Alexei Tripmiov [Tripmiov - Jerry, God of Morn’a Doon

Copyright 2018 by the author. All rights reserved.

All characters in this story are entirely fictitious, with no relationship to any person, living or dead. Except for Jerry, who bears a passing resemblance to the young Macaulay Culkin.

Bounty Harlot: A World of Brutalia LitRPG

Death had changed.

Dying used to be simple and straightforward, with your avatar crumpling to the ground, trembling a few times, then expiring, often with an arm across the forehead. It was clean and basic, and you spawned back at your binding point immediately and did a corpse run to pick up your gear.

This, though

This was pretty sick.

HELP MEEEE! Ken wailed again. He played a gnome enchanter. The bearded little creature writhed on the ground, blood pouring out of multiple wounds to his neck and upper body.

They had been fighting a band of kobolds and Ken had tried a new spell on them, one he had been looking forward to using, Enchant Group. I can enslave them all for like, two minutes, he said, if it works. We can have them all fight each other. Or whatever.

Can we put them to work on my quilts? Craig had asked. Craig played some quirky composite character, some enchanter/crafter hybrid. He spent as much time working on quilts and serapes as he did going on raids with the rest of them.

You want to start a quilting club with a bunch of kobolds?

Craig had shrugged. They have high dexterity. Im just saying. It should be possible.

It was a moot point, though, because the spell failed, and seven or eight kobolds descended on Ken, hacking and stabbing at him with their daggers. He went down fast, his AC was so low. The rest of the group spent a minute taking out the kobolds, Jake the warrior laying them out with his twin swords, Austin the ranger planting arrows in one after another of them, Wayne the rogue doing his backstab thing, and Craig throwing a few desultory, low-impact fireballs.

Now Ken was dying, a drag, certainly, Austin reflected, but as soon as he died they would wait for him while he spawned and did his corpse run. Wait for him while resting up, binding wounds, replenishing mana.

But Ken hadnt died yet. He was busy dying right now, right in front of them, and in painful, dramatic fashion, in the middle of a field of green below a cloudy sky. It was springtime in Morna Doon, with flowers bursting all over the fields, and the sky alternating from moment to moment between rain and sunshine. A cool breeze carried the smell of sweet pollen to Austin. Somehow everything was more real, more intense. The scent of the fields, the light sprinkle of spring rain on his face, even the iron smell of Kens blood.

He looked over at Jake again. The warrior shrugged his shoulders inside his form-fitting plate armor. I have no idea whats going on.

Maybe its a new patch, Wayne said. He played a dark elf with a platinum afro, a rogue in dark clothing, leather armor almost as dark as his jet black skin. For more realism or something.

It hurts! It really freaking hurts!

Maybe its not really Ken. Maybe its some kind of NPC that takes over when youre dying, for the sake of, veris, uh, whatever that word is.

Verisimilitude, Austin said.

Yeah, whatever. Realism.

Its me! Ken shrieked.

Wayne bent down next to the tortured gnome and shouted into his ear. Is that really you, Kenny?

Yes its me! OWWWWWW!!!

I dont think its him, Wayne concluded, standing. Lets loot these fuckers and wait for Ken to oww! Christ! Oww!

What is it? Jake asked, drawing his twin swords, the long bastard sword in one hand, the short scimitar in the other.

It feels like I just got stabbed in the fucking ass oww! with a needle or rapier or some goddam oww!

Abruptly the clouds parted and a spotlight of sunshine burst through. In the blue sky appeared a shimmering form, a twisted tadpole of a thing resembling, remarkably, a human fetus. Quite remarkably. Actually, it was a human fetus. But one with a booming voice; it opened its minuscule mouth: GRATUITOUS CURSING WILL NO LONGER BE TOLERATED IN THE WORLD OF MORNA DOON.

Whoa, Wayne said, is that a talking fetus? What the fuck? Ah! Ai! Ouch!

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED! The fetus dissolved back into the patch of blue sky, the light faded, and the cloudy day returned.

Wayne shook his head, rubbing his rear end. That was really fu ah, really darned weird.

It actually hurt? What the little zygote did to you?

Yes, it really hurt. Wayne glowered at him. Pretty weird. A little monster like the thing from that movie, 2001, comes out of nowhere and

Have you ever been hurt here before? Austin asked Jake.

Jake shrugged again. Ive never really experienced real pain here.

Yeah. Austin pondered that. The new immersion technology the game had developed in the past year increased the texture of the experience, the, well, verisimilitude of it. You could feel the wind on your face, for instance, though in a predictable way, as though there were only one setting for wind on face , and the heft of your weapon in your hand was as real as could be. But Austin, like Jake, had definitely not experienced pain before, not here in the world of Morna Doon. He went over to Ken, bent over the little gnomes twisted, bloody body. Thats really you, Ken?

Ken groaned and nodded. Justput me out of my misery

Whats the name of your avatar in Second Life?

The little gnomes eyes were fading, but he forced himself to consciousness and met Austins gaze. Itsits Jim

Wayne snorted. Thats the name Ken goes by in Second Life? Jim?

The point is, its something only Ken would know.

Well you knew it, Craig said.

Because I briefly had a Second Life character. Ken showed me around therewhile I played. If played is the right word.

Id rather watch paint dry, Wayne said.

That is a pretty boring game, Jake agreed.

Its great, Craig said. You can make lots of items in it.

The point is, Austin said, This really is Ken, not some new death graphic.

Kens little gnomes eyes fluttered open. Austin saw the tears in them. Its meAustin, Im begging you Ken choked and a bit of bloody phlegm trickled out of his thin lips into his scraggly beard. Put me out of my misery, man. This is too much.

I wish we had a healer, Jake said. Why wouldnt any of you guys create a healer character?

Wayne grunted. Well why the fI mean, why the heck didnt you?

Austin stared down at the bloody little body. Im not sure a healer would help. Still, though, it would have been good to have one around just to find out. None of the guys wanted to play a healer. He had been trying to talk his live-in girlfriend, Angie, into creating a character and joining him in the world of Morna Doon, but so far she had done little more than roll her eyes and let him know the statistical likelihood of that happening.

The little gnomish body convulsed as the trickle of blood became a sudden splurt, little bits of vomit, or something, internal body bits, it looked like, came out with it. Austin drew his sword, a short, simple thing, suitable for a ranger who did most of his work in thick woodlands. Thats it. Somethings wrong. Im going to finish him off.

That could really hurt your faction rating, Jake said.

Wayne grunted derisively. With who? Gnomes?

Austin held the sword poised over Kens body, ready to bring it down. Cant you just log off? he asked him.

Ivetriedplease

I guess you better do it, Jake said.

We shall lament our fallen comrade, Craig intoned. He tried to stay in character, usually. The roleplaying thing was big with him. Except for when you got him talking about Battlestar Galactica.