“Yes,” I said over the shouts. “Please do. I would be most grateful.”
As he attended to me, I looked up at those who crowded around, pressing up against my space. From the myriad of words and phrases thrown at me I came to the following conclusion.
They thought I was a very bad person. Very, very bad. I needed to die. Now, and preferably quick. I was a FILTERED of a FILTERing FILTERED as well, which I thought was just plain mean to say.
But I had enough. From an icon at the side of my view-screen I went into my game settings. Then I selected ‘MUTE OTHER PLAYERS’. A prompt popped up, ‘EXEMPT FRIENDS LIST AND NPCs’? I answered yes.
To those all around me, the image of a large ear appeared above my head which in turn had a red line slashed across it. Now I didn’t have to hear anyone speak, or even receive chat requests.
The effect was immediate, and my world went blessedly quiet. Players threw themselves around and jumped up and down. This had only enraged them further, but I didn’t have to hear any of it.
Then I selected ‘AWAY FROM GAME’.
Instead of a symbol, a white translucent vector box was drawn around me. My avatar, now encased, went still and my eyes closed.
I could still see fine. But now the others knew I would not engage them in any way. The possibility now existed I could be away from the game for a long time. What would they do then?
While I let them ponder that amongst themselves in the civil manner I expected, I pulled up my chat menu and pinged Mudhoof. As I waited my heart was in my chest. What he had done was amazingly selfless.
And creative, too.
Mudhoof, for whatever reason, did not answer my chat request. I tried not to read too much into it. Maybe he was tired after the fight and was taking a break, away from the game. Or maybe he was ticked off with me because now he had to level up in the newbie zone, yet again. Something he was famous for.
I shook my head. He would be in touch when he’s ready.
From my inventory I removed the Teleport Token.
Get to Thorm, Mudhoof had said.
Thorm might be the only other true friend I had, besides Mudhoof. We’d all adventured together countless times. All of it fun. Would he be interested in a suicide mission to find and kill Ogden Trite?
A quick scan of my short (but distinguished) friends list showed Thorm was currently online. Selecting his name brought up more detailed information on what he was up too.
Questing in Farewell Falls on planet Orkrin.
Even on his own quest I knew Thorm would drop everything to come help me. Did I want to impose on him with something this big? Add to this that I did not want to see yet another one of my friends end up re-rolling because of me.
But did I have a choice?
From the safety of the Away From Game vector box I spied on the surrounding players. There were so many now they filled the chamber from wall to wall, and even out the main entrance. The town would now be packed with bounty hunters all hoping to be the one who would claim the bounty on my head.
I wasn’t going anywhere. Logging out was not an option. Such a tactic was beneath my code of gamer-ethics. I would not hide from a fight by leaving the game then returning much later to see if anyone was still around. The very thought was repugnant. Why even bother playing the game if you would stoop to such cowardly tactics?
But, even though I wouldn’t hide from a fight, didn’t mean I wouldn’t run from one.
I thumbed the Token in my hand.
Might as well just ask Thorm if he was interested. Couldn’t hurt.
I sent him a chat request.
While I waited I noticed a group of players moving aggressively around the Temple chamber. It was obvious several groups where arguing over me, but couldn’t hurt each other here. Instead, they yelled and screamed. To me it all played out like a silent movie.
There was little doubt that fights were going on outside in the square. And all over who would have the honor of killing me.
Sighing, I watched as the players slid around each other in pathetic attempts of intimidation. I don’t mind being popular, but this was ridiculous. Removing this bounty once and for all was my only hope.
A chat acceptance sound brought me out of my gloomy thoughts. I opened the chat screen in front of me. Thankfully, the vector box masked my activities.
The face of Thorm filled my view. Human, and handsome, with a bristly blond mustache which covered his mouth, Thorm embodied the very best of character customization. I will admit I found his avatar attractive, even though I hadn’t a clue what Thorm, the player, looked like in real life.
“Miss Valesh,” Thorm rumbled, his voice was low and deep. “Always a pleasure.” Although I could not see any details of his surroundings, it looked as if he was resting against a tree.
“And to you as well,” I said. “You’re questing now? Am I bothering you?”
“Ah, on the verge of completing the last quest in a chain,” he said and his avatar winced in pain. “But the final boss has proven a tad ornery. Refuses to die. Quite rude of him. Wiped my entire party out, except for me.”
“You’re hurt!” I said, alarmed. “I’ll come to you, just hang on.”
Thorm shook his head, sunlight reflecting off his silver helmet. “Do not bother, Vivian. I’m down to my last sliver of health, and the end boss is off somewhere regenerating his. It’s only a matter of time before he comes back to finish the job.”
“Not gonna happen, Thorm,” I said while holding up the Teleport Token for him to see. “I have a one-way ticket, and I’m going to use it. Besides, I need your help, too. Maybe we can trade?” The last was said in a teasing manner. Thorm didn’t trade favors with friends, he simply helped them.
Thorm was about to respond when a shout off-screen snagged his attention. I could not make out the words, but it sounded Orcish.
“Well, Vivian,” Thorm said. “If you wanted to visit, now would be a good time to do so.”
Not needing any more encouragement, I closed the chat screen. The healer had finished attending to my wounds and stood close by. I stood up.
My ‘Away From Game’ vector box vanished, and several dozen players turned from their arguments to look in my direction.
To the healer I said, “I’ll take a stack of five Health Boosts, too, please.”
After paying him, along with a little extra for his healing, I turned my attention to the idiot show around me.
I made a point of holding the Token up for all of them to see. This elicited a torrent of muted rage, of which I could only imagine how creative the insults became. How dare I teleport away from overwhelming odds and a certain death. Ha!
With the Token keyed in on Thorm, I grinned at the angry players around me. With a wave goodbye, I pinched the Token hard, activating it.
My vision of the Temple’s chamber shimmered, and in the next moment, it was gone.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Teleport Tokens key in on other people, with their permission; players and NPCs alike. So when the shimmering on my view-screen stopped I found myself standing next to Thorm.
I was in a forest not far from a cave entrance in a hill. Thorm sat on the ground, leaning up against a huge oak tree. He smiled at my arrival.
“Welcome to the fun zone,” the Holy Knight said. His brilliantly shiny silver armor was heavily tarnished with dirt and blood. Several dents told of intense combat. A large white kite shield was propped up next to him, its surface gashed.
Hastily, I squatted next to him. “Looks like you’ve had enough fun for one day,” I said. His health was down to twenty percent. I pulled out a Health Boost and tried to hand it to him.