Massively Multiplayer by P. Aaron Potter Page B

there’s a town right down there?”
    Gil’s smile was strained. “Yes, Lady Jenna, as I have explained, it is important that you learn some of the geography of the region, and that you see what our land has to offer.” The words had the sound of a formula he had repeated many times. “Druin, this is Lady Jenna-“
    “Ms. Jenna,” the scarecrow interrupted.
    “-Hearst.” Gil finished lamely. “ Lady Jenna is new to our-fair-land and is eager to view-”
    “I’m a damned conscript,” Ms. Jenna Hearst insisted, sticking out her hand to shake Druin’s. “My boss said I was going mental and the company psych. prescribed no less than two hours a day, for four weeks, in this program. Well, a bunch of programs, but all the rest of them looked like the kind of shows they give the post-trauma patients to calm them down. At least this one said I could do something in here. Don’t call me Lady.” This last she spat over her shoulder at Gil, who seemed weakly thankful to be moving on in his introductions.
    He gestured to the man on the right, a short, dark fellow in gray leather, carrying a crossbow as though he knew how it worked. “This is Killian.”
    Killian nodded politely, but silently. Druin guessed he was a regular gamer on other networks who had signed on to try Crucible after hearing the news of the update. If the entire netvironment were made over as convincingly as he’d seen this morning, there were going to be a lot of such converts showing up on familiar servers.
    Gil was already moving on to the next man, who sported a thick moustache under a gray hood. “Rud the, uh, Magnificent.”
    “ Almost Magnificent,” Rud corrected, with a gleam in his eye. He too stuck out his hand. “Pleased to meet you. I’m actually an old hack at this, from back around version two-point-one. I saw the press releases about the new update and thought I’d give it a try again.”
    Druin couldn’t resist the question. “ Almost Magnificent?”
    Rud nodded. “I was Magnificent when I used to play, years ago. But since I’m starting over, I had to log in under a new name, and I’m at the bottom of the heap again.” He gestured towards his own gray cloak, and the others’ similarly drab clothing. “I see they still make the newbies wear dirt. You always used to be able to tell how high up someone was by their clothes.”
    Druin nodded. “That’s still the same. The higher the circle, the more flash the armor. But a lot of the system has changed. They totally revamped the combat for three-point-oh, and there’s a new content-manager for version four we’re just seeing today…”
    “Yes, I noticed. Nice trees. Nice wall.”
    “Ahem!” Gil coughed loudly, trying hard to glare at Druin while smiling politely at the other players. “If we might return to the preparations for the quest? Time grows short.”
    Oh yeah, Druin thought, they are definitely paying him. Gil the shill, playing icy. Wisefellow would love this.
    “Last, but not least,” Gil went on, indicating the teen, “Sir Malcolm. I am sure you shall get along particularly well, Druin.” For the first time, his eyes held sincere pleasure. The sight sent a chill up Druin’s spine.
    “Sir…?”
    “Malcolm!” A hand was stuck out. Tentatively, Druin shook it.
    “Sir” Malcolm was taller than he had appeared from a distance, and Druin mentally revised his estimate to twenty or so -- near his own age, certainly. But Druin suspected that his own eyes had never held the righteous zeal that glittered beneath Sir Malcom’s shaggy bangs.
    He pumped Druin’s arm with ferocious enthusiasm. He wore the same dull clothing of all new players, in his case a mild tan, but somewhere he had found the resources for a simple steel breastplate, which gave him the look of a gangly-legged beetle. There was a long sword strapped on his hip, a fifth limb which added to the illusion.
    “Hi,” Druin said, recovering his hand. “Uh...you’re a newb. Where did you