Time to unlock your class.
This sounds great to me. So far, in my first few minutes of Vindication Online, I’ve been enslaved, almost ran over by a guy on a horse and nearly had my arm jerked out of its socket with a whip that opened up said limb like a cheese grater.
It’s about damn time I stop running around like a serf.
If there are any more Slave Master units/players — whatever they are — in the area, they don’t show themselves. We make it without issue across the last stretch of open ground and into the shadow of the gigantic domed palace looming above us. The other three don’t hesitate to head for the doors. As soon as they reach them, the big bro wraps his hands around both ornate handles. Corded muscle stands out on his arms and the doors slowly open. Inside is…darkness. I can literally see nothing past the door frame. It looks like I’m stepping into a black hole.
To my surprise, the Latino lady dives in right away. Dreadlocks follows her without even a glance back at me. Luckily, Mr. Defensive Lineman sees the lost expression on my face and pauses before hurtling himself into the void.
“This is your first time in Vindication Online.” It’s a statement, not a question. It’s also the longest sentence he’s said to me since I spawned. I can’t help but notice how educated and refined the dude sounds. People that are that smart and polished usually find ways out of Death Row, no matter how heinous their crimes might have been.
I nod and he continues.
“You’ve probably already ascertained this, but V.O. doesn’t work like other reality games,” he says. “Every time you die, you respawn here, as a slave. Until you fight your way out, your character stays here, generating bitcoin in the mine. The Slave Masters are too strong for any player to escape on their own, so you have to wait for a party to make it out. Plus, there’s the added entertainment of a bunch of unarmed characters trying to scramble their way free of the quarry.”
That’s messed up. I remind myself the game isn’t really about my entertainment. It’s all about keeping things fresh and interesting for people watching the stream.
“Are the Slave Masters other players?” I ask. With no holds barred, I wouldn’t put it past the design team to make V.O. some sick social experiment, like the one I’d learned about in my psychology class back in high school. What was it called? The Stanford Prison Experiment or something. People hadn’t changed much in the last century and a half.
Big Guy shakes his head. “No, but their AI programming is pretty nasty. Better get out of here before those two respawn. They have a long memory, that lasts even after they’re killed. Just step through the door and we’ll be out of here. My name is Keith, by the way.”
He offers a hand and I take it. His palm dwarfs my entire hand and his fingers wrap around mine with room to touch on the other side. Part of me warns that I need to be careful. No matter how well spoken this guy is, who knows what he was sentenced to death for. Then again, what do I really have to lose, aside from being stabbed in the back and used as a bitcoin generator? I push the thought from my mind. If there’s one thing I’ve learned from Vindication Online, it’s that I’m not going to get far alone. And if it takes trusting the vilest people on the earth until I can figure out a way to exact my revenge, well, then that’s what it takes.
“Lynch,” I say, skipping my first name.
Keith’s eyes widen and I wonder if he wonders if I’m that Lynch. He doesn’t ask.
“See you on the other side.”
As soon as he lets go of my hand, he steps into the portal and vanishes just like the two women. For the first time in Vindication Online, I’m all alone. No matter the outcome, I’m glad I spawned when I did. This quarry is hell and I hope I never see it again. After a deep breath, I raise one foot and step forward, wondering as I do how long it took the first players in V.O. to figure out how to escape this way.
Everything goes dark and I lose the sensation of my virtual body. I’m nothing right now, just a bit of ones and zeroes with conscious thought. It’s a sobering feeling and I start to doubt, not for the first time, if I’ll ever be anything but entertainment for the masses in this game.
Then I think of Charity, lying on the floor, unmoving, like a broken porcelain doll. Anger floods through me. If I can remember her, then I’m not done yet.
An instant later a screen appears before me. Well, a golden frame, to be exact. There’s nothing inside of it.
Or is there? From the center of the frame, a small, blue-with glow takes shape and begins to grow.
“Hello,” a pleasant, calm, feminine voice says. “I am Vivienne, your guide through the character creation process and basic gameplay mechanics and instruction. Congratulations on escaping the quarry.”
She doesn’t mention the execution and jump from reality. The irony doesn’t escape me.
As Vivienne — still just a floating blue-white orb — speaks, she moves out of the golden frame and I see me appear, rotating slowly still only clothed in my ragged canvas pants. Which is super weird, because when I wiggle my fingers or crack my neck, the character in front of me does the same. Man, I hope I don’t have to spend the rest of my awareness in third person.
“This is your avatar in Vindication Online,” the orb-lady says. “The design is based on scans from your body in the real world.”
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A little vanity creeps into my mind as I examine my rotating self in the third person. I may have been behind bars for the last three years, but I still look like I could wreck a dude in the ring or the immersion rig. Burpees, pull ups, push ups and lunges — a convict’s best friend. I’d hate to spend eternity looking like a fat piece of shit.
Everything looks just like it reflecting back at me from the execution chamber’s one-way mirrors. My brown hair is shaved close to my head and the same length of stubble covers my face. I scowl and the avatar Jake Lynch scowls back in my direction as he continues to spin slowly. I’m still about six feet tall and piled with lean muscle. Hell, my chest is even shaved like I’m prepping for a fight. But there’s something missing.
“If this is me, where the hell are my tattoos?” I feel myself growing angry. They don’t own me just because I agreed to come into this vindictive game. The irony of my description of Vindication Online doesn’t pass me, either. The three tattoos I had in real life were as much a part of me as anything else. Who made the decision to change how I look? Who had the right?
“Character customization in Vindication Online is part of the leveling up process,” Vivienne says. “Any changes or additions you would like to make beyond how your vanilla avatar appears now must be earned.”
This doesn’t sit well with me. Sounds too much like a bunch of prison “behave yourself and we’ll reward you like an animal” propaganda.
“Fine whatever.”
I can see my avatar scowling even deeper and clenching his fists but there’s no point in going on a rampage right now. As far as I know, I’m still a level one dude with nothing to his name beyond a pair of shitty pants. Vivienne doesn’t seem to really give a damn that I’m upset, anyway.
“Your class is based on a complete assessment of your emotional, psychological, intellectual and physical state at the time of your death,” she continues. I don’t interrupt to ask what the difference between my emotional and psychological state is — right now they’re still pretty pissed, anyway. “Based on these advanced readings, you have been assigned as a beginner melee class, specifically what is known in Vindication Online as Clubman.”
I see my avatar’s face go slack in disbelief.
“A…Clubman?”
How glamorous.
“Yes,” Vivienne the orb says, bobbing up for what is apparently her version of a nod. She either ignores or completely misses my lack of enthusiasm. I’m starting not to like this particular Christmas ornament. “You will also be given a
I watch each item appear on my avatar and am…less than impressed with the end result. Next to the spinning version of Jake Lynch, I see another rectangular box pop up with my stats:
Race: Vikingr (Bonus: +10% Hit Points at each advancement)
Class: Beginner Melee
Hit Points: 44
Melee Attack: 4
Ranged Attack: None
Attack Bonus: None
Armor: 1
Speed: 2
Special Ability: None
Kills: 0
In keeping with another trend, I’m as disappointed in my stats as I am my equipment. And confused. This is like no other game I’ve ever played. In pretty much all the worst ways. Even if this is a starting character, the build is…garbage.
“Where’s my experience points?” I ask Vivienne. “What about my starting skills? Attributes?”
“In Vindication Online, characters level up through kills,” the floating orb explains. “All enemies aside from demi-bosses and bosses award the same amount of experience, that is, one kill. Kills are unique to each player and not shared between party members.”
This keeps getting better and better.
“Is there a guide or something I can look at with all of this information?” I ask. I have a feeling I already know the answer.
Vivienne pulses for a brief moment. “I am happy to provide you with any permissible information you require,” she says in a cheerful tone.
“What the hell does permissible information mean?”
“Any information that is allowed to you based on your current advancement,” Vivienne says. Judging by her voice, she must think she’s been a lot more helpful than she is. “Currently, I can walk you through basic gameplay information.
I sigh and, in front of me, my newly-equipped avatar rubs his temples with one hand. I’m not positive, but I think I might be getting a virtual headache.
“Okay, let’s go through the basics…”
***
When Vivienne finishes giving me the run through, I don’t feel like I’m much better off than when we started. I’ve professionally played dozens of games throughout my career, and I can say without a doubt that Vindication Online is the most frustrating and, based on what I’ve learned so far, probably one of the hardest.
There are only four players to each server, meaning like it or not, I’m stuck with Keith, Dreadlocks and the other lady. I should probably ask their names when I get out of character creation mode. Everyone else is an NPC, but the AI is such that they’ll learn and grow with each interaction we have with them, in spite of NPC units not respawning after they’ve been killed. Some sort of lovely hive mind feature. The overall goal isn’t exactly clear — I mean, I get that I’m trapped in a game for eternity but for it to be entertaining to the real-world viewers, something has to happen, right? The only hint I have is a single objective on another menu that Vivienne shows me, It’s one that I’ve technically already completed:
Escape Lord Sakariss’ slave pit.
My avatar’s teeth grind is frustration when I read this. I guess when your only players are dead prisoners, you don’t worry too much about UI. What am I going to do if I don’t play the game? I’m pretty sure I can still get bored out of my mind even without having a brain anymore. Not to mention that the game mods are bound to have some way of forcing players to participate. I didn’t look too closely at the contract I signed before they strapped me in the chair, but I knew there were several terms and conditions I was expected to live up to. And since I can still feel pain on some level, making a rebellious statement doesn’t seem like such a good idea. At the moment.
And sitting around going mad as a virtual, self-aware consciousness gets me no closer to finding out who killed Charity. No matter how long those odds are.
I have plenty more questions but I’m running out of patience with Vivienne. And the utter darkness broken only by my still spinning avatar and limited menu access is getting old.
“Okay, okay,” I say, cutting the less-than-helpful orb off as she’s describing something about the consequences and intentions of my actions. “I’m good for now. Can you just put me back in the game?”
Vivienne sniffs. I think I’ve somehow offended my Christmas Ornament. “It is really recommended that players go through the entire tutorial dialog before —”
My avatar waves a hand as if he’s warding off an overzealous salesman. “I’ll catch up with you later if I need something. Thanks!”
“Very well,” Vivienne says in the same pouty tone. “Initiating reintroduction. Good luck, Lynch.”
My last thought as everything goes dark once more is that I don’t remember ever telling Vivienne my name.