Flynt closes the door behind him. I sigh, use the key to lock it, and settle on the foot of the bed, staring down at the coins in my hand.
Two months. That’s the equivalence. This could comfortably last me two months. Weird.
I shrug my bag off my shoulder and take out the coin purse, slipping the new pieces inside. If silver is the base currency, I should probably convert some of those gold pieces. They have to have banks, right?
Wait. Is my coma dream really going to have me standing in line at a bank doing currency exchange?
But this isn’t really a coma dream, is it? Just because it’s logical doesn’t mean it’s the real answer. Which would mean, among other things, that I shot someone with a bow and arrow. Yeah, they almost blew me up in return, but I shot someone with a bow and arrow.
Probably.
Maybe.
No. I’m not giving into that yet.
I need to pee.
I take my bag with me and find an indoor privy (thankfully) at the end of the hall along with a wash basin where I wash my hands under a faucet that glows a vague blue and produces lukewarm running water, which is nice and unexpected. There’s even a tub up here, though no signs of a shower, which is a little gross. Who knows how many people have sat in that tub.
I wish I’d had sanitizing wipes in my bag. If it were closer to the pandemic, it would have been part of the swag: themed wipes, hand sanitizer, and a two-sizes too-big, themed face mask. But things have long moved on from that.
Returning to my room, I think about eating but suddenly just feel exhausted. I re-lock the door, then take off my boots and prop them against the wall. I stuff my bag under the pillow and strip down to my underwear so I’m not sleeping in clothes that I fought cultists in— though it’s still weird there’s not any blood or dirt on them.
Magic.
I fall backward onto the bed.
[Menu].
The small box pops up information in the semi-circle to the right-hand side.
> [Personal Status]
>
> [Squad Status]
>
> [Inventory]
>
> [Equipment]
>
> [Journal]
>
> [Achievements (2)]
>
> [Map (Locked)]
What are these [Achievements]? I noticed a (1) when I looked earlier but didn’t remember getting a notification. Must have happened while I was unconscious.
The [Achievements] window comes up with two round images illuminated. They look like bas reliefs like the type that would be found on coins. One says [Survivor] underneath it and the other corresponds with the one I just unlocked: [Fellowship]. I mentally pull up [Survivor].
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> [SURVIVOR: You survived your first encounter! Good on you. Is this the first of many?]
The image is hard to parse, but it looks like a figure being carried by another. Alright, so that must account for that initial XP. Achievements often come with XP, don’t they? I try to picture a console’s menu and the brass, silver, and gold trophies that correspond to each achievement’s challenge rating. I pull up the next.
> [FELLOWSHIP: Aw, you have people willing to give you a chance. Don’t let them down!]
“Who wrote these things?” I mutter, feeling like the attitude is a bit contrary to the whole serious high fantasy vibe that the rest of the situation emulates. This bas relief shows what appears to be a group of different faces arranged in a circle around the coin, though the details are difficult to make out.
I think the window closed and page through some of the others. They’re all grayed out and locked, though— no clues to be had. I don’t bother to count them, but there’s a lot. I guess I’ll discover what they are as I grind forward.
What happens if I don’t, though? What if I say to hell with this whole adventure thing, get a job tending bar downstairs, and wait out my insanity here? Would the adventure come find me? Would I be destined to just die here? Or would rejecting it cause me to wake up or somehow get booted out of the game environment?
It’s an interesting idea: just sit it out. Reject the call. Simply not adventure.
But I also can’t deny I’m curious. And I can’t deny that I have a bunch of pent-up wanderlust. Before the pandemic, that’s where almost every extra cent went: traveling the world. Hiking the Inca Trail. Snorkeling the Great Barrier Reef. Seeing Middle Earth. The next trip was going to be Mount Kilimanjaro, but then, well, the world stopped. I haven’t traveled since.
I don’t know if this is real or a figment of my imagination, but if I just sit here in a tavern and try to wait it out, that just feels like a waste. What types of things are available to me right now? What can I do? Dream or not, dangerous or not, weird or not, who says no to this sort of thing? Haven’t I spent thousands of dollars to try to mimic this kind of experience on my couch? And now, I’m experiencing it— even if it is just a particularly vivid hallucination.
I have to give it a try. That’s just how it is.
Going back to [Menu], I look at [Personal Status] one more time and find that, indeed, my [XP] has risen from 15/300 to 30/300. Fifteen points for entry level achievements feels okay from a progression standpoint, but I wonder how many goblins or whatever I’ll have to kill to really level up. And what if the system only rewards XP to those who take the creature down? In a five-person party that could slow down the pace for all of us—though the others don’t seem that worried. I wonder how close they are to the next level. Or are they already [Level 2]? [Level 3]? Higher? Judging from Flynt’s reaction they would have no idea.
Beyond that, though— and this is the big one— if I accept this as some kind of reality, can I actually kill something? I’m the one who catches and releases every spider. I’ve cried over vitally necessary mass ant murder. Don’t get me started on the time I couldn’t avoid that squirrel. It still haunts me. Sure, I was able to shoot that one guy, but I wasn’t bought-in at the time (oi, does that mean I’m bought-in now?) and, frankly, I didn’t even expect to hit anyone at the time. Plus, the three damage struck by said arrow must’ve been the equivalent of a papercut to a dude who required veteran adventurers to be taken down. Bedrick Brathwaithe doesn’t strike me as the type to unsheathe his sword for less than a [Level 10] baddie.
I page back and pull up [Squad Status] only to find the message:
> [No Allies in Range]
I sigh. [Journal], meanwhile, doesn’t tell me anything I don’t already know: a to-the-point account of the people I met (the first guy to yell at me was apparently called Timalt, which feels vaguely Shakespearian of him), the brief battle (I hit [Ice Dragon Cultist Priest] for 3 damage; I was then hit by [Chaotic Blast], dealing 14 damage— confirmed to be more than my total) after which I was in something called [Bleed Out] (death-saves, I guess?) before I was healed. The account then notes that I failed [Quest: Fireball!] before chronicling my meeting Grayson Archibald Stormbringer III (of course he has numerals) and Bedrick Brathwaithe. It includes adding five gold pieces to [Inventory], and ends with [Achievement: Fellowship]. Honestly, I’m not sure what use [Journal] will be except maybe for name recall.
I dismiss the [Menu] and lie there staring at the ceiling for a long while until I feel my brain start to drift. I ache all over. In the distance, I hear a bell starting to chime and find myself counting it. I get to seven before I drift off to sleep.
Then, at around what I guess to be two in the morning, I discover exactly what Flynt meant by a runaway wagon and momentarily wish the [Ice Dragon Cultist Priest] had managed to kill me.