The Bathrobe Knight Read online

  Not that Robert hated music or the people he worked with. He just found it rather impossible on most days to focus and accomplish anything meaningful with so much going on around him. The truth was he loved joking around as much as the next guy; but, he also loved his work and that often meant staying over long hours into the night to finish his projects on time. There was something about the quiet solitude of a cavernous room and the lulling sound of machinery and computer fans that really let him focus and get into his work. Since beta testing had begun a few months ago, he seemed to be spending more and more time at night tapping away at the keys to his computer trying to get everything to work right. As with any program, no matter how well constructed, faults were inevitable. That's what the beta was for--finding out all the bugs and quirks from development and closed testing and figuring out how they would be fixed before the launch date. A launch date that was quickly approaching.

  Robert clicked the button to save his work and began the process of pushing his newest changes to the live servers. "I don't know how in the Hell these kids keep causing so many problems?" he thought to himself as he sighed and arched his back in the computer chair, listening to the sound of his vertebrae crack under the stretching movement. A few weeks ago after beta testing began, one particular clan had figured out a way to exploit a design flaw that would allow someone to duplicate items by transferring them rapidly between the bank vault and the player’s Inventory. The code controlling the process was pretty shoddy, and there wasn't a redundancy check in place to prevent an item from existing in both places at the same time. The result was a massive influx of gold into an economy that had previously been fairly stable. Fortunately, another developer had caught on quickly as to what was going on when he watched market prices skyrocket suddenly and had implemented a hotfix designed to take care of the problem.

  Unfortunately for Robert, however, it wasn't a permanent solution. Players caught on quickly that something was up, and over the past few weeks more and more people were trying to recreate the original dupe, causing massive lag as the game and servers tried to check every item that was transferred between the players’ inventories and the bank vault. The result was a game server that kept sporadically crashing at the worst of times and lag that made the game unplayable at others. Turns out that lagging in a virtual world wasn’t only disorienting, it left players feeling like they had just walked off one of the most nauseating roller coasters known to man. Reports of players retching up their mom’s spaghetti were piling up at a rapid rate, and that wasn’t going to cut it. Even though latency issues were expected in other games, this was the exact reason the company had chosen to invest so much money into an experimental AI that was designed by the military. The government had been using the AI as a combat simulator for years to train fighter pilots and combat infantry and was supposed to run flawlessly.

  Robert had spent most of the night hunched forward in his seat making corrections to another programmer’s code, eyes darting back and forth across the lines as he found and made the necessary corrections to finally fix the error once and for all. Now his body was paying the price. His eyes burned from straining to see tiny rows of text on the bright monitor in an otherwise dark room, and his back felt like that of a man twice his age. Finally got it this time, he thought as the server begin rebooting for what he knew would be the final time necessary to fix the problem. Damn trolls are going to hate me for taking away their fun with this one. Robert’s final revisions not only fixed the dupe and prevented server stability problems, but contained the final revisions that would fully adapt the new AI to the preexisting world.

  Darwin:

  It had been over nine hours since they entered the forest together in search of victims and Darwin had almost forgotten that Kass was actually a person and not a magic ice ball dispenser. In all his games as Arch Lance Ser NightVale, he had never really been great at playing in groups. Even when he went on raids, he only gave necessary orders or stayed quiet. It was probably one of the reasons many people liked him leading instead of the over-talkative chatty cathies. It wasn’t that he didn’t have a lot of things he wanted to say. It was just that when he started grinding or killing in games, he would get so focused on the task at hand that he would forget the people around him weren’t just tools, much like he had already forgotten about Kass not being merely an ice ball dispenser.

  It would have probably been another two or three hours before either of them said anything if it weren’t for Kass’s curiosity finally getting the better of her. “So, why the Bathrobe?”

  “Huh? Oh, the Bathrobe. It’s just what I was wearing when I got here.”

  “Really? You started with a Bathrobe? I thought Warrior classes started with Studded Leather Armor. Did you buy a special edition game copy and dive platform?”

  “No, I don’t think so. Maybe a glitch.”

  “The AI system that does the codes is peerless. There aren’t any glitches. If you have a physical combat job class then you should have Studded Leather Armor,” Kass pressed the issue further.

  “My Job Class is Novice. Is that a physical combat-based class?”

  “Novice?” Kass asked, pausing for a few minutes as she stared at him. “Wow! Your class really is Novice, and even your race isn’t listed. What weapon did you start off with? Maybe that is a good place to start.”

  “A Spoon . . .”

  “The Spoon you threw at the Minotaur when we met?”

  “Yes. It helped me kill the man that had the Axe I used to kill the Minotaur to get these Axes.”

  “You killed an armored man with an Axe using a Spoon?”

  “Yes.” Darwin smiled as he answered, glad he had managed to find and pick up the souvenir. Without that little Spoon he probably would have died. He couldn’t just let it disappear now.

  “. . .”

  “What Job Class did you start as?”

  “Me? I picked a Wizard for my Job Class. I switched to the subclass Frost Mage as soon as I hit Level 5 though. That’s why my Dress is so pretty and white,” she said, doing a twirl to show off.

  “Ah. Then maybe when I promote to a Job Class, I’ll get a bonus. How do you do that?”

  “Just find a trainer who teaches the class you want, and if you have the right stats and level, it will let you switch. Also, sometimes a hidden requirement is met, and the system will prompt you as to whether or not you want to change your class. You’re Level 26 now, so you should easily be able to find a trainer.”

  “Do you know where a good melee trainer is?”

  “Yeah. There are plenty in the town I’m bound to. We have at least 10 White-Horn subjugation quest completions to turn in, so maybe we can kill a few more and go there for the reward. I never thought we’d level this fast, so I’m almost hesitant to leave.”

  “Maybe I can buy some clothes too.”

  “Are you tired of being the Bathrobe Knight?” she poked.

  “. . .” Darwin didn’t know how to respond. He knew she was trying to be funny and that he should probably laugh, but it embarrassed him a bit to think about how ridiculous he probably looked. The blood from the fights had turned his green Bathrobe into something of a Christmas color collage with several different shades of fresh red on some spots and dried brown blood on others all painted over the robe’s original forest green.

  “Don’t blush, Bathrobe Knight,” she giggled. His face must have turned red from embarrassment. “You’ll be the first person to hit 30 without even a decent class.” She kept laughing, but he only frowned. He somehow knew from years of being picked on at school that the nickname ‘Bathrobe Knight’ would probably stick.

  Darwin tried not to think about it as they dove back into combat. When they had started off, the two of them were picking off groups of Minotaurs one at a time and kiting them to prevent full engagements. It made sense too since each Minotaur was around level 25. Now though, as Darwin could finally see, having turned on name, hp and level bars, Darwin and Kass were almo
st the same level and very used to fighting side by side. They didn’t bother with fighting them one at a time anymore and charged right into full groups of five to ten Minotaurs.

  One group dead. Two groups dead. Three groups dead. Not even half an hour later, after Darwin had hit 27, he began to notice that the amount of EXP he was getting per kill was drastically less than it had been before. Each level past level 12 required roughly 5,000 more EXP than the level before, but at 550 EXP per kill, their growth had been really fast. It was just that ever since they had reached Level 20, the amount, 550, had started dropping each level for Darwin. Darwin suspected that either the game designers had intended the early levels to fly by or that they themselves weren’t supposed to be in the area. After all, when Kass first showed up on the scene she was running for her life, and she was level 11.

  It left a lot of questions for Darwin. What was she doing out here alone to begin with if she couldn’t hack it without help? How had he managed to kill the Minotaurs at level 5? Who was the guy with the Dull Iron Axe? Was he a PC? Had he killed another person? So many questions, but none of them were as important as the question that the slow-growing EXP bar forced him to ask: “Is there anything that is a higher level? I’m not really getting anything anymore.”

  “Yeah, but the White-Horn’s legion is probably close to being dead. Wanna finish the NPCs off before we leave?”

  “Sure.” Darwin said it in as positive a manner as he could, but he was secretly grumbling. He wanted to tell her that it would be way more time efficient to go right away, but he didn’t want to argue. The little snow cone factory was the only source of information he had in this new world, and he knew from plenty of experience that when two party members differed in opinion on how to level, the party dissolved.

  “Good. Now back to it, Bathrobe Knight. I want to be the first Frost Mage to hit 30!” It’s definitely going to stick. Wait, what? The first? So that’s why she stayed out here after the troops died: she wanted to farm the high level mobs and outlevel her competition. That means the game hasn’t been out long. “How long has the game been out again?”

  “Oh! It’s been out just since Monday this week. I’m surprised you didn’t have the date memorized with how expensive the VR dive kits are. I wouldn’t even have one if my dad didn’t get it for me. Did you pull an all nighter and forget what day it was again?”

  “Something like that. You could say it’s been a long week.”

  “Bathrobe Knight, don’t act so serious. It’s a game. Have some fun. If you keep making that face I’m going to throw a Spoon at you.”

  “. . .” He was about to try his hand at a witty remark when he noticed something great. “Is that the only group of Minotaurs left?”

  “What? Oh, that sucks. I thought we’d have plenty of killing ahead of us.”

  I knew it! She did want us to keep killing these low-experience mobs.

  “Well, let’s do it! I bet the King’s bounty on this one will be crazy. I’ll be able to buy like 15 new Dresses and accessories with just the turn-ins alone! “

  “15 Dresses? Can you equip more than one Dress at a time”

  “What? You are totally a man. You need different Dresses for different occasions. Don’t you know anything?”

  “Probably not.”

  “Well, now you do, and if you had known it a bit sooner, you might have had more outfits than just one Bathrobe. You should buy a few outfits too after you get your armor.”

  “Maybe I will. Where do we turn these things in again?”

  “Oh, it’s in the town I’m bound to. Valcrest. The turn-in guy is Captain Elmont. You can find him near the Tavern on the north side of the town. It’s not hard to find. If I have to log before we get back, you shouldn’t have a problem finding it. Actually, after we kill this group, I’m probably going to log. Here, add me so we can find each other easily.”

  You have received a friend request from Kass. Would you like to Accept or Reject?

  Accept. “Sounds great. Let’s make this count then.” Darwin charged right at the final group of Minotaurs. He had hundreds of Axes somehow magically stored in his Inventory, so he didn’t hesitate to throw them as he ran towards the group, enjoying the site of them cleaving into the Minotaur’s bodies, and then re-equipping the next Axe. He could always just pull the Axes out of the bodies when the fight was over, but if he didn’t throw them, then there was a chance he might not get as much action in the fight. While she might have only been worth at most one or two ice balls here or there at the start of their adventure, Kass had actually started doing cool stuff by the time she hit Level 20. During the last fight, for instance, she had slammed her staff into the ground shooting out giant cones of frigid air at the enemy. It hadn’t frozen them like her ice ball, but it had clearly done a lot of Damage and didn’t take as absurdly long to cast in combat.

  By the time Darwin reached the group, his Axes had already found 5 homes, and he had no problem cleaving the the first three Minotaurs left in the group. After all, they were already frozen. After pulling his Axe free of the third one, he charged at the final Minotaur. He had to kill it, and he had to kill it quickly before Kass got it--a man has his pride after all. The Minotaur swung in the same way they all did, a good long clean horizontal arc in front of him. He used his left Axe like a shield taking the hit as he swung his right Axe into the neck of the Minotaur.

  Critical Hit! You have done 256 Damage!

  Critical Hit! You have done 256 Damage!

  The first one was for him, the second for the Minotaur. The fight was over. They had wiped out every Minotaur in the area. Darwin was glad that they didn’t respawn, too, because if they had, he was sure Kass would have kept him here for months doing the 1 EXP per kill grind. Some players just couldn’t be bothered to switch farming spots.

  “Welp! That’s it! I gotta run before my dad gets home and finds out I didn’t go to bed last night. Who could though, right? I spent all week only getting 10 levels and we are about to hit 30 after turn-ins!”

  “Yeah. It’s been good for me too. Thanks for teaching me the ropes. I’ll see you around, Kass.” He waved goodbye at her, but he wasn’t entirely sure what would happen when she logged out.

  “Bye-bye, Bathroom Knight!” she said, doing one final twirl, and then her smiling face just disappeared. She didn’t instantly disappear like the image on a TV when the power button was pressed. It was like her body had just been a cloud of smoke all along, and it dispersed into its surroundings leaving nothing but a hint that a person might have been there before.

  Your friend Kass has logged offline.

  ‘Your friend’--those are two words I don’t remember hearing together in forever. Oh well. Where is this town I have to go to? Tiqpa Map! During the walking time between fights over the last few hours Darwin had gotten very familiar with the controls of the game. He was sure there was something he didn’t know yet, but for now he was confident enough in his knowledge to avoid another tutorial.

  Valcrest is at least an hour from here on foot. Looks like I’m going to have a long walk ahead of me. Darwin finished re-looting the Axes he had thrown and started towards Valcrest. Time to get my Job Class! I wonder how many classes there actually are.

  Qasin:

  The King adjusted his Crown as he sat in his chair across from the Messenger he had taken prisoner earlier that day. With his finely-tailored, Three-Piece Purple Suit, Red Cape and emerald-crested gold Crown, his appearance didn’t fit in with the drab, gray, color-drained stones that lay around him. It didn’t fit in with many places at all though.

  “Do you know why you’re here, soldier?” he asked the man chained across from him. The soldier had been stripped of his armor and left with only a pair of ragged cloth breeches that could scarcely be called clothes. The color seemed to somehow be an even duller gray than the stones in the prison where the man was chained. His hands were cuffed behind his back and each foot was locked in place with a chain attached to shackles and
threaded through hooks bolted into the floor.

  ". . ." The Messenger didn’t answer. The King knew he wouldn’t if he were guilty. His soldiers had been trained on how to behave if the enemy caught them and knew how to withstand interrogation techniques.

  “1,035.” The King said for the soldier. “That’s why you’re here. Because of you a Kingdom with scarcely a few hundred thousand good men just lost 1,035. If you help us out today we can give you a chance to give these men some justice.”

  ". . ." Still nothing. The soldier just glared at the King with squinted eyes.

  “It’s okay. It’s easy to understand how difficult it might be for a man in your position to bring justice to one thousand and thirty-five dead soldiers,” the King said, stressing every word. Especially when you’re not very smart. But that’s okay because I can tell you how. You see, what’s going to happen is that the Council will find out I’ve stayed your execution. And not only that, but they will also soon learn that I came down here personally to interrogate you.” As the King said this, he crossed his legs and clasped his hands in front of him. Not to act too casual, but to stop himself from adjusting his Crown. “You see, I made a big show of coming down here just so they would know. After all, their plan didn’t exactly go as they had hoped, and I can imagine you probably weren’t expecting to die for them. About now, they’re probably wondering whether or not you’re going to talk after a few hours of agonizing torture.”

  “I’m honestly not sure either. Most men are good when you pull off the first toe, but the fourth? The fifth? When you start taking out organs or cutting tendons so they can never walk again? It’s hard to say what kind of man will talk and what kind of man will just say anything he can to get away from the pain.” As the King talked, one of the soldiers began bringing in a table and setting it up with as many cutting and breaking tools as the King had been able to find on such short notice. Their dungeon after all wasn’t really equipped for torture, but he had to make do with what he had.