Neither of them knew what to expect when they saw what was behind the door. Would it shine like the suitcase in Pulp Fiction, be a treasure trove like the dragon horde in the Hobbit, or just a dull room with a chest like in a video game? It turned out to be none of the above. This wasn't just a room to store loot; it was the headquarters for Travis's faction. What faction? The one he was going to set up in his HQ, of course.
The most striking thing in the room was the laptop computer in the middle of a desk. It was a regular Earth laptop, nothing fancy, but shocking nonetheless. Now that they looked, this entire room had electricity. There was a light in the roof and a switch on the wall. Also, it was cooler than the rest of the building.
They both stood in shock for a few seconds before making their way to the laptop. It said, "Welcome. If you are the Main Character Travis Porter, please press 'Y'; if not, press 'N'."
Travis pressed 'y', but it repeated itself.
"It's probably case-sensitive," Clyde suggested.
Travis tried again; this time it went through.
"This room is your base Headquarters. Here you will create your faction, set its member list and parameters, and also make decisions about your new base. You will choose what prize you want when there is a choice. Since you completed your first mission 'Quests are for Gamers', you may also use this hub as a help desk. You and your faction's PCs can upgrade their journals here as well as their infinite bags. That name is catchy; too bad former PC Anna will not be joining us. Unfortunately, the bags are not infinite, but you will find out more regarding that and other things when you are ready. First, are you ready to name your faction? Press 'Y' for yes; if not, press 'N'."
Travis and Clyde had been exchanging looks the entire time, each surprising revelation adding to their amazement. The most shocking of all was that the bags were now called ‘infinite bags,’ and the system knew about Anna. How could it possibly know that?
Clyde understood that Travis was pretty flabbergasted. He also knew the death of Anna had hit him pretty hard. Nothing extreme, but for someone as composed as he was, it showed.
“Honestly, though, Travis, we just opened up a door that was obviously placed here within the past few days. Is anything that happens really that surprising, man?” Clyde asked in a comforting tone.
“I guess not, huh? Shit, this is not what I expected in the least. A fucking computer. I wonder if it will have the internet,” Travis mused.
He kept talking, “What should we name our faction?”
Clyde thought for a moment, “Your faction, Travis.” Travis looked at him, as if to say, ‘Come on, don’t give me that,’ but Clyde held up a hand. “I’m cool acting like we are equals, because you are cool with it, and frankly, it’s more fun.” He chuckled, “But you are the MP, Trav; you have to set it up to reflect that.”
Travis thought about it for a bit and finally sighed, “Okay, fine.”
He turned to the computer and typed in “Y.”
"What is your faction name? This cannot be changed, choose wisely."
Travis typed in "Joint Task Force," and pressed enter.
"Your faction name is the Joint Task Force, is that correct?"
“Y.”
"Thank you. You are the leader of this faction; what is your title?"
Without hesitation, Travis typed in "Major," and pressed enter.
"Major Travis Porter. Who else is in your faction? There is '1' other player character in proximity. That '1' player character is Clyde Sanderson. Is he in your faction?"
“Y.”
"You can set further faction rankings and titles at your convenience. Major Porter, your journal is due for a level up; would you like to proceed?"
“Y.”
"Place your journal in the chest to upgrade it. At level 2, your journal can be used to communicate with other members of your party and faction."
He did as he was told. He went on the find out that in order to have comms with a party or faction member, you must have you your journal open to the party section. To have a "live" exchange both members must have them out. If this is not the case you can still leave a message, similar to an old earth email.
"Do you have any questions?" the system asked.
Travis: "How do you get your journal to rank up?"
PC: "Every 5th level take a visit to the HQ to place it in the chest, and that will rank up your journal."
Clyde had been watching this entire time in rapt fascination. The wheels were turning in his mind as well. “This leads to many questions. Ask it if the HQ can be moved,” he suggested.
Travis wasn't sure where he was going, but he asked anyway.
Travis: "Can the HQ be moved to another location?"
PC: "There is a process in which you can transport your base's location, HQ included, but there are many criteria that must be met and time must pass before it's even an option."
Travis looked at Clyde, “Why, what are you thinking?”
“I think this may be a sort of capture the flag thing, well, in a way at least. I'm trying to think what to ask it to find out. Ask it what happens if someone not in the…,” he trailed off. “Wait, can I ask it?” Clyde said.
“Yeah, fine by me, as long as the system is cool with it,” Travis answered.
Clyde went over to the laptop. It was a laptop, but he tried to adjust it and saw it was stuck in place.
Clyde: "What happens if an opposing force occupies the HQ room?"
PC: "The Headquarters is a room in this base as well as all others. It is redundant to call it an 'HQ room.' To answer your question, though, if a non-faction member comes into this HQ or any other and types 'CAPTURE,' a timer will appear on the screen for 5 minutes. If a faction member does not counter this command with 'DEFEND,' then it transfers to the faction of the member who typed the command. If that person is not currently in a faction, they can create one on their new HQ command center."
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For not the first time and probably not the last, they looked at each other, both contemplating the implications.
“This is just like capture the flag, holy shit. This brings me back to my Army training days. There were only 3 safe zones to pick from though; I wonder if there will be new spots added after the cataclysm ends. Shit, that reminds me,” Travis finished and went back to the laptop.
Travis: "Can you give us an update on how things are going on the planet, in relation to the cataclysm?"
It took longer to answer this time. Finally, it replied.
PC: "The cataclysm as an event has concluded, but areas of Earth are still under the threat of disasters. There are designated safe zones for players to find and occupy."
Travis: "Okay, but what areas of the US are safe zones?"
PC: "See your journal."
Travis: "Do you have a death toll from the cataclysm?"
It did have that number, to within a few souls of being exact.
PC: "That information is not available. Please browse other areas of this system and check back later."
“I figured it was a long shot,” Travis said disappointedly.
"Let's find out what's in the chest, then we have to figure some things out," he added.
They hadn't even looked at the chest yet since the computer was such an anomaly. The desk was straight ahead once you entered the door, and the chest was to the left of the desk.
They walked over to it. Travis tried to open it, but nothing happened. He looked at the PC.
PC: Please enter a password that you will use to open your loot chest.
"Do you want me to leave the room?" Clyde asked.
Travis just looked at him and chose a password. He showed Clyde as he typed it, "Remember that, don't write it down or even speak it. It might be paranoid, but this thing knows too much. Who's to say someone else's laptop won't get the information."
After he typed it in, the chest clicked, like the door had. Travis opened it up. It was empty.
Travis sighed and went back to the console. He searched until he saw an icon that looked like a loot chest. After some navigating, he was at a screen where he could choose what he wanted to appear in the chest.
It showed the missions he had completed that had prizes. It also displayed lists of different items and materials that came with the base: weapons, armor, tools, furniture, plus more. It looked like some of it might have a price, which led to something he and Clyde had discussed but still had no answer for.
What would be the currency of this world? he was going to ask, but Clyde told him to focus on the prizes first. He said he had a strange feeling that something was going to break the calm, whether it was good or bad, he couldn't tell.
Travis clicked on "Base Building for the Win." He heard a sound in the chest. Clyde opened it and found 3 rolled-up scrolls, similar to the ones they had received, and also 3 bottles of potions. The bottles looked like science class beakers with cork stoppers. The scrolls had more of a medieval feel, they were on a thick paper and rolled up. This was like a trip to Medieval Times on LSD.
The bottles were XP potions, but were they XP boosts or did they award XP?
He looked at the description on the console.
- XP Potion: This item provides you with a boost of experience points towards leveling up. It must be taken 15 minutes prior to working and will last for 2 hours. It can be upgraded on an alchemy table.
- Minion Scroll (Tier 2): This is a tier 2 scroll it will summon a tier 2 entity to serve at the base it is summoned at. Scroll can only be used on or near a base controlled by the faction of the player using it. The entity summoned will serve in whatever capacity the summoner requires for as long as the summoner is at the base or until it is killed or the summoner is killed
- You also received a weapon or a piece of armor.
"Which choices would you like to see?"
Travis clicked on weapons.
"Your choice of a primary weapon includes Rapier, Longsword, Falchion, Mace, or Battle Axe. All weapons come with a corresponding Tier 2 skill book. Armor pieces include a tactical combat helmet (makes psionic attacks ineffective), Tactical Belt capable of holding potions and scrolls, and Tactical Vest with Steel Plates."
This list raised a lot of questions for Travis. He had his trusty Beretta, but how long would he be able to get ammunition? He had picked up some on the road to Columbus, but only 2 boxes. It would eventually run out. Did he really have to learn how to use a sword, or a mace for God's sake? He supposed that in a world where firearms no longer worked, having hand-to-hand weapon skills would be the next best thing. Clyde had mentioned skill books on the ride up here. Clyde asked him if he remembered when Neo from the Matrix learned Kung-Fu instantaneously, then said that was how skill books worked.
Whether or not the skilled learned would suffer from a lack of practical experience was unknown, but just knowing the basics would still be a huge boon. It would be like learning a foreign language from a text book. You would have the knowledge to speak but would still struggle when conversating with a fluent native speaker.
They peppered the the computers AI with questions for another hour or so, procrastinating a little due to not knowing what weapon or armor to choose.
Travis was still lost in thought when he was jolted by worry, as if something unexpected was about to happen. Not five seconds later, he heard, "Hellooo, is anybody there?" in a nervous voice.
He and Clyde closed the door to the HQ and moved towards the dock, Travis holding his gun and Clyde with his blade.
As they moved out slowly, two men and a woman propped themselves up onto the loading dock and started to move towards them. Travis pointed his gun at them and said, “Easy there, what's going on here?”
He could see that they looked winded and disheveled. None of them appeared to be player characters, but one had an ax, the type used for chopping down trees. They all had duffel bags, not infinite bags, just regular duffel bags.
The man with the ax spoke first, “We are being chased by these creatures. We already lost two people from our group, and we need help." The man paused when he realized what Travis was holding, "Wait, does that gun work?”
Before Travis could say anything, the woman said in a pleading voice, “Please help us; they will be here soon.”
The woman appeared to be in her 20s, of average height and heavy set, though not obese. The man with the ax looked to be in his 50s and was graying but appeared to be in good shape. The last one in the group was also in his 20s but had a few injuries and was in the worst shape.
Travis had to get a read on these people in an instant in order to make the right decision. Either they were telling the truth, were here to deceive them in some way, and this was all a lie, or some variation.
He had made these types of calls many times while stationed in the Middle East. The young male had a makeshift bandage around his arm that was stained with dried blood and dirt. It fell down whenever he moved his arm, and the guy had to keep fixing it. He looked for context clues, but nothing spoke of deceit.
The older guy looked like the leader, perhaps the father of one or both of them. You could tell he was exhausted but also appeared willing to fight to protect the group. She was pleading while he was making the same kind of judgment call that Travis was making now.
“Okay, move back that way; there is no entrance so you will be safe. Can you fight, sir?” Travis asked the older man.
“Yes, I have no skill, but neither do those damn creatures. I'm Gary, and this is my daughter Kasey and her boyfriend Thomas.”
“I'm Travis, and that's Clyde. Go over there; we will see what's going on,” he told them as he pointed the two younger ones to the back offices. "What kind of creatures are they?"
Before they could answer they started to hear a noise of some kind. Travis told Clyde to go close and lock the side door and all the windows. They didn't need any monsters infiltrating their base on the first day.
Gary started to talk when an arrow came shooting in, just missing him.
“I was about to say they shoot arrows.” Gary told Travis.
He looked out but couldn't tell what they were. They were about 3 feet tall and had reptilian features. Most of them had small swords of different kinds, but others had bows and arrows.
Travis took the safety off his weapon and took cover.
Clyde came running back and nodded at Travis.
He turned to the father, "Gary, stay here and cover us. Also, make sure none of them get into the building. Have you killed any yet?"
"A few that got close. They seem to be cowards; they won't charge unless they have numbers or you aren't looking. They got my brother that way and his wife," Gary said with gritted teeth. He didn't look sad; he looked pissed off.
That stung Travis, all this senseless killing, and for what. That thought came and went in less then a second.
"Use your thermal vision to see how many are in the woods," Travis told Clyde.
With his finger on his temple Clyde squinted out in the woods. He said the move helped him concentrate. About 20 seconds later, he answered, "There look to be about 25. More seem to be coming."
Travis thought for a second. If they didn't have the archers, he would go out and just attack them. If these creatures coordinated their attacks, then Travis and his group might be in trouble. Facing an organized force of melee mixed with ranged units when outnumbered was trouble for sure. Since they only had three people to their 25, it was an even more pressing concern.
"I need to draw out the archers. Could you tell how many had bows, Gary?" he asked.
Gary just shook his head.
"Okay, Clyde, I am going to start firing to draw them out. Go and get the riot shield and baton," Travis told Clyde.