Team Newb

  Team Newb

  M. Helbig

  Copyright © 2019 by M. Helbig

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Printed in the United States of America

  First Printing, October 2019

  Contents

  1. One More Death, Then You Can Eat

  2. You’d Laugh If It Hadn’t Happened to You

  3. Imps, Orcs, and Newbs

  4. Well, That’s One Way to Learn About Combat

  5. If The Clothes Make the Man, What Does This Used Sack Say About Me?

  6. Run Away! Fluffy Bunnies!

  7. Olaf, Tiny Slayer of Tiny Wolves

  8. Quest 1: Kill 5 Mobs. Quest 2: Kill 10 More. Quest 3: Screw It. I’m Killing the Quest NPC

  9. There’s a Twist in My Quest. Get it Out!

  10. I Clearly Detailed That On Row Thirty-Seven of Spreadsheet Forty-Three Where It Says “Welcome to the Group”

  11. It’s a Different Quest With a Ring, I Swear

  12. Deadly Shenanigans

  13. Spelunking 4 the L00tz

  14. We Fight for Some of the Marbles

  15. Rolling in the Profit

  16. Getting Classy

  17. Behold Magic! And Flames! And . . . What Level Do I Learn the Fire Extinguisher Spell?

  18. Part-Time Warrior Poet, Full-Time Instigator

  19. Decrona Explains It All

  20. This Plain Sucks

  21. Tiny Hats! How Cu . . . Oww!

  22. More Kobolds, More . . . What’s the Opposite of Fun?

  23. Lord Horus of the Kobolds

  24. Dun-Dun-Dungeon!

  25. Castle of Forbidden Forbiddenness

  26. For the Love of God, Would Someone say “Action!”

  27. Definitely Not Bat-Man

  28. Running Out of Bat-Themed Villains Here

  29. Alizia + Tavern = I Think You Know Where This Is Going

  30. No, The Other Other Fat, Bald Guy With the Weaselly Laugh & Penchant For Murder

  31. An Elf and A Lobster Walk Into a City . . .

  32. Ways to Travel Faster Than a Horse Can Without Getting Crapped On

  33. The Meeting Wasn’t Secret. I Just Didn’t Want You to Know About It

  34. The Surprise? It Won’t Exactly Be Worth It, But It Won’t Not Be Worth It

  35. The Scion Will Protect Us. Now, Who Was It That Was Going to Protect Him?

  36. The Land the Developers Forgot

  37. Where Did I Put the Plan For How I Was Going to Come Up With the Plan?

  38. If You’re the Betrayer of My Betrayer, That Makes You My Fr . . . No, Wait. Guy I Don’t Let Borrow My Hedge Clippers

  39. Don’t Scream. It’s Only Me, Your Death

  40. So That’s Why There’s No Deodorant in This Game

  41. The Golden Hole That’s Neither Golden Nor a Hole

  Character Sheets

  One More Death, Then You Can Eat

  The steady thud of arrows peppered my shield for the third time that day. Once again, they ended as abruptly as they began. Sweat poured from everywhere, and my nerves were close to shot, yet I couldn’t wait for them to start up again. They were the only things drowning out the distant screams from farther down the line.

  As I readied my shield for the fourth round, a great, savage war cry came from a few hundred feet in front of me. Finally, something different. The enemy forces were coming, and they couldn’t have come soon enough. I was tired, hungry and completely out of patience. I didn’t have to pee, though. Glass half full, right?

  Fortunately, patience wasn’t in my opponents’ vocabulary. A tall, green-skinned creature pointed his clawed hand toward me and shot a blast of something red and beautiful at me. I could almost smell the burning. So pretty. It was less pretty when it melted through my shield and took off twenty percent of my health. I’d just got that shield too.

  This isn’t real, I told myself yet again. I didn’t need to, as my dad’s excited yell made the point for me a second later.

  “You need to dodge that, kiddo.”

  Totally broke the immersion, but that’s what parents were for. They give you an awesome game then find a way to make it not fun. Hard to believe you’re in a hyper-realistic fantasy game when your dad’s sitting next to you playing armchair general and color commentator.

  “If I dodge the next one, can I eat dinner?”

  I felt stupid not using a controller or a keyboard. Sure, these more realistic games—where you used your mind to move like you do in real life—had existed since before I was born, but I’d always liked the old-school games where I could take advantage of my fantastic hand-eye coordination and not have to worry about my lesser (OK, pathetic) physical abilities.

  The orc in front of me scratched his head in confusion at my comment. Not wanting to waste an opening like that, I stabbed him in the gut—the orc, not my dad, though that thought was tempting as well. The orc snarled in pain as I yanked up sharply on the blade, revealing yellowed teeth and at least one cavity.

  If this hero thing didn’t work out, I could always go into orc dentistry. Surely a lucrative profession, though since orcs probably hadn’t heard of anger management classes, it probably wasn’t any safer than being an adventurer.

  “Honey, he shouldn’t have to dodge if he doesn’t want to,” my mom said. “Dinner’s going to get cold soon, anyway.”

  As the orc slumped to the ground, I pulled my blade free. Almost immediately, another blast shot toward me from an identical orc. No, scratch that, his sash was on the other side. I think his cavity was too. This time I barely managed to dodge, though I dropped my sword in the process.

  My dad slapped me on the back, causing me to stumble both in and out of game. “Now you’re getting it.”

  “Yay!” my sister squealed. “You’re not an idiot, Lucas.”

  “Shut up, Lilly. I've never played this thing.”

  “Now watch out for his axe!” Dad said.

  “What axe—yow!” The axe whizzed past my face, nearly cleaving it in half. My ear wasn’t so lucky. I could feel the blood pouring down the side of my head and into my heavy plate-chest piece.

  “Did you see that?” Dad said. “Look how realistic this thing is. The way the blood is spraying out, I’ll bet you feel like your head is on fire.”

  As soon as I thought about healing, a glass vial appeared in my hand. I took a swig of the healing potion as two of the NPC soldiers nearby speared the orc from each side.

  “Yeah, Dad, this is great. Everyone loves getting to feel it when parts of their body get removed in a game.”

  “This is only the home demo version. In the real version you can feel it more . . . Oh, you said you didn't like that. You can turn the pain filters off if you want. In the real version, I mean.”

  “Sissy,” Lilly said.

  I ignored my bratty sister as I tossed the empty potion away and picked up my blade. It seemed like my side was winning despite my contribution as mostly a distraction. The graphics were incredible. It felt like I was really on that battlefield. I could hear the screams of the dying, the ear-ringing clash of blades, the explosive blasts of magic, and the clang of armored bodies as they rushed about. The smell of sweat, burning, and death, I could do without. I could even feel the pangs of hunger.

  “Speaking of feeling, Dad, can I feel my dinner going down my throat?”

  “You can! And it even tastes better than the real thing. Oh, you mean in real life. Just three more minutes, then we can eat.”

  I grumbled as a towering, gray-green monstrosity with a lone arm long
er than its body thundered into view. My legs wobbled as it lumbered forward, pausing only to swat anyone foolish enough to get within its reach. I gulped as I pointed my shaking sword arm toward it. How did they expect someone in a level-twenty-demo avatar to take on that thing?

  “Cast a spell at it, son! Trollgres are susceptible to ice.” The couch bounced much like the ground in game as my dad jumped up and down.

  “Mecca lecca hi mecca hiney ho.” I did a pirouette and twinkled my fingers extra hard.

  “Oh, my God,” Lilly said between sobs of laughter. “That—Why didn’t I record this?”

  “I meant select a spell from the options,” Dad said. “What was that?”

  “My version of casting a spell, which is kind of like your version of eating dinner, meaning it doesn't work,” I muttered as I fumbled through the options, finally finding the “Freeze” spell. The spell landed squarely in the Trollgre’s chest, living up to its name as the smelly, potbellied giant became paralyzed right in the middle of a swing that looked like it’d knock me several zip codes away for the peasants there to deal with my burial.

  “You won’t have to look for it next time,” Dad said. “Just think ‘Freeze’ and you’ll cast it automatically. In the real game, you’d automatically know your spells, though.”

  “Good to know.” I stared up at the ten-foot-tall snowman statue and began to chip at it ineffectually with my sword. “Now what do I do?”

  “Oh, this is the best part! Just stand there and you’ll see.”

  Lilly giggled. “Unless he marries that thing and they star in a sitcom, I don’t see how that’s possible.”

  Shards of ice exploded from the beast, knocking me to the ground and blinding me for several seconds. Even before my vision returned, I knew I was going to die. The deep, reptilian screech threatened to take several of the more fragile ornaments off my parents’ wall. At least Lilly stopped laughing. My vision returned barely long enough to see the inside of the massive mouth. The diamond-like teeth tore me to shreds. Fortunately my death was swift, and since I died, the demo simulation’s pain sensors turned off, saving me from feeling like I’d been thrown in a woodchipper.

  I took off the headset and breathed a sigh of relief.

  My dad jumped up and down in excitement. “Wasn't that great? Just like being there. Sorry about tricking you at the end, but we put the dragon in there as an end point. You wouldn’t have been able to avoid it no matter what you did.”

  As much as I loved to see my dad happy, I couldn’t share his enthusiasm. Mom’s casserole smelled delicious, and he’d been talking about this game non-stop since I was born. Probably before that too. But when your livelihood depends on a game, you tend to get pretty excited about it. He and his team had put a lot of work into the demo, and it was much more realistic than any of the previous ones.

  “Yeah, it’s great, Dad,” I deadpanned.

  I’d heard the real game was even better but was neither brave enough nor desperate enough to try it. Sun & Shadow Online (S&S) wasn’t the only VR MMORPG out there—there were close to fifty last I’d heard—but it had been the most successful by a mile. When my dad was in his twenties, it was even more successful than its ten closest competitors combined. That was when Pyrite Games came up with the idea of converting in-game winnings into actual money. People paid real money to enter the game, and if they did well inside, came back out with a fortune. True, the vast majority of people came out with nothing, but the news didn’t like to talk about that. They only liked to talk about the winners. Just like the lottery.

  As usual, Dad heard what he wanted. “I know, right? This demo is sure to crush Chang’s project. His last one might have made Pyrite a decent chunk of change by transferring dying rich people’s consciousness into the game permanently—along with all of their money—but his new one doesn’t have nearly the revenue potential.”

  With so much competition, my dad and his team had been tasked with regaining S&S’s market share. This new demo would help, but I didn’t have the heart to tell him it wouldn’t be enough. What made the game special back then was the Trium. They’d forged the first legendary weapons, took down the first dragon, and then the first god. Nothing seemed impossible for them. Some of the things they did still hadn’t been replicated. Who takes on two raid bosses at once with only three people?

  They had been everywhere. Talk shows sent people into the game to interview them. Hundreds of streaming channels dedicated to just them. What would they do next? How would they do it? What were they wearing? Who were they dating?

  Apps. Shoes. Conventions. Stuffed animals. Movies. Streaming shows. And then they disappeared. The game thrived as people signed over their life savings just to enter and try to find them. There were multiple rewards posted that topped out at probably more than the trio ever made in game, but no one ever found them. New stars have come since then, but none like those three. And unless my dad’s new demo could locate them, then he was down for another disappointment.

  Mashed potatoes splattered onto my plate as my dad thumped the headset down.

  “Frank!” Mom said. “Not at the dinner table. You know the rules.”

  “Sorry, dear.” Dad sheepishly picked it up and set it under his chair. “No work at dinner. Talk or demos.”

  They’d made up that rule when I moved away and avoided visiting. When they confronted me, I told them Dad’s constant talk of work was the reason. Now that he doesn’t, I discovered that my dad is actually a pretty nice guy. Who knew? Now if only I could get them to not bring up school . . .

  “Lucas, how are your engineering classes going?” Mom asked.

  “I switched to computer science.”

  “I thought you tried computer science last year?” Dad asked between shovelfuls of food.

  Lilly smirked. “No, that was Computer History, which was before Art History and the History of Ballet.”

  I playfully punched her in the arm. “I did not do the History of Ballet. Oh, wait. I did, but that wasn’t before Art History. Speaking of which, Lilly, how are things going with your boyfriend, Art?”

  “Art?” Mom asked. “Who is this ‘Art’ boy?”

  “Doesn’t matter. I broke up with him when I found out he was too short.” Lilly pushed her plate away.

  Mom, being a veteran of all things Lilly, picked up her plate and took it to the kitchen, directing Lilly to follow. “In one of your games or in real life?”

  “Doesn’t matter. I’ve refined my search criteria and have several other potential applicants.”

  “Well, as long as you’re learning, dear, but remember to add in skill with both shooters and platform jumping, smells nice, and picks a handsome avatar, so you don’t make those mistakes again.”

  “Moooom! I’m not an idiot. I did learn from the last three.” Lilly picked up the casserole dish and took it into the kitchen.

  I thought about chasing after her but decided the potatoes looked just as good and scooped another helping onto my plate.

  Dad wiped his chin as he eyed me taking thirds. “Son, do you need any money? As much as I love your mother’s cooking, no one likes potatoes that much.”

  I sighed. My parents always found an excuse to try to give me money. It was great that Dad had done so well for himself, but I was determined to make my own way in this world. Sure, it’d taken me a lot longer than most, but I knew I’d figure it out eventually. “No thanks, Dad. I do have a job.”

  Dad patted me on the back. “You’re a good man. But if you ever need it, your mother and I are here for you.”

  I absorbed myself in finishing my potatoes, and fortunately he took the hint and let the subject drop. We finished clearing the table and joined Lilly and Mom in the kitchen. It was a normal evening just like any other.

  You’d Laugh If It Hadn’t Happened to You

  As Mom and Lilly left to go shopping, I tried to duck out with them. It was rude, but Dad always wanted me to stay to catch up on the latest streaming news for
S&S. I did love him, but after the demo, watching more of that game—no matter what awesome things Typhonious or The Squeak Twins had done—was toward the bottom of my list.

  “Wanna watch a movie, kiddo? I’ll even watch one of those re-animators you like. How about the one with Adam Sandler, Jerry Lewis, and Harpo Marx, or the one with Zack Galifianakis, John Belushi, and Lucile Ball? Always seemed ghoulish to edit clips of dead people together, but I know how much you like them.”

  I hadn’t been into those since I was a teenager, but it was nice that he was trying. “Sorry, Dad. I’ve got some studying to do tonight.”

  His face deflated as he patted me on the back. “Right, school comes first. Maybe next week?”

  “Sure.” I shook his hand and hurried out the door to my car.

  As I fumbled for my keys, a sudden wave of guilt hit me. Dad wasn’t asking me to do anything game related, and it’d been months since I spent any time with him. Plus, with all the hours he put in at work, he didn’t really have any friends unless you counted his weasel second-in-command, Carl.

  I put the keys back in my pocket and decided to watch a silly movie with him, just like when I was a kid—after I emptied my bladder. Not sure where that wave came from, but I was seconds away from doing the “pee-pee dance.” I snuck in the back and scurried to the bathroom. I probably should’ve shouted to Dad that I was back, but I had only one thing on my mind.