Umbra Online- Halgor's Horde Read online

  Wasn’t I?

  Now, thinking back on it, he wasn’t so sure. It was all so crazy.

  “They said they summoned me,” he went on, discussing his dilemma out loud as he often did, the familiar sound of his voice some piece of reality he could latch onto, sound off against.

  He remembered his monitor exploding, the purple goo and being sucked into the screen, then appearing above the table in the tavern not more than a few seconds later. The glowing symbols flashed in his mind right before that, too, the same ones he’d remembered seeing on the crypt of Althor Rahn, the demigod son of Katar, goddess of the moon, and the hero of legend, Remus Rahn.

  What does that have to do with anything? he wondered.

  Althor Rahn was one of the greatest monster challenges in Umbra Online, the most powerful of all the engageable bosses in the current version—until the next content patch, of course—an accomplice of Gorr Kura, the ultimate bad guy in the world.

  Ty had fallen in combat against Althor more than fifteen times, doing his best to close out the latest expansion with a bang and accomplish a feat only a handful of players had ever managed.

  He’d been close, but never close enough.

  “Getting my hands on Althor’s warpblade sure wouldn’t hurt, either,” he laughed as he imagined retrieving the greatest weapon in the game, a blade capable of slicing through both time and space, not to mention every PC, NPC, and critter who got in Ty’s way. It was the ultimate drop.

  Picturing the weapon and wondering what it might feel like strapped to his hip, he glanced down at himself and realized that, despite all the glitz and glamour of the world around him, UO recreated so perfectly down to the very last detail, he was still wearing the same clothes he’d been lounging around his house in.

  He had on a black BTS shirt—shhh, don’t tell anyone—with a spattering of Cheeto dust staining the collar and chest a dusty orange, and a pair of gray shorts badly in need of a belt, as well as his blue, high-top Converse with dirty white laces—untied, of course.

  Ty ran his hands over himself and, as much as he wanted to notice something weird, something out of place, something he could point to in order to explain everything, he was just him, plain old Ty.

  He pinched himself again.

  -1 HP!

  “Son of a noodle!” he hissed when the pain shot through his arm, the same as it had inside Savan’s shop. “I’ve gotta stop doing that.”

  At this point, there was no more denying it.

  “I’m really in the game.” Excitement warred with terror, and Ty slumped to the ground, lightheadedness washing over him. “I’m really here.”

  No one argued otherwise.

  -1 MP!

  The glowing red text flickered at the top of his vision, and Ty stared at it, vaguely remembering something like that in the game.

  You feel…blah.

  MP? Mind points?

  It had been so long since he’d seen his MP take a ding that he wasn’t entirely sure that’s what he was even seeing. As a level 50 warrior, there was nothing in the game that gnawed at his confidence or mental wellbeing outside of a few psionic creatures, such as the Mind Scourge or the Psi-Lich, and those dang pskeeters sucking his brains out. Other than that, he walked through everything, leaving death and destruction in his wake, with only Althor Rahn besting him in any serious way.

  But I’m not really level 50 anymore, am I? I’m just…me.

  He felt sick as the negative score flashed and winked out, leaving tracers behind on his eyes. It was if a weight pressed down on top of him, making it hard to breathe.

  It felt like that one time he’d asked Janie to the school dance.

  He’s mustered up the nerve after six months, finally working out exactly what he would say, exactly how he’d act and dress and even smell, his cologne game on point. His mirror was probably tired of seeing him practicing in it, but Ty was bound and determined to get her to go with him to the spring dance.

  Then, when he cornered her in the hall after finally catching her alone, the gaggle of her friends nowhere to be found for once, he dug deep, bootstrapped his courage, and approached her, swallowing hard. He forced a smile and spit the words out in a jumbled mess that was nothing like what he’d practiced, but he’d done it, nevertheless.

  There was a long, quiet pause that lingered in the air after he’d asked her out, his heart thundering as he awaited her answer, his breath still in his lungs. Silence settled over the hall.

  Then, she just sneered and put her hand in front of his face, palm out, and said, “Ewww, I got a man, and you don’t even qualify.” Then she circled around him as if he had cooties and walked off. Her laughter rang out in her wake, echoing off the walls, each little utterance a knife stabbing Ty in the chest.

  That’s pretty much how he felt right then.

  Crushed.

  His stomach churned, bile stinging the back of his throat, as he surveyed the world around him once more. He always imagined being a part of the Umbra Online game world ever since he started playing, he and his friends talking about what they’d do if they were their characters, running amok in the game as though it were real, killing and looting.

  He clambered to his feet and looked at himself again. “Not quite how any of us pictured it, I gotta admit,” he muttered, but Ty wasn’t one to wallow in his troubles; that’s not how his mom had raised him. He’d only moped about Janie for another three months before he got over her.

  Sorta.

  It helped she moved away, and he didn’t have to see her at school, traipsing through the halls with that punk Calvin Maines hanging on her arm, the pair leering at him and chuckling as they walked past.

  “Whatever!” Ty grumbled, shaking his head to chase his sour thoughts away. “I’m here now—I think—and there’s nothing I can do but see it through. If this is all a dream, I’ll wake up eventually and have a heck of a story to tell. If it’s not, ain’t no point sitting here moping like some noob who lost his death pile.”

  He drew in a deep breath, let it out slow to steel his nerves, then marched off down the street with his head held high.

  No matter what this was, Ty wanted to experience it to the fullest, regardless how it ended up.

  +1 MP!

  Your MPs have recovered!

  Ty grinned. “Now, that’s what I’m talking about!”

  Three

  Unsettled In

  TY’S CONFIDENCE LASTED all of about another twenty steps or so.

  Fortunately, though, he didn’t take another hit to his MPs when his uncertainty returned.

  As he made his way deeper into the town, Altunn he remembered Savan calling it—the name sounding right, though it had been a good five years since he’d been there in-game—the staring eyes of every passerby boring into his soul made him uncomfortable.

  It didn’t take more than a few seconds to understand how different he appeared, how strange he looked even in a game full of make-believe beings.

  As he strode down the street, he realized he was looking up at pretty much everyone he passed, except the occasional kid or two, and most of those were even taller than he was.

  Ty thought back to the character creation screen of UO, and even the shortest of the height options he remembered topped out at about five-foot-ten, including the females. He was a debatable five-two with his high-tops on, a straight back, and a bit of tiptoe action. Ty also weighed about a buck-ten fully dressed. He was tiny compared to everyone else, and it made him a bit self-conscious.

  No wonder they thought I was a thief, he thought, remembering what Amon had said. No one takes a short guy seriously. Ask Napoleon.

  But despite everyone staring, Ty couldn’t help but return the gesture.

  Even living in an international city like Chicago, he’d never seen as much diversity on display in one place. Split between PCs and NPCs, there were dwarves, elves, gnomes, humans, a pair of abyssins—regal cat folk who looked descended from Siamese—as well as the ferals�
��the catch-all term for the various were-breeds whose primary form was humanoid, like Amon, apparently—a couple of pixies, and he even spied a half-orc lurking on the porch of an adventurer’s guild, the banner waving overhead telling him it was the rogues’ den. The half-orc’s yellow eyes followed him down the street.

  As Ty hurried to break free of the NPC’s lingering gaze, he was startled to spot a draug, a mystical cross between a dark elf and a dragon. He stumbled to a halt, unable to pull his eyes from the majestic being.

  He’d only seen a few of them in-game before, and he’d never seen one in real life, of course.

  She was tall and lithe, brilliant emerald eyes gleaming in darkened sockets. The tiny scales that made of her flesh caught sunlight, reflecting tiny rainbows that brightened the air as though she were surrounded by brilliant gems. Long, ebony braids hung down her back, her hair gleaming like the softest of silks.

  Ty was immediately enraptured by her. His video card had done the race no favors, he realized. She was beyond beautiful.

  Clearly just starting out in UO, she wore the basic starter shrift and pants, their billowing ends tucked into worn, black leather boots that rose to mid-calf. Daggers hung in simple sheaths at her sides, and she strode through town with a haughty confidence, the air of one of regal descent.

  He was blown away by seeing her. Almost no one played the class these days.

  Barring the obvious hurdles of conception—Ty chuckled as he imagined the specifics—it was difficult to fathom why a PC would choose one of them to play in the game.

  Though more powerful at the starting levels than every other player race, the draug were an XP drain that never stopped sucking. While the first level was reasonably obtained at 10,000 XP—most other races, regardless of class assignment, meeting that first goal between 2,000 and 3,000—it became exponentially more difficult to level after that.

  Draugs fell behind in skills and power quickly compared to everyone else, and it became harder and harder to level and earn new abilities since they were stuck competing in the lower-level quests and XP-farming ranges, unlike the other races who could move on to better locations.

  Ty had seen maybe a handful of draugs over the years, and the highest of them had been level 22 (Morrigron, he thought he remembered his name being). He was an absolute beast in battle, testing Ty to the fullest. Of course, Ty had only been level 35 at the time, but that showed the disparity between the two player classes, especially since Ty had been way better equipped.

  Caught up in his thoughts, he hadn’t realized the young draug had caught him staring and stopped in the middle of the street.

  “What the hell are you staring at?” she growled, her forked tongue flicking out in emphasis.

  Ty stiffened and gasped. He raised both hands in surrender and took a step back. “Nothing. My bad.”

  “That’s what I thought,” she chuckled darkly, shaking her head. Still laughing, she marched off and left Ty to collect himself.

  He glanced down at his crotch and let out a relieved sigh.

  Whew! Glad I didn’t wet myself.

  After a moment, waiting until the draug was gone from sight, all while awkwardly pretending he wasn’t, Ty forced his feet to move and started down the street again. The half-ogre on the porch offered a sly grin over Ty’s shoulder, rubbing the encounter in.

  He’d seen everything.

  “Dang it,” Ty muttered, hurrying his pace. It’s like the first day of middle school all over. At least I ain’t got no lunch money to take.

  It took Ty about a half-hour to re-familiarize himself with the basic layout of Altunn, it having been so long since he’d been there last. Fortunately, it hadn’t changed all that much in any of the upgrades, but there were still a few places he couldn’t recall.

  Back where the Savan’s hut had been, all the class trainers had similar little buildings where they helped players spent their level points. True to the game, the starting trainers were of a generalized nature rather than specialized, only the most basic of classes represented, none of them offering any real specialization. There was the warrior trainer, the priest, an alchemist, rogue, druid, monk, pscionicist, and a ranger trainer. The larger towns catering to higher level characters would have a better selection of alt-classes.

  As they were in Altunn, each hut was marked with the sign of their professions on the door and a banner fluttering overhead, which could be seen from a distance to lead players to the trainers.

  Down the main road was a bank, which offered up accounts and storage facilities—for a fee—for players to stash excess gear and cash in, all to avoid losing it in the random player-versus-player (PvP) that sometimes happened outside of the protected areas.

  Ty chuckled, he’d gained a ton of gear by ambushing assholes players, and he’d lost even more being attacked by them when Ty was AFK, not paying attention and off doing something for his mom or grabbing a snack.

  It wasn’t a major part of the game these days, though, most PCs looking to just play and adventure without drama, but there were plenty of folks who got a kick out of shanking dudes for the fun of it.

  To temper that a bit, there were specific areas designated for players to fight and kill each other without negative consequences, such as losing their gear or damaging their reputation points, and they even earned a few XP while doing it. The PvP zones made for a good outlet and kept players from clawing at each other’s throats…most of the time.

  Defiler and his friends came to mind.

  Ty brushed the thought of them away and marched on down the street, still feeling the stares of everyone around him as he surveyed the rest of the town.

  Near the bank was a large temple and a bronze statue of the town’s founder, Altunn Ree, an NPC whose history Ty couldn’t remember. The statue made him look like a badass, though.

  He caught sight of the draug entering the Shady Orchid, across the street from the Waytan Inn. Ty remembered being foolish enough to stay there one night when he’d first entered the game.

  The dang bedbugs were bigger than the beds.

  Midnight random encounters sucked! Nothing like battling for your life in only your drawers.

  The shop he’d seen earlier but couldn’t identify turned out to not be a shop at all. It was the local constabulary, though it looked more like a house of ill repute or a thieves’ den. Two city guards lazed outside in the shadows, watching the town stroll by from their post on the porch. The guards’ swords leaned against the walls, within easy reach of the two men in their wooden chairs.

  They glared at Ty as he walked by, and he subconsciously sped his pace until he was down the street and they’d moved on to glaring at someone else.

  That was when a loud gong sounded overhead, as if coming from the clouds, the ringing echoing through the town.

  “Oooh!” Ty moaned not two seconds later, a great, grumbling gurgle erupting from his stomach. He clasped his belly as a second rumble rolled through it.

  You are hungry!

  “Duh,” he laughed, but he knew starvation was no joking matter in the game.

  Left unchecked, his stats would begin to take hits, and his skills would suffer, as well as his health points (HP). If he didn’t get something to eat, he would eventually wither away until he died…well, respawned since he was still in a starter town. Regardless, it wouldn’t help to be any weaker than he already was.

  Too bad he didn’t have any money.

  The bakery across the street, Sully’s Baked Goods, had a broad window where dozens of different types of sweet breads were on display, stacked in delicious-looking piles. The smell wafting from the open shop door made Ty’s mouth water.

  He knew it was all part of the game, a Pavlovian response built-in, UO demanding a player eat three times a day in order to maintain some supposed illusion of reality in-game, but he’d never felt so hungry in his life.

  The first thing I’m going to do when I get out of here is petition the dang programmers to change this cr
ap. Starving sucks.

  This hadn’t been a problem for Ty at level 50. He’d even written a macro to stuff a portion of rations in his mouth every time the notification came up, just so he wouldn’t have to take time out of the game to eat. All he had to do was hit a hotkey, and he was good for the next eight hours. Got so he didn’t even remember doing it half the time, it had become such a habit.

  But of course, AzzKickerofTheGodz420 had an endless supply of money and food so that it wasn’t a problem. Ty, however, had an endless supply of jack.

  He’d gotten so used to cruising along in the game that he’d forgotten what it was like to start over from nothing. Even when he’d gone back and played the game with a different character, he had access to AzzKicker’s stash of equipment and money. His new characters never wanted for anything. They were equipped with the best gear for their level.

  But that didn’t do Ty any good now.

  “What am I supposed to do now?”

  Then it hit him.

  “That’s right, there are quests all over this little town,” he crowed, as if he’d had some amazing epiphany. “I can go and—”

  The thought curled up and died on his tongue, leaving behind a bitter aftertaste. He glanced down at himself again, taking his visage in once more, and sighed.

  “Or maybe not.”

  He didn’t have so much as starter gear; no padded jerkin or pants, no boots, and not even a dull, rusty blade or a wooden practice sword to fight with. Ty literally had nothing. And he knew from patting his pockets earlier that he didn’t have any coins stashed away to buy anything with either.

  “I am so screwed.”

  He sniffed the air again, savoring the sweet smell of the bakery’s wares and, before he even realized it, he’d crept up to the shop and leaned against the window, his nose squished against the glass with a squeak. The glass fogged, and he wiped it away to keep the treats in view.