Lieforged Gale

“So, lass,” the noobherd asked as we pushed our way towards an overgrown road. “What’s your name?”

“Kyosei Keiko,” I told him, then hastily added, “Ah, but the second part is my name. First is family.”

“Nice to meet you, Ms Kyosei,” he said politely. “I’m Mr MacLeod.”

“Good to meet you too,” I said absently, my thoughts focused on our surroundings rather than him.

The craggy mountains surrounding us on all sides were beginning to brighten with day, but as the sun tracked across the sky, there were clouds moving to block it. Between the rock-strewn ridges, lush valleys teemed with vegetation and fauna. Then, on the low hills, farmland had been carved out of the scrub and woodland. Now, it was wild with gorse and windswept trees.

Since the nation was based loosely on medieval Scotland, it just sort of looked like that. There were lowlands as well, with lush forests and woodland, but all the crazy shit happened up here in the hills. The weather was just as trash too, skies always grey, and when they weren’t it was like the deep blue of the heavens was sucking the heat out of the world.

MacLeod led me over one of the crumbling stone walls and onto an overgrown lane that was in the process of being reclaimed by bramble and blackberry bushes. The road was in serious need of pothole maintenance too, or maybe it should have been flattening now, considering some parts were more pothole than actual road.

“I’ll take you back to the outpost first,” he explained as we wove our way around puddles and brambles. “It’s in the old village, from before the goblins raided this area. There’s other newly risen Wayfarers there that you can join up with, assuming that’s what you’d like to do.”

“We’ll see,” I shrugged. I wanted to see how this class handled combat, but I wasn’t sure about linking up with any other players yet. It wasn’t long before the outpost came into view, thankfully. I wanted to get into the action!

The old village had gained a loose stone wall which connected all the closest houses. Any that had fallen outside that area had been stripped for materials to build it, leaving only patches of gravel and brush. Watch towers stood at either end of the single street, keeping guard over the gates.

There were perhaps fifteen buildings total, constructed out of stone and wood from the surrounding hills. The most notable exceptions to the otherwise fairly uniform village were the general store, inn, barracks, and temple.

The inn was actually three stories tall, although the third was little more than a glorified attic space. The barracks was a single storey affair with a courtyard, and the temple was… just stone and thatch like everything else, but it had a little tower at the back.

The guards didn’t seem interested in stopping us as we approached the gate, since we didn’t have pale green skin. Rather hard to infiltrate a place when you looked entirely different. They still watched me though, and it was in a way I hadn’t ever experienced before. I shivered and stepped closer to Mr MacLeod. It wasn’t like, an evil stare or anything, but it was unnerving nevertheless. Like a child making eye contact with you on a bus and they just don’t stop for the whole journey.

“Now that we’re here,” MacLeod said, turning to face me once we’d passed through the gate. “How much help would you like? I’m willing to run you through the various ins and outs of being a wayfarer. Of course, some of you know more than others, so it’s customary to ask how much you’d need.”

“Is there anything big happening around here that I should know about?” I asked, gesturing towards the sky to indicate a broader area. “The Kingdom, that kind of thing. I’m familiar with the highlands otherwise.”

“There’s a tourney being held down in Benamore, but other’n that, it’s all quiet,” he replied after a moment’s thought. “Even the goblins have been quiet recently, although that makes me more suspicious than at ease.”

“Well, the tourney doesn’t interest me, so I guess I’ll go find some other wayfarers to kill some goblins with,” I shrugged. “Thanks for guiding me here, though.”

“Not a problem,” he said, giving a little friendly bow. “If you need any help, I’ll be at the barracks.”

"Thanks," I smiled, turning to head for the Inn. I was interrupted by a horn sounding from one of the watchtowers. A notification popped up into my vision, demanding attention.

Warning to all wayfarers! Goblins are descending upon the outpost! As per the wishes of the gods, all who shelter within the inn will be spared. However, experience, riches, and fame await those who stand in defense of the hamlet! Be brave, chosen of the gods!

I drew my sword. Goblins were easy.

MacLeod pulled his axe from his belt and faced the gate. "Looks like you'll get to kill some goblins sooner rather than later."

I just nodded, watching as other players rushed to the gate to join in the defense of the outpost. Oh geez, okay. Time to get familiar with my abilities real quick, huh?

First, I shifted my grip in just the right way to activate my imbue strike ability. There wasn't an enemy to use it on yet, I just wanted  to see what it would do, and was surprised when my blade lit up with a sort of white and pink energy. Okay. Interesting. The tooltip said it had armour penetration properties now.

Next came imbue parry, which lit the sword up with a sort of blackened pink energy. As with the first one, the colours didn't exactly mix on the blade. Instead, they slid against each other like a double hued oil slick. When I inspected the effect of the parry ability, my buffs told me that any strike that was blocked by the blade would have 60% of its force cancelled out. Stagger resistance, basically.

My third ability was named graceful spin, and it was one that I would have to practice. Grip and hand gesture activated abilities like my first two were easy. This one, on the other hand, was much more involved.

Still, I could give it a good attempt in battle. A quick look at the guide video showed me spinning on the spot at high speed, my sword whipping out to deal a deadly strike to an enemy. I'd have to keep the movement in mind in the battle. Hopefully, I could pull it off.

Deception strike was the last, and it was by far the coolest. Couldn't wait to use it to bamboozle my enemy into running themselves through on my sword. Its activation moves were specific finger placements on the grip, combined with any attacking motion.

This was so cool! It was fun as hell seeing how real kenjutsu techniques were integrated into the game systems! Oh man, after playing an archer for so long, this was going to be fun. Oh, I bet Paisley would find this interesting—

My mood wilted. I'd instinctively turned and opened my mouth to speak, but the space where my best friend would have stood was filled by some random dude giving me the side eye. Sadness gripped my heart, but I shoved it back with a flash of morose anger.

When it'd happened, Marlon had just screamed at me, calling me a garbage person, and threw me out on my ass. If I’d been given the chance to apologise, to make it up to him and everyone else, I fucking would have. If I could've explained that the stupid dumb gamer word had been bouncing around in my head recently, and that it just slipped out… But no, instead, there’d been nothing. He wanted me gone, so I was gone.

If I hadn't immediately unfriended everyone… but that had been… I mean, Marlon had shown me the direct messages. They didn’t want me in the guild. They valued the integrity of the guild over their friendships with me. It was that simple, and yet, I still felt like I’d deserved a chance to speak to Paisley at the very least. But no, she’d voted to kick me just like everyone else. All it had taken for her and everyone else to throw our friendships away was one fuck up. No benefit of the doubt, no attempt to get me to apologise.

What was worse was that they knew I was chill with gay dudes. I’d even said Marlon and Ethan were cute together multiple times. Like come on, twunky tank and his lanky, confidently nerdy healer boyfriend? It was adorable. Was. Then he had gone and ruined everything, for me, and eventually, for himself. Assuming Ethan hadn’t had a personality transplant and was okay with… well, it wasn’t my business anymore.

My anger dipped back into a sort of hollow sadness, and the thoughts of self hate returned. It was still shitty to throw a slur like that, no matter the reasons. Actually, it was probably worse that I said it, rather than some rando, because things like that hit harder when you weren't braced for it.

My grip on my katana hardened. That anger just now was exactly the kind of shitty mental that got me into this mess in the first place. Chill, dude. Chill. Be chill.

When the goblins came into view, I resolved to work my feelings out on them. They were so gross looking, and their wild red eyes were bloodshot and feral. I’d heard that one of the lore devs—One of the newly discovered and emancipated Sentient AI—had admitted that if the game hadn’t been designed to accommodate some of the more common triggers that people had, the goblins would have been worse.

Gravel crunched under our feet as we moved out through the gate to meet them. Apart from me, there were ten other players, plus eight guards on the defending side. The players were all new spawns like me, but one of them stood out. He had a bastard sword that looked way nicer than anything he’d have spawned with. When I focused on it, I got a little information. It was crafted by a higher level player, probably an alternate character of his, and it wasn’t half bad either.

He caught me peeking at his sword and met my eyes with a smile. “Nice sword.”

He was taller than me, obviously, and with a short scraggly beard. His hair was brown and long but not overly so, and his eyes were dark. He was basically the picture of the rakish vagabond type. A tiny, insistent part of my mind told me to check him out, see if I felt anything since I was now a girl in the game… but apparently where dark handsome men were concerned, I had eyes, but further than that, I remained unfazed.

“Thanks,” I replied quietly, giving the sword a second glance before I turned my attention to our enemies. Maybe I could get into crafting this time?

I couldn’t count how many goblins there were, their formation was too chaotic, but it had to be around fifty or so. Their feet kicked up mud and dust as they charged us, hollering a rasping, hissing battle cry.

Some of the other players met them with a sort of warbling, uncertain call of their own, but it was a little underwhelming. They weren’t a particularly inspiring lot, if I was honest, but they were newbies. It was expected.

The goblins closed the charge with a leap, and I automatically stepped to the side while shielding myself with my sword, where it skittered off the flat of my blade. An upward slice from there and the goblin’s throat was cut. A small, tasteful amount of blood splashed out of the wound along with the number that signified the damage I did, and the body fell lifeless to the ground.

I was already moving, twisting into the graceful spin ability. Onehanded, my blade flicked out to scrape across goblin ribs, dealing significant but not lethal damage. It howled in rage, its ugly face scrunching up like a snot-soaked handkerchief. Stepping back, I imbued my blade with the power of pink, and jammed it up his nostril. Its eyes rolled back in its head, and I kicked it in the chest to free my blade from its skull.

Next to me, a girl cried out in surprise, a club taking her in the stomach. I stepped in and used my deception strike, throwing an obvious—but illusory—swing at the head of the goblin attacking her. The goblin clumsily but successfully moved to block the attack. When it failed to connect with anything, the goblin’s eyes widened in confused panic.

My true swing came from beneath, imbued with power. It went right through the elbow, sending the arm holding the club spinning free. My follow-up stab through the heart ended it.

Oh geez, that ability was just as cool as I was hoping!

The goblins might have been the same height as me, but they were only level one, and with my sword and this new class, I may as well have been ten levels above them.

“Thank you,” the girl gasped, clutching at her chest.

I looked her up and down, noting the twin daggers in her hands. Ouch. I had a feeling this was her first VR game, because unlike in normal games, something like twin daggers were not a first-time friendly weapon. It took a great deal of real skill to use something like that, but a lot of people got caught up in the idea of playing as a rogue.

“Drink a potion,” I told her, my voice soft and a little shy. “Stay next to me.”

She was a lot taller than me, almost a foot in fact, and it meant I had to stare up at her. It was a perspective I didn’t have a lot of experience with. Her character was also kinda hot, in a tomboyish way. ‘Soft butch’ was the term, I think?

If I hadn’t been so distracted by the grateful smile she’d given me, I might have seen the crossbow pointed at me. The crude bolt took me in the shoulder, and dull pain bloomed out from the wound.

Hissing more with irritation than pain, I pulled it out and threw it right back at the goblin. The throw didn’t do any damage, but it caused the goblin to hop out of the way. I considered using the time to drink a health potion of my own, but the bolt hadn’t done too much damage to me, and pain within Rellithesh was capped out at a bearable level.

As I hesitated, one of the crossbow goblin’s buddies took the opportunity to rush me with an axe and a wailing screech. It was almost too simple to step slightly to one side and cut forward with both hands. It was such a standard move, pretty much anyone would recognise it. Anyone except a goblin piloted by an AI that was even less intelligent than average for the newest line of AI—You know, the ones that couldn't randomly gain sentience and rightfully lobby for personhood and rights.

Anyway, I had a new target now—That motherfucker with the crossbow needed to die— and I was going to cut my way through these fools until I took care of it. To my surprise, the girl stepped up beside me and reached out to stab a goblin in the chest. She took a hit from it in return, but I guess the she had more grit than I’d given her credit for. In my battle focused mind, she was tentatively recategorised as someone who would have my back.

Cutting down another goblin, I positioned myself so that we covered each other’s flanks as we pressed forward. Then, on my other side, the guy with the crafted sword took out my next target before I could. Both flanks secure, then.

The goblin with the crossbow sent another bolt in my direction, but I was waiting this time, and jerked quickly to the side. By the noise, it hit someone else behind me. I winced, but kept my eyes on the mission and dashed forward, performing another spin to cut at the eyes of the last goblin in the way. It fell back with a screech, and was promptly run through by sword-dude.

That was all I needed to leap over the falling creature and thrust my katana out like a lance. The tip impaled the little shithead’s chest, and my slight weight punched it through the other side. It wasn’t the most eloquent little maneuver, but he was dead, so whatever. Plus, the large damage number that came flying out seemed to agree with my assessment that dead was dead. Gotta love that number-go-up dopamine.

Now we just had to do that to like, a dozen more goblins and we’d be finished. Within my heart, though, a little droplet of happiness dripped into my stomach. I was actually, maybe, possibly, having fun with this. At least, if the little smile I could feel on my perfectly curved lips was anything to go by.