Chapter 23. Psycho Killer

The moment I logged in, Henry invited me to a group. “Stay put,” Henry said. “We’ll come to you.”

Janica appeared next to me.

“Where do you go when I leave?” I asked.

“I hang out with my friends and family,” she said. “Then I get to sleep. I’m a great sleeper.”

My party arrived moments later. All except Ilrune, who had returned home. Each of them had leveled up. Henry was a level two Researcher, Cassandra was a level three Rogue, and Rowan was a level three Musician. The Job system in this game was interesting, but it was difficult to tell, sometimes, how advanced a character really was. Rowan, I guessed, was an overall level seven or level eight. The last time I saw her, she was a level four Squire. It was impossible to know, without asking her, how many levels she got as a Squire before she switched to the Musician Job.

“Looks like you all have been busy,” I said, looking at their nameplates.

“I got level five as a Squire and unlocked the Thief Job,” Cassandra said, excited. “Then, I got 30 Expertise in Daggers and unlocked the Rogue Job.”

“Oh nice,” I said. “Why did you pick the Rogue Job instead of Thief?”

“Stat-wise, they’re identical,” she said. “But the Rogue Job has this amazing passive that grants me 10% critical strike chance and 5% accuracy when attacking a target from behind. So I’m going for that first.”

I raised my eyebrows. That was awesome.

“What about you?” I looked at Rowan.

“I figured it couldn’t hurt to get some stat growth from the Musician Job,” she shrugged. “My Squire Skills take a lot of stamina to use, and I wanted more stamina regeneration. I might buy the Rhythm passive as well, but I wanted to talk to you about that first. Also, if Rhythm or Tempo stack, we both might want to use them.”

I assume she wanted to talk to me about it because she thought we’d be in a long-term adventuring group. I didn’t know what to say to that. I wanted to complete this quest, but then I didn’t know what I would do. Most likely, try to start Leatherworking and Skinning for cash. I had this idea of not only making the rent, but moving to a bigger apartment where Sofia and I could both have pods and play Integration Online together. I had never been able to buy anything for my sister. The thought of handing over the first month’s rent for a bigger apartment, higher up in our building, put a smile on my face.

“You need bigger muscles and more speed if you’re going to be a melee fighter,” Janica said. “Plus some better weapons and armor.”

“Do you have any ideas for my development?” Rowan asked Janica. “I’m sort of lost.”

“When you picture yourself in combat, what do you see?”

Rowan thought about it for a moment. A smile grew over her face. She laughed a little.

“What?” Janica said.

“I used to play this game where I would roll through dozens of enemies, switching weapons as I went. I whirled spears, slashed with two-handed swords, swept axes, pounded mobs with hammers, and bashed with shields. I switched to the best weapon, depending on the situation. But with lots of movement, spins, jumps, and defensive cooldowns.”

As Rowan talked, Janica pulled out her two-handed mace and danced through the air, battling imaginary monsters, flipping this way and that. The warrior in her couldn’t resist. “Yes!” Janica exclaimed. “I can get behind this. A Weapons Master.”

“Is that a Job?” Rowan asked.

“Yes,” Janica said. “A very advanced Job, but I think we can start building it for you. To make it really sing, we’re going to need some difficult-to-find passives and movement skills. But the nuts and bolts of it can be trained through weapon skill. Every fifty levels you advance a weapon Expertise, your body will learn new ways to use the weapon. Fifty points in maces, for example…” she held up her giant hammer, “and you’ll be able to slam a weapon into the ground, stunning all enemies within two yards for one second. It requires stamina to do, but it’s not a Skill that’s casted, which means it doesn’t have a cooldown and you can do it in sequence with other moves.”

A smile grew on Rowan’s face. “Is there any way to speed up my Weapon Expertise training?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Janica replied. “You train with me.”

Rowan smiled again. “Okay, what do you think I should start with? All I have is this one-handed axe, shield, and training sword.”

“Warren,” Janica called. “Can Rowan borrow your staff for a while? You’re clearly not using it much with all that back-line sissy combat you’ve been doing.”

“Sure,” I said, ignoring Janica’s comment. I threw my staff to Rowan.

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“Staves and Spears are both considered Spears as far as Expertise points are concerned,” Janica said. “At level fifty in Spear Expertise, you’ll learn both an offensive and a defensive movement.”

“What about the axe and shield?” Rowan asked. “I’m already thirty-one Expertise in shields and twenty-eight in axes.”

“Hmm, good point,” Janica said. “We should work on those too.”

“Sorry to interrupt,” I said. “But don’t we need to get moving? It’s already 10:30 a.m. Doesn’t the dungeon seed go through River Junction at noon?”

“Yes,” Henry said. “We need to get moving.”

River Junction was the closest town to Central City in the Western Zone. It was far enough removed that it wasn’t a suburb, but you couldn’t travel West from Central City without going through it. Unless you wanted to travel through farmland. We had no idea where they wanted to plant the seed, but we knew where it would be at noon. After that, who knew. They may take the road Northwest toward Lakemore or the road Southwest toward Deerpoint.

Upon entering River Junction, Henry left our group to do a couple of vital errands. The rest of us headed to a clothier’s shop. We used most of the Silver that we had looted from the harpies to acquire outfits that made us look like minstrels. We purchased face paint and ridiculous hats. I groaned, parting with 15 Silver. But there didn’t seem to be a better option. When I stepped out of the dressing room in tights, poofy shorts, poofy sleeves, and a floppy hat, Rowan squealed with delight. She and Cassandra clapped for me, excitedly, while working themselves into a fit of uncontrollable giggling. That made me feel great. After Henry arrived, he dressed the same, oblivious to their ridicule. How Rowan and Cassandra got away with wearing dresses, I had no idea.

Janica pulled a dress over her head and immediately pulled it back off. “Absolutely not,” she said.

Henry insisted. “We need to look the part,” he said. “Plus, when we remove the costumes, nobody will recognize us as the musical group that was playing at the heart of a major heist.”

After that, Cassandra and Rowan wrestled Janica into her dress.

We covered our faces in makeup—gold stars, flowers, and such—and put on extravagant hats.

“Why does any of this matter?” I asked Henry. “We have nameplates. Won’t everyone be able to recognize us by our labels?”

“Not everyone,” Henry said. “Most of the locals can’t see nameplates. Only Visitors.” Our group had taken to saying “locals” instead of “NPCs” out of respect for Janica.

“That can’t be true,” I said, looking at Janica.

“I can,” Janica said. “But I’m a guide. Henry’s right.”

We parked ourselves near the largest intersection of River Junction. Here, the road that headed West from Central City met the road that ran south from the docks. We set plates down for tips, tuned our instruments, and began.

Rowan had identified a set list. I wasn’t worried about following along. My Musician Job and years of experience made up for that. I may not be able to play every song perfectly, but I would be fine. I didn’t love the set list, but it made more sense to play what Rowan and Cassandra knew than to argue for what I loved.

Rowan kicked it off with “Garden Grove" by Sublime, which led into "Psycho Killer" by the Talking Heads and "Why Don’t You Get a Job" by The Offspring. People somehow ignored us, for the most part. Though how one can ignore a group of fancy-dressed minstrels playing ’90s alternative and punk in a fantasy-themed game, I had no idea. Despite the terrible stage clothes and questionable songs, I was having an absolute blast. Loud music, people cheering, two groupies singing every word from across the street, some level seven Squire banging his long hair to the beat. This was the dream.

I glanced at the clock. 11:58 a.m. My rock-star-induced energy drained. In moments, the real show would commence. The heist. And I would be pulled deeper into this drama. There wouldn’t be any walking away from this. Somebody in this world would care that we had robbed them of a magical artifact.

At 12:03 p.m., four armed guards in white uniforms and heavy armor led two men and a woman that I could only describe as “geared” up the road from Central City. A procession of sorts. Not with trumpets and roses, but still out of the ordinary in River Junction. They wore advanced armor sets, helmets, epaulets, and weapons. Their gear shined in the sunlight. All seven of them were on horseback. They walked slowly through town, coming toward us.

“Warren, chill!” Rowan whispered to me harshly, motioning to my instrument.

“What?” I said.

I had been drumming my fingers on my instrument. An involuntary movement. A response to my anxiety. It sounded like the start to a fight scene. Something you might hear in a movie when things were about to get real. In doing so, I had changed the entire vibe of the area from fun to tense.

The procession slowed, now looking at us. “No,” I thought. “No, no, no.” Usually, my involuntary drumming wasn’t a problem. With a drum in my hands that amplified my sound, I had exposed us.

Cassandra played a riff, the opening bassline from “Can’t Stop” by Red Hot Chili Peppers.

People whooped. The dude with the long hair started banging his head again, hair flying all about.

The armored group relaxed and continued their march. Thank. God.

As Cassandra continued on her bass, Henry passed out coffee beans to each of us and watched as we chewed them up. This served first as a backup plan, to keep us from putting ourselves to sleep. The coffee beans also served as a speed boost. The 10% haste would help us run faster. When the guards were twenty yards away, Rowan motioned to Cassandra who transitioned into the opening of the sleep song. Rowan joined in next. Then we all followed, even Janica and Henry. Our small but devoted crowd was confused by the musical choice. The guy with the long hair looked downright confused that we had stopped rocking his world.

The people closest to us started to look woozy first. And the effect spread like a ripple. Eyelids drooped. Heads sagged. Bodies lost their posture. A knee hit the ground. A hand for support. A body leaned against a building. A horse laid on its side. The scene was one of the strangest I’d ever seen. Like I was inside the movie “Sleeping Beauty” the moment when the fairies put the whole town to sleep. Ilrune was right. This was a powerful spell. The group of Armed guards weren’t immune to its magic. They slowed, then crashed to the ground along with their horses. By the time we had finished our song, every person and animal within earshot slept, fitfully. The guards and guardians of the Dungeon Seed lay on the ground, snoring.