This Broken Sword Read online

  I felt at a loss. What an odd reception. Then a soft whir and bright, electronic voice announced, “Welcome to Delta Bay, traveler! You have been assigned to pod 43. Please follow me.” A diminutive droid, the size of a bathroom trashcan, zoomed away and led toward the far end of the room. I frowned, not able to think of where the little recyclable might have come from. Nonetheless, I followed.

  After passing dozens of doors, the bot stopped and turned to face me. “Welcome to your primary domicile. If you have questions, you can summon me with the command Grima Wormtongue.”

  Grima sped away. I looked up at my door, touched the palm scanner, and the door slid open.

  I’d watched hours of in-game feeds to bolster my knowledge of the Tol universe. Not a scrap of video had leaked showing the inside of a Tol gamer’s room, though. The mystery had been worth it.

  My room was small but nicer than the one I had at FlatWorld. There was a slim desk facing a wall monitor. I could see a pin hole a few inches up the wall that no doubt projected the keyboard onto the desk space. A tidy bathroom stood at the back of the room.

  My VR pod stood gleaming, owning the right side of the room. It was an egg shaped bed, all white, and lit from within by a dark blue light. A thrill ran up my spine: I was in gamer heaven.

  I shrugged my pack off and set it beneath the edge of my desk. My room’s door slid shut on its own, and the wall monitor to my left lit up. “Greetings Dahlia Otou! Welcome to your new home here in Delta Bay. Are your accommodations satisfactory?” The screen was a shimmer of fuzz, and it pulsed with every word the AI spoke. Wait, did it expect a response? The screen remained silent.

  “Yes. Everything is great,” I replied. I’d long ago turned off all AI interactions in my life, the ones I could control at least. They felt forced, like speaking to a public servant.

  “Very good. This is your computing station. If you prefer, as some adventurers do, please begin your character creation here. As far as your other needs are concerned, restrooms can be found in the bay itself, though you can also use your personal lavatory. If you need food, Grima Wormtongue can bring you whatever you desire. Tol has the finest chef printers the tech gods can provide. Travelers can also eat in the communal bay. All components are voice activated. For anything else, ask me. My name is Elendil. Pleased to meet you Dahlia Otou.”

  What awesome names. Across Great Sea to Middle Earth I am come. “It’s nice to meet you. I don’t need anything, except maybe some water.”

  “Grima!” the AI commanded. Less than a minute later, the tiny droid whirred in, chest opening, producing a bottle on a tray the size of a dinner plate. I took a sip and noticed the taste. No twang of chlorine, iodine or peroxide.

  “Your draught was customized for VR gamers, a balance of amino acids, hormones, probiotics and electrolytes to keep your body satisfied for as long as possible with no food. I hope you like the taste.”

  “I do.”

  “Wonderful. When you are refreshed, do you plan on enjoying the task of character creation and realm selection on this monitor, or do you wish to immerse yourself in the gaming pod?”

  I paused. I couldn’t wait to get into Tol. I had only ever experienced school-funded VR demos. But I knew this. “I’ll stick to my desk for now.”

  “Ah, an old school type, eh?” the AI joked.

  I couldn’t help but smile. “Yes, I suppose.”

  “Good. Well then, I will leave you to it. The Tol Online interface will load when our conversation is complete. The Katana you have chosen to upload looks lovely. When you are ready to upload into VR, lay the item in the chamber with you. Our sensors will scan its specifications.”

  The AI winked out, and the screen changed from a bright, electric blue, to a dark green. A holo mouse and keyboard formed on the desk before me, and I lifted my hands to begin. Now we were talking.

  A different voice intoned, this one flat and devoid of personality, “Please begin your journey by selecting a realm. If you need information click the help button. Would you like me to run the introduction tutorial now?”

  No. Tutorials were useful, but it had been a long day, a long week. I couldn’t resist moving forward. The tutorial could wait. Instead, I clicked on the blinking icon labeled “Realm Type.” I had seen several feeds online about this aspect of the game. By choosing realm, you were specifying the experience you wished to have. Most realms were generic, but for membership users, almost any realm could be entered.

  For those players who need an “authentic” experience, you could enter a Role Playing realm. Some of these were so strict, players were banished for using non-period language. Other realms sported anime style blood effects or variable gravity settings.

  I knew my choice before I made it, however. I saw it on the list as I scrolled down: Realistic. A realm type that had no requirements for language or behavior. The Realistic Realm Type was the least chosen. The pain settings were high, XP hard to gain, items and resources difficult to find.

  It was also much easier to die. A tank couldn’t be stabbed six times through the heart and continue to rage on. What made it worth the discomfort was the fact that fewer players chose it. That meant fewer resources were available, so it had high trade prices for in game items. One other factor made this choice a potential gold mine for me. Over 90% of the players that chose it were over 18. I’d be playing in a far less populated Tol. This was where I could make money.

  The next choice was trivial but fun. I clicked the button marked “World” and saw a massive list open. Many of the Worlds focused on popular periods or themes. I saw Steampunk Classic, Steampunk Western, Steampunk Japan. I couldn’t believe how specific some were: Austinian 18th century, Shakespeare’s Fantastic Forests, Paradise Lost, and several renditions of the Odyssey. All, no doubt, were cool.

  I knew what I wanted though. No data was available to account for the number of players in each world, so it was purely aesthetic at this point. Countless hours playing computer roms of NES and Playstation and the six times I’d read through LOTR, made me choose Classic High Fantasy.

  Finally, I arrived at “Mode.” Another easy one for me. I selected Immersion Mode. The game mechanics were hidden unless mentally prompted. I wanted the full experience.

  The boring part was out of the way. Now it was time for Character Design. A surge of excitement shot through me and I called aloud, ““Elendil, I would like to switch to pod interface please.”

  “Of course Dahlia.” The lid opened with the sound of smooth hydraulics. “Right this way then. Do not forget your in-game item.”

  I pulled out my katana, kissed its lacquered sheath. A delicate and fading purple trail of flowers tumbled down the scabbard. Wisteria. I came from flowers, and the sword would never let me forget.

  I climbed in and was about to tell Elendil that I was ready when the lid closed down over me. As I tried to relax, I imagined my dad lying down just like this, his sad face covered with this technological shroud.

  The last time I had been in a VR unit was sixth grade. Mr. Mendoza’s entire class walked outside to take a tour through the VR demo. Several beds filled the inside of a portable trailer. That was when I first thought of a career as an In-Game Resource Specialist, otherwise known as an Earner. VR was so lucrative, a decent portion of the gaming world plugged in every day to make money. Some farmed for high level items, others provided services or entertainment. I even remember our teacher telling us about Gareth ‘Bright Tongue’ Willows, a man who started his singing career in virtual pubs and festivals in a Renaissance world.

  Thank the gods, the days of nanite injections or cerebral taps were over. Far too many side effects, and some outright deaths, had occurred. The latest VR tech allowed users to upload their consciousness by manipulating the psychoelectric fields around their heads. A simple band wrapped around my forehead. Dozens of straps curled around me, allowing feedback throughout my entire body. I closed my eyes.

  A world of light and color exploded around me. Satur
ated blues and greens tore across my vision that made the world of my tiny white and gray room seem drab by comparison.

  “Welcome Dahlia!” Elendil said in a voice that rivaled Zeus. I couldn’t help but flinch. I’m not good at dealing with loud noises. “Let’s begin by choosing a race.”

  A list of hundreds of options fell before me. Everything from trolls, orcs and naga to centaurs and high elves. If not for my research, I’d be stuck here for hours. I selected what I thought to be a useful combination. Under the many variations of elf, a mix of half night elf and half forest elf appeared. The racial bonuses were significant for my strategy.

  My night elf ancestry would grant me additional stealth at all times except for the brightest parts of day, increased night vision, and arcane knowledge. The first two were what I was after, but arcane knowledge, if leveled up enough, allowed a player to identify magic items and the abilities of magic creatures.

  The forest elf boasted increased movement speed and stealth in forested areas and a trait called Wild Husbandry, which granted perception, tracking and foraging perks to all non magical creatures and plants. I had seen some explanations of this awesome trait online, though Tol censored anything that even hinted at meta gaming, so it was vague. Still, anyone with the half a mind to hunt considered Wild Husbandry valuable. The only drawback was that it did not activate in any noticeable way until level 10. That I was getting only half of each set of racial bonuses was okay with me, as their effects overlapped and supported one another.

  Drawbacks were also part of any race selection. Since I had no high elf ancestry, my strength and health took the brunt of my losses. Ten percent reduction to both attributes was tough, but worth it. Also, certain races like the orcs, gremlins and most of the other “baddies” hated my perky eared guts.

  Despite the setbacks, I was happy with my choice. It was time to speed up and get started.

  It was uncanny watching a cursor float across to the tab I wanted it to. It made me feel telekinetic. I selected physical appearance. Gender, female. I’d thought of playing as a male because it would allow me to avoid creepers. Though all “adult content” was blocked in the under 18 world I’d be playing in, Tol was notoriously realistic in their renderings of the human body. I had no intention of learning how to pee in a new way. No thank you.

  I selected shorter hair, just long enough to tie up into a top knot when I needed to warrior out, flattened the chest and narrowed the hips. Finally, I had the system scan my face for upload. I thought of thinning my lips, building up my jaw for good measure, but stopped. I left it. My face would stay. The end result was an avatar that would allow me to avoid some of the attention I loathed in the real world.

  Choose Class Tree was my final decision before logging in. I had considered this decision endlessly. There were many top Earner jobs in Tol. Mining and Farming made consistent income if one was lucky or skilled enough. Some went the traditional route and built on the Warrior tree, hoping to slay the right mobs for valuable loot. I didn’t have the personality for any of these. I preferred to be alone when possible, wanted versatility in gameplay, and having witnessed some other worldly scenic screenshots, wanted to experience Tol’s version of nature.

  I selected the Hunter Class Tree. I would begin as a Naturalist, and need to work my way up by building foresting and survivalist skills. Players of this class had bonuses to ranged attack, stealth and movement speed at higher levels. Also, they may capture and bond a single pet, allowing them to use that pet as an assistant in combat as well as a companion. I had no clue what companion I might find, but I hoped for something as furry and cute as it was fierce.

  “Character Creation Complete,” a voice announced. I was done.

  As I prepared myself for Tol, an experience I had wanted for years, I couldn’t help but pause. Unspoken questions rose within me, ones I could not ignore.

  Why did you come here, dad? What were you looking for? What was worth leaving me alone sooner than you had to?

  I wiped my face, clenched my jaw as tight as I could. Maybe I would find something in this game to shed some light on my father’s last months, weeks and days. A finger of cold doubt wormed its way into my heart. Throwing my qualms, anger, and a string of shattered promises to the wind, I spoke the words I’d been burning to say, “Log on to Tol Online…”

  A world coalesced around me. How strange, to suddenly be standing in a field of grass, a warm breeze rustling rough spun clothes on my body. I smelled leaves, and soil, and sun. I wriggled my toes and felt the soles of burlap boots. My hair was tight on my scalp. I lifted a hand to find a topknot formed above my skull. A few strands of my bangs hung across my cheeks and stirred in the wind. This was it. Flaming Tol online! I was about to take a step when a system alert brought me out of my reverie. “Uploading item. Please wait!”

  I had forgotten my sword. A weight pulled at my left hand, a blade forming out of thin air as I watched. My katana was here. The blade and tang formed in my palms. I waited for the hilt, scabbard and hand guard to form. I waited for several moments, but no tsuka, no saya, no tsuba formed. What the haymaker! I was in a fantastic new world, I had my sword, but it was little more than an overpowered razor blade…

  CHAPTER TWO

  “A SLIME DRAWS near”

  ~Sensei Horii

  Relevant Progress of Hana Kotoba

  Status: Noobish, In-over-your-head, Squishy.

  Class: Naturalist, Limited Skill and Foresight.

  Items: One piece of a very fine sword, clothes (if you can call them that), a blank map, fire stone, water, and a pouch to carry it all in.

  To Do: Stumble about in a new world. Stay alive if possible. Learn to forget things.

  Another system warning flashed before my eyes as I held up my sword to inspect its gleaming length.

  “You have uploaded an ancient and magical item. Its quality is legendary and unique. As a beginner in Tol online,

  such an advantage is unfair to other players. The various pieces of the katana have been scattered across the

  realm.You have the option to craft the remaining pieces of your sword to accompany your blade or search for them

  in the world abroad. Each addition of an original piece will restore some of the sword’s power and magical

  abilities.”

  “Mother of hashbrowns!” I screamed. There goes my plan for having an uber cool weapon to aid me in leveling up. “Hotsauce and handgrenades!” I tried again. Okay, so I wasn’t good at swearing. If I dropped even an accidental curse word, my face would light up in a blush so bright it could be seen a league away. My parents used to be the same.

  The split thought of my parents filled me with an old dread. My mother leaving us so suddenly. Then my father. “In the process of repaying debts procured by AllHands Inc.,” the words on the letter ran before my eyes before I forcibly pushed them away. I did not have the time or the energy to go there.

  I inspected the blade, and an unobtrusive icon appeared. I wasn’t sure if I could touch it, but as I thought of doing so, a list of characteristics popped up.

  The Katana Kotoba- Quality Legendary +50% to damage, Durability 200/200, 50-300 damage - 0/9 bindings

  Status- Unbound Blade- 200% reduction in damage. Chance to injury self +300%

  Parts collected: 1/10 - blade and tang (nagasa and nakago)

  Parts missing: 9/10 - tsuka (handle), ito (braid), same (ray skin handle wrap), kashira (pommel), tsuba (guard), habaki and fuchi (blade and handle collars), saya (sheath), sageo (hanging cord), menuki (ornaments).

  Blarg. That figures. Well, I did still have one heck of a sharp stick. As it was, though, it was as dangerous to me as it was to any potential enemy. I slid it through my belt and held the blunted end, making sure the blade was pointing away from me.

  I looked around. My God, the world was vast. The sun was high in the sky and there was plenty to do.

  A conveniently placed road sign was just a few dozen paces ahead. I nearly tripped on a
small sack, also made of burlap, which was sitting on the ground before me. A quick glance inside showed me a few basic items. There was a piece of flint, a too-small water skin, one apple, and a map. I opened this and saw that it was completely blank except for a picture of the road sign.

  I strode forward to read it. One arm pointed in the same way I had headed. It read Taelman's Pond 6 Leagues. A second hand pointed back to where I had come from and read Bridgerun 72 Leagues. The third arm pointed off to one side and read simply Lorinand Forest. There was no distance marker, but when I looked where the sign pointed, I could see trees begin to clump together less than a hundred feet away. I walked toward the forest.

  As a player in the Hunter Class tree, I began as a Naturalist. Basically, I had just a few crude foresting skills that could keep me going until I could level up to Survivalist, then finally Novice Hunter. After that was Hunter. I wanted to get there as fast as possible. Not only would it unlock a bunch of skills I would need as an Earner, but there was a class tree split after Hunter that I was excited to see. Tol had kept any info about higher level Classes under lock and key, so I had no idea what came next.

  I approached trees that seemed familiar even though I could not recall ever seeing them. They were like maple trees in the structure of their branches and leaves, yet they had bark like an aspen and were taller and more majestic than either. I came to the first in the grove and ran a hand over its bark. I was expecting a rough texture, but was surprised with a smooth surface, almost like skin. It was silver and seemed to gleam in the failing light. I glanced up and was startled by the explosion of yellow gold.

  “By Beorne’s beard!” I shouted. “Mallorn trees!”