Campaign (Blades VR Book 2)

  Blades VR

  Book 2 Campaign

  Terry Schott

  Prologue

  Twenty years ago...

  The young man stared at the twenty-sided die lying on the table, mouth dry, pulse hammering in his ears.

  A voice spoke from across the table. “Jeremy?”

  He shook his head.

  “Hey.” The same voice. Jaxon’s.

  Jeremy licked his lips and looked toward the kid sitting at the head of the long table. “I want a re-roll.”

  The Lore Master’s head peeked above the folded cardboard screens, each adorned with a mixture of charts, tables, and fantasy artwork. “I bet you do,” he laughed.

  Jeremy glanced at the twenty-sided die again. The number 1 pointed skyward like a venomous snake.“Can I?”

  “If you wish it. Do you have a charge left on your ring of wishes that I don’t know about?”

  Jeremy shook his head and Jaxon groaned beside him. “We all know he doesn’t. He used the final charge during the last campaign to fix his broken plus-three sword.”

  “That sword was more than a plus-three,” Jeremy heard the anger in his voice. He’d been defending that decision to the group for the past two weeks. “It was also enchanted with aqua lung. And it’s a good thing I did fix it, or we all would have drowned earlier today.”

  Jaxon snorted. “I think Chris just put that into the campaign to stop us from bugging you about wasting your wish.”

  “Who’s Chris?” the Lore Master frowned. “We address each other by character name, here.”

  “Sorry,” Jaxon mumbled.

  “You are forgiven.” He smiled and shook his head at Jeremy. “No wishes left. Sorry pal.”

  “Is there no other way to re-roll?”

  A hush settled over the table, and Mohgran, the party warrior, cleared his throat from across the table. “You want to break the first rule?”

  “No.” When the group had formed more than three years ago, they decided to play the most realistic version of Blades of Verchinor possible. Each of them had played with other groups before this one, and all hated the fact that average players bent the rules when it suited them, especially when faced with character death. They had agreed that the worst possible cheat was allowing a re-roll of the dice simply because someone did not like the outcome.

  “Of course not.” Jeremy shook his head and repeated what had become the group’s mantra: “You roll crap, you get crap.”

  “That’s right.” The Lore Master nodded.

  Jeremy looked down at his character sheet, skimmed the stats, and swept over the items in his inventory, his eyes finally coming to rest on the number 3 written over the head of the cartoon-style character drawing. “I was hoping this character would make it to at least level five.”

  “It’s still possible.” Jaxon pushed two dice—one pink, the other blue, both ten-sided—toward Jeremy. “Roll well and save him.”

  Jeremy scooped the dice into one hand and shook his hand, rattling them together. Everyone stood to watch the outcome. “What do I need to roll?”

  “Who knows?” Kianna, the only girl at the table, smiled. “Realistically, the repercussions from fumbling a weapon are random, which the dice roll takes into account. Any number could be either good or bad.”

  “I’ve got the chart ready.” The Lore Master waved a sheet of paper over the screen before lowering it out of sight. “Throw the dice.”

  “Good luck.” Almiel, the wizard of the group, stood beside Kianna.

  Jeremy shook the dice a few more times and then released them. They hit the tabletop and clattered loudly, jumping and twitching as they rolled. After a second, they stopped moving.

  “Which one is first?” Almiel asked.

  “Blue,” Kianna whispered. “Blue is always first.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” Jeremy read the dice. “Both are eight.”

  “Eighty-eight, then.” The Lore Master looked down at his sheet. No one spoke. He frowned and then looked up with a slight shake of his head.

  As one, the group moaned.

  Jeremy grimaced. “How bad is it?”

  “Couldn’t get any worse. Critical hit, self.”

  Mohgran swore and hit the palm of one hand against his fist. Almiel and Kianna both sank into their seats. Jeremy rubbed one eye and sighed.

  Jaxon retrieved the dice and set them in front of his friend. “One more throw. It’s not that bad. I had a self crit last week and my character lived, remember?”

  Jeremy laughed. Jaxon’s character had accidentally cut off two fingers, permanently reducing his dexterity by three points, which was bad for a thief like Jaxon. Aleron pursed his lips, deciding that it would do no good to point out those missing dexterity points had led to a failed lock pick attempt, which started the fight their characters were currently in the middle of. He shook the dice.

  “Wait!” Lohgran shouted.

  Jeremy frowned. “What?”

  “Use different dice.” He held up two more d10s; one a smoky colour and the other gold. “Change your luck, maybe.”

  He considered the offer but shook his head. “No. These dice owe me a good roll, and now’s their chance to deliver.” He rattled the dice and tossed them, smiling when they stopped rolling. Both read zero.

  Almiel stood up and cheered. “Yes!”

  Jeremy gave a hoot and pumped one fist in the air. “100. ’Bout time!” He looked at the Lore Master and saw that the other boy’s expression was grim. “Come on. You gotta be kidding me.”

  “’Fraid not.”

  “It’s tough to role a perfect 100.”

  “You’re not wearing your helmet in this fight, right?”

  “I had to leave it behind in order to carry more essential supplies for the adventure.”

  “Sorry, man.”

  “I’m dead?”

  “Decapitation. You swung your sword at the enemy, missed, and took your own head clean off at the shoulders.”

  Jeremy plopped down onto the chair and rested his head in both hands. The rest of the group was silent. After a moment, he started to laugh. It grew from a chuckle to a full-fledged roar. A few seconds after that, the others started to laugh, too.

  Jaxon nudged him in the ribs. “Not good to die, but it is kind of a funny death.”

  Jeremy nodded, picturing in his mind the image of his poor character’s final swing.

  1

  I sit across from him and take a moment to look at the surroundings. If you hadn’t heard of this man before, you’d know he was wealthy as soon as you entered this house. We are in his study, which is bigger than my apartment. It’s filled with furniture that easily cost more than my yearly income. He smiles as I begin the interview.

  Jeremy Granger, thank you so much for agreeing to this.

  My pleasure, Breanne.

  I’m sorry to sound like a fan girl with this first question, but I am one, so please bear with me.

  That’s kind of you to say. By all means, ask away.

  Kindness has nothing to do with it. You are the man when it comes to video games.

  I wouldn’t say that—

  Because you’re too modest. Which, by the way, is part of your charm. Don’t bother denying it. Anyway, my first question. How cool is it to be the biggest name in the gaming world right now?

  Oh now, I don’t think that’s true.

  Your online magazine, Hero Loots, is the best and, for many, the only resource for all things gaming. In an age where everything is downloaded free and no one is willing to pay for one bit of digital information, you have somehow managed to get billions of reader—

  It’s only millions, Breanne.

  Hundreds of millions?—Jeremy nods a
nd looks at the ground with a sheepish grin as I laugh—to pay for a monthly subscription in order to get up-to-the-minute news, reviews, and other information about games both new and old.

  We are very fortunate to have implemented a pay model that works. He looks up at me, the grin gone from his face, but still lingering in his eyes. But you’re mistaken. I’m not famous. Hero Loots is.

  So modest. Can we talk about the new virtual reality offering coming from ARC Gaming?

  If what they are claiming is accurate, then it’s the only virtual reality offering.

  That’s right. You don’t consider the other VR games to be authentic, do you?

  How can I? Virtual reality is more than strapping a monitor to your face. Sure, the experience is thrilling and fresh when done that way. It allows game designers to incorporate a 360-degree experience, but so far no one has been able to take us out of this reality and fully immerse us into another.

  FIVR gaming?

  That’s right. He smiles. Someone has coined the term “Fully Immersed Virtual Reality” to describe what I’m talking about. What all gamers truly want to experience. Much different from the goggle games that people are confusing for true VR, in my opinion.

  FIVR. I like the sound of that.

  Me, too.

  And do you think ARC Gaming has done it? Created a FIVR game with Blades VR?

  I truly hope so. All reports seem to indicate they have.

  You must be certain as well, right? You’re an investor in the project?

  Jeremy smiles and spreads his hands. There’s only one reason that I’m an investor. Because I wanted to get in on their beta-testing offer.

  Two million dollars for a chance to play the beta. That’s a pretty hefty price tag, don’t you think?

  Not really. It takes tens of millions of dollars to create a regular video game. Building a FIVR game has to cost a lot more than that.

  And if it doesn’t deliver on its promise? Will you still be glad that you invested?

  Of course. I am an advocate of gaming. Video games have given me a good life. I think it only fair to give back.

  Can you take me into Blades VR with you?

  He pauses as if seriously considering it, then shakes his head. Sorry, Breanne. As much as I would like to...

  That’s okay, Jeremy. I know we can all count on you to give the game a good run and report back to us with honesty and integrity.

  Hero Loots always reports fairly and without bias.

  Print interview: Online Everything, with Breanne Reynolds

  Kara glanced at her phone and frowned. It rang twice more before she answered. “Hi, Isaac.”

  “Heya.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Why do you think something’s wrong?”

  “Can’t remember the last time you called me when things were good.”

  “Kara. Nothing’s wrong. I haven’t heard from you in a bit and thought I should call.”

  She pursed her lips. “You’re lonely.”

  There was a pause. “Aren’t you?”

  She closed her eyes. “Yes, but I’m also busy. And I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  “What isn’t?”

  “Dating again.”

  “That’s not what I want—”

  “Good.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Come on, Isaac, you know I’m right.”

  “Yeah...”

  “Work is what matters right now, remember?” She heard him sigh. “Blades VR is more important than us.”

  “Is that what it sounded like when I said it, Kare? If it was, then I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be cold.”

  “That is about how it sounded, but I’m not trying to throw the words back in your face.” Well, maybe I am a little bit, she thought. “Time has passed, and I realize that you were right to end things between us.”

  He said nothing.

  “I do have a bit of good news.”

  “Related to Blades?”

  “Mhmm. I think we might have a way to watch players while they’re inside the game.”

  There was a long pause. Kara smiled as she pictured Isaac’s expression.

  “Did one of our people come up with it?”

  “No. A guy that works over at Hero Loots.”

  Isaac laughed. “I can’t get over that company.”

  “No one can.”

  “They do it all, don’t they?”

  “Seems like.”

  “I’m surprised they didn’t release a true VR game first.”

  “You mean FIVR. We’ve secured the trademark on that term, so let’s make sure we use it. I wouldn’t expect Jeremy to attempt making a FIVR game. They don’t want the headache. Besides, he will somehow end up making millions from our efforts without having to navigate the countless challenges we are facing. The man is a wizard.”

  “In real life, although he prefers to play a warrior when gaming.”

  “Maybe it’s a nice break for him,” she guessed.

  “Likely. The man creates real-life magic; it makes sense he would opt for the more direct hack-and-slash approach in a fantasy world.”

  “He’s still inside Blades VR, right?”

  “Yeah, and I don’t expect him to be an early exit. He knows how to play games. When can I meet this guy from Hero Loots?”

  “I’ve got him scheduled to meet with you tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Can you make it the morning instead? This is a priority.”

  “Sure thing, boss.”

  2

  Ezref stopped walking and pointed a finger. “There it is.”

  Sebastian frowned. “The Chessboard?”

  “That’s right.”

  He stroked his chin, still marvelling at how real the whiskers of his goatee felt. “I don’t see it.”

  “You will when we get closer. Come on. I see them waiting for us along the right wall.”

  Sebastian shrugged to adjust the pack slung across his back and followed. They waded through the thick, knee-high grass. Behind them was forest. In front, a grass-covered field surrounded on three sides by tall, rocky cliffs over fifty feet high. As they got closer, Sebastian could make out the individual members of the party leaning against the far wall. “Should I be seeing it yet?”

  “Soon.” Ezref laughed. “Pay attention as we walk.”

  The grassy clearing was littered with flat, jagged, square pieces of stone—some white and others black—scattered as if a large hand had dropped them from the sky without caring how they landed. Sebastian began to realize that the stones did resemble a giant chessboard of sorts.

  There was a popping sound at the stone closest to them. He turned in time to see a skeleton materialize from thin air and drop a few inches to stand on the white stone, its feet clacking as they made contact. It was a tiny skeleton about waist-high to Sebastian’s six-foot frame. “Whoah.”

  Ezref half-turned and smiled as he followed Sebastian’s gaze. “A new mob spawning.”

  “It’s not very big.”

  “That one’s a pawn. It’s the easiest of the chess pieces.” He pointed to the right. “Some are bigger and tougher. That one over there is a knight.”

  Sebastian followed the line of Ezref’s finger. The knight skeleton was a foot or so taller than the pawn. It stood on a black stone and held a wooden club adorned with metal studs on its end.

  They joined the group, and Sebastian let his pack slide to the ground. He smiled at the female Death Stryker. “Mercy.”

  “Sebastian.” She leaned against the cliff wall, one leg propped against the stone, arms crossed. “Do you need to rest for a bit, or shall we begin?”

  Sebastian greeted the other members of the team with nods and smiles. The two elves sat together, Shale, the ranger, checking her arrows and the rogue, Aleron, sharpening his blade. The young Death Stryker, Xander, leaned against the wall a few feet away from Mercy. Sebastian looked toward the Chessboard. “Ready to get started.”

  “Good.” Me
rcy pushed away from the wall and moved to stand in the middle of the group. “The ranger will pull. You need to decide who will tank.”

  “I thought you would be our tank.” Sebastian frowned.

  “That would be a waste of time for everyone.”

  “Why?”

  Mercy closed her eyes and shook her head. “I’d forgotten how stupid newbies can be.”

  Sebastian laughed. “I told you that this group has no experience and that I would ask a lot of questions. I will do my best not to ask the same thing more than twice.”

  “Fair enough.” Mercy scratched her head. “Every kill awards experience to those who participate. The total experience is divided evenly.” She nodded toward the Chessboard. “But XP is awarded only if the mob yields experience to the highest-levelled member involved. I would get none for those, which in turn would mean the rest of the group would get nothing.”

  The ranger raised her hand and waved it. Mercy blinked, her eyes sliding to meet those of the elven girl.

  “Hiya,” the elf said. “Name’s Shale.”

  “I don’t care.”

  She giggled. “Okay. Well, I was wondering if we can call it XP?”

  “Call what XP?”

  “Experience.”

  “You may call it whatever you like.”

  Shale grinned at the other elf and held a thumb up. “Thanks.”

  Sebastian sat. “Sorry, everyone. I guess I messed up by assuming Mercy would tank.”

  “If you want to get experience—” she paused and looked at Shale, “XP?” Shale nodded. “Then all I can do is advise.”

  “No problem. Xander can tank instead.”

  Mercy frowned. “That would be a waste of talent. Death Strykers are valuable to a group for their damage per second—”

  “DPS!” Shale blurted.

  Mercy blinked, her expression blank. “That’s right.”

  “The only one wearing any sort of metal armour is Xander,” Sebastian said. “I and Ezref wear cloth robes, Shale and Aleron wear leather...” He paused. Mercy said nothing. “Well. I guess we don’t have a tank. Suggestions on how to proceed, anyone?”

  “There are groups that do fine without having a tank,” Aleron said.

  “Experienced groups,” Ezref muttered.