Orin had informed the group that the tent and a surrounding area of around three hundred feet was in the process of being translocated. This being the case, the triangular portal, which had shown the Coinflayer storm earlier, now shimmered with a strange gray light that rippled like water.
Pete had asked, of course, whether it would be possible to spit them out somewhere closer to the Novice Arena entrance and, after a little negotiation, they’d agreed on a half-step that would see Pete and his companions re-enter the world only twenty miles or so from their final destination.
The issue came down to cost. Apparently, the fuel required to shift the emporium was so expensive that Orin had to be ruthless in using it. Staying ahead of the System and the Tongsly Belch Corporation, which were constantly looking for Orin, didn’t require large jumps but only needed him to shift the tent a few feet in either direction, as each change completely altered the way they would appear to any surveillance equipment or scrying spells.
Pete didn’t pretend to understand the process, but he saw how moving them right up to the Novice Arena was simply going to be too costly. As it was, fixing the RV and shifting the tent had taken all of their available funds and everything he’d earned from his trade items. This meant that they’d have to quickly gather the thousand Belch Bucks required to enter the Novice Arena for each member of the team. Given the number of enemies that seemed to exist in the game, however, Pete didn’t think that would be a problem.
As time wore on, Orin and Sam seemed to develop a shorthand with one another, communicating by a series of grunts and points as they worked together to fix what was broken and add in some augmentation to the battered RV. Rather than fixing shattered windows and punctured metal panels, Orin used some kind of high-tech strip tape that created a force field that filled the various gaps and breakages. He then set about building a small shield projector for the entire vehicle and showed Sam how to operate the device.
“Seems like a hell of a lot of work to go to for a busted RV,” Coop said from her place around Pete’s neck.
“Yeah, I was just thinking the same thing. I doubt what we paid covers the cost either. Orin’s putting a lot more into this than what we’ve paid for.”
“And why do you think that is?”
Pete thought about that. It could be that the dwarf was simply helping out a fellow Dominion Ultrimax player or acting out of the goodness of his heart, but Pete didn’t think so. He figured it was a similar reason as to why the Obsidian Alliance was helping him. They both saw him as representing their cause, making a stand against the Corporation and Tongsly Belch.
Remembering the passion with which Orin spoke about Belch and the Dominion, it was easy to see that he’d be happy to take any opportunity to stick it to the establishment.
“He hates the game, and he really hates Belch. Like, I think if you gave him a knife and put him in the same room, he’d have a go at the bastard. So, I guess he figures that helping us out is part of that.”
“Because of what you’ve publicly said?” Coop asked. “Your little televised rant.”
“Something like that, yeah.”
“It could get us all killed, you know. Speaking out like that.”
Pete nodded. “Yup. Too late to stop now, though. Apparently, people watching the feeds like it when I talk shit about Belch and the System, so I need to keep it up, go even harder maybe. Not sure exactly how I’ll manage to do that.”
“I could think of a few ways,” Coop replied. “Seems like the System has been doing its level best to kill us anyway, so maybe it doesn’t make any difference. The chances of survival are still laughably slim.”
“True. But we’re still here after everything we’ve gone through. That counts for something.”
The sound of the RV’s engine revving drew their attention back to the vehicle. Sam was sitting in the driver's seat, grinning as she gave them the thumbs-up gesture and revved the engine once more.
Orin came walking over, grease smeared across his forehead and a broad grin on his face as he wiped his hands on a rag.
“Your steed awaits,” he said, nodding toward the RV. “All repairs have been completed, and everything seems to be in good working order. The enhancements we’ve made will also give you a better chance of surviving any future enemy engagements. With time, and a little work, you could also add weaponry to the vehicle and enhance the simple protections it now possesses.”
Pete nodded. “It looks great. I’m not sure how useful it’s going to be once we get to the Novice Arena, though. You think they’ll let us take it with us?”
The old dwarf nodded, smirking. “Of course they will, lad. Contestants are permitted to take anything they have into the arena. If you survive to the next phase of the contest, you’ll learn that this is a necessity if you are to succeed at the game. The arenas are brutal and contain far more advanced enemies than you encounter outside. Any advantage you can gain by bringing advanced weaponry, munitions, or allies with you into the arena is valuable.”
“Shit. Okay. So, what actually is the arena going to be like? Some kind of giant coliseum?”
Orin smirked as he shook his head. “A maze, a series of trials, a watery expanse which you must traverse in a sea vessel. It could be anything. Each season, a different arena is designed, often with the host planet in mind.”
He jabbed a thumb at his chest.
“In my case, the mines were a great focus, as were the mountains. In the Veteran Arena, we were made to find frostkin while we climbed the Devil’s Teeth, or a rocky ridge that had been fashioned to look just like it. Given the nature of your world, you might expect to do battle in an oversized shopping mall, or perhaps a school, or an airport. Typically, the arenas are oversized and intended to mock the host world in some way or to highlight its various eccentricities.”
“Just another level in the game,” Pete mused sourly.
“Another level, yes,” Orin agreed, “but of an entirely different order than what you are accustomed to. There will typically be a strict timeframe placed against completing the arena, and all the various obstacles and enemies will revolve around a central boss at the heart of the contest region. It will be exceptionally difficult to kill, and you may be required to join with other parties of players in order to defeat it.”
Pete nodded. “That Coin Lord was pretty intense.”
The dwarf shook his head. “Coin Lord Grindle was nothing compared to what you will face in the Novice Arena, lad. I have seen strong warriors with great skill fight their way to the central boss with relative ease, only to be slaughtered by a casual flick of a tentacle or the prick of a venomous spine. Monstrous creatures are transported from the far reaches of the Dominion to populate the arenas, and those who watch the spectacle from the feeds will bet on how many thousands will die before the boss falls.”
Sam turned off the ignition and slipped down out of the RV. She joined Pete and the others by the dwarf as Craig and his goblin companions walked over, all listening to Orin.
“You will enter the Novice Arena from a local site,” he went on, “but many of the arenas are connected, so no matter where you are on this continent, you will likely face the main arena boss along with thousands of others from surrounding lands. The System will try to cull your numbers heavily before the final battle, ensuring that only a suitable number of combatants face the boss.”
Sam clicked her tongue. “And what happens if no one beats the boss?”
The dwarf turned to her, a glint in his eye. “Then the boss is rewarded for its efforts. If it is sentient, it will earn a considerable amount of wealth. If it is a beast or some monstrous creature owned by one of the guild bestiaries or rogue traders, then the owner will earn a hefty sum for the victory.”
Sam shook her head. “No, that’s not what I mean. I’m saying if everyone dies and no one beats any of the novice level bosses anywhere on the planet. That would screw the contest, wouldn’t it?”
“It would, but that has never happened in all the history of the Dominion Ultrimax Contest. Such an early failure would be simply untenable. The System will intervene, if necessary, either to bolster the efforts of the players or to hamper the boss.”
[Nero] I feel compelled to object, Mr. Tithebreaker. In no way does the system ever intervene in order to manipulate the outcomes of boss battles. Such a suggestion represents a serious breach of contest protocol, not to mention Dominion law.
Orin roared with laughter, slapping a hand against his belly. “In case it has escaped your notice, tutor, I do not reside within the purview of the Dominion, nor do I recognize the authority of the Tongsly Belch Corporation, the Ultrimax Contest, nor the high and mighty little lord Belch himself. While you are here in this place, you reside in my kingdom, where folk are free to say whatever they wish about our illustrious shyster baron and his criminal lackeys. Likewise, all are welcome to question the dubious integrity of the Mammon System.”
While he couldn’t actually see Nero, other than the small waveform graphic on his HUD, Pete could practically feel the AI’s brain explode in response to Orin’s words. To his credit, Nero didn’t respond.
“Okay,” Sam said. “We need to get moving. The RV is all set, but there’s one last thing we need to do before we head off.”
She turned to Pete, eyes wide. “We need to name this bad boy!”
He frowned at that. “Okay, call it whatever you want, I guess.”
“No,” Sam shook her head. “The name is important. It has to make a statement. It has to say something about us as a team.”
“Why? It’s just transport.”
She looked at him as though he’d just asked if air was important.
“You still don’t get it, do you? After everything you’ve been through, you still don’t get it.”
He looked at her blankly, missing whatever it was she was trying to convey.
“It’s all a show,” she said, arms stretched out to the side. “Everything we do, everything we say, it’s all recorded and broadcast to the Dominion, right? So even something as seemingly pointless as what we decide to name our van is incredibly important because billions of people are watching!”
Pete nodded, understanding. She was right. Every choice, no matter how menial or unimportant it seemed in the moment, could have long-lasting consequences. Even the name they chose for this RV would likely make or break fortunes. Hell, the Tongsly Belch Corporation would probably be preparing to make miniature Winnebago’s and action figures right now. As soon as they landed on a name, that name would be plastered against the sides of millions of toy RVs sold to Dominion citizens all around the cosmos.
“Bullet,” he said with a grin. “Ironically, I mean.”
Sam grinned, nodding. “Okay, so we’ve got one vote for Bullet. Any other suggestions?”
Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.
“Nomad,” Coop offered.
“The Wanderer,” Pete added.
“The Blessed Saint of the Pious Path of the Penniless Penitent!” Grizzle half-shouted, practically jumping up and down with excitement.
“Yeah, I think that’s a little long,” Sam replied with a grin.
“What about Pious?” Craig suggested.
Sam nodded. “Okay, so we’ve got Bullet, Nomad, The Wanderer, Pious, what else?”
“Vanguard,” Orin suggested.
“Stallion,” Coop suggested.
“And I’m going with Death Bringer,” Sam said.
“Of course you are,” Pete replied, smirking. “Well, are we gonna put it to a vote, or what?”
The conversation rambled for a few more minutes as more suggestions were made. When it became apparent that the suggestions were leaning more toward the absurd, Sam called for a vote, and they whittled down the choices to three options.
“Okay, final vote and you can only vote for one,” Sam said. “Our three options are Bullet, Jackpot, and Doogan.” She shook her head and looked over at Orin and the goblins who were all chuckling at that last name. “Which I still don’t understand.”
“It has special significance for those of us who watched the previous season of the Ultrimax contest,” Orin explained. “Doogan was a particularly delightful NPC. A crowd favorite who—”
“It doesn’t matter,” Sam said. “Let’s just vote. And so help me if you bastards all decide to vote for Doogan…”
They voted, and Sam looked around, nodding as she took the final tally.
“Okay then. Jackpot it is.”
“A fitting name,” Orin said with a grin.
He walked up to the RV and pulled a small device from his pocket. “I offer one final gift and hope that you can repay my generosity by continuing to best the System and survive the game.”
Pete squinted, trying to see what it was the old dwarf was holding. It looked like a cross between a large marker pen and a tool of some kind, and it reminded him a little of the sonic screwdriver Dr. Who used.
Orin moved up to the front of the RV and started motioning back and forth with the device. After a few moments, he backed away, moving to the side to reveal the word ‘Jackpot’ written in block letters along with portraits of Pete, Sam, Coop, Craig, Grizzle, and Torgo all surrounding the title. It was written in gold writing that glimmered in the faint light of the braziers outside of the trading tent.
“That is awesome!” Sam said, beaming in delight.
“Agreed,” Pete said, moving his head to the left and right and noting how the writing shimmered and shifted with his movement, jutting out from the front of the Winnebago like a three-dimensional hologram.
“There is no point hiding,” Orin said, nodding to himself and looking back at the newly painted title. “Better to announce yourself to enemies and friends alike.”
“Well,” Coop mused, “there’s no hope of sneaking up on anyone with this going on. Will it always shine like that?”
Orin shrugged. “The paint will fade in time, but under normal circumstances, yes. While it is true that it will limit your ability to sneak up on enemies, I would suggest that driving a vehicle of this size already announces your presence to any foe within range. If you require stealth, perhaps moving on foot would prove more advantageous.”
Coop grunted in begrudging agreement as Craig and the other goblins moved up to the front of the RV and examined their portraits. Whatever device Orin had used to paint the front of the vehicle, it had portrayed Pete and his crew in the most flattering light possible, picturing their heads in heroic fashion, gazing off into the distance like portraits from an action film poster.
“Well, thanks for everything,” Pete said. “We would have been pretty much screwed if it wasn’t for your help.”
The dwarf nodded. “Fight well and continue to rail against our illustrious leader, Pete, and that will be thanks enough.”
He walked over and shook Pete’s hand, his grip firm and confident. Orin then said his goodbyes to the rest of the group, and Pete couldn’t help but feel as though this was a final farewell. He saw something like sadness in the dwarf’s eyes as he clasped hands with each of the others and spoke kind words, as though he knew that they wouldn’t last more than a few days once they returned to the arena grounds.
That made a certain amount of sense. Orin had seen seasons of the Dominion Ultrimax Competition come and go and, during that time, he’d probably witnessed countless millions of contestants die. Pete and his crew had been lucky so far. True, they’d used the tools they were given to the best of their advantage, and Pete had tried to be smart in his approach to every encounter, but the fact was, luck had played a huge part in their survival.
The System had it out for them, and Pete knew that if he didn’t play his cards just right, the goodwill he’d been able to gather from Dominion citizens watching the feeds could quickly evaporate. His life had become a baffling mix of fighting to the death while managing his social media presence and devising ever more inventive ways of ‘sticking it to the man.’
They all piled into the RV with the goblins in the back and Pete, Sam, and Coop up front. The ferret sat on Pete’s shoulder, contentedly chewing on Copper Chew while Sam started the engine. Pete turned to her with a puzzled expression.
“How the hell are we gonna back out of this sand?”
She nodded toward Orin, who was standing in front of the vehicle, holding yet another strange-looking device in his hands.
“Orin’s got it covered. The guy’s got a million different gadgets, and they do some pretty incredible things. Next time you come here, we should try to pick a few things up. Some of that shit could be really useful in a fight.”
He turned to see that Orin was holding a metal handle in each hand while a ball of silver light swirled in the air between them, just in front of his chest. As the dwarf raised the device slightly, the entire RV was raised off the sand. The vehicle shuddered a little as it hovered in place, and then Orin pulled his left hand backward and moved his right forward a little, and the swirling ball of light shifted to more of an ovoid shape.
Responding to the strange device, the van slowly began to spin to the left. Sam sat with her arms crossed, grinning as their perspective shifted, moving away from the Pawn Broker tent to show first the surrounding dunes lit by moonlight and then the large triangular portal that led out onto a very ordinary-looking street back on Earth.
There was no sign of the Coinflayer Storm or any other enemies. It was like looking through a window into a perfectly mundane nighttime suburban scene.
A moment later, the RV was being gently propelled forward, edging through the portal and into the street beyond. They passed through the portal, and Jackpot alighted on the road, at which point Sam drove forward a short distance while the portal closed behind them.
She brought up the area map and displayed it between her and Pete. They could see the Coinflayer Storm down in the southwest of their position. It was a huge blob of violent red, which looked like a moving continent on the map, but Orin had managed to position them a good distance away from the storm and closer to the Novice Arena, which was their ultimate destination.
>> QUEST COMPLETE: Distract the Coinflayer!
Congratulations! You have successfully lured the Coinflayer storm away from the Novice Arena and provided a clear path to your destination. Put in terms of climbing a vast mountain, you haven’t quite reached base camp yet, but you’ve definitely arrived at the car park. Or rather, you’ve cleared enough snow to get to the car park. Baby steps!
QUEST REWARD: 5 Core Attribute Points.
Pete turned to Sam. “Did you just get that too?”
She nodded. “Yeah. We should spend these points before we get moving.”
“Agreed,” Pete said, opening up his profile and assessing his options.
Before making any changes, he leaned around and peered into the back cabin where Grizzle and Torgo were sitting next to Graig, staring at a holographic display hovering in front of the goblin.
“Did you get anything for that quest completion?” Pete asked.
Craig looked over, nodding. “Three Core Attribute points each. We are just determining how best to assign them.”
Pete turned back to his own display.
>> DOMINION ULTRIMAX PLAYER PROFILE
NAME: Pete – Vault Breaker, Dice Doomsayer
CLASS: Penny Pincher
LEVEL: Novice
>> CORE ATTRIBUTES:
Credit Rating [Constitution]: 4
Asset Leverage [Strength]: 9
Liquidity [Agility]: 24
Market Insight [Intelligence]: 0
Capital Stability [Wisdom]: 0
Investor Confidence [Charisma]: 2
Speculative Yield [Luck]: 5
Given the reality of their precarious circumstances, Pete seriously considered placing all five points into Luck, but he knew that the Luck Attribute didn’t so much govern the game reality as it controlled critical strike chance and other elements at play within a fight.
[Nero] I would suggest that a little attention to Luck is not unwarranted, Pete. As you begin to face higher-level enemies and head toward the arena boss, you will need an increased critical strike chance in order to have any chance of triggering high burst damage. For some elite enemies, if your Luck levels are too low, you will simply be unable to trigger a critical strike.
“Okay. I’ll drop one point in Luck, Wisdom, and Strength, and put two in Agility.”
[Nero] A good strategy. Agility is still the Penny Pincher’s primary Attribute, after all, and your class bonus has outsized benefits. Increased Agility will mean increased evasion, and, at higher levels, that can make you a formidable opponent. Adding a little to Wisdom is also recommended, given that it governs heightened perception.
“Still wish I could sink a bunch more points into Constitution, though. I know the evasion will make me harder to hit, but it feels weird having such a low Constitution.”
[Nero] This will always be a struggle any time you are forced to choose which Attributes to increase. It is simply not possible to spread points evenly and gain the necessary increases to maximize your class abilities. My advice would be to continue to focus on Agility as your primary Attribute, with Strength and Luck as secondary Attributes. You need only enough in the other areas to ensure that you do not pick up debuffs by falling too far behind.
“Debuffs like what?”
[Nero] If you were to leave your Wisdom at zero as you progress past the Novice Arena and move into the Initiate phase of the contest, for example, you may incur a perception debuff, which means you do not notice enemies until they are very near.
Sam snorted, shaking her head. “You know I can hear all of this, right? Your little Attribute conversation.”
Pete turned to her. “Shit, sorry. Forgot I was talking out loud there.”
She chuckled at that, shaking her head as she turned onto a main road and began to increase speed. Pete finished making the changes and took another look at his profile.
>> CORE ATTRIBUTES:
Credit Rating [Constitution]: 5
Asset Leverage [Strength]: 10
Liquidity [Agility]: 28
Market Insight [Intelligence]: 0
Capital Stability [Wisdom]: 1
Investor Confidence [Charisma]: 2
Speculative Yield [Luck]: 6
Pete looked down at the area map again, searching for some sign of Ollie. He could see that his friend had moved closer to the Novice Arena entrance. Pete pulled out his comms unit and sent a text to Ollie.
Pete: Got delayed. Just heading to the Novice Arena now. See you soon.
>> Send text? Yes/No [34 Belch bucks]
“What the fuck?!” Pete blurted. “Thirty-four bucks for a simple text?”
[Nero] You may remember, Pete, that you are charged 0.5 Belch Bucks per character for text messages sent via the Coinnect application.
Pete shook his head. “It’s fucking robbery.”
[Nero] The cost may seem quite steep at this early stage of the game, but as you acquire more wealth, you will find that the price for communications is insignificant in the scheme of things.
“Yeah, maybe if I didn’t have a Penny Pincher class, which means I lose most of my money as soon as I get it.” He threw a thumb over at Sam. “If it wasn’t for Sam bailing me out every other time, I’d be screwed.”
“Too right,” Sam said, turning out onto the main road and moving the RV into cruising speed.
Checking his dwindling reserves of currency, Pete sent the message and waited for a reply. Ollie came back almost immediately with a thumb’s up emoji.
Sam looked over, noting the emoji and chuckling once more. “Seems like he’s got a better handle on how to use that thing than you do.”
Pete shook his head. “Ollie’s always been a cheap bastard. He’s also really good at scrounging up a bargain or finding loopholes.”
Sam nodded. “Maybe that’s why he’s become a Reaver? He figures it’s the easiest way to get ahead in the game?”
“He’s not necessarily a Reaver. Maybe someone just attacked him, and he had to defend himself. He might not have had a choice.”
She held up four fingers. “Four ‘someones’ attacked him, remember, and he killed them all. Sure as hell seems like he’s chosen to be a Reaver.”
“Okay, so maybe you’re right. But that doesn’t mean he’s going to attack us. I know Ollie. He’s like a brother.”
They sat in silence for a time, both watching the road ahead and keeping an eye on the area map. Even with no other drivers on the road, Sam couldn’t drive too fast because of the number of parked cars scattered here and there. Some had been involved in accidents, while others had been abandoned or their drivers and passengers had been eradicated when the contest first began.
They could also still hear the Coinflayer Storm in the distance, rumbling menacingly behind them. It all gave the journey a sinister air, and Pete felt a terrible sense of foreboding as though something terrible was heading their way. That sense of unease grew worse as he remembered the central rationale behind the Mammon System and the contest more generally.
Excitement.
“Feels like we’re heading into something bad,” Sam said, obviously feeling a similar sense of unease.
“Yeah. The System doesn’t like it when things are calm for too long. I figure it’s cooking something up for us to make things more exciting.”
“Because a giant storm dropping Warpspawn monsters on our heads wasn’t enough?”
Pete shook his head. “That was hours ago. I also don’t think the feeds would have shown anything while we were with Orin. To most people, it would have just looked like we drove into a portal and vanished for a couple of hours.”
[Nero] That is correct, Pete. And I would suggest that your sense of unease is entirely justified. Given that the System has placed a special focus on you at this early stage of the contest, it seems likely that it will devise another challenge for you and deliver that challenge soon.
“Well,” Sam said, patting the dashboard of the RV, “at least we’ve got Jackpot now. She’s all tooled up too, so we’re in much better shape than we were before.”
“She?” Pete asked, turning to face her with a smile.
“Yeah. Jackpot’s a female.”
“Says who?”
Sam frowned. “She’s a caregiver. We ride inside her, and she gives us food and shelter. Of course, she’s a she.”
“Plus, she doesn’t have a pecker,” Coop added.
Pete chuckled at that. “Fine, Jackpot’s a she then.”
He was going to expound on that thought when he and Sam both caught sight of something hovering in the middle of the road up ahead. Unlike the surrounding area, it shone with vivid green and gold light, a giant goblin head hovering above the road.
Sam slowed the RV to a crawl as they approached the giant head. Pete recognized it as the Overseer figure that had announced the commencement of the contest the previous morning. The figure boasted the same bejeweled nose ring and permanent smirk as it spoke in a voice that filled the area while simultaneously being channeled directly into Pete’s HUD.
>> Greetings, Vault Breaker! It is I, Augustus Greedwell, Principal Profit Pimp and Overseer of the Sol Contest Domain. I come with wonderful news!
Pete felt his stomach tighten in response to the holographic apparition. ‘Wonderful news’?
This was going to be bad.