-[ You have respawned into the world of Atone Online. ]-

-[ Warning: This is a moderately dangerous zone. Statistically, this area presents a 73% probability of being assaulted by another player and a 12% probability of being attacked by an enemy monster. Caution is advised. ]-

I tried to fight back the flurry of status messages that hammered my brain, clutching my hands tightly over my ears. But they just kept on coming.

-[ Diagnostic alert: You are suffering from the effects of a corrupted memory file. Attempted memory rebuild is at 4%. ]-

-[ Warning: Your mana supply is empty. Mana is required to initiate special actions. ]-

After what felt like an eternity, the flurry of status messages finally fell silent. I guessed that they must have been building up while I was being ‘transferred’. My body ached, and that didn’t bode particularly well for the future. One thing was for certain: my sense of touch had been well and truly activated, and the pain settings were worryingly realistic. I could still feel the shadow stallion’s razor-like teeth grinding my avatar apart, and my panicked heart felt like it was about to burst out of my chest.

-[ Warning: Simulated death may cause mental trauma. ]-

No shit.

As the brain fog began to clear, and my vision feed finally began to sync to my avatar, I realized that I was sat in front of a flickering bonfire, yet I was still very much indoors. The floor was paved with granite blocks, and my ankle was chained in place by a length of rusty iron. On the matching stone walls, primitive torches flickered, casting a warm glow into corners untouched by the central pyro.

“Welcome to the dungeon” announced a gravelly voice from somewhere behind me, signaling that my audio feed had returned. “Yeh took yer bloody time.”

“Another dungeon” I gasped?” suddenly grasping the true nature of my digital damnation. “What the hell?”

“You’re a prisoner mate,” piped up another voice, this one coming from the stranger to my left. I watched him rise to his feet and stretch, cracking a bone in his neck as if wearing flesh, not code. I had to give credit to whoever was responsible for our digital bodies: the attention to detail was incredible.

The stranger wore the visage of what I assumed had to be a human rogue, clad in light leather armor, his frame skinny and his features angled. The possible-rogue prodded at his artificial body a few times as if trying to decipher whether or not it was real. Newsflash, it wasn’t.

“We’re all fucking prisoners,” he eventually declared, as he continued to poke and prod his new avatar. “Where did you expect to spawn, exactly? Disneyworld?”

“To be honest, I’m not sure where I thought I’d appear,” I admitted, giving thanks that wherever I was, it was a lot less chaotic than my last spawning point. In a strange way, the fire was almost soothing. And after what I’d just been through, that was a small blessing. My heart began to calm.

I supposed that it all made sense, in a way. I’d been taught a hard lesson right from the start: Atone Online was going to be no picnic. This was my prison within a prison; somewhere I would have to earn my right to walk free from. And even if that first taste of freedom was just a larger cell with an artificial digital sky above it, I’d get there, and keep pushing on. After all, what other choice did I have? The physical world had deserted me. My body was ash. And my soul was a discarded scrap of abandonware, left to fend for itself in a fucking dungeon. Yup, I’d really hit the bottom. All I could do was ascend.

That was when my conversation with the skinny demon came flooding back to me.

Holy crap, I died while only at level 1. Have I leveled-locked at zero already?

I urgently pulled up my status panel to check.

USERNAME: SHADE

PRIMARY SKILL: SWORDSMAN – LEVEL 1

XP REMAINING UNTIL NEXT LEVEL IS UNLOCKED – 13

SECONDARY SKILL: THIEF – LEVEL 0 (RESPAWN PENALTY -1)

XP REMAINING UNTIL NEXT LEVEL IS UNLOCKED – 100

Rep: 0/30

HP: 80/80

Mana: 0/40

Alliances: None

I breathed a sigh of relief. I’d lost a level from my secondary skill, but my primary skill was still active, saving me from reverting to the dreaded ‘worker’ status. When I first gained the dubious new ability, I’d assumed it was yet another albatross around my neck. But it had turned out to be a blessing. Then I remembered what else the demon had told me: respawning costs one level and one base point. I hurriedly flicked to my stats menu, keen to see what I’d lost. There was no point checking my ‘intangible’ stats, they had nothing to lose to begin with. So with that in mind, I focused purely on the physical.

PHYSICAL STATS -

Strength: 3 (Cap 4)

Agility: 1 (Cap 5)

Speed: 3 (Cap 4)

Stamina: 2 (RESPAWN PENALTY -1) (Cap 4)

Resilience: 3 (Cap 3)

Accuracy: 1 (Cap 4)

Defence: 1 (Cap 5)

Armed combat: 3 (Cap 5)

Unarmed combat: 0 (Cap 3)

Carrying capacity: 1 (Cap 2)

Stamina, eh? Oh well, I suppose it could have been worse.

Curious about my new surroundings I turned to survey the area behind me, and in doing so, I almost jumped out of my avatar. Why? Because when I branded this place my digital hell, I hadn’t quite meant it so literally.

The demon was huge, heavily armored, and possessed a body mass that was easily double that of my own. He wore plates of black almost organic-looking metal across his thick torso and was coated in a layer of pitch-black leathery skin that made it almost impossible to tell where armor ended, and where the demon began. His thick neck supported the head of a bull, albeit one that brandished four curved horns resembling those of a ram, and its eyes, of which it had six in total, glowed like luminous, yellow bile. As if that wasn’t enough to give me nightmares, the beast carried a spear formed from the same black, organic-looking metal that covered its body. It was almost pitchfork-like in appearance, splitting into three elongated prongs, each tipped with shards of glowing luminous metal. Oh, and most importantly, this demon had no barrier to keep it the hell away from me.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

I stumbled backward in fright, the bonfire almost singeing me as I scrambled to retreat. I was literally caught between a demon and a fiery inferno. Did the sadists who designed this hellhole have to be so fucking literal?

“Relax, noob. I ain’t here to hurt you,” the creature growled. “I fuckin’ wish I was, mind. At least that would give me somethin’ to do.”

Now that the initial shock was fading (hey, I’ve just been eaten by a damn dungeon-monster, I have every right to be jumpy, okay?), I had to admit that the demon did look oddly passive. In contrast to its imposing visage, it was slumped against the prison wall, and looking incredibly bored.

“If you aren’t here to hurt us, what are you doing,” I asked, partly dreading the answer.

“Guardin’ the damn spawnin’ point, what does it look like?” he spat. “Someone has to make sure the fresh meat isn’t tampered with before it goes inta storage.”

Fresh meat? The demon’s choice of words was more than a little concerning. Especially coming from a mouth that possessed so many rows of jagged teeth. But he did seem genuinely disinterested in us (for the moment, at least). Relieved, I turned to my fellow new arrivals.

The rogue looked equally reassured by the creature’s apathy toward us, and was testing the limits of his chain (not coincidently in the opposite direction of the demon). It was long enough to wander freely around the room, but not long enough to escape it. Good to know.

Next, I cast my gaze to the prisoner on my right. He was a dwarf and looked oddly relaxed, given the circumstances. One thing that immediately struck me was that this new spawn was no warrior. Dressed in little more than the rags of a peasant, he bore little of the muscle that I had expected of the allegedly stronger race. He gave me a wink, and (now realizing that I was staring) I awkwardly looked away. The final, most imposing prisoner sat opposite me. The large fire was obstructing much of my view, but his hulking frame was impossible to miss. It was coated in an abundance of thick, crimson fur. This, I had to assume, was a beastling. He looked lost and confused, possibly because his senses were still syncing to his new artificial body.

I noticed that all three had the same grey ‘I’ symbol hovering next to their left arm, but I was the only one who possessed the faint crest of the raid party. I was about to touch it when one of the prisoners distracted me.

“What you grinnin’ about short stuff?” spat the beastling, mirroring my own confusion over the dwarf’s cheery demeanor, albeit in a much less private way. The prisoner spoke with some difficulty, being unaccustomed to the two large tusks that protruded from his not inconsiderable underbite.

The dwarf just continued to smile, staring into the dancing flame. Not one to be ignored, the beastling rose to his feet and strode over to address the dwarf, dragging his chain behind him. Now I could better comprehend the ‘underworld class’ prisoner’s monstrous frame. It easily dwarfed my own human avatar, and was indeed covered from head to literal toe in a thick matted crimson pelt. He repeated his question, this time demanding to know what was so ‘damn amusing.’

“You’ll find out”, replied the dwarf, smugly. His bravery in the face of the man-beast was to be commended. Not his common sense, mind. I was no expert when it came to prison survival tactics, but not pissing off the big hairy fucker seemed like a fairly obvious strategy.

“Any minute now,” added the dwarf, finally looking up to face his aggressor.

The beast turned to me, then to the rogue, his face a picture of confusion. “Can you believe this guy?” he finally asked. The rogue simply shrugged in return.

“Ah, there we go,” the dwarf announced, rising to his feet. Admittedly, he didn’t gain much more elevation than he had when he was sitting down. “Okay boys, everyone listen up.

“There what goes,” I asked, slowly making my way to my own feet. I’d just been through the trauma of being eaten by Black Beauty’s evil twin, and had little patience for the dwarfs riddles.

“I have just received a payment of five hundred gold into my commissary,” bragged the dwarf, “a gift from my beloved. Upon my sentencing, she dutifully converted our life savings into the local currency and sent it to me in my hour of need. All to ensure my safety, God bless her. I am prepared to share this with any one of you fine individuals, if you would be prepared to be my bodyguard, while I become accustomed to my temporary confinement in this lowly establishment.”

Three panels immediately opened up, one in front of each of our avatars. I recognized its nature right away…

-[ Quest received from user: Samusk. Would you like to view details? ]-

Hmmmm. Because the last one went so well, didn’t it?

Slightly bewildered, I clicked yes.

NEW QUEST – Protect the dwarf.

You have been offered a quest by Samusk the dwarf. This prisoner is in need of a bodyguard and is prepared to pay for your services.

Goal: Do not allow any harm to befall Samusk the dwarf.

Type of quest – Ongoing.

Reward: 125 gold (weekly)

Rep effect – Unknown.

Accept Y/N?

The beastling laughed, turning to the rogue. A private message was quickly exchanged between the two. The rogue gave the beastling a nod, along with a devilish smile.

Crap, those two are up to something.

I cast my gaze downward, following my loose-fitting black trousers down to the metal shackle on my ankle. The chain it was attached to appeared to be of a similar length to that of the rogue, so I knew it was enough for me to get up and walk around the room, but not alas, to escape it. The important thing was, it was enough to reach the dwarf, if I had to.

“I have skills in both thievery and assassination,” announced the rogue, hitting the ‘decline’ button on the holographic screen. “Whereas you, my short-arsed friend, appear to be lacking in any form of combat trait whatsoever. You don’t even have any bloody weapons in your inventory. So the way I see it, I can pluck whatever I wish from your coin purse, and you can’t do a damned thing to stop me.”

“I see,” said the dwarf, still looking oddly calm despite the development. He turned to the beastling. “And what about you, my fine furry friend? Would you like to take me up on my generous offer of employment?”

The beastling smirked. “It’s a good offer he replied, scratching his matted hide as he spoke. “But to tell you the truth, I like his plan better. It seems more… efficient.”

Yep, I could see how this was going. Wordlessly, I moved to put myself between the beastling and the dwarf.

“You got something’ to add, pretty-boy?” grunted the larger player, pressing a powerful hand against my chest. It had claws. Big tear-your-guts-out-as-quick-as-look-at-you claws. But I’d dealt with worse mere minutes beforehand. With that in mind, I held my nerve.

“What the hell are you playing at?” I spat, swatting his hand away. “We’re here to atone, remember? The clue is in the fucking name. Do you seriously think robbing the first dwarf you meet is gonna help you rep up and get out of this dump?”

“Ha! How naive are you, swordsnoob?”

Swordsnoob?

“They didn’t put us here to redeem ourselves, you dumb asshole,” continued the beastling, saliva hitting my face as he spoke. “They put us here to die. Hell, we’re all as good as dead, in so far as the real world is concerned. The sooner you accept that, pretty-boy, the sooner you’ll learn how to survive in this place. Now walk away, before I’m forced to remove yer ability to do so.”

I turned to the demon for backup. “You’re supposed to be the guard, yeah? Tell me, are you going to stand for this?”

“I’m not going to stand at all, if I can avoid it,” replied the lazy creature, scratching behind his horns as he spoke. “My job is to guard the spawnin’ point. No one said anythin’ about protectin’ you from each other. Try to relax, a pack of NPC puppets will be along to take yeh to yer larder soon, so try not to die beforehand. The more times yeh respawn, the tougher yer meat gets.”

Meat? Larder? What the hell? Are these things guarding us, or farming us? I wondered. I guess that’s what I get for turning to a demon for help. Oh well, priorities.

Without further hesitation, I called up my inventory. The ‘items’ screen was split into various directories and subdirectories, and most of the sections were empty. But the weapons tab was the most predominantly placed of all. I opened that window and selected my sword.

-[ Item selected: Premium Sword (shattered). The highest caliber sword available to new arrivals, this weapon has been badly damaged during combat. Attack +2. Durability 12/40. ]-

Dammit, I’d forgotten all about the damage to my weapon. Its ornate handle was still intact, but it led to a shattered blade that was little more than a third of its original length. Oh well, it was still a hell of a lot better than my dagger. I took up a defensive stance. On my blindside, the rogue whistled.

“Nice piece, friend. Well, once upon a time, at least. A premium sword’s not exactly a standard issue item. Siriso must have taken a real shine to you, eh? What did you do? Offer to suck his code?”

“In case it isn’t obvious, I’m taking the bodyguard job,” I announced, ignoring the insinuation and selecting ‘accept’ on the dwarf’s request.

-[ You have accepted a quest. Protect the dwarf. ]-

-[ Rep bonus. You have put yourself in danger of immediate physical harm to defend a weaker individual. This is a commendable act. Rep +1. ]-

Nice one.

“If anybody wants to rob this dwarf, they’re going to have to go through me, first” I proudly declared.

-[ You have initiated a quest ]-

…announced my status system.

What the fuck?

ISSUED QUEST – Rob the dwarf.

You have issued a challenge to the room.

Goal: Defeat the swordsman to take the dwarf’s gold.

Type of quest – One off.

Reward: 500 gold

Rep effect – Minus one. Stealing is frowned upon in the world of Atone Online, and is not harmonious to rehabilitation.

Bugger. I really need to figure out the controls before I open my fucking mouth again…

-[ Your quest has been accepted by Garak (Rogue, level 1). ]-

-[ Your quest has been accepted by M’stofus (Beastling, level 1). ]-

Of course it has. Because fucking shitting bollocks.