Otherlife Nightmares: The Selfless Hero Trilogy (5 page)

Unexpectedly, Thana turned out to be the mystery card. No one had mentioned her in any way, shape, or form since they’d arrived. Almost as if she were beneath notice. It was a curious situation, one that he couldn’t properly understand.

Arriving at an arched entryway, the man popped open the door and gestured inside. Walking into the room, Runner scanned it and found it empty of people. And windows. Feeling that mild sense of paranoia crawl upwards another notch, he wondered briefly if this might be an elaborate cell.

It was well decorated and included a small dining room, a kitchen, a master bedroom, and a smaller servant’s bedroom.

Yet it felt like a cell, all the same.

No bathroom of course. Bathrooms don’t exist in games.

“Clothes are in the wardrobe, sir. The reception will be several hours from now. Another in the king’s service will be by to fetch you.”

The door clicked shut as soon as the last word was said. There would be no conversation or questions.

“Shit like this makes me feel itchy. Feel like a prisoner. Thrice-damned shadow fuckers,” muttered Hannah, walking deeper into the room.

“At least it’s n-n-n-not a wagon.”

“Definitely not a wagon. We could escape the wagon easily enough. Check on the clothes. I’m going to work on building Thana’s staff. All that assembly line crafting in the wagon leveled me, but left me feeling a little droid-like,” Runner complained.

His mind had been left to wander as he worked. He had taken the time to explore all the problems, possible solutions, and his life in general. The only problem had been the act of creating said items had been unrewarding.

He left Hannah and Nadine and moved over to the dining table. He began withdrawing the bits and pieces he’d bought in advance for this exact situation.

For the staff itself he’d found a model that was segmented and made of metallic cylinders. Each cylinder had a specific place and therefore would only fit in a certain order. Which meant they were unique and not duplicates.

The bottom stood apart even more so than the rest, having a reinforced butt and a slightly different color.

Runner sat down once he had all the parts he thought he’d need and picked up the butt of the staff. Rotating it in his hand, he looked at the dark metal. It had no luster and could only be described as a dark gray—nearly black in truth if one were not in a strong light. Each segment was about five to six inches long and maybe an inch and a half wide.

As he sat there contemplating, his mind began to change the direction of this planned weapon. Building up her damage would be great on paper, but terrible in practice. There was no aggro meter or threat bar for her to reference to determine her position on it.

Having decided on a new plan, he focused on the piece in his hand and bound it with
Fade.
It was an activated ability that would effectively lower accumulated threat. It was one of his thief abilities, but he’d already proven he could distill thief abilities into potions. Why not equipment?

A light chime sounded in his ear, signifying success. Smirking he set it aside and picked up the next piece of the staff. Rolling it in his palm, he considered his options.

Selecting
Silence,
he bound it to the piece, then attached the two finished pieces together. With a click, the interlocking pieces joined together smoothly.

Nodding to himself, he bound the third and fourth sections with
Cleanse
and
Distract
. Six sections, along with the wrapping, the headpiece, and its decorations, remained. As the smirk grew into a leer, he couldn’t help but be envious.

He could push any of his party members up to an obscene level of ability, but he would never personally reach their heights.

All six succeeding cylinders were imbued with
Intelligence
as was the bright red cloth he would use for wrapping. Runner locked the six pieces together and set the staff down at his feet. Runner pulled over the stave’s decorative crown and accentuating ornamentation.

There wasn’t much artistry to it, and overall it spoke to practicality. Extending from the red connecting cap were three bars of dark gray metal, twisted and curving over each other to form a hollow, stylized spear point.

Remembering their duel back in Faren, he sharpened the tip to a fine point. Finishing the work, he also gave it an
Intelligence
binding. Thana’s job was to blow shit up, and it was his job to make that easier for her.

He set the finished crown on the table and picked up the red cloth wrapping they’d bought in Crivel. Wrapping the butt of the staff tightly in the cloth, he applied a touch of the
Agility
-
enchanted epoxy. He’d been using it for the handles of swords and daggers, but it would do just fine in holding the wrapping in place.

Winding it in an upward spiraling pattern, he rotated the staff in his hands. Stopping two feet up the shaft, he wound a foot-long section of the material for a hand grip. He bound it tightly and touched the ends with another brushing of epoxy.

Rolling the staff, he continued to wind the cloth for another foot before creating another wrapped section of cloth. Once more he spiraled it around towards the tip. Tucking it firmly over the tip, he touched it with yet more epoxy, then quickly joined the red crown to the tip and tightened it up.

Thumping the butt of the staff into the ground, he inspected his work. Far from beautiful, it felt dark, sinister almost, to him. The bright red of the wrapping just made the metal all the darker.

Frowning, he shook his head. He was no artist. He would have been far better off asking for help. Too late now though.

He picked up the newly fashioned headpiece, fit it into the grooves of the connecting crown, and rotated it until it clicked.

A feeling of vertigo washed over him, and he pressed a hand to his head.

I have returned. You must be more careful. That nearly disconnected you.

A brassy gong sounded in his head. It wasn’t a noise he’d heard in the game up to this point. The vertigo faded away slowly, and he was able to lift his head. Peering around the room, he found nothing had changed. Nadine and Hannah were still in the other room, more than likely sleeping or rooting around through the clothes.

“Disconnected? Would it have exited me from the server?”

Yes. I fixed the server call.

“I see. I take it I’ve been pushing the code and server a bit too hard? Wait. Are you the reason I’ve been able to break so many rules? Why the game is going further from its original settings?”

Yes, yes, and yes.

“Right, then. Safe to assume the server will interpret what I did in the same way in the future?”

Correct. It has associated the request you made to the unique artifact creation. It did not match any existing parameters. This was the closest to what you just did.

“Ah, I see.” Runner felt a cold fist clutching his heart. He owed Srit a considerable amount then. “Thank you, Srit, I appreciate your timely return. Did I interrupt something?”

Yes. They had many questions.

“I see. Please consider me in your debt. I had no idea you’d been working for me this entire time. Now, let’s see what we have…”

Runner tapped the server messages that had appeared with the gong.

Congratulations! Server first: Unique item creation

You’ve earned 500 fame

Congratulations! Server first: Artifact item creation

You’ve earned 500 fame

You’re now Acclaimed

He closed the server messages and checked on his newly made staff.

Item:

Effects-

None:

Functions-

Fade:
Temporarily reduce your threat level.

Silence:
Interrupt and prevent an opponent’s spell casting.

Cleanse:
Remove negative physical status effects.

Distract:
Attracts the nearby attention of anyone inside the target area.

Cooldown:
30 seconds

Attributes-

Intelligence
: 30

Agility
: 3

There were no damage indicators in Otherlife Dreams. All damage was calculated through your stats and any multipliers your classes would add to it.

Not that it matters to me, when I can put thirty points of a stat on an item.

The number of functions alone would have put this item in the Unique or Artifact category. The massive amount of intelligence was the equivalent of thirty levels to boot. Put simply, it was OP and shouldn’t be in the game. At all.

Yet it needed a name. A name suitable to Lady Death.

The End? Scythe? Your End? Boomstick?

I request answers.

“Oh? Fair enough. I’m stuck right now anyways. Names are hard.”

The front of your ship was destroyed. All who were there are dead. Only a fraction of the pods were in use.

“And? I didn’t detect a question in all of that,” Runner said, covering for his momentary shock. The officers were dead. Many questions remained, but he at least knew the officers weren’t a part of this.

Why were there so many pods unused?

“This is an enlisted ship. Almost all of the commissioned officers were in another transport. The few we had on board were merely here to organize reentry, formation, and supply delivery. If you don’t mind me asking, were you able to determine the cause of the damage?”

Runner set the staff aside and began pulling parts for a new shield for Katarina out. His inventory was nearly as full as when he’d first logged in. Bits and bobs of unmade items that Nadine or he had purchased.

Strength increased the amount you could carry for every point you had. For people like Katarina, who would be lugging around heavy armor, this was a must. For casters it would feel like a waste of points.

In fact, if it hadn’t been for the minimum carry weight every character had, he would have been terribly encumbered.

He’d never have gotten away from Yeller, gotten up that tree, or even survived.

Undetermined. Damage is indicative of an explosion from the inside of the hull.

“That leaves sabotage, boarding, or system malfunction. Probably caused a chain reaction, too. Not a betting man, but my money would be on sabotage. It’s the most likely scenario. Middle of the projected route, least likely to get assistance, assumed MIA, unconfirmed space disaster.” Runner huffed as he finished. Wouldn’t have been the first time sympathizers attempted to help a planet liberate itself.

He placed the handles, straps, frame, and interlocking plates to one side. Touching each piece, he confirmed he had everything needed for the build out of a heater shield.

Why are there members of your crew that have no brain activity?

Blinking rapidly, Runner laid the silver base frame of the shield in front of him. A quick
Spellbinding
of
Stoneskin
finished the piece. Runner harrumphed lightly and scratched at his cheek.

“Complicated question. Too long; didn’t read, answer? I can only guess the crew was loaded into the game when the medical server failed. The medical server is what keeps people from going insane in stasis during a long trip. Far as I can tell”—he paused, fit one of the plates into the base, and tapped it with a fingertip—“the game server was loaded into the mainframe directly. A lot of its functions are similar to that of the medical server. The game itself was originally created as a therapeutic tool.”

Picking up the plate, he focused on it for a moment to
Spellbind
it with
Constitution
. Upon completion he set it back into the base.

“It hosts the minds of its users, separates out memories that are too hard to handle, and only provides it back to them according to treatment. In this case, it separated out everyone’s memories entirely, then broke them into leveling groups. No idea why—my guess would be it was just too much information for it to handle correctly.”

Picking up another plate, he bound it with
Constitution
as well and then set it into the base, next to the first.

“Why do we go brain dead when we die in game? I don’t honestly know. I can’t imagine it was intentional, unless it was the only way they could load us into the game at all. Not to mention the game didn’t even start until you got involved. I would wager they hadn’t expected the game to turn on.”

I understand. I am sorry. I did not mean to start it.