I startle awake, surprised to have slept. Twenty four days, twelve hours remain. I slept half the day away. I should regret wasting time, but I don't. I needed the break, all of this violence and stress is so unlike the life I lived before. Work, raising my daughter, finding spare moments to spend time with my wife. Those are stressors I’m used to. My mind seems sharper, memories more intact, after I sleep. An icon with three z’s pops up under my health bar.

  Rested - 1000% increase to experience gains - Duration 6 hours

  That ought to help with leveling. Since I hit level 42 my gains have slowed to a crawl, spending time doing anything other than killing. Sitting up, I finally notice the players crowding around me, shouting in my face. Without unmuting them, I walk through the crowd like a ghost. They can’t physically restrain me if we aren't in combat, their wild swinging and crude emotes ineffective as I pass. Bert serves me another pig n’ piss meal before I head out for the day, I take my time, closing my eyes to chew. Someday I’ll have my own place like Peter, where nobody can bother me. That will probably happen sooner than these idiots leave me alone. Are they mad that I’m hacking, or that they can’t get away with doing it themselves?

  I wish I had a few good hacks up my sleeve. The slog ahead of me is daunting. Three weeks to level fifty seven more times before I can even think about scrounging up the gold to pay off my game time. I don’t even know where to go next. The King Emperor and his… clone? Child? didn’t give me a new quest. I look over to the quests section of my interface, watching it blink. I mentally click on it, opening a new window called Next Steps.

  Quest available: Thunder God’s Belt

  Quest available: Thunder God’s Iron Gauntlets

  Quest available: Thunder God’s Shield

  Quest available: Thunder God’s Chariot

  Quest available: Uniting the Forces

  Quest available: Meet the Paragons

  Huh. I wonder how long I’ve been able to see the quests available to me. The last quest listed calls to me for some reason, so I select it.

  Meet the Paragons Accepted!

  Enter the Halls of Honor and meet the other Paragons. 0/1

  The map marker is on the rich side of town, where the Honorlord lives. I take my time, smelling the roses. Unfortunately even the nicer area doesn't have roses, or gardens. The whole city is one big war machine, preparing to do battle with any number of enemies beyond the gates. Orcs bark orders at cyclops, building new structures. Minotaur haul supplies from place to place. Goblins try their best not to get stepped on. I finally reach the Halls of Honor, an out-of-place viking inspired building. The peak of the tile roof has crossed dragon heads carved out of wood, resting atop walls that serve as murals for great battles. I’m not sure how I hadn't noticed it before.

  As I walk up the first new steps leading inside the portal arch, I realize my hangers-on are no longer with me. Turning, the angry mob has gathered at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at me, unmoving. They throw no tomatoes, or insults. Neat. I leave them behind. The loading screen shows the interior of a vast dining hall, warmly lit, long tables with fine food piled high. Several decorated heroes sit, rapt attention on the solitary standing figure, clearly recounting tales of their heroic deeds.

  Seconds after the loading screen dissipates, I find myself pressed against a wall, one arm over my shoulder, a face inches from mine. The face breathes deep, flat green nose taking in my scent. “New blood.” The towering orc woman greets me. My audio seems to have automatically unmuted.

  Moi ensuite

  “Uh, hi” I say, looking around for a way out. All I can see is the figure towering over me. She has red eyes like low flames, the braided blonde hair of a shield maiden. Scars crisscross her face and exposed, ample chest. The bicep next to my ear flexes.

  “What’s your class?” She asks.

  “Aren't you going to take me to dinner first?” I joke. The orc grins down at me.

  “Come on, let’s introduce you to the others” She releases me, walking around and further into the hall. I take a second to slow my heart before following her. What’s with orc women and coming onto me within seconds of our meeting?

  “We’ve got fresh meat!” She announces to the gathered masses. Four Paragons are arranged around the room, most minding their own business.

  A lion beastman clad in shining golden armor stands to greet me. He shakes my hand.

  “Oreskos” he says. “Pleased to meet you.” His mane lays white hair on his white furred head. One of his eyes is closed, a jagged scar across the lid. The golden plate covering every inch of his body below the neck contrasts the barely armored orc that cornered me. She wears sparse leather strips, bound tightly.

  “Earl.” I tell him. The orc throws her arm around his shoulders, grinning.

  “What, no title?” She asks, Oreskos shrugs her off with a glare.

  “You’re one to talk, Helga the Bloodthirsty. I bet you didn’t even tell him your name yet” Another figure speaks, emerging from further behind them. A great floating skeleton clad in black cloth and golden jewelry joins us in the warm torchlight. “Archlich Pelgingose, at your service.” I look over his broad shoulder at the last member of this little group, unmoving from the far corner. “That’s Tim the Alchemist. He’ll come greet you in his own time.”

  “Nice to meet you.” I tell the boney wizard.

  “So, what’s your class?” Helga asks. I wonder why she can’t just see it, before noticing there’s no floating names above their heads, classes or levels. This hall is preventing some aspects of the game interface.

  “Weaponmaster.” I tell her.

  “Ooooh. New one!” She nods in approval. “What’s your deal, Weaponmaster?”

  “I command floating weapons” I put simply.

  “Like Ultima form?” Tim asks from a distance

  “I have no idea!” I respond. “I’m only level forty three so there might be more to it than that. There seems to be a Thor theme emerging.”

  “Oh my god Chris Hemsworth can get it!” Helga moans. The two at her side roll their eyes, at least the lion does. The skeleton has red glowing orbs in his sockets that do not have pupils, and yet, I get the distinct feeling he rolled them.

  “What’re your classes, if you don’t mind my asking?” I inquire politely.

  “Berserker!” Helga flexes.

  “Paladin.” Oreskos tells me.

  “The most basic bitch class” Helga says, earning a scowl. “What?”

  “I am a necromancer, though I am not just the paragon of my class, I am the pinnacle of intellect-based classes as a whole.” Pelgingose informs me.

  “Hashtag Humble brag” Helga says, elbowing Oreskos. He shoos her away. “Tim’s an alchemist, obviously.”

  “Right” I agree. “So what’s a Paragon, exactly, and what makes me one?” I finally ask. Pelgingose makes a sound like clearing his throat, without the requisite esophagus.

  “Paragons are the highest ranked members of their class. Among our colleagues, we have the most accomplishments. Through dungeon clearing, player versus player combat, or sheer levels.” He gestures to a flat stone monument standing near the entrance of the hall. “Using the stone, you can see how you compare to others. Some choose to monitor the rankings very closely, so they never lag behind their competition.” He gestures with his head at Helga. She punches him in the shoulder, his body sounds like a wind chime in a hurricane. “Ouch.”

  I walk to the stone, placing my hand on the surface. Text forms under my fingers.

  Weaponmaster Rankings

  Earl

  “I’m the only one in the rankings.” I inform them before they see for themselves.

  “That makes sense.” says Oreskos. “I’ve never heard of your class before.” The others nod in agreement. He starts to say something else, before a chime sounds. They all stiffen, then pose themselves separately around the room, becoming living statues.

  “Media” Helga hisses, trying to warn me. I’m still caught off guard as a gaggle of players swarm though the entrance, looking around frantically. One of them spots me, and the rest follow them to surround me.

  “Paragon, is it true that you’ve been hacking the game?” One of them shouts. I notice all of them have one eye glazed over, they’re recording this.

  “Paragon, do you have a response to Thunderspank’s accusation that you somehow stole his equipment?” Another asks, before I could even open my mouth to respond to the first question. A third and forth shout their questions as well, but are cut off as Thunderspank rounds the corner and marches directly up to me. One of his bovine eyes is smokey as well.

  “Sup.” He asks. The crowd around us is still and silent, waiting for whatever happens next.

  If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

  “Not much.” I respond. “What’s up with you?” Thunderspank seems surprised by my casual response to his casual question.

  “So,” he picks up the conversation, if you could call it that. “A couple days back my account gets hacked, my equipment gets sold off, and the profits sent away to a character that no longer exists. pretty standard stuff.” he turns to the crowd. “Not standard, however, is my Spankies telling me that some Earl guy is running around in my gear!” he turns to me, a finger almost poking my chest.

  “Er…” I try to speak

  “You hacked my account, and pretended to be some armor vendor N.P.C. to cover the tracks!” he accuses

  “That’s not…”

  “But the Game Monitors have my back!” he takes the time to nod to each of the people nearby. “They restored my account in a timely fashion, with all of my equipment and other items!”

  “Are you giving them a five star review while you’re yelling at me?” I ask incredulously. He turns on me with a furious expression.

  “The Monitors do the hard, thankless work behind the scenes that no one sees!” He continues screaming. “The only question is…” now he poses, finger outstretched towards me. “Is why you’re not banned!”

  “Because I’m not hacking and the monitors know that.” I say, crossing my arms. “I’m an innocent bystander caught up in extraordinary circumstances.”

  “Right.” Thunderspank also crosses his arms. “Innocent. That's how you ended up here, in the Halls of Honor, with some made-up class that you hacked into the game with my equipment!”

  “That’s actually the closest to the truth you’ve gotten so far, well done.” I remark “Still a ways off though.”

  “So you admit it?” he puffs out his chest.

  “I did not hack and I am not currently hacking.” I insist.

  “This is getting us nowhere.” he shakes his head. “My spankies will be keeping an eye on you, Earl, and through them, I.” he says, with a deeper voice like he’s Batman. I do not respond, letting him march out of the halls, crowd in tow. The others slowly make their way back over to me, releasing the tension in their body language as the chime sounds again.

  “Cameras off?” Helga asks, looking at the other two.

  “Off.” reports Oreskos

  “Off.” agrees Pelgingose

  “Your cam off, Tim?” Helga shouts across the room.

  “I’m never recording.” Tim says without shouting, just barely loud enough for us to hear.

  “So you’ve met Thunderspank, huh?” Helga asks

  “Met is a strong word” I tell her

  “Are you hacking?” Oreskos asks. “Cams off, you can tell us.”

  “No.” I say. They wait for more details, I give them none.

  “Unfortunately it would only cause you more trouble to be seen with us.” Oreskos says, seeming to justify why none of them stepped in during that exchange.

  “We’ve all got our own reputations to look out for.” Pelgingose chimes in. “It wouldn't do to be associated with a hacker, even someone accused of such.”

  “Right.” I say. “So you’re all celebrities or something?”

  “We’re Paragons,” Begins Oreskos. “Being the best of the best comes with a lot of attention, sponsorships, interviews.”

  “For a video game?” I ask, unbelieving.

  “Yes,” Pelgingose answers. “Video games have been a big business since The Return To Normalcy act was passed.” The others nod along. “You can make a living being a Crossroads Online Streamer. We do.” I remember streamers from the very early 20's. I never paid them much attention.

  “You should probably start streaming yourself. You’re a Paragon.” Oreskos tells me. “You’d never have to work a day in your life.”

  “Hey, being a streamer is work” Helga says. The others roll their eyes.

  “Not interested.” I tell them, getting ready to leave.

  “If you ever need to talk to us, shoot a message in Paragon chat. You should have a new tab on your friends list. It’s totally private, our viewers can’t see it, not even the monitors.” Helga says, reaching for my arm.

  “What?” I choke, my heart suddenly in my throat. The Monitor can’t see communications between Paragons? I clear my throat. “Ok, good to know, thank you.” I play it off.

  “See you around” Helga winks at me.

  Wink back!

  No.

  How are we supposed to make sweet love to that specimen of feminine divinity if you won’t make a move?

  We?

  You’d let me watch at least, no?

  I silently pray for some way to mute the damned spear.

  I decide to check out the chariot quest. I’m not necessarily bored of my warg, but variety is the spice of life, and I never got the chance to replace my commuter car. Even after it was well past its prime.

  Thunder God’s Chariot accepted!

  Defeat Toothgrinder and Toothgnasher 0/1

  “Huh. have all of my quests had thorough descriptions?” I ask no one. The chariot quest presents a new window filled with background info.

  “The patron god of Weaponmasters, Thozur, rides into battle on a mighty chariot, pulled by his caprine companions, Toothgrinder and Toothgnasher. The pair wait for their master on the peaks of J?tunheim, unwilling to pull any other master that cannot prove themselves equal in strength to Thozur. As a Weaponmaster, you have the unique opportunity to prove your might to the ornery couple. Ascend, and earn the goat’s respect.”

  The quest marker leads me to the mountain peak where I got my ass kicked by the yeti. Hopefully that doesn’t bode ill for this quest. I mount up and get moving, Knowing the way up cuts my travel time down by half. I spot my targets in the snowdrift, leaned over a third figure on the ground. As I get closer, the figure is revealed to be a giant’s corpse two massive goats are feasting on.

  “BEHH” one of the goats, Toothgrinder, bleats at me. They lower their head, charging.

  “Woah!” I shout, dismounting my warg and putting my shield in front of me. The barrier stops the goat in it’s tracks. As we stand off, the other goat, Toothgnaser, rounds me, almost slamming into my back before I put my spear between us. I can’t overcome their strength, being slowly crushed to death between them, in a trash compactor of my own creation.

  I cast Thunder God, electric power courses through me.. I cast Thunder Clap, striking both goats at the same time. They bleat and back off, regrouping a short distance away. Ready this time, when they charge together, I cast Wall of Swords. They can’t stop their own momentum, and pierce themselves on the blades. When the Wall finally dissipates, I already have Circular Saw in orbit mode waiting for the pair.

  “MEHEH” Toothgnasher bleats, as the spinning bolt smacks him across the face. It spins so fast, it makes three more strikes on each of them before they move out of the way. I cast Chain Lightning Bolt from safety, preparing myself for the next rotation of spells that will bring the goats closer to defeat. Circular Saw ends, replaced by Illusory Clone. Bolt decides that it should be wielded using the clone’s thighs instead of its hands, I stare dumbly at the gyrating bolt as it wobbles at the goats. Momentarily distracted, I almost forget to cast Telekinetic Taunt to keep the goat’s attention on the clone. Whoops.

  I’ve always been curious if using another ability while the clone is active would cancel it. Upon casting Tornado Edge, my curiosity is sated. The clone vanishes as Bolt appears next to the goats, spinning in a deadly cyclone. They try to push through to me, constantly battered by lightning. When the spinning finally stops, the goats have only a moment’s peace before Split Sword peppers them with hornets of electricity. Somehow the pair are still standing when that spells ends, so we start this dance from the top with Thunder God again. I cycle through my full list of spells two more times before they finally give up the goat. Hah.

  Thunder God’s Chariot completed!

  Thunder God’s Chariot added to Mount Collection.

  Oh? I open my Mount Collection menu, finding my familiar warg alongside the new addition.

  “BEEEH!” One of them screams as the chariot appears under my feet. Designed like a miniature viking longship, the ornate carved wood and gold chariot leashes the two goats in front of it. I grab the reins, urging them forward. It functions identically to my warg, only differing aesthetically.

  Maybe I have time for another Thunder God quest.

  Thunder God’s Iron Gauntlets accepted.

  Reach into the Storm 0/1

  “The mighty hammer Thunderhead, once wielded by Thozur, required strength beyond even the mighty god’s. One half of his empowering armor, Stromgrippers, enabled Thozur to swing his great weapon. With three tools in his possession, Thozur slew giants with such enthusiasm and thoroughness that those few who remained desperately cast a spell to create a permanent blizzard on the peak of Mount J?tunheim. They hide there to this day. To hold thunder in one’s grasp, one must be willing to reach into the heart of the storm and claim its power.”

  The quest marker is... above me? I look up, squinting at the blinding white of the blizzard. I’m at the peak of the mountain already. How am I supposed to get up there, wherever there is?

  Ride the lightning! Bolt says, apropos of nothing.

  I look at my chariot, noticing a horseshoe shape at the end of the wood beam between the goats. I release Bolt from my grip, the spear floats over to the slot and gently lowers onto it.

  Conditions met! Thunder Beam unlocked.

  Conditions? I didn’t even know I’ve been working towards unlocking something. The new spell, Thunder Beam, does not appear on my action bar. When I activate Thunder God, it is among those temporary spells.

  Thunder Beam - No cooldown - Continuous duration - Deal electric damage in a straight line to the first target in the beam’s path.

  Interesting. I cast the spell, generating an arcing, steaming beam of electricity extending a few yards in front of me. The beam breaks apart the longer it travels, becoming a loose bouquet of lightning bolts at the end. I channel the spell into Bolt on instinct.

  Flying temporarily unlocked!

  Alright now we’re getting somewhere! I grab the reins and guide the goats up. How exactly I’m not sure, it must be a magical version of the command to make a horse jump. I’m not a trained rider, in this life or the one before. We ascend, reaching the clouds shortly.

  One cloud stands out, dark and menacing, shooting bolts of electricity that turn the clouds that wander near it into rising steam. How does that work? Aren't clouds already made of steam? I just chalk it up to magic.

  Reach into the storm. That’s all the quest says. I guide my chariot up next to the cloud, like I’m about to order at a drive-thru. I reach one hand in, nothing happens. Reaching in with both hands also produces no results. Hmm. All of these quests have a sort of ‘prove your worthiness’ vibe to them. I retreat, lining up to charge straight into the cloud. Arms extended in front of me, as though I plan to embrace the cloud in a hug, we charge forward.

  My world is damp darkness as we enter the cloud, illuminated only by regular arcs striking my hands. When we reach the other side, my hands are covered in rune-etched plates, replacing the steel gloves I wore moments before.

  Thunder God’s Iron Gauntlets completed!

  Stormgrippers, Thunder God’s Iron Gauntlets added to inventory.

  Stormgrippers, Thunder God’s Iron Gauntlets - Epic gloves - Requires Level 40 - Low Strength - Minimum Armor

  Low strength, huh? Definitely an upgrade over my bronze ones. I equip the new gloves, feeling the power coursing through my veins. I’m nowhere near the strength I had formerly with Thunderspank’s gear, but these bridge the gap a teeny little bit. I’m going to kick some serious ass with these.

  “Millie, you’re up.” Ms. Rogers announces after the last student’s presentation wraps up.

  Millie rises from her desk, already nervously clearing her throat. She's dressed in her typical dark attire, but she wore a tie today for the presentation. It was a sarcastic gesture, but the teacher gives her points for it nonetheless.

  “Events that shaped you.” she reads from her powerpoint. The next slide is a picture of a much younger version of herself held by a man. He’s got red hair and a genuine smile, hugging the smaller millie far too tight. “When I was nine years old, my father was in a head-on collision with a truck. Going highway speeds, the crews sent to clean up struggled to find what remained of his car. My father was a cautious man, always mindful of our safety and his. So of course he was wearing his seatbelt at the time. That didn’t save him however, as he was crushed on impact.”

  “Alright Ms. Walton, I think that’s enough.” Ms Rogers exits out her presentation.

  “Did I get an A?” Millie turns to stare at her without moving from her spot. Her teacher stares, furious. Millie stares right back, a mischievous look on her face.

  “Yes. Now take your seat, please.”