Shattered Lands: A LitRPG Series Page 4

  He reached out and touched the shirt in front of him.

  Incredible – he could actually feel the cloth beneath his fingertips, exactly like he would if he were touching it in real life!

  “Whoa,” Daniel murmured in amazement.

  “There are over a dozen types of each article of clothing, which can be accessed by swiping in the air to the left or the right. Colors may be chosen separately.”

  He swiped to the right, and all five shirts rotated at once, like they were hanging on an invisible circular track. The rightmost two disappeared, and two new entirely new styles appeared from the left.

  He chose a loose-fitting linen shirt. Immediately all the shirts to the left and right were replaced with copies, identical in every way except for color: red, blue, black, white, yellow.

  He swiped to the left, and more shirts appeared – green, purple, orange – as others disappeared into the white nothingness.

  “Once you choose a color, you can adjust the brightness by dragging up the shirt to increase the intensity, or dragging down to make the color dimmer. Say ‘finished’ when you are ready to make your final selection.”

  He tried it, running his hands up and down the cloth. It was like a color slider on a graphics program – dark olive faded to a light mint color within seconds.

  He spent a few minutes looking, then made his linen shirt blue, his pants brown, and his boots black. As soon as he said “Finished,” the items disappeared and appeared on his own body in place of the jumpsuit.

  Freaky.

  Several other pieces of clothing appeared – cloaks, hats, and gloves – but Daniel said “Finished” without choosing any of them. All the items vanished.

  “Excellent. Before you enter the game, some information is necessary. You will be required to respond to each item with ‘yes’ or ‘no,’ or follow directed prompts given to you, before you are allowed to continue. Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” Daniel replied.

  “This game enables time compression by directly affecting the portion of your brain that senses the passage of time . For every hour that passes in the real world – which we call Real World Time – approximately four hours passes in the Shattered Lands, which we call Game Time. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.”

  “All preferences and game functions may be accessed from the Game Menu by either making a counter-clockwise circular motion with either hand, or saying ‘Game Menu’ aloud. Please perform the counter-clockwise circular motion now to practice.”

  Daniel made a counter-clockwise motion with his hand.

  Immediately a translucent, light green menu of text options appeared about two feet in front of him. The options included ‘Log Out,’ ‘Account Settings,’ ‘Character Settings,’ ‘Sensory Settings,’ ‘Pain Threshold,’ ‘Violence Settings,’ ‘Messages,’ and ‘Close Menu.’

  “Players may adjust their Pain Thresholds at any point. In order to provide realistic game play and establish repercussions for actions, pain cannot be totally eliminated. However, it can be minimized.

  “Also, since you are 18, Parental Filters have been disabled. You may access ‘Violence Settings’ if you wish to decrease the amount of blood and disturbing imagery in the game.”

  He figured he’d leave them where they were, just to see what happened.

  “You may position the menu anywhere you like in your field of vision by moving the menu with your hand. Please do this now.”

  Daniel touched the menu and dragged it through the air to his left so that he could still see it with a slight movement of his eyes, but so that it wouldn’t interfere with his direct line of vision.

  “You may choose any item on the menu by touching it with your finger, or saying the option aloud.

  “As long as you know another player’s Real World name or player handle, you can send them a text message. This ability can be accessed through the ‘Message’ option, where you can also read messages from other players.

  “You may close the menu at any time by saying ‘Close Menu’ or selecting the text option. Please do either now.”

  “Close menu,” Daniel said, and the translucent text disappeared from sight.

  “Character stats and inventory items may be accessed by making a clockwise circular motion with your hand or saying ‘Stats’ or ‘Inventory.’ Please make the clockwise motion with your hand now.”

  Daniel did as he was asked. More translucent text popped up in the same place as the Game Menu.

  At the top was ‘Stats’ following by the following words:

  Level: 1

  Race: Human

  Gender: Male

  Health: 100/100

  Mana: 50/50

  Hit Points: 100/100

  Health Regeneration: 0.1 every 1 sec

  Hit Point Regeneration: 0.25 pt every 1 sec

  Mana Regeneration: 0.25 pt every 1 sec

  Strength: 10

  Intelligence: 10

  Dexterity: 10

  Endurance: 10

  Willpower: 10

  Hunger: 0/100

  Sleepiness: 0/100

  Skills: None yet

  Under all the statistics was the word ‘Inventory.’ Beneath that were small icons of the clothes he was wearing, but nothing else.

  “The Statistics and Inventory Screen can be closed by swiping right or left. Please do so now.”

  Daniel swiped right, and the translucent text flew ‘offscreen’ and disappeared.

  “Have you played previous online role-playing video games, Daniel?”

  “Yes.”

  “Would you describe yourself as a beginner, intermediate, or advanced?”

  Daniel hesitated, then decided there was no need for false modesty. He’d logged tons of hours playing more traditional VR RPGs. “Advanced.”

  “Thank you. Your answers will expedite the explanation process.

  “There is a 24-hour day and night sequence in the Shattered Lands. Plan your gameplay accordingly.

  “Please note that damage dealt to your player will result in physical pain. Although not as painful as real-life injuries, significant discomfort is possible. This increases the realism of the game. Pain thresholds may be adjusted in the Game Menu. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.”

  “Players will be required to log out for thirty minutes at least once every five hours of Real World Time, which is equivalent to 20 hours of Game Time. This is in order for players to eat, drink, and use the restroom. You will be prompted several times before the mandatory log-out period. Failure to log out for at least 30 minutes every five hours will result in a mandatory lock-out of three hours in Real World Time, or twelve hours in Game Time. Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” Daniel said grumpily, getting tired of all the repeated ‘Do you understands,’ but dutifully replying anyway.

  “Would you prefer voice prompts or text prompts while playing the game?” the voice asked. “Text may be less intrusive, especially during conversations with non-player characters, also known as NPCs.”

  “Text.”

  The computer went on to give a laundry list of rules and options in the game. The most important:

  - Players who died during the game were subject to a mandatory lock-out period of one Real World Hour. This was to prevent retaliation and harassment of players (although Daniel also suspected that it was to make sure you couldn’t make suicidal attacks on bosses, knowing that you would respawn seconds later).

  - Players who died in the game were resurrected at the nearest respawn areas, which were unmarked but usually within a tenth of a mile of where they died.

  - Items put into your pockets during the game were not entered into permanent inventory. So if you put a coin in your pocket and then died in the game world, you wouldn’t have the coin anymore when you respawned – unless you entered it into your inventory.

  Finally the computer finished up. “Now, Daniel, prepare yourself for an experience like no other. Welcome to t
he Shattered Lands, where you can always change the road you’re on.”

  You can always change the road you’re on?

  What did that mean?

  He didn’t have time to think about it long, because the whiteness began to gain color and focus all around him, like one of those photos from a hundred years ago – Poloros? Polaroids? Something like that.

  Within seconds he was standing in a forest clearing surrounded by trees. Puffy white clouds hung in the deep blue sky, and morning sunshine skirted just over the treetops.

  WHOA.

  The entire scene was so lifelike, he had a hard time believing he wasn’t still in the real world instead of inside a digital game environment.

  He could feel the light breeze wafting over his skin.

  He could see individual leaves in the treetops rippling in the wind.

  He could smell pine needles and earthy, rich soil.

  He could hear birds – not just one kind, but several – chirping throughout the forest.

  He squinted against the bright sunlight beating down on his face.

  It was all… so… real.

  “Hey,” a familiar voice said over to his side.

  He turned to see Eric standing five feet away, grinning like a fool.

  “This is friggin’ AWESOME,” Eric hooted.

  He was dressed in a black cloak that stretched to his ankles, with a black hood that covered his head. Underneath were black boots and a black shirt.

  “What the hell are you wearing?” Daniel laughed as he walked over to face his friend.

  “Shut up,” Eric snapped.

  “What are you, a Sith or something?”

  “Wrong universe, dumbass. And it’s entirely appropriate for a mage.”

  “A dark mage, apparently.”

  “…yeah?” Eric said, like DUH.

  “Is that what you’re going to be? A dark mage?”

  “That’s the plan.”

  “Huh… okay…”

  Daniel couldn’t say why, exactly, but the knowledge of his friend’s plans – and the sight of him dressed completely in black – filled him with the tiniest bit of apprehension.

  Maybe it was because he knew how angry Eric could get at times. How dark.

  “What about you?” Eric asked, jogging Daniel out of his private thoughts.

  “I don’t know… I was thinking maybe I should be something I’d never be in real life…”

  “Like a ladies man?” Eric snickered.

  “Screw you,” Daniel said, though he was unable to keep a straight face. “No, I was thinking maybe a thief.”

  “Nice,” Eric said, legitimately impressed. “Cuttin’ loose a little bit.”

  “It’s only a game, right? Might as well do something cool.”

  “Might as well.”

  And then suddenly another voice spoke up from behind them – one that Daniel had never heard before.

  “Hey – did you guys just get here, too?”

  5

  Both Daniel and Eric looked over, startled.

  There was another guy in the clearing. He was probably in his twenties, with a light scruff of facial hair on his cheeks and a super-enthusiastic gleam in his eye.

  He was wearing a ridiculous puffy shirt with a bunch of strings laced across the chest. Over that was a bright aquamarine vest trimmed with gold filigree. He had on Shakespearean tights (which were way too tight) and a black hat trimmed with white fur on the brim, which looked like something out of a portrait of Henry the VIII.

  “The freak show just showed up,” Eric muttered under his breath.

  Daniel shot him a Cut it out look, then turned back to the… uh, ‘extravagantly’ outfitted stranger. “Yeah, we just got here.”

  “Awesome. Vadaleros Trebelan at your service.” The guy took a very elaborate bow, then stood back up. “I’m gonna be a traveling bard.”

  “Or a clown,” Eric muttered.

  “What was that?” the guy asked, as nice and sincere as could be.

  “Nothing,” Daniel said quickly. “Traveling bard – cool.”

  “I know, right? I’m gonna travel the Shattered Lands and sing the mighty adventures of heroes and – uh, you know, whoever! So, what’re your names?”

  “Eril,” Eric said.

  Daniel looked at him in surprise. “Eril?”

  “Yeah, I didn’t want to be plain old ‘Eric’ unless I’m a Viking. Why, what did you choose?”

  “…Daniel…”

  “Hahahaha! Oh man – figures,” Eric snorted. “Sir Daniel the Whitebread.”

  “Shut up,” Daniel groused.

  Vadaleros put his hands on his hips and looked around. “So – I guess we should head towards civilization, huh?” he said, pointing out over the treetops.

  Daniel and Eric both looked. Far in the distance, they could make out stone towers, like the keeps of a castle.

  “Wanna go together?” Vadaleros asked, happy as a puppy dog.

  Daniel and Eric exchanged glances.

  Eric furrowed his brows like NO!

  “Uh… sure, why not?” Daniel said to the bard.

  Eric rolled his eyes.

  “Yeah! Let’s go, then!” Vadaleros said as he strode off across the meadow towards a trail through the forest.

  “Dude? Seriously?” Eric griped.

  “Just… be nice,” Daniel said, and followed their guide down the trail.

  6

  Daniel knew without a doubt that Eric was never, ever going to let him live this down.

  Vadaleros was annoying as hell. He just prattled on the whole time about chords and music and kept singing random lines like, “I gave my love a flowerrrrrr – ”

  “I wish his love would give him some poison back,” Eric muttered under his breath.

  Five minutes ago, Daniel would have told him to give the guy a break.

  That was five minutes ago.

  Now Daniel basically agreed with him. About the poison, that was.

  In that short space, they found out that Vadaleros was actually ‘Mike’ from Cleveland, he was a coffee barista during the day but at night he played in a prog-rock band –

  “What’s prog rock?” Daniel whispered.

  “DON’T ASK,” Eric ordered.

  – and he played the bass guitar but what he really wanted to do was play the lyre because he was born in the wrong century, he should have actually been born in medieval times, and now was the perfect opportunity for him to actually live out the fantasy of what he should have been born to do.

  “Oh my God, give ME the poison,” Eric muttered.

  “Save some for me,” Daniel whispered.

  Finally Vadaleros stopped talking about himself. “So, what are you guys going to be here in the Shattered Lands?”

  “I think a thief,” Daniel answered. “Maybe. I don’t know.”

  “Cool. What about you?” Vadaleros asked.

  “A mage,” Eric said flatly.

  “You should be a bard. You can travel the countryside like me, singing the adventures of heroes – ”

  “Yeah, I heard,” Eric interrupted curtly.

  Vadaleros lifted his hand towards the sky like he was proposing marriage to a cloud. “I gave my love a flowerrrrrr – ”

  “GOD, JUST – STOP!” Eric yelled angrily.

  And then everything changed.

  A blur whizzed through the air fwwwt! and pierced Vadaleros’ throat.

  One second he was singing – and the next he was gurgling, eyes wide with horror, as blood poured down his neck and stained his white tunic a deep crimson.

  “What the hell?!” Eric cried out as he leapt back, terrified.

  “Vadaleros?!” Daniel screamed.

  Vadaleros toppled to the ground, clutching at the dagger in his throat.

  Daniel rushed over, knelt down, and tried to apply pressure to the puncture wound.

  Even in the adrenaline of the moment, a dispassionate part of his brain took note of just how real it was:


  The blood was wet against his fingers.

  Hot.

  Sticky.

  This is too real, he thought in revulsion and panic. TOO real.

  Eric just stood there, paralyzed.

  “GET OVER HERE!” Daniel screamed at his friend.

  Eric scrambled over and knelt down. “What do you want me to do?!”

  “I DON’T KNOW – I DON’T KNOW!”

  Vadaleros’ body began to shake, his legs spasming against the ground. Daniel could see the panic in his eyes, the absolute terror –

  And then the trembling stopped.

  He was gone.

  A few feet away came the crunch of boots on stone and dirt.

  Daniel and Eric both looked up to see a man in a tattered, midnight blue cloak. He looked young – late twenties at the oldest. He clutched a gnarled oaken walking staff in one hand. Long, greasy hair framed dozens of scars on his pointy face, and his eyes were hidden in shadow beneath the wide brim of a ragged hat.

  The man looked over at Eric – or at least seemed to be addressing him. It was hard to tell with his eyes in shadow.

  “You said you wanted him to stop.”

  Eric just stared at him, mouth gaping wide.

  The man gave a sinister smile. “Wish granted.”

  7

  Daniel and Eric both backed away from the stranger – only to realize that five other men in tattered clothes had appeared from the woods behind them.

  They were surrounded.

  The man in the hat prodded the corpse with the toe of his scuffed-up boot. “Never did care much for bards. None of them ever offered to sing my praises. ‘Merridack, the picker of pockets, the slitter of throats!’ That’d make a good ballad, eh? Better than one more song about some noble jackass who shits marble and wipes his bunghole with gold leaf.”

  The men behind Eric and Daniel all snickered.

  “Ah well. Search him, Rat, while I attend to our other two guests.”

  As the man in the hat ambled over to Eric and Daniel, one of his filthy minions ran over and began patting down the dead body.

  “Well, well. What brings you two fine gentlemen out to the forest today?”