The Great MacGuffin: A LitRPG Adventure (Beta Tester Book 1) Page 3

  “Ideally, you’ll play the game on your own. But part of the VR service is an on-call tech 24/7. So you call me whenever you need anything – backup, help with a challenge, or a questing buddy. Whatever. It all needs to be tested, and we want you to play this like you would without outside expectations.”

  “Cool. Well, I guess I better get back to the quest. I have to be online by eight tomorrow.” He hoped his subtlety would get his point across.

  It didn’t. “Are we scheduled for morning testing? I thought you were an overnight tester?”

  “Yeah, I am. I work a day job though too.”

  “Oh, cool. What do you do?”

  “Write software.”

  “What kind of software?” He mumbled out an answer, and Jordan prompted via the dwarf’s voice, “What?”

  “I’m a freelancer.”

  “Oh, sweet gig.”

  He shrugged. “It’s got its perks. I pick my clients, usually.”

  “Usually?”

  “Sometimes there’s lots of work, sometimes you got to take what you get.”

  “Ah.”

  “So I can’t miss my eight AM meeting. New client meeting.”

  Migli laughed. “Yeah, probably not a good idea to blow off a client.”

  Jack sighed. “So…we done here?”

  “Oh, yeah. Let’s just test the system. I’m going to put Migli back in charge, and then you call me back. Okay?”

  “Sure.”

  Migli spun around, and his legs rearranged themselves so that his foot hovered above the ground. Then the game picked up where it had left off. “This way,” the dwarf said.

  “Uh, speak to supervisor.”

  “Sweet,” Migli said. “I got the alert, loud and clear. Alright, Houston, we are a go.”

  Jack threw a glance around. Everyone was doing whatever they had been doing – which, mostly, was trying to kill each other. “Wait, how come the game didn’t pause this time?”

  “Oh, it only pauses if I choose to pause it on my end. I paused the first time so we could talk.”

  “Oh. Can I pause it?”

  “No. Well, I mean, technically, if you bring up your inventory or quest log, the game pauses. But that’s because the only thing you can interact with is the inventory or log. You can’t interact with the game world.”

  He harrumphed. “Too bad. That’d be fun.”

  “Yeah, we anticipated cheaters like day one, dude. Sorry.”

  Jack shook his head. He couldn’t tell which was more disconcerting: the butchered old English, or this. “Right. Well, I’m good if you’re good.”

  “Right, Jordan, over and out. Have a good game.”

  Jack sighed and reset his focus. That was a feature he didn’t figure he’d use much. It was a little too jarring.

  Migli had already scampered off, but now he turned to wait. Jack followed, and the dwarf remained fixed in place until he triggered some kind of proximity setting. Then they both ran. The clatter of hooves and the cry of battle grew further away. The forest got thicker, and darker.

  “Stay close, young knight. These woods are full of bandits, and worse things.”

  “So, where are we headed?”

  “We must follow the Elder’s counsel.”

  That wasn’t much of an answer, and he told the dwarf as much.

  “Thou dost ask many questions, Sir Knight.”

  Jack grimaced. “Supervisor.” Nothing happened. “Speak to supervisor.”

  A moment later, Migli turned to him and asked, “What’s up, Jack?”

  “Hey, quick question for you. Is there any kind of setting to change dialogue? Like, maybe lose the old English?”

  “Oh, sure. One second. Alright, we’re good.”

  “Cool. Thanks.”

  “Anytime, Jack.”

  They were still running, but now Migli glanced forward again. He figured that meant Jordan had tapped out, and he was back with his NPC companion.

  “So, Migli, where are we going?”

  “Eorl gave you the key, Jack. That will lead us to the dagger.”

  “I mean, I kind of figured. But where exactly are we running to?”

  “A secret place, where we will be safe.”

  “Oh for the love of God.” He shook his head. “You’re not going to tell me until after the next fight, are you?”

  Migli ignored the question. “We will come to a village soon. It is called Dragon’s Run.”

  That caught his attention. “Sweet. Dragons, this early in the game?”

  “Many years ago, if the rumors are to be believed, a great dragon made her nest there. But that was many seasons ago, and there have been no dragons since.”

  Jack frowned. “Doesn’t really make sense to call it Dragon’s Run, then, if there aren’t actually dragons.”

  Migli drew up sharply. “What was that?”

  “What was what?”

  “Take cover. It’s an ambush.”

  Jack forgot about dragons, and any attendant pedantry. He drew his sword, and glanced around, eager for a fight. Migli, meanwhile, ducked behind a broad, moss covered tree stump.

  Arrows burst out of the foliage all around them. Jack grinned. It had been awhile since his last fight. He’d spent most of the game so far running. “Come on, you bastards. Give me your best shot.”

  They did, right between the eyes, in an instant kill shot.

  A moment later, he was prompted to load from the last checkpoint. He scowled and confirmed.

  He found himself plopped into the dense forest again. Migli was saying, “We will come to a village soon. It is called Dragon’s Run.”

  He rolled his eyes.

  The dwarf went on, “Many years ago, if the rumors are to be believed, a great dragon made her nest there. But that was many seasons ago, and there have been no dragons since.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Gasp. You heard something.”

  Right on cue, Migli stopped in his tracks. “What was that?”

  “Let me guess: an ambush.”

  “Take cover. It’s an ambush.”

  This time, Jack did. He ducked down behind a great stone. It felt cool against his skin. A second later, the clatter of arrows shattering on stone filled his ears.

  “Get them,” someone called. “There’s a bounty on the dwarf. The man who brings him down gets as much ale as he can drink, on me.”

  Jack listened. He could hear footsteps advancing, muted by the thick forest foliage. Now and then, a twig snapped, sounding loud and foreboding in the silence. He couldn’t see Migli, but he guessed the dwarf was a few feet over, behind the same stump as last time.

  His pulse raced, and he realized that, sounding faraway, a quiet, foreboding ambient music drifted on the breeze. It should have been weird. It should have pulled him out of the moment, since things like that didn’t happen in real life.

  But it didn’t; it felt, somehow, natural. And it made his skin crawl. He almost yelped when a twig snapped very near his hiding spot. A shadow fell over him, and he glanced up. One of the guards was passing by.

  He made a split-second call and darted upward. He pushed the tip of his blade through the other man’s ribs, and he cried out and collapsed to the ground.

  Jack had about one and a half seconds to celebrate his victory, before a volley of arrows showered his position. One of them struck his heart, in an instant kill shot.

  He loaded again and heard Migli’s same spiel about the town. He didn’t wait for the ambush, though. He’d ducked into a cluster of rocks and shrubs by time the dwarf said, “Take cover. It’s an ambush.”

  This time, he was able to pinpoint the direction the voice came from when it called, “Get them. There’s a bounty on the dwarf. The man who brings him down gets as much ale as he can drink, on me.”

  He figured that was the leader of the brigands, and he figured he was holed up across the path, behind a thick tree trunk. He held onto the hilt of his sword and crept along the ground. He could hear people advancing on his po
sition. He could hear footsteps and snapping twigs. They were headed in the direction of the great stump – toward Migli.

  He worked his own way closer and closer. He caught the first guy behind a tree and clamped a hand over his mouth before plunging the blade through his back. A muted whimper later, and he lowered the dead body onto the leaves. He paused to root through the other man’s pockets. He had a purse full of gold, which Jack grabbed.

  Added: gold pieces, 25

  It was a little disconcerting to have thoughts planted in your own brain, but he kept going. The downed soldier had a dagger, which he also took.

  Weapon acquired: dagger

  He left the sword, and did an inventory check on the downed man.

  Pewter ring, value: 3 gold

  Hooded cloak, value: 1 gold, +1 nighttime camouflage

  Boots, value: 2 gold, +2 stealth

  Trousers, value: 1 gold

  Tunic, value: 1 gold

  Bone amulet, value: 15 gold, +unknown properties

  Jack opted for the take all route. It was quicker, for starters, and, well, he had a slight hoarding problem. Not in real life. He kept his real life quarters bare as a dorm. But in the digital world, he lived by the mantra that it was better to have it and not need it than need it and not have it. It, in practice, usually meant…everything.

  So his inventory alerted him that he’d added a ring, a cloak, a pair of boots, trousers and a tunic, and a bone amulet.

  He crept onward. The second guy almost got the drop on him, but Jack could smell his body odor. Like the dung in the streets, he wasn’t sure if he should be mortified or impressed. Still, in the moment it saved his skin, so he wasn’t complaining. He finished his attacker off with a quick slice to the throat. He went down quietly.

  Jack circled around, dispatching three more men. He looted them all, and ended up with forty gold pieces in total, several pewter rings, a few amulets, five sets of tunics and trousers and – oddly – only four pairs of boots. It didn’t make sense. He could see the boots on the other man’s feet, but they didn’t show up in his inventory. Nor could he physically remove them. He could feel the leather, as real as anything.

  But when he tried to take them, his hands just slipped through. Well, it is a Marshfield Studio game. I’m surprised it took this long to find my first bug, to be honest.

  He reached Migli and ducked behind the stump. “God’s teeth. I thought those blackguards had done thee in.”

  Jack frowned. “What?”

  “God’s teeth. I thought those blackguards had done thee in.”

  He sighed. “Speak to supervisor.”

  Now, Migli’s serious expression vanished. “Yo, what’s up?”

  “You turned the old English off, right?”

  “Sure thing.”

  “Yeah, I think it’s back on.”

  “Can’t be. I shut it off.”

  “Well, I don’t know what to tell you. But the dwarf here just called me a ‘thee’ and was talking about ‘blackguards.’”

  “Really? Huh.” He heard keyboard clacking and hemming and hawing coming from the dwarf. “I’m just going to pause the game quick. Ope. Yeah, I think I found it. Well, would you look at that?”

  “I mean, I can’t see what you’re seeing, Jordan, so…”

  “Yeah, looks like that went and turned itself back on somehow.”

  He frowned. “Somehow?”

  “Might have a little bug there. No biggie. If it happens again, just ping me.”

  Migli’s expression reverted. The dwarf’s brows knit together, and he stared with dark eyes at Jack. “We need to find the leader and kill him. Cut the head off the snake. The rest of these fools will scatter.”

  “And let me guess…by ‘we,’ you mean ‘me’?”

  “He should be just across the road. I’ll wait here and cover your movements from my position. You find him, so we can proceed.”

  “Look at that. I’m a gosh-darned prophet.”

  Chapter Three

  He froze. “What in the heather?” Now, he blinked. “What the bleep?”

  He hadn’t been trying to say gosh-darned, or heather. But bleep? How the hell had a well-earned f-bomb come out of his mouth as a sad little bleep?

  He cleared his throat. “Uh, supervisor? Dang it.” He growled. That hadn’t been a dang, either. Not as he’d been thinking it, anyway. “Speak to supervisor.”

  “Woah,” Migli – Jordan – said, a little apprehension in his tone. “Everything okay?”

  “Okay? No it’s not okay. I don’t know what’s wrong, but the speech module isn’t working.”

  “What do you mean? I can hear you just fine.”

  “Yeah, but watch this: heck, dang, mother trucker, bleep.”

  Migli stared at him. “Uh…I heard you just fine.”

  “I wasn’t talking about truckers, Jordan. I was trying to say…” He hesitated, wondering how he could get the word out of his brain and into language. “The f-word.”

  “Ohhh, no, you’re good, dude. That’s just the profanity filter.”

  “The…profanity filter?”

  “Right. It’s the default setting. All language is capped at PG-13 unless the user selects mature.”

  Jack tapped his foot impatiently. “Alright, well, how do I change that setting? I am definitely not going around dropping ‘bleeps.’”

  Jordan hemmed and hawed for a minute. “Sorry, Jack. I can’t authorize that.”

  “You…can’t authorize it?”

  “No. The gameplay’s being recorded.”

  “So what?”

  “So Marshfield Studio may use these clips for promotional spots. Can’t have cuss words, you know?”

  “You’ve got to be pulling my leg right now.”

  Jack frowned and Jordan laughed. “Ohhh, something tells me that is not what you’re trying to say.”

  “No kidding. Gosh darn it. Jordan, fix this bleeping thing.”

  Jordan just laughed though. “The system’s darned good, isn’t it? It doesn’t just filter out single words…it swaps entire phrases.”

  “Yeah, I kind of figured that out. Since I’ve never in my life said ‘you’ve got to be pulling my leg’ deliberately.”

  “Except just now.”

  Jack scowled. “Listen, are you going to fix this or not?”

  “No can do. I’m sorry, dude, but those are the rules. You have to play with the profanity filter on.”

  He scowled. “This is bologna.” Which only made him scowl deeper, since that hadn’t been what he’d meant to say.

  “Right. Well, I’m going to let you get back to it.”

  “Wait,” he said. But Jordan didn’t wait.

  Migli’s programmed personality returned. “You should move before we’re spotted.”

  “Gosh darn it!” The exclamation didn’t bring Jordan back. But it did draw the brigand’s attention. Which earned Jack a neatly aimed arrow, straight to the heart.

  A few mother truckers and gosh darn it’s later, he respawned in the forest right before the ambush. He repeated his actions from the last play though – minus the bit where he called Jordan. Useless bastard.

  He killed the enemy soldiers and looted their corpses. Then he rendezvoused with Migli, who sent him on his way as before.

  And this time, he crept down the roadside a good twenty or thirty yards, until it was safe to cross over. Then he picked his way back, until he found the brigand leader.

  The brigand was peering out at the dwarf’s hiding spot, seemingly oblivious to his own peril. Jack crept toward him with his newfound dagger in hand. He was within striking distance when the bandit turned around, a big, malicious grin on his face, and a blade at the ready.

  “Mother trucker,” Jack yelped, leaping out of the way a second before he wound up in pieces. He dropped his dagger in the scramble, so he drew his sword instead. The brigand bore down on him hard and fast, and as he blocked, Jack could feel the force of the blow reverberate through his bones.


  He hadn’t felt that before, and he found himself hoping it was just a boss fight thing. He knew his actual bones in his actual body were just fine. Still, feeling like he was being battered by a three-hundred-pound medieval peasant really wasn’t the kind of realism he was looking for in his videogames.

  But this particular medieval peasant was doing a remarkable job of battering him. So aside from a quick mental note to bring it up next time he talked to Jordan, he put his full concentration into the fight.

  The bandit was quick on his feet, and strong as an ox. He blocked the best strikes, and got in quite a few good jabs on his own. Jack felt his health bar depleting. He didn’t know how many hit points the other man had left, but he suspected it was more than he had.

  “A little help would be nice here, Migli.”

  The dwarf poked his head over the stump – just barely over, as the stump was probably as tall as he was. “What didst thou say, Sir Knight?”

  Worthless, buggy bastard, he thought. But Migli’s voice drew the bandit’s attention for half a second.

  It was all Jack needed. With a heavy swipe, he lopped the other man’s head clean off his shoulders.

  He knew instinctively he’d just gained a level in two-handed weaponry, the same way he knew when he added items to his inventory. The thought just happened. “Sweet.”

  The ominous music faded, which he took to be a signal that the danger was over. As if to confirm the suspicion, Migli stepped out from behind his hiding spot. “Excellent teamwork. Well done, Jack.”

  Jack glanced up from looting the dead man to scowl at the dwarf. “Teamwork? What are you talking about, ‘teamwork’? You didn’t even lift a finger.”

  “The village is just up that way. We should head out. You don’t want to be caught in these woods when the sun sets.”

  “One minute. I need to finish looting this guy.” He’d rifled through the dead man’s weapons, and scavenged a bow and quiver of five arrows. Now, he was looking through his items. He had a little more gold than the other brigands, but none of his possessions were valued higher. Oh well. Take ‘em all, I guess. I can always sell them at a merchant shop.

  He did, and then a thought flashed through his mind. You are overburdened. You’re unable to move until you discard items.