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I wasn’t about to pay seventy bucks, even for an AAA game, especially one that’d been out for three years and still never went on sale. The developers I could respect, sure, but the publishers were total A-holes, squashing mods wherever they found them. They actually sent out C&Ds to modders, and not the ones who were doing shit like adding a naked ScarJo to the game. If you wanted a mod that turned your horse into a speeder bike or a Harley-Davidson, you were shit out of luck.

So, when a friend of mine from work offered me a cracked copy for twenty bucks, with several illicit mods included, of course I told him to chip it into my deck now-now-now. I made a mental note to see if the devs had any Gofundmes I could pump cash to, then settled back to enjoy my haptics.

First, I had to roll up a character. I instantly felt good about my choice not to shell out seventy bucks. As I’d heard rumored, the only available race was Pluplurite, the setting’s black guys—literally everyone else was behind a paywall. Goddamn Sweet Baby Inc. Well, fuck it, I decided. I made my character a barbarian named Ebon. A big, black, bald guy. I’m not usually one to cosplay as a Nubian, but hey, if it worked for Vin Diesel…

That done, I rolled up my first level stats. I went for a strength build.

STR: 17

DEX: 13

CON: 17

INT: 10

WIS: 12

CHA: 8

I wasn’t in the mood to wait around, doing social shit so I could have some NPCs do all the work for me. I wanted to break some shit. I chose the Berserker class feature with an Avatar background modifier—it meant Ebon would be possessed by a random god of his pantheon when he went into a frenzy, giving him a different magical buff each time. What can I say, I like to gamble. I thought about what feat I would go for, but that was second-level stuff.

For weapons, I went with three throwing axes and one broadsword. Instead of armor, I picked out a Belt of Evasion and Bracers of Blessing, which did essentially the same thing—raising my AC by making me harder to hit. Plus, what kind of barbarian wears armor?

It goes without saying that I would have the usual adventuring gear in my pack. Crowbar, hammer, piton, rations, fifty feet of rope, flint and tinder, torch, canteen, whetstone. The game threw in a copy of Confronting Racial Injustice: A Treatise by Ogon Littlelove, which… fine. I might need something to wipe with. These new holo-games could get pretty realistic, now that they’d started calling themselves AAAA.

Okay, enough bullshit. I logged the fuck on.

***

Six foot seven and north of two hundred and fifty pounds, Ebon walked through the filth-encrusted streets of Wyylos, a towering obsidian statue of muscle, bone, and scar tissue. A cloak and loincloth were his only protection from the elements, though he had more call to resort to the axes dangling from his belt and the sword sheathed down his back. Everywhere, beggars and cutthroats lurked, looking for a sympathetic ear or easy prey—Ebon pointedly offered neither.

“You will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy,” Ebon opined to himself. Everywhere he turned there were thieves, wenches, beggars, sellswords, and the odd priest. He wondered how the city even functioned with a population that was all lowlives like these; who even paid their taxes? But best to think of other things before he turned out like George R.R. Martin.

Although he’d had a sandwich and a glass of Coke before sitting down for an evening of gaming, Ebon still felt his stomach rumble and a dryness in his throat. Damn, but these devs were good. He made a mental note to see if any of them needed help paying for their sick dog’s operation—but for real this time.

Okay, clearly the game doesn’t expect me to go all the way to the boss level feeling like I’ve skipped breakfast. This must be their way of telling me to go into a tavern. Imagine, a Western game developer getting you to do something without a mission objective, a minimap, and five loading screen tips.

He looked around at his options and it immediately became clear that the mods had loaded. One of the taverns looked like a Swiss chalet. Through the open windows, he could see buxom blondes dressed for Oktoberfest, carrying around tankards of ale and steaming hot platters of roast beef sandwiches.

Another tavern was a multitiered Japanese minka house, with tatami floors, sliding paper doors, and wooden verandas running the entire length of the place. Koto music fluttered out of the otherwise quiet establishment and he could see pale-painted geishas wandering about, bearing trays of sake and other Nipponese delicacies.

Finally, there was what looked like a modern Starbucks, only the logo wasn’t of a mermaid, but a similarly painted girl with cat ears instead of a crown and a cat tail flicking at one side of her instead of those two fish-tails. The workers inside wore green aprons over simple tunics and trousers, but they all had a light coating of fur along with cat ears and swishing tails.

Clearly I was going to have to pick one to start my quest in… but which one?

1. Oktoberfest

2. Geisha girls

3. Catgirl cafe

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