit.
Attila clicked on
the second button. It went out.
What's New. | Forums | Support | Workshop | Settings
No, not that.
Options | Profile | Last Modified | The Map
He opened the map
and focused on the Frontier Valley icon to click it.
Once again the back
of his head tingled as if stroked by a feather. The world around him blinked
and came back, slowly revealing the insides of a log cabin. Its narrow door
stood open; behind it he could see a stone landing and the ruins of a castle
wall.
The log cabin was a
portal station. The portal's blue circle glowed in the center of its only room.
A column of spark-speckled blue light reached out of it toward the low roof,
disgorging Attila.
He walked out of
the cabin and took in his bearings. A translucent diamond-shaped blue sign
hovered in the air above the roof, sporting the holographic image of a spiral
topped with a skyward-pointing arrow: the portal icon familiar to every player.
Attila looked up at
the grim skies of the Dead Canyon and rearranged the round shield on his elbow,
then ran his hand along his sheathed sword.
His heart missed a
beat. Disbelieving, Attila took another step. And yet another. His heart
pounded now. He beamed, his face lighting up with a wide, happy smile.
He could walk. He really
could walk!
A special
pre-release discount! Click here to
preorder The Lag (The Game Master Book#1)
on Amazon for only $2.99!
Release date: October 12 2015
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)