Once more, Peter woke in a stone box. It was nice, Jacob had laid him out a soft cushioned blanket under him and stuck a glow stone to the roof. It’s the little things that let you know your friends care, Peter thought to himself before pulling the velvet rope to let Jacob know he was done cooking.
Jacob’s incredibly, stunningly, ugly face appeared in the gap as the lid slid aside. Even as many times as Peter had seen it he barely managed to suppress a flinch at the sight but did succeed. “Jacob! Long time no dying!” Peter levered himself out of the sarcophagus and stepped down to the floor. “How’s work treating you?”
“Ever popular, this place,” Jacob replied. “People are dying to get in.”
Rather than head up through the temple and all the rigmarole that goes with it, Peter opted to take the short cut up the nearby ramp and out through the cemetery. He chatted with Jacob as they went, exchanging pleasantries and trading jokes. Jacob was a font of Dad Jokes, much like Peter’s grandfather had been, and they got on well.
Waiting just outside the massive wrought iron gates that allowed entrance to the cemetery was a small crowd of people. Peter had expected Pham, Dani and Warren, but there were a few locals there chatting as well. The mayor of Averton and Peter’s favourite barmaid as well as the man-mountain from the local smithy. They made for a strangely diverse group, but Peter was glad they were all his friends.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Peter apologised. “I was spending a night dead, for tax reasons.”
“SQUEAK!” A soft furry body leapt from Warren’s shoulder to latch onto Peter’s face. DB immediately started licking every inch of exposed skin and pawing through Peter’s hair. When the rodent had satisfied himself that Peter was ok, he clambered around and tucked himself in Peter’s hood. Soon little ratty snores could be heard from the dark recesses.
“Ow,” Peter winced slightly. “He’s getting way too big for that.”
“You need to feed him less and give him more exercise then,” Dani said, idly flipping a dagger end-for-end and catching it by the tip each time.
“Yeah, I didn’t want to say anything,” Pham added, “but that rat is getting fat. Have you tried teaching him karate?”
“Now that you mention it, I have,” Peter held up a finger. “Turns out he’s more of a tracker. I’m thinking of getting him a little set of goggles and maybe a waistcoat to put tools in. What do you think?”
“I think you need to die less, Peter,” said the mayor in his usual declaratory voice. Peter sometimes wondered if the man knew how to speak quieter than a shout. “You’re a good lad, but Travellers famously take a hit to their attributes every time they die. I’ve been the mayor of this town for many years and seen a great number of newly minted Travellers pass through my gate. None have ever ended up as pale as you, except young Pham here and he at least has an excuse. Not to mention that mechanical marvel you’re sporting instead of an arm there.”
“At least those wings are coming in,” the waitress inserted kindly. “I remember when I first saw you, those cute little things could barely flap. Now they’re almost down to your knees. You might be able to fly soon if you keep training.”
Peter often forgot he even had wings until they got in the way. His real-world body had no equivalent of course and he was still learning how to move them. He remembered the fight in the dungeon, where he’d managed to use them to glide down from one level to another. Glide might be overselling it a bit, he admitted to himself. They managed to slow my fall enough to avoid a respawn at best. “Thank you, I’ll keep working on them.”
The mayor and the waitress proffered their goodbyes and went about their day while Peter and his friends discussed their plans.
“That bloody scythe is OP as hayell,” Pham complained. “How much XP did you get from that one shot?”
Peter shrugged. “Not that much. I only killed one mob, I just managed to piss off a whole lot more in the process. I managed to pick up another hourglass before I took a dirt nap too, so I think there’s a high chance of getting them on crits. Sneak attacks and snipes will be a good way to harvest them for the house.”
“Is that what you want to do today?” Warren rumbled through his helmet. He was in full plate today, with a helmet that wouldn’t have looked out of place on the battlefields of ancient Europe. His breastplate in particualr drew the eye, a thick, clockwork filled monstrosity that Peter had seen before. Warren was able to eject two child-sized clockwork golems from the back to assist him in battle. “Because I have better things to do than traipse through the tulips kicking bunnies.”
“Well, what’s your idea?” Pham eyed Warren suspiciously. “Don’t tell me you want to… No. Nononono. Noooooooo. Nope. Uh-uh. You know what happened there last time.”
“Last time it was just the two of us,” Warren said. “And we were on a time frame. This time we have Peter and Dani, if they’re willing, so we’d be better set up to fight and clear the traps. Worst case, we sent Peter in and pick him up after he respawns. There’s even a town nearby where he can bind his spawn point to.”
“Ugh, fine. We can’t spend the rest of eternity in Averton. How do we get there though? Peter doesn’t have a mount and I’m not dinking him.”
“Where do you want to go to?” Dani asked. “After taking down pretty boy last week we’re pretty flush with cash for now. I’m sure Peter could afford a portal service-”
“No magic!” Pham interjected.
“- or the steam bus,” Dani finished. “Steam bus it is. It’s a bit slower but until Peter buys himself a horse it’s the best non-magical transport around. Safe, reliable and leaving in ten minutes.”
“How do you know it’s leaving in ten minutes?” Peter looked around in confusion. “Can you see it from here?”
“The clock just struck midday. Didn’t you hear it?”
“Oh.”
It was only a short walk from the cemetery to the outskirts of town, it took longer for Dani to harangue the driver for attempting to charge a whole gold coin for what turned out to be a three silver ride. The companions piled into the back seat, as all the cool kids do, and soon they were off, chugging down the road that had taken them an hour to walk the day before.
“Hey, uh, why didn’t we catch the bus yesterday?” Peter asked as he looked out over very familiar fields.
“Did you see the bus go past us yesterday?” countered Pham. Before Peter could respond, he continued. “No, because it only runs once a day and it had left long before we were ready.”
“Woah, what’s got your pants in a knot?”
“This thing is so sloooooowww. Honestly man, get a mount already. Or I’ll make you one. Whatever.” Pham threw his feet up on the seat in front in irritation. “Most people get one in the first month.”
“I’ve only been playing for just over a week.”
“Well.. get some time up, noob.”
Warren punched Pham in the shoulder. “We’ll be there soon. I know you think this thing is slow, but it’s much faster than walking. Log out if you want, or read a book. Remember when you first started playing and had to walk everywhere? Before they removed the autowalk feature? You’d pick a direction, stick your nose in a book and read until you ran into something.”
“I-”
“Including that lake that one time.”
“Shut up, why are you picking on me?”
“I’ll give you three guesses and the first two don’t count.”
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
Pham just ignored him and pulled out a book. Dani went to sleep on the window, despite the pane vibrating with every thump of the steam engine. Warren also pulled out a book, but this one looked to be a school textbook and Peter had no intention of wasting a night’s fun on learning. He opened the window and leaned out, enjoying the smells and sights of the passing countryside. He marvelled anew at the realism in the game and pondered how much computing power it must take to simulate it. He pulled DB out of his hood and held the rodent out in the breeze for him to enjoy the trip as well.
DB sniffed and looked around, his little ratty eyes wide in amazement. “Squeak?”
“Sure is, bud. We’re out of Averton. We’re going on an adventure!”
DB washed his face with his paws and sneezed. “Squeeeak?”
“Of course! Heck, it’s been a bit for me too. Sorry I forgot in the excitement.” Peter pulled a small tea cake out of his inventory. He broke bits off and gave them to DB, occasionally eating morsels himself. Being half out the window as they were, any crumbs fell to the ground and were whisked away. “This is the life, isn’t it?”
“Squeak!”
He was so distracted that he nearly fell out of the window when the bus lurched to a stop. “Stand and deliver!” A voice echoed around the glade where they’d pulled up.
Bodies boiled out of the surrounding trees to surround the bus, weapons pointed at the occupants. Peter could hear the driver throw himself in the dust and beg for his life. He hauled himself back in the window and scrambled down the aisle, surprised to find himself following Warren.
Warren’s armoured feet slammed into the dirt beside the door with a resounding crash. “Chadwell, ye bastard, I know it’s you! Show yer sael!”
A second, similarly armoured figure rounded the front of the bus, slowly clapping in the most sarcastic manner. “Oh Woz, fancy meeting you here.”
“Is this what my guild is reduced to under your leadership? Mere banditry?” Warren stormed up into the other Traveller’s personal space. “I built sommat great and you have them robbin’ coaches?”
“Look around you,” Chadwell gestured expansively, taking in the whole glade. “Does this look like mere banditry to you? We’re here to take everything, including your lives.”
“Come on Chad, this isn’t you,” Warren said quietly. “What’s going on?”
“Cuz, I need this. We’ve had some losses recently and the team needs a W. We’re not actually going to kill everyone,” Chad whispered back. He continued much louder. “Lay down your weapons and step away from the bus. If you comply now, we might let you live.”
The windows of the bus blew out in an explosion of glass. YOUR SOUL IS MINE! Peter intoned, clawing through the roof in full Paragon regalia. He shook his wings clear of the ruined wood and stepped onto the remains of the hood, the dark metal of his sabatons shining in the dappled sunlight. He was holding his scythe in one hand and pointing at Chad with the other.
Warren stepped in front of his cousin and turned to face Peter. “Hold, Peter. This can be resolved without blood. Let me speak to him, he’s my cousin.”
BE QUICK, MY PATIENCE MAY BE INFINITE BUT YOUR LIFE IS NOT. Peter knelt on the hood, denting the metal cowling.
“As you can see, there’s no win for you here. I suggest you pack up and leave before you find out what a respawn is like for the first time ever,” Warren hissed over his shoulder.
“What are you talking about?” Chad laughed. “We have an army.”
“We have a Paragon.”
There’s no way anyone could tell Chad had gone pale inside his armour. He was covered head to foot in metal. Yet, something in the way he held himself changed and Peter was sure the guy had just soiled himself a little. Peter himself was revelling in the Paragon state. The icy numbness had once scared him but was now an old friend. He knew he was going to pay for it once the encounter was over but for now he was the strongest entity in the area. While Warren and his cousin debated the pros and cons of getting an entire guild sent to their bind point the short way, Peter let his mind drift to the scythe. In this state he was a perfect version of the Paragon of Death. As close to the Avatar as any player character could get, thus so was his equipment. He laid the weapon across his knee and twisted the grip to swap it to the alt-fire mode. He felt a little zap of static electricity and a tooltip popped in his vision.
Paragon State Active. Configuration set until deactivated or death.
Well, that’s new, he thought. I guess I’ve never tried changing my equipment in this mode before. I guess I don’t need a ranged weapon at the moment anyway. He stood, stepping down off the bonnet of the bus, the springs decompressing with a screech. HAVE YOU MADE YOUR CHOICE? DO YOU LIVE THIS DAY, OR DO YOU DESIRE THE FINAL SLEEP?
“We have come to an understanding, Peter. You can stand down, and maybe help Pham and Dani out of the bus you wrecked?”
“Right boys, pack it up! We’re going hunting. The guy who told us there was a shipment on this bus lied to us! Let’s go make him pay!” Chad made a circling motion in the air over his head. His men faded back into the trees as though they'd never been there.
Peter relaxed, feeling the power drain away and then some. He fell to his knees beside the cowering driver and dragged in huge ragged breaths. "That is almost not worth it," he gasped. "Almost. You alright there?”
The driver peeked over the arms he’d crossed in front of his face. “We’re alive? How?”
Peter flopped onto his back and continued trying to get his breath back. “Warren here knows how to threaten someone. I’m sorry about your bus.”
The driver got up and dusted himself off shakily. As he surveyed the damage to the vehicle he drew in a sharp breath as though to say something but thought better and blew it out in a long sigh. “Well, I’m alive and it’s repairable. The company won’t be happy, but they’d be less happy if they had to send out a search party and drag back the wreck. Thank you.”
With Warren’s help, the driver extricated Pham and Dani from the seats where they’d been pinned when Peter hulked out. They were quite unhappy about the situation and vocal about it, but settled down when the driver agreed to refund their fare in return for saving his life. Pham even helped him get the engine running again.
The remainder of the drive was a lot more windy than the first part had been. Pham complained bitterly every time the breeze caught the page he was reading and flipped it, blaming Peter for the destruction of the roof.
“It’s not busted,” Peter retorted, “it’s a convertible now. People pay a lot for that sort of thing.”
The driver muttered something under his breath about Travellers breaking everything, but kept driving.
Soon the forest gave way to green rolling hills, then to rocky cliffs beside a body of grey, wind tossed water. “We’re nearly at Cliffton. I’ll be stopping outside the city to drop you off and heading straight to the depot. Please check your seat area for anything you might have forgotten. I’d ask you to check the overhead racks as well, but there aren’t any left. Thank you for travelling with SteamCo busses. Enjoy your stay in Cliffton.”
Cliffton the city was a marvel of civil engineering. It probably couldn’t exist in the real world. The buildings were carved into the face of the cliff so rather than spreading horizontally it ran vertically. The manor houses of the rich reached skywards above the city wall, banners waving and snapping in the wind. As the party walked through the gate they found themselves on a parapet that ran the width of the city and looked out over the water. Every hundred meters or so a gondola station interrupted the wall where wide cable cars entered and left from the bottom regularly. People of every imaginable race were transiting the stations as they went about their business uninterrupted. The manors appeared to have their own private elevators and when Peter leaned over the wall he could see the shafts extending all the way down to private docks at water level. The cliff wasn’t perfectly vertical but there was enough overhang that every level down was shaded by the one above. The buildings that recieved the most sun looked to be better decoated and, Peter assumed, owned by the more affluent members of society. The further down the cliff he could see the less impressive the decorations on even the outermost buildings so there was a clear social stratification based on elevation and access. Right down on the waterline wooden docks reached out into the choppy waters and the furthest reaches of those rose and fell with the waves, leading him to believe they were on pontoons instead of affixed to the bedrock.
“First things first,” Warren pointed to a grand building in the very centre of the top level where they stood. “Spawn point.”
The church was orders of magnitude bigger than the one in Averton. Its pristine white marble towers scraped the sky and massive stained glass windows depicted actual epic events. People were wandering in and out much more regularly, and amongst them were clearly Travellers who had respawned recently. These pale looking figures were usually surrounded by a supportive group of friends and made up only a tiny fraction of the crowd.
“You’re going to be a bit less out of place here, I think,” Pham elbowed Peter in the ribs. “But I’d still get a frequent visitor card if I were you. Ten stamps and you get a free coffee.”
Peter side-eyed his friend, unsure if Pham was joking or not. On one hand, Pham’s a dick sometimes. On the other, free coffee maybe? He opened his mouth to ask but Dani cut him off.
“No. No coffee. Come on,” she headed inside with everyone else trailing behind.
Everyone strode straight up to the font that dominated the room and shoved their hands into the water. They read aloud the inscription on the rim to bind their spawn point and were immediately dazzled as the pool lit up like a flashbang. Peter had been expecting it and had his eyes closed and was only mildly blinded, whereas the everyone else in the vicinity was left blinking, groping about and tripping over. Heh, payback’s a bitch.
Peter rounded up his friends before the effect had faded and guided them to a nearby door and used his special key to access Bani’s house. He deposited Warren on the couch and Dani and Pham on the armchairs and sat at the writing desk until they could see clearly again.
“So, we’re here and have our bind point set. What’s next? I know you were whispering to your cousin for a while there Woz.” Peter asked while the rest rubbed their eyes and blinked to clear the spots.
“Good news and bad news,” Warren rumbled. “Good news, we’re still going to the same dungeon. Nothing’s changed there. Bad news, especially for Pham, we’re back on the clock. Same deal as last time.”
“I hate you so much right now,” Pham whined. “I’m going to do a Peter on this one, aren’t I?”