Helmsley's Titanic Lichslayer

A short story.

(Image Source: Pixabay)

The player watched as Helmsley's Titanic Lichslayer — the sword with plus-eleven agility and plus-twenty strength and a critical hit chance boost of nine percent, the sword with an infinitesimal drop rate, the sword he'd lusted for since Age of Tyranny left beta — was awarded to someone else in the raid.

Congratulations popped like champagne bottles in the voice chat. The player said nothing and instead opened his character inventory and stared at his equipped weapon: the Lava-Cast Claymore. Plus-seven to strength and a chance on hit to cause up to 500 fire damage. It was an excellent sword. But it wasn't Helmsley's Titanic Lichslayer.

goddamnit, the player typed in a direct message to Baconpriest, one of the raid healers who he frequently messaged to gossip and talk shop.

Sorry bud, Baconpriest wrote back. The player liked Baconpriest. Outgoing, welcoming to new guild members, always good for a wry joke during tough moments in the raid. It was Baconpriest who'd first recruited the player to the guild. Two hours before Helmsley's Titanic Lichslayer dropped, Baconpriest announced in raid chat that they were quitting Age of Tyranny to move in with their parents, to help around the house, to help navigate some unexplained medical difficulties. There wouldn't be time to game, they'd said.

Fuckin loot council. You know Jeck's girlfriend pushed for him to get it, the player wrote. His body felt tight as if strung up on metal strings and left to hang, and he glared at the blue-haired elf standing near the front of the raid group. And although the player had no basis for knowing how Nelicaria looked in real life, he imagined her to be squat and sweaty, jealous of the better players, emblematic of all the hateful things the player now perceived.

It's just loot dude. Lol we raid here every week.

still seems like its like loot council hands the best shit to their friends

You got that sick ring last week.

yeah

The raid group began to move. The player's fingers glided across the keyboard and his warrior charged into the side of an armored dragonkin, the screen splashed with bold red numbers as he landed one critical hit after another.

it sucks shit tho bc i told flameless last week that sword would be a big upgrade for me, the player typed.

Yeah. It's not really a tank weapon, but the guy has been here since day one. That stuff matters, Baconpriest wrote back.

maybe

The player paused to reach for his half-full can of energy drink but then stopped and began to type again.

gonna miss you raids wont be the same without you

I'll miss you as well! Baconpriest wrote. Shitty situation but that's life for you lol.

will you come back?

Tough to say. Might be nice to get a break from the game. Four nights a week raiding is intense.

yeah

Do me a favor though. Have fun while I'm gone and go outside one in a while lol.

*Once, Baconpriest added.

Then the player's gaming rig — the high-def screen, the water-cooled tower with the shifting blue and green lights, the special keyboard with glowing red keys designed to accommodate his smaller-than-average hand size — went quiet and dark.

"Fuck!" the player shouted. His voice sounded like a dying frog and he felt a twinge of pain from the lingering symptoms of strep throat. He stood up, then sat down again. The player lifted the keyboard and a blood-flood of rage demanded that he throw it, but he stopped himself and set it back down. The stagnant warm air in the room swamped him.

The player stood and walked to the window and watched a blizzard blanket the Brooklyn street outside. Thick flakes slashed through the blades of light beneath the street lamps. Every window was dark. The player remembered his childhood in Vermont, the cold sting of snow on his face, walking across an endless white to the sledding hill. Guilt about a canceled trip north for Christmas panged him now, but he felt calmer, and the hornet buzz in his hands receded. Baconpriest and Nelicaria and Helmsley's Titanic Lichslayer seemed so distant, so unreal.

The player gripped the top rail of the window and it whined as he pushed it open. A rush of frigid air beat back the hotness in the room, breaking its silence apart, and enveloped him.