Chapter 2: When Eloisa Met FallenOne
The evening brought the long-awaited chance to beta test the new Dragon Epoch game. Finally, an immersive game to play after months of marking time, replaying the old stuff. Despite the artwork, which included scantily-clad models painted as lithe elvish women with large, gravity-defying breasts, the game looked promising. So, I cracked my knuckles—figuratively—and sat down in front of the keyboard, ready to pwn this game.
“Wow, look at these graphics,” Heath said from his desk as he studied the fantastical scenery on his brand new high-definition screen. I struggled not to be jealous of him since he’d acquired it, especially since I’d at least gotten his hand-me-down out of the deal—and without it, I wouldn’t be seeing any graphics at all.
I turned back to my screen, awed by the artistic, colorful depictions of the fantasy landscape. Rugged, distant mountains, yellow meadows, gently trickling streams… lush forests. Even with the display options turned down so I could run the bare minimum graphics on my computer, it was breathtaking. I’d read that, as time progressed, the game would depict the transformation of the seasons. I looked forward to seeing that.
“Let’s get this party started!” I said, once I was done with the character creation screen. I’d chosen an elven spiritual enchantress, with long flowing black hair and eyes a neon shade of violet. I named her Eloisa. Of course, the poor dear didn’t have a scrap of decent cloth to dress herself in. Her ass cheeks were hanging out in the wind, fully exposed to the elements—and the male gaze, of course. Gritting my teeth together, I determined to get my girl some junk armor as quickly as possible.
“This old fart elfy dude wants me to pick flowers for him,” Heath grumbled. “Stupid ass quest.”
After exploring for a few minutes, we found ourselves outside the city wall. And indeed, Heath had discovered a quest from an aging elf man dressed in a strange military uniform accentuated by a kilt.
“Aww… how sweet!” I said. “He lost his one true love, and he wants to remember her by taking flowers to a shrine in her name. I think that’s really romantic.”
“What do you know about romance?” Heath asked. “The girl who never dates. Who never even goes out. Forget girl geek, you’re the girl hermit.”
I laughed. “Social lives are so overrated. Especially when you have a game like this to play at home with your bestie.”
After the first hour of our newest addiction, I could tell it was only going to get better—our enjoyment—or worse—our addiction. Depended on how you looked at it.
General SylvanWood—the “old fart elfy dude”—thanked us for completing his quest. Then he summarily referred us to another Non-Player Character (NPC), who started yet another interesting quest chain. Each mission led us deeper and deeper down a virtual rabbit hole.
Yes, there was some grinding involved—what decent game wouldn’t be complete without the requisite grunt work to level up? But mostly it was an immersive story, filled with beautiful graphics and intriguing details that begged to be investigated.
This game was like crack—or worse, meth. And we got buzzed just running around Yondareth, the world of Dragon Epoch our newest and most interesting method of escape.
I couldn’t wait to venture out and see who else shared this gorgeous virtual world. It turned out I didn’t have to be so much of a hermit, because we met our first new friend that night—a human healer who went by the name of Persephone, as in the goddess of the underworld. That meeting was a simple matter of her putting up her LFG tag, which denoted her as looking for a group, and the two of us being badly in need of healing from our fights.
Heath had created a barbarian mercenary, a huge warrior that towered over my demure, slight elf woman. Fragged was as big and brawny as Heath was in true life, with muscles upon his muscles. As far as I was concerned, he was a hit-point absorbing machine—or as I liked to refer to him, my meat shield.
“Man, this is interesting, but I have some complaints already,” Heath said. “Lots of eye candy for the straight dudes to look at. Not so much in the way of hot men for the gays.”
“Or the straight girls,” I added. “Don’t forget us!”
He laughed. “I’m not about to, but I think this game might have. Jeez, look at the double D’s on that Valkyrie Mama. Wow. Wouldn’t that hurt running around with all that décor on the front hood?”
I looked over his shoulder at the avatar of an unknown player while our new friend Persephone cackled over the voice chat.
I smirked. “Ten to one says that’s a guy playing her. And he used the customization features to make her bigger than Dolly Parton.”
“Huh…want to invite her to our group and find out?”
And bingo, I was right. It was a guy—under the age of eighteen. I nearly fell on the floor when Persephone asked him point blank if he was a guy and how old he was. I mean, I seriously had to put my hand over my mic because I was laughing so hard. Even Heath couldn’t keep a straight face as he proceeded to befriend the barely-pubescent young man.
We grouped with him again a few times after that first night, too, always making cracks amongst ourselves about the mangos, casabas, melons or whatever fruit we chose to compare them to that night. It’s a good thing the bra-makers of Yondareth were industrious enough to invent something for adequate support, even in the days before underwire was a possibility. Fine gnomish engineering at our fingertips!
I’d only allow myself to log on after homework was done, along with the requisite hour or two of studying for the MCAT. Reduced hours at the hospital job due to various scheduling issues made it so that I was fortunate enough to be able to log on every night during the beta test.
Aside from the fact that Persephone really got our humor, we seemed to click immediately. And the more we grouped with her, the better we got to know her.
“Almost out of mana. We need a slight break after the next fight,” she announced after a particularly grueling room we’d cleared in a set of underground caves leading up to the Minotaur King’s throne room.
We chatted while she regenerated her mana—the blue bar that allowed her to cast her spells.
“So… where are you two at?” She’d already picked up that we were roommates.
“SoCal. You? You must be West Coast since you’re in the same time zone.”
“British Columbia,” replied Persephone.
“Wow, a beer and poutine aficionado, huh?” Heath teased.
“Poutine is disgusting. Beer is everything,” she answered.
“You work? Or go to college?”
“Both. I babysit computers by night as a sysop. Simon Fraser University student by day. Sleep is optional.”
We gave her our details, along with our real names. She told us her real name was Katya.
I had only dabbled with Massive Multi-Player Online Roleplaying games before this—cough, World of Warcraft, cough—but now I truly appreciated the appeal of playing with new people. Before, I’d quickly grown tired of “grief” players who got their enjoyment from making life miserable for all other players around them. But the policies and terms of service of this game had made it abundantly clear that this behavior would not be tolerated.
The quests we pursued took us to broader and more dangerous areas that led to still more quests to complete. In fact, the game seemed to be quest after quest after endless quest. And I loved every minute of it, even the tedious ones, because the company was great. Then again, every game had its tedious—but necessary—moments, so at least in this game there was an interesting story behind even the simplest of quests. Like being asked to wander to the next field and pick a bouquet of daffodils for a doddering but kind old elf man in honor of his lost love.
Katya was quickly becoming our go-to girl as we worked together on quests and leveling up. And though we’d come to rely on one another, it became apparent that we needed someone to do more damage so we could kill the monsters faster. It just so happened that I came across that someone—after he nearly got my character killed.
I’d been minding my own business, gathering data on the game for eventual blog material—once the NDA was lifted, of course. That night, I was on my own, testing out how well I could fight solo against the mobs.
Without my two compadres to help me, I began to solo some troublesome gnolls who guarded the entrance to the mound outside their burrow. At my current level, fighting the pair of them was challenging, but I pushed my enchantress skills to their utmost potential.
While I put one of them into a mesmerized trance, I proceeded to beat up on his yipping compadre. The hyena-man got in a few good hits before I polished him off.
Unfortunately, as he fell to the ground and I turned my attention back to the swaying gnoll who awaited my magical wrath, a clueless spearman showed up out of nowhere to help “rescue” me.
The thing about putting mobs into a mesmerized trance is that, once they are awakened, they are mighty pissed off at the person who cast the magic on them. So though this strange little toon with a long white beard began to attack the gnoll on my behalf with his gigantic spear, the hyena-man went after me instead!
As a squishy spell caster, I didn’t have a lot of hit points. Even just a few hits hurt. A lot.
Dammit, I typed as I managed to fire off a “blurred memory” spell that would wipe away the hatred the gnoll bore for me—but also cause the spearman to get full credit for the kill. Why are you swiping my gnoll?
The spearman continued to swing at the hyena creature. He typed back, I’m helping you. I saw you had two mobs on you. I didn’t want you to get killed.
I fired off my biggest nuke spell and burned down half the gnoll’s hit points. I had it handled. He was mesmerized.
The spearman—FallenOne, so the bright blue name above his head declared—backed off immediately. Oh crap, I’m sorry. I thought you had aggro. Couldn’t tell you had control of the situation.
You’re such a newb, I replied. Don’t ever hit a mesmerized mob, or you are just kill stealing and mooching experience points from another player.
FWIW, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen an enchantress play like that… he replied. It’s a difficult class to solo with.
As I fired off my last spell and the gnoll’s corpse thudded to the ground, FallenOne emoted, bending down on a knee. His private message flashed across my screen. Apologies, milady. I wasn’t trying to steal your mob. How may I make it up to you?
I tapped my index finger on my lip, thinking. Was he in earnest or just a rookie preteen trying to get into my good graces so I’d cast some nice buff spells on him and send him on his way?
On the other hand, with that spear, his class did a lot of damage per second (DPS). That could be valuable, too… provided he wasn’t a newb idiot.
My group could use some DPS, assuming you aren’t too much of a newb, I typed.
He emoted a low bow. I promise not to screw up again.
I paused. Well, we could “screen” him, I guess. To see if he’d prove himself remotely helpful.
Play with us for an hour. If you’re useful, maybe we’ll keep you for longer. I bit my lip to fight a wicked smile. Man, I could be such a bitch when I wanted to. But hey, in all probability, he might not even show up.
Tomorrow night, 9 pm PST. Meet us by the city gate and we’ll group up.
Without hesitation, he bowed again. I am your servant, milady.
My brows arched. He certainly had the period lingo down. Maybe he was more experienced in fantasy gaming than he’d let on with his initial encounter.
I began the process for “camping out” of the game by sitting my character down. It took approximately thirty seconds. Right before disappearing, I replied to him, We shall see. Tomorrow. 9 pm.
I finished my day with my regimen of MCAT studying. Two hours today would hopefully make up for working the hospital job tomorrow and then gaming with the group later that night.
Sure enough, when we logged in at our appointed time, FallenOne was online and waiting for us. One minute after appearing at the city gate, he emoted a deep bow.
Surprised—even a little impressed—I rattled off a quick explanation of what had happened to my group members in voice chat. Then, I invited FallenOne to join us.
Unlike Heath, Katya, and me, FallenOne didn’t use the voice chat feature. He said it was because his equipment wasn’t working.
Maybe he doesn’t know how to properly use the voice chat function. He strikes me as a bit of a newb, I opined in a joint private message to Heath and Katya (who had told us we could call her “Kat”).
He’s probably just shy, Kat replied.
Or maybe he’s just a poor student with shitty equipment. Why you girls gotta read into everything? As always, Heath had to “set us straight.”
The beauty of MMOs was that necessity made extroverts out of the most withdrawn introverts.
Despite my initial questionable encounter with FallenOne, we ended up finding him very helpful. He had a solid knowledge of the game, which was vital to those of us—read: all three of us—who were still floundering around figuring out how things worked.
The quests are tiered and gated, he explained. So finish the low level ones first and the higher level quests will open up. They interconnect. Like a web or network.
We’d only been playing this game for about ten days, so I was amazed. I was also surprised he was still the same level as us. “How do you know so much about this game?” Persephone asked during our first night together as a group.
I get around, was his only answer. There *was a closed alpha test before this, you know. This might be the closed beta, but the stress beta opens up in just two weeks. You’ll all be experts to the open beta people!
There was a long pause amongst us.
“Ohhhkay. FallenOne, you are officially the mystery man,” Heath declared.
Just the way I like it, Fallen replied.
“So I guess this means we don’t get to know your a/s/l?” joked Kat.
He answered with a snarky, a = old enough to know better, s = yes, as often as possible and l = here and there.
“And Yondareth, of course,” I said cheekily. “Where boobs defy gravity and men are hearty, strong and appealing to all. All except those attracted to men, that is,” I said, laughing as Heath made a face.
Wait, what? asked Fallen.
Ah, of course he hadn’t noticed. Seeing fantasy women dressed so scantily had become so much of a norm, most men accepted it without question. One more clueless male to educate! Girl Geek again gets her hands dirty so that the rest of womankind doesn’t have to—unless they want to, that is.
“I just mean that I don’t think the game creators realize that women play this game, too.”
I’m sure they realize that. Why wouldn’t they? But of course they are going to market more to men. After all, statistics are statistics and most players of these types of games are male.
“Pfft. Yeah,” I said. “And it will stay that way unless they tone down the skimpy lingerie armor and the ginormous boobies.”
I got nothing against ginormous boobies. I love a good pair of boobies.
“Then they should give us some nice bulging packages as a nice counterpoint,” Heath said.
“Or glistening abs!” I added.
But as a chick, don’t you want your character to be hot in the game?
“Chicks can kick ass, too. Not just be eye candy,” Kat pitched in.
I’m sure the game producers would appreciate that kind of feedback from the beta testers. “More eye candy for the female characters.”
“Or even better—equal opportunity eye candy! I think I’ll submit that in the virtual suggestion box,” I snarked. “Too bad it’ll be immediately trashed without ever being read.”
Hmm. The sarcasm is strong with this one.
“Oh, Fallen, you have no idea,” Heath said. “I live with Her Majesty, the reigning monarch of All Things Sarcastic. And believe me, there’s a whole lot more where that came from.”
“I have outlets for when the sarcasm overfloweth,” I said.
I wonder if the game will be able to live up to your incredibly high standards, Eloisa.
“Indeed, the pen is mightier than the sword,” Heath replied. “In this case, literally—the virtual pen becomes mightier than the virtual sword of Yondareth.”
You’re a writer?
I waved Heath off, but he spilled the beans far too soon. “Worse. She’s a blogger, my friend.”
I flipped Heath the bird across our shared table, and he stuck his tongue out at me.
You blog? About what? Gaming? Photography? Knitting?
Heath bust out laughing, and before he could answer, I interjected. “Heath is not allowed to give further information about my blog on pain of death. And believe me, I can make it very painful.”
“She blogs about feminism and gaming. See? I’m not afraid of you!” Heath sent me a wink.
I covered my mic and turned to Heath. “He might be one of those male gamer activists. You never know.”
Heath muted his own mic and shook his head. “I can recognize those a mile away. They out themselves pretty quickly. FallenOne and I have been chatting in PMs all night. I can tell he’s cool.”
That actually sounds really cool. Link please. Must read.
Heath looked up at me, brows raised. “See? Besides, it’s not like he knows where to find you or anything. These are beta characters. We can dump them anytime and pick new names. Voila, any harasser would no longer know where to find us in-game.”
I spoke into my headset to Fallen. “No snarky commenting allowed, by the way. And you can’t blow my cover. I never reveal my character name or what server I’m on.”
But Heath had a point—if Fallen did any of that, it was still early. It also might be a good litmus test for his trustworthiness. If he became a regular in our group, I’d have to know he was worth trusting with sensitive info. What better way than to test it now, when our characters were still disposable?
You don’t get harassed or anything, do you?
I shrugged. “Sometimes. Nothing serious though, fortunately.” I was lucky. Some women had been seriously harassed for speaking out in the man’s world of gaming. With threats of violence and cyber-attacks, even. It was awful. I’d been lucky due to my smaller platform.
Heath started typing furiously on his keyboard, and I assumed he was sending Fallen the blog link. Oh well… I put my thoughts up on that blog for all the world to read. Why not the poor shy guy we’d grouped up with for the night?
So how long have you 2 been dating? Fallen suddenly asked.
“Who two?” Heath answered. “Us two?” Heath looked up at me and I started snickering—hard.
“It’s not that funny.” Heath smirked. “Fallen, we aren’t dating. We’re just mutually adopted siblings and now roommates. I like guys. She doesn’t like people at all.”
I bit my lip but nodded approvingly at his explanation. “Oooh. Maybe Fallen likes guys, too! Too bad you’re taken.”
Heath put a hand over his mic and said, “This guy is a docile, middle-aged mailman living in his mom’s basement, what do you want to bet?”
I shrugged. I kind of hoped not. FallenOne was intriguing, but his secrecy was worrying. Odds were that Heath was closer to the truth than I wanted to admit.
Kat had been informed earlier in the week about my blog and had told me she’d read some of it and enjoyed it. She’d even asked if I needed a guest poster. Given her playing talent, I’d love to take her on—for no pay, of course.
“There’s four of us here in this group. We should recruit a fifth person and start a guild,” Kat said suddenly. “We can call ourselves The Misfits!”
Heath made a face. “Doesn’t sound very period-authentic.”
I can’t join a guild, sorry, replied FallenOne. In fact, I have to go. Exhausted beyond words right now. You have all held me hostage with the witty banter tonight. Almost forgot I have to be up reeeaaaally early.
I frowned at that, checking the clock. Shit, it was already midnight and the time had passed like it was standing still. I had an early morning class the next day. “Ugh, I need to go, too. Chemical Analysis lab in the morning.”
You’re a chemist?
“Premed,” I answered.
“Yeah, she’s a brainiac. She wiles away most of her spare time studying, even while I try to lure her away with the promise of gaming. She’s a regular party animal, all right.”
I bit my lip, accustomed to the description that had been applied to me for years. Yeah, I was an overachiever and proud of it. And I really, really had to be, given my aspirations. Some people prided themselves on the flattering descriptions of their appearance. I prided myself on my above-average brain. That alone kept most of the men away. Most men were easily intimidated by an intelligent woman.
“We’ll see if it’s all for naught once I take the MCAT.”
What’s that?
“Medical College Admissions Test. The biggie to get into med school. Four more months.” I blew out a tight, nervous breath, feeling that familiar wave of nerves hit me. To counter it, I vowed to spend my lunch break the next day studying instead of watching old reruns on TV or logging onto the game.
Well, you all, it was nice meeting you. Maybe I’ll see you around again sometime.
“You should group with us again, Fallen,” Kat said. “We’re lots of fun, and we could use more spearman DPS.”
Maybe! I’m kind of a free spirit, but I’ll definitely look you up. I’ve added you all to my friends list.
“Same,” Heath replied.
And then he was gone.
“Well, he’s a strange one,” Heath said as we logged off.
I shrugged. “He’s shy. Seems pretty nice, though.”
“We’ll never see him again,” Kat opined. “He’ll either move off to another beta test or roll up a new character when he gets bored with this one. One of the problems with MMORPGs is that you meet new people, make friends, hang out, have a lot of laughs and then the person disappears without a trace. I’ve seen it happen before.”
I shrugged. “Well, that would suck, but I guess if that’s the way it goes…”
“Okay all, I’m out, too. Good night!” Katya said.
Heath held his arms above his head, stretching. “Night Kat. Time for me to call it, too. I gotta get up in the morning and help Brian get ready to list some of his stuff on eBay.”
I raised my brows. “Ah, so he’s decluttering to prepare for the move?”
He cleared his throat, looking sheepish and—I think—a little guilty. “Yeah.”
I shrugged and gave him a wry smile to help deflect that guilt. “I’ve got some free time this weekend to go house-hunting. I have a few apartments to check out. I’ll report back.”
“Let me know if you want me to come along.”
“I think you’re better off helping Brian. But if I’m having a hard time deciding on a place, you’ll definitely be the tie-breaker. Okay?”
He nodded, still not appearing all that happy. I had a feeling he wanted some control over wherever it was I was going to move. But he had to accept that I was a big girl now, and this next step was mine and mine alone to take.
On that note, we hit the sack. And I couldn’t completely recall later, but I could swear I had a dream about a gamer nerd who, instead of being a middle-aged balding mailman, was tall, dark-haired and hot. With miles of muscles and a sexy voice.
Ha. As if.