Max burst through the portal, crashing into a large stack of boxes. The crates acted like a crumple zone, softening the impact, but the noise they made was hard to ignore. Just when he thought it couldn’t get any worse, the flying debris from the boxes toppled several vases off the room’s small balcony, along with any chance of a stealthy entrance. As they shattered on the ground, Max heard a commotion from below. Whoever was down there was wondering why it was suddenly raining porcelain, and it was only a matter of time before they came up here to find out.
He scanned the room for Joe, but there was no sign of the wizard. He was long gone, no doubt racing away until he was out of combat. It wasn’t hard to figure out which way he had gone. Not counting the balcony, there was only one exit from the room, a large wooden door. Max had to give chase before he missed his window of opportunity.
Speaking of windows, the view from the balcony was familiar. Max recognized the skyline. It was the next village over from his shop. It was a small place, not possessed of any strategic or tactical importance. That was good. It meant if Joe had allies here, they wouldn’t be legends, they would be layabouts. The kind of players that performed menial busywork in a desperate attempt to work their way up the Blitzer ranks.
Max was confident he could dispatch anyone he might find on the other side of the door. Unfortunately, that would require leaving this room. They would be waiting for him, thanks to his cacophonous entrance. He stared intently at the door, watching for the slightest twitch while he calmly reloaded his pistol. If someone was trying to ambush him, they were taking their time.
Once he was certain there was no imminent danger he moved over to the balcony. He risked a quick peek and immediately ruled it out as an alternative exit. The room was three floors up. Leprechauns were not known for their agility; even a moderate fall onto a cobbled street had the potential to do considerable damage, and his health was already low.
Max quickly popped a healing potion, bringing himself back up to full HP. He always carried at least a couple with him. It was a force of habit, even if he didn’t actively engage in combat anymore. Unfortunately the same could not be said about ammo. A quick inventory check confirmed that he was not equipped for a prolonged engagement. To make matters worse, players rarely carried musket pistols, so looting ammo from corpses was highly unlikely. He’d have to make every shot count.
There was no time to waste. The wizard could logout any moment. It was now or never.
A flicker of light from the gap at the bottom of the doorway caught his eye. A shadow slowly grew, blocking more and more light, until it settled directly infront of the door.
Max grinned. They had heard the commotion, but instead of rushing in they had taken a moment to coordinate an attack. Perhaps there was someone worth fighting here after all.
He moved to the side as the door burst open. The player that rushed in was clutching knives and wearing a frilly hat. Definitely a rogue. Only a rogue would wear something so ridiculous. Lack of fashion sense wasn’t the only annoying feature. Rogues had high agility, which made them quick. They closed distances in a hurry and were hard to hit with projectiles, which made them particularly effective against ranged fighters, if there was enough space for them to maneuver.
The rogue frantically searched the room for a target. He turned his head just in time to see the barrel of a pistol. It went off before he could move, and he slumped to the ground, deader than his sense of style.
He would be back at a spawn point within moments, but if he wanted to spawn close by, he’d have to wait. The penalty got longer the less time there was between respawns. It helped prevent players from endlessly cycling and dragging out large-scale battles.
That wouldn’t stop others coming. Max knew the area well enough to know the nearest fast travel point was on the far side of the village. He’d have to fight a near-endless wave of foes if Joe called in backup. That was the problem with attacking guilds. If you fought with one Blitzer, you had to be ready to fight all of them.
The question was, would Joe play that card, or try to clean up this mess on his own? Asking Arthur for help was the same as admitting weakness, and that rarely ended well.
“I told you someone was in there!” yelled a voice from the main room. “Dude killed Freddy in one hit.”
“Good,” replied someone else. “Maybe now Freddy will shut up about how leet he is. Bloody rogues.”
That earned a round of chuckles, which was bad. It meant there were multiple players out there.
An unfamiliar voice said, “Want me to raise him?”
“Don’t waste your MP. You might need to raise someone useful.”
Joe’s voice rang out, giving Max a flicker of hope that this plan might still work. “Enough chitchat. Get in there before he can reload.”
There was no hint of movement. Nobody wanted to be the first into a room where they had just watched their colleague being efficiently murdered.
Max darted past the doorway, surveying the room on the other side and quickly prioritizing the targets. It was a much larger room than the one he was trapped in. The space was occupied by five enemy players and a huge stained glass window. With a quick command, Max took a screenshot of his view. He ducked back out of sight as a fireball sailed through the doorway and slammed into the back wall of his cupboard. He pulled up the image in picture mode, keeping an eye on the doorway in case anyone worked up the nerve to attack. He’d gotten the gist of the opposing team with his quick glance, but now he could study the details. Two dwarf berserkers, who were extremely dangerous in CQC, but had no range. Their gear was mid-level, enough to be a problem if he let them get too close. Joe was behind the berserkers, which made tactical sense, as he was primarily a ranged fighter. He was partially crouched over to make sure the dwarves were an effective meat shield.
On the right was an elven archer, because who would pick an elf class and then be anything but an archer? It was hard to tell if the elf was a guy or a girl, but it didn’t really matter. They would die just the same either way.
Last but not least, was the healer. Based on his equipment and the fact that he wasn’t doing a particularly good job of staying in cover he was barely past level 10, which wasn’t unusual. Healers rarely made it to the higher levels in the game. The sheer amount of abuse they received just from their own teammates was enough to turn most of them into berserkers within a few days of playing. That didn’t even touch upon the primary frustration of being a healer.
He heard someone say, “Was that a leprechaun?”
“I think so? It was small and green. Maybe a goblin?”
“Nah, I saw a top hat. You don’t see goblins in top hats.”
“But he had a gun. Do leprechauns use guns?”
Joe cut them off. “Yes, he’s a leprechaun. Yes, he uses pistols. Now isn’t the time for a debate on the thematic merits of a heavily armed and over-dressed gnome. All I’m asking you to do is go in there and kill him. If you can’t manage a simple task like that, I’ll be sure to let Arthur know of your incompetence.”
That at least confirmed that Joe was a senior member of the Blitzer organization. Not just anyone could invoke the old man’s name. Any regular minion foolish enough to try would only live long enough to do it once.
The stampede of footsteps confirmed these goons were at least smart enough to understand the implications of getting on Arthur’s bad side. Max decided he couldn’t stay here. The goons might not pose much of a threat individually, but in this confined space there was a real risk they could swarm him before he could take them all out.
He did the only logical thing. He stepped into the doorway and shot past the charging horde, instantly killing the healer. The damage was enough to kill him several times over, but Max only needed him dead once. He would have preferred to shoot Joe, but it was a waste of ammo if the wizard could be raised by a healer. Max didn’t have the ammo to kill everyone twice. With the healer dead, that wouldn’t be a problem.
That was the main reason healers didn’t last long in the game, because anyone with a shred of experience killed them as a priority. A highly skilled team protected their healer at all costs.
This was not that kind of team.
Max waited a moment longer to make sure that Joe and the elf had lined up their shots. Then he Rainbow Stepped into the room as they peppered the doorway with fireballs and arrows.
The berserkers, both keen to be seen to be doing something, immediately changed their trajectory to intercept Max. That also put them straight into the archer’s line of sight.
“Get out of the way, idiots!” yelled the archer with a thick Brummie accent. It was jarring coming from an elf.
The berserkers ignored the tactical advice provided by their colleague and continued closing the distance. Max only had one pistol, and there wasn’t time to review the levels of his attackers. He aimed at the closest one and fired.
The nearest berserker died from a critical hit headshot, but the other one was still upon him. The dwarf’s axe was bigger than he was. He swung it wildly. Most players instinctively tried to back away from such a fearsome weapon, but Max knew better. He ducked under it, stepping forwards to close the distance. Berserkers did damage using brute force, but it was hard to do that when the opponent was so close. It forced the dwarf to step back, trying to get Max into the arc of his swing. Max didn’t let that happen. He darted forwards and slapped the berserker in the face with his free hand. It caused minimal damage, but that wasn’t the point. Max was trying to elicit a particular response.
An ear-splitting roar suggested he’d been successful. The berserker started swinging wildly, trying to land a hit, but Max rolled backwards, being careful to keep the berserker between him and the archer. The elf was trying to circle around to get the shot, but Max matched the movement, not taking his eye off the immediate threat of the pissed-off dwarf. An arrow slammed into his top hat, the only part not protected by his dwarf-sized shield.
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The berserker was slowing down, each swing a little less enthusiastic. With VR games there were two stamina bars at play: the one in the game, and the one in the real world. The berserker had plenty of stamina left in the game, but not IRL. There was a brief pause as the berserker switched to button controls, which took a lot of variety off the table and made his attacks much easier to predict, and therefore dodge.
Max easily ducked under the berserkers next attack. Before there was another one Max hopped up and punched the dwarf right in the face. That triggered a temporary stun, buying Max a few seconds to reload. Then he stepped around the stunned dwarf and shot the archer. The elf dropped dead, but as soon as Max was exposed, Joe took a shot. The fireball had been charging for a while and was as big as a basketball, streaking through the room and straight for Max. He barely had time to Rainbow Step out of the way, but he used it to accelerate himself full force into the berserker, knocking him back. Max followed up with a lightning-fast one-two punch combo, doing minimal damage, but briefly stunning his opponent again. It was never as effective the second time, but it would be plenty long enough.
The berserker didn’t have much experience fighting leprechauns. No-one did, outside from the annual St. Patrick’s Day brawl. They were extremely annoying to fight, due primarily to their small size. They were a brawler class, best suited to close-quarters combat, particularly because their naturally high luck stat led to a higher chance of stuns. That was considerably more so for Max, but his other stats did not support prolonged fisticuffs. He had assigned no points to strength, as it served no purpose for a gunslinger, which meant he was weaker than a Scots suntan.
As the dwarf yelled about being stunned again Max reloaded his pistol, using the berserker to block any spell attacks from Joe. It was a useful strategy against multiple opponents as the game offered no protection from friendly fire.
Friendly fire was an accurate description when the jet of flames erupted from behind the berserker. The only reason it didn’t cook Max on the spot was because of his berserker taking the brunt of the damage. He was so busy trying to reload that he didn’t see it coming.
He wasn’t the only one. The berserker’s stun had finally worn off, but instead of fighting he turned round, his back still very much on ablaze. He screamed, “What the fuck was that, Joe?”
“Focus you moron!” Joe yelled back at him.
“I’m going to focus alright.” The berserker took a step towards Joe.
He didn’t take another step. Instead he slumped forwards, dead. There was a distinctive ping, like shooting the cap off a bottle. It was the sound of a headshot. It wasn’t graphic or gruesome, but it was aurally pleasing. Max could listen to that sound all day. He fully intended to, until he got the dagger back.
Joe didn’t offer any thanks to Max for saving him from his enraged teammate. Instead, he threw another fireball in Max’s direction, requiring an old-school dodge roll to get out of the way. It exploded when it hit the ground, spreading out flames in an Area of Effect attack.
Max rolled again to avoid the magical fire. He was a sitting duck until he could reload. It would only take a couple of seconds.
Joe had other ideas. He started throwing out fireballs and obscenities in equal numbers. “Hold still and fucking die you little shit!”
There was no sense of strategy or even aiming, he was fully enraged, a human volcano. That made his attacks less predictable and harder to dodge, but it also left gaps which Max took full advantage of. He inched closer to his prey, judging the distance carefully. A few more steps and he would be in range.
One more dodge roll and he was close enough. He activated Rainbow Step, closing the distance and taking a swing. A couple of good punches to the face should be enough to trigger a stun and allow Max to reload and finish the job.
To Joe’s credit, he predicted the attack. The ice wall burst from the ground and Max slammed into it. Joe had bought himself a few more seconds, but that also gave Max the time he needed to reload. The moment he finished the ice wall crumbled and Max rolled to the side as a huge fireball crashed into the spot he’d been standing.
By the time Joe realized Max had moved, it was already too late. He turned to see the leprechaun aiming at him and knew his time was up. In a panic he raced to block the shot, but ice wall was still on cooldown.
A deep-rooted reflex, one honed from thousands of hours of playtime, kicked in. The bubble shield flickered to life just in time to absorb the shot with a loud pop.
Max nodded approvingly. “Not bad. If I remember correctly, that spell is very intensive on the MP when you use it to block a high DPS attack.”
The look on the wizard’s face confirmed what Max already knew. He was all out of MP, and therefore options. That only left bargaining.
Joe spoke, attempting to hide the fear in his voice. “This is your last chance. You can still walk away. I’m a senior member in the Blitzer guild. How do you think my boss will react if you kill me?”
“Knowing Arthur? He’ll punish you for dying.”
Joe paused, his eyes narrowing. “You know Arthur?”
“You could say we go way back.”
“Then why are you doing this? It doesn’t matter what he does to me, think of yourself. He will make an example of you, a lesson to anyone else that messes with his guild. I can make that problem go away. I’ll let Arthur know this is all a big misunderstanding. He listens to me.”
“Does he now? Arthur trusts you?”
“Explicitly.”
“Excellent. In that case, hand over the artifact.”
“What artifact?” Joe said, his voice trembling.
“The tablet you used to track down the artifact in my store. I know you have it. Hand it over.”
“I got rid of it.” Joe didn’t even try to sound convincing. He was purely buying time. There was likely help on the way.
“You know there’s an easy way for me to check if you’re lying, but it involves you being dead. How does that sound?” Max slowly reloaded a pistol, not bothering with the animation skip. He wanted to drag this out. Joe was no threat without MP, and this would be easier if he cooperated. The wizard could try to drink a magic potion to top up his MP, but he’d be dead long before he finished.
Joe’s eyes darted around the room, looking for backup. All he saw were corpses. “I can’t give it to you. If you truly know Arthur, then you know what he’s capable of.”
“I thought you and him were buddies? That he trusted you explicitly. Surely you can explain the situation to him? Tell him I’m happy to trade the tablet for my wife’s dagger, and the thief that took it.”
Joe shook his head. “You’re delusional. Arthur will never let you humiliate his son.”
“His son Greg?” Max hadn’t expected that, to him Gregory was still a little kid. That only went to show how much time had passed. It explained why a crew of high-level Blitzers were tolerating the antics of a smart-arse kid.
“Yes. Gregory was the thief.” The corner of Joe’s mouth twitched up. “You thought it was just some random guild member? Now this all makes sense. You figured you could negotiate with Arthur, teach a kid a lesson, and be on your way? It’s not going to happen. Give up now, while you can still walk away.”
“You don’t know your boss as well as you think you do. He will negotiate if the price is right. You tell Arthur that it’s Daisy’s Dagger. He’ll know what that means. I’m not going anywhere until I have it back. If he doesn’t want to trade, I’ll come and get it.” Max raised the pistol.
Joe yelled, “Wait!”
“For what?”
With a flick of his wrist, Joe unleashed a fireball in Max’s direction. He’d kept Max talking long enough for a sliver of his MP to recharge. The projectile was low level, barely the size of a cricket ball, but Max dodged out of pure instinct. He rolled to the side and came up in a crouch, ready to fire, just as Joe threw himself through the stained glass window.
There was a long silence before the thud. To his credit, he didn’t scream on the way down. That was for VR noobs.
Max raced to the window and peered down. The wizard’s body lay slumped on the ground below, splayed out from the impact. There was no blood. Joe’s agility stat must have been as low as Max’s for the fall to kill him. There was no chance of surviving without MP to conjure his way out of trouble. He’d suicided himself to buy a few more seconds, but why?
Max immediately got his answer. From this vantage point he could see across the village, and the marauding band of Blitzers were easy to spot. They were closing in on his location fast. He had 30 seconds, maybe less.
He ran, jumping down the stairs as fast as his little legs could carry him, reloading on the way. It was going to be close. Without the Tablet, this would all be for nothing. If the Blitzers caught him, he’d be forced into a fight he wasn’t prepared for. He was low on ammo, health potions, and patience. All it would take was a couple of lucky hits from the Blitzers and Max would lose the Tablet and his own personal artifact.
He burst out of the door at the bottom of the safe house. He could hear the approaching horde, their yells and cries of bloodlust. They were coming for him, propelled forwards by the consequences of failure.
Max bent down next to Joe’s body and found what he was looking for. His suspicions had been correct, it was an artifact. They always dropped upon death, to make it harder to hold on to them. He picked it up and received the confirmation message on his HUD.
Congratulations, you received Tablet (Artifact)
He looted Joe’s body, hoping there would be something he could use, preferably a health potion.
Congratulations, you received a Fire Potion (common)
He groaned. It was of minimal tactical use, but if he survived long enough to sell it, he could buy something useful.
A yell made him glance over his shoulder. The Blitzers were here, and they were ready for a scrap. He Rainbow Stepped away as the arrows rained down, followed by various spells and bombs. A rogue leapt from a nearby rooftop, his dagger held high above his head, ready to bring a swift end to the chase. Max shot him out of the air like a clay pigeon. The dead rogue crashed to the ground, tripping up his companions.
Max whistled, hoping that it would work. The thundering of hooves brought a sense of relief, until he noticed there were two distinct sounds.
Dale rounded the corner, with a pure white mustang hot on its tail. The mustang would typically run circles around the Clydesdale, but it was loaded up with a knight wearing heavy metal armour, complete with lance. The poor white horse was doing its best to haul all that extra weight around, but it was having a major impact on the top speed.
Dale had no such problem. He charged at Max, accelerating away from the knight. Fireballs exploded around him, but Dale didn’t spook. He’d seen his fair share of action.
Max reached up and pulled himself up onto the horse, using the same trick as before, but instead of the usual riding stance, he span around to face backwards. The tip of the knight’s lance was perilously close. One stumble and Max would be a kebab. He trusted Dale to do the driving. His attention needed to be elsewhere.
He calmly reloaded, making sure he didn’t mess up the timing for the animation cancel. The click let him know the weapon was now loaded. He didn’t waste any time. He fired.
The shot left a hefty dent in the knight’s helmet, but didn’t kill him. For a moment it seemed as if the impact might knock him clean off his mount, but he kept his grip on the reins. The armour was thicker than Max had expected, or this guy had the DEF of a tank. Knights were tricky, they had more versatility than some of the other classes and could specialize in attack or defence depending on the user’s preferred play style. That made them harder to anticipate.
The knight didn’t wait for another attack. He spurred on the mustang and darted forwards, almost skewering Max with the lance. Only a last-minute swerve from Dale saved Max, almost throwing him out of the saddle. He clung on and pulled himself upright. He wouldn’t be so lucky the next time.
Max reloaded his pistol again, warily watching his opponent. The knight adjusted in his saddle, getting ready to charge again. Max was out of time, but now wasn’t the time to panic. If he missed the frame for the reload glitch he’d be dead before he could fire again.
The pistol clicked just as the knight surged forwards. Max waited for the perfect shot, testing his nerve as the lance raced towards his chest, but then the rise and fall of both horses synced for just a moment.
Max fired. The shot didn’t hit the knight’s helmet this time, it went straight through the narrow-slitted visor. The effect was instant. The knight backflipped off the horse and crashed into a vendor’s stall, just as Dale skidded to a halt. Max glanced over his shoulder and saw the horse and cart that was blocking the street. A few more seconds and he’d have been toast.
He span in the saddle and gently steered his mount around the obstacle. He patted Dale on the neck, his haptic gloves sending a tingle through the palm of his hand. “Next time, jump, don’t stop.”
Dale never listened to him, but he wasn’t supposed to. This breed was known for its stubborn nature, which was precisely why Max had chosen it.
A quick scan confirmed there were no other immediate threats, but that didn’t mean it was safe to stick around. This was his last known location. The village would be swarming with Blitzers in no time at all, and they would all be coming through the village’s only fast travel point. That meant a quick exit was out of the question.
He pointed Dale out of the village and gave him a swift kick. What he needed was some distance. That would give him time to consider his options.
This was already far messier than it was supposed to be. What had started as a simple exchange was now considerably more complicated. Arthur would trade just about anything for an artifact. The question was, would he trade his son?
Max smiled. The truth was, he just might.