Novels2Search

1 - Spawning In

Donny woke up in a haze. He didn’t know why, though; a six-pack and bed at 4am were well within responsible limits for having work in the morning. He expected to feel terrible, but not this terrible. Donny was on floor instead of on the couch, and it was way too bright in his room. He wondered if his roommate let someone from his family in again. Donny supposed it was time for another scolding or intervention. He opened his eyes with a painful effort, finding a figure standing over him in the light.

Figures. Let’s see what they have to say now.

“Ma? What you want now?” he said, voice still laden with sleep.

It surprised him to hear the gruff laughter of a man he didn’t recognize.

“Oh, it's your mother, alright. Time to get you out of them filthy clothes and into a proper bed,” mocked the man.

This was answered by a round of menacing laughter from all around him.

Oh my god. We’re getting robbed or something?

Donny’s eyes flew open to see a man with long, oily hair, and a chipped tooth grin staring down at him. He tried to scoot away, but the man stomped his boot against Donny’s chest, pinning him. Donny’s vision was cleared enough to see the man twirling a long knife in his hand, and that there were at least three or four other men standing over him. But they weren’t in his room. The sun was filtering down through the limbs of trees, the boot was pressing him into cold, hard dirt. A mixture of earthy and woody scents filled his nose. 

Did they take me outside? 

The threatening laughter of the man on top of him redirected his attention away from his surrounding and to the immediate threat of death. Donny gulped.

“Take whatever you want but please don’t kill me,” he whimpered.

The man with the knife leaned in close.

“Oh yea, that’s the idea,” he replied, smiling, “Now, let’s get you naked.”

Naked??

“I think I need an adult for that,” Donny stuttered.

The man stood back up, laughing as he motioned to the other men around.

“Oh don’t you worry, boy. I am an adult!”

At that, the men around were upon him.

“Eeeeeeeeeh! Yooooooooo! Waaaaaait!” Donny began squealing as he squirmed, flailing his hands ineffectively against them, but as his hands came into view he began to feel more confused than panicked. “Wha? Actually wait wait, for real hold up!”

He was wearing thick gloves made of a supple and rich leather. It had handsome looking designs stitched in as well. Donny couldn’t make much of them, as they were already being pulled off his hand, but from the brief glance it looked like knight’s gauntlets.

“No seriously! Like you can totally still have it, but lemme take a look real quick,” he continued to protest, but the man had already put the glove away and started working on taking off other articles of clothing, drawing his attention to what was on his body, making him even more curious and confused, “Oh whoa. What the hell, man.”

The men were taking off what looked like knightly armor, deftly and efficiently unstrapping and pulling off pieces made of metal, thick leather, heavy cloth, and even bits of chainmail. He saw them unstrap and pull of an ornamented leather belt with a sword and scabbard attached. He felt them take off calf high boots.

Donny noticed a gold chain was around his neck once the chest armor was removed, leading down to something heavy under his shirt. The man holding him down noticed as well, and yanked on the chain, pulling a large bronze and gold medallion into view. It was etched with finely detailed designs inlaid with silver and gems. Donny let out a low whistle.

“Wow,” he said, voice hushed in awe, “That looks real expensive.”

He looked at the man, whose hard expression softened into grateful relief. 

“Yea,” he replied, voice also quiet, eyes fixed on the medallion, “I’m hoping it is.” He then smiled a genuine smile and patted Donny on the shoulder in thanks.

The man pulled the chain and medallion off Donny’s next and the stripping continued until all Donny was left with was a white linen undergarment - a sort of medieval estimation of boxer briefs. He was then picked up off the ground by two men and led to a larger wagon full of similarly disrobed people sitting hunched together.

It was more like wooden cage on wheels than a wagon. There was a section in the back were the back opened like a door with two men carrying spears guarding it. One of them pulled open the back, while the other waved his spear at the people inside, keeping them in. Donny was then lifted by his arms and legs by the men on either side of him. They gave two preparatory swings, then sent him flying through the opening, into the wagon, and on top of a portly man with a graying beard.

The impact knocked some wind from him, but he felt more embarrassed than anything else that he was laying on top of a complete stranger while both were wearing practically nothing.

“Bro! I am so sorry!” he said, trying to get off the man under him as quickly as possible.

The bearded man tolerated the situation politely, only smiling and saying “Don’t worry, lad. It happens.”

The door slammed shut behind him. Donny turned to see the man who closed it chuckling at him, a huge grin across his face, waving bye with his fingers as he walked away.

“What an asshole.” Donny said under his breath.

“Right? They have to lord it over us like, oooo we got you and you should feel bad, as if it's not terrible enough already.”

Donny turned to the speaker and saw a young woman with chestnut brown hair seated curled up against the bars just to the right of the door, glaring past the bars out to their captures.

“Totally” Donny agreed, as he finished taking himself off the bearded man, “Freaking bullies. I guess it's whatever though. Nothing we can do about it.” He found a spot against the door and leaned against it, sitting in a similarly curled up position next to the girl.

The girl turned to look at him now, revealing bright emerald green eyes. She wore a firm, cold expression.

“Hm. Another fatalist. So you’ll accept being treated like dogs just because they have more swords then?”

Damn. I just had to get seated next to the activist.

“I mean...yea, pretty much.” 

Besides, I don’t see you doing any better than the rest of us.

“Be nice, Ashelyn,” said the bearded man, “We’re all in the same boat. Or wagon cage. Or whatever this is. What I’m saying is he’s on your side just like we all are. We could stand to try getting along, yea?”

Ashelyn rolled her eyes at first, but then took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly and softening her expression some.

“I’m sorry. It's been a rough week. And I get little prickly when I skip breakfast.”

Donny waved away the comment. “It’s all good. Same when I have to be up early. And your name is Ashelyn? Very cool. I’m Donny.” He offered a hand which she shook politely. He then turned to the bearded man. “Donny. Nice to meet you.”

The bearded man shook his hand in turn.

“I’m Garth. It’s a pleasure, lad.”

“Very cool,” Donny replied. 

He took a moment to observe his surroundings. He was in the wagon cage with around twenty other people. They were a mix of young and old, men and women, all looking dead tired. He looked out of the cage and was finally able to get a good look at his captures. They were a bunch of surly looking men, dressed like they were going to the renn fair - all tunics, swords, and cloaks - but covered in generous layer of grime. A good few of them had more fingers on their hands than teeth in their head, and all had some sort of scar or sign of surviving some grave injury. They were in some sort of caravan, with the wagon behind him stacked with an assortment of crates and sacks, the wagon in front was another cage with more almost naked people inside, and there were a couple more wagons ahead which he couldn’t quite get a clear look at from where he was sitting. Some of the men were on horseback, while the rest took up positions in the wagon train. It looked like they were getting ready to move.

Donny nodded as he took all of that in. He then turned to Ashelyn and Garth.

“So...I sorta just woke up. Could either of you tell me what the fucks going on?”

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Ashelyn and began filling Donny in, though with some confusion about his circumstances on their part. He was obviously clueless about things that Donny could tell were things that should be obvious, but they dutifully oriented him on what was going on, where, and why.

  Their captures were a band of outlaws called the Bloody Knuckles that operated out of the heavily wooded area of the Silvering Forest in the Kingdom of Valoron. They were more than likely crossing eastward through the forest to get to the bordering Kingdom of Dunsdel, where the Bloody Knuckles were treated more like mercenaries than criminals. The two kingdoms had just finished a war, and though on the grand scheme of things turned out a stalemate, Valoron boarder’s were left in a less than defensible position. It would be some time until the Valoron army could reorganize, and in the meantime this left villages and towns close to the border susceptible to raids. Dunsdel swears no aggression as agreed upon by the peace treaty, but a loophole existed that left organizations such as the Bloody Knuckles free to do all the agressing for Dunsdel. After all, the Dunsdel army have no say over what brigands and outlaws do. And what’s the King of Dunsdel to do if Valoron has a crime issue within its own borders?

“And so it is,” said Garth as he continued to explain, “We got the warning too late when our village got attacked. Us and whatever possessions that would fetch a price are likely getting carted off to one of the dukes in Dunsdel now. Their connection to the raids is nigh untraceable.”

Ashelyn scoffed. “Oh its plenty traceable. A child could figure all this out.”

“It's a very complex game of politics. Quite nuanced. A child could not figure this all out,” replied Garth.

Ashelyn rolled her eyes then turned to the front of the cage wagon. “Hey Tom!” she shouted, “What you think is happening to us.”

A small, reedy boy about the age of ten raised his head at being called.

“The Knuckles taking us to work and our things to sell to a duke or another in Dunsdel. They’re what’s paid them to do it since the Dunsdel army isn’t allowed to do it.”

“Thank you, Tom,” she said, then turned back to Garth.

“Okay fine. But it's not like there’s much to do about it. King Valryn wouldn’t risk it. Even if it was to save his citizens, saying a Dunsdel duke was working with bandits would be insult enough to provoke another war. So it’s the way it is.”

“If you’re fine just accepting that,” replied Ashelyn flatly, “But we’re getting home and whoever we’re being taken to will pay for it, I’ll make sure of it.”

Garth shook his head, sighing.

“If there’s a way to lead revolt with one person, be sure to make that happen. The rest of us will live in reality.”

“Then reality needs to change,” she said with finality.

There was a silence between the two that stretched on uncomfortably until they remembered Donny.

“I’m sorry, Donny,” she apologized, “That must be a lot to take in all at once. Did you get all of that?”

Donny kept perfectly silent, taking in every word between the two other captives as his mind tried to handle what it all meant. 

“Uhh...lad?” Garth ventured, “Are you hearing us?”

Donny remained silent.

The two exchanged concerned expressions then leaned in closer to him.

“Donny? Are you alright?” said Ashelyn, her voice gentle for the first time.

Donny blinked a few times before speaking

“This is a questline,” he said, more to himself than anyone else.

Ashelyn and Garth looked at each other again, confused and worried. They both turned back to him.

“Donny? What’s wrong?” asked Garth.

 Donny spoke deliberately and slowly to keep from shouting, but he could feel the heat rising in his face.

“This. Is. A motherfucking. Quest. Line. From Fantasy Craft Online.”

Donny could tell they were trying to keep him from getting upset by the way they began speaking to him like he was a child.

“Okay, Donny. Thank you for telling us that,” said Garth, putting up a chipper attitude, “That’s really good. Very good. Isn’t it Ashelyn?”

“Yes! Yes. You are doing great Donny. Very good,” she chimed in.

“In fact everything is good, lad! Isn’t it? I mean maybe it doesn’t seem like it at the moment, being in this cage and all, but everything is alright! I’m alright. We’re alright. You’re alright. Everything is alright. Isn’t it Ashelyn?”

Ashelyn turned to Garth, palms upturned, giving him a ‘what the hell do you mean?’ look.

“Isn’t it? Ashelyn?” repeated Garth.

“Yes! Why yes it is!” she said, too suddenly, as she looked back at Donny with huge smile. “It’s great! It’s all great. All of this is just….umm….Dunsdel...I hear, is a very nice place. I’ve heard that. All of us has heard that...It’s great!”

“See, lad? So nothing to get too worked up over. Right?”

Donny pursed his lips and took a sharp breath in through his nose. 

I’m about to fucking lose it. 

He kept it together, though, and answered as calm as he could.

“Sure. It’s all good, man. Everything’s cool.”

“Yes! Cool. That’s a very nice way to put it. Cool. I like that,” said Garth, “So as long as everything is cool, why don’t you tell us a little about what you said earlier? You were saying something about a fantasy?”

“Fantasy Craft Online!” Donny yelled, “I’m not having a delusion, bro! Fantasy Craft Online. Its fucking game, man. A game. ALL OF THIS! Everything you were just talking about. Valoron, Dunsdel, this forest, the Bloody Knuckles. It’s all in there. It is a game!”

The two were silent a moment.

“You mean,” Ashelyn ventured, “Like the grand game played between nations?”

“NO!” Donny yelled, as Garth sent Ashelyn a chastising look, “Like the thing children and adults with lots of free time play. And this is a questline that’s in it. You spawn close to Greensden, and there’s this quest giver NPC. And you gotta fight bandits through this forest. And you end up in the Gowan City where the duke tells you ‘hey there’s this dungeon nearby and we need help clearing it’. And by then you’re like level fifteen. And...god! I was max level sword master. And...oh no. No no no.”

Donny slumped against the bars of the cage wagon and covered his face with his hands.

“Donny?” asked Ashelyn. She put a hand on his shoulder. Her voice still sounded concerned, but there was urgency in it as well. “Please. Try to relax. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“My stuff. They took my stuff!”

“Its okay, its okay,” Ashelyn continued, “They took all my things as well. But listen to me. We are still going to get through this.”

“No!” Donny lamented. He removed his hands from his face and smacked them against his knees in frustration. “You don’t get it. If this is all like it is in the game? You have no idea. Like that medallion. I knew it looked familiar. It was a Tarson Amulet of Wind. It’s a high level enchanted item that converts a percent of one stat into a bonus for other stats. With my agility? I had like a plus twenty to my strength and accuracy! Jesus Christ. It’s worth at least like ten thousand gold.”

“Excuse me.”

The three of them turned to see that one of the bandits was walking close to the bars and speaking to them.

“I’m not really the sort of person that eavesdrops,” the bandit continued, “So I didn’t quite get all of that. If you don’t mind, and if you’ll excuse me for listening in, could verify that you said ten thousand gold for the medallion?”

Donny threw his hands up and slumped his shoulders.

“Yea. I mean I don’t really do the auction house anymore. I saw weeks ago that it floated around 12k, but you won’t ever see any Tarson Amulet dip below ten thousand though.”

The bandit smiled and nodded, turned to another bandit nearby, then grabbed him by the shoulder, shaking him excitedly.

“You hear that, mate?” his voice high and rising as he spoke to his companion, “Ten, bleeding, THOUSAND gold???”

“What are you on about?” replied his companion.

“That medallion from that idiot knight we found sleeping in the middle of the road! The one what’s Boggs took from him. He said it's worth TEN THOUSAND GOLD!”

This time his eyes grew wide. He went from stunned silence to joyful giggling. The two shared a hug, then grabbed the next nearest bandits they were walking with, who were now staring at them curiously.

Word began to spread along the caravan. Whispers and shouts echoed up and down the line.

“Ten thousand?”

“Did he say ten thousand?

“TEN THOUSAND!!”

“Ten and your mum’s a whore thousand gold, brother!”

“He said ten thousand!?”

The bandits erupted in a chorus of cheers, hoots, and applause. Men were openly weeping. The atmosphere was electric with joyful energy, and made Donny sink further into depression. He buried his face into his knees.

I’ll wake up in just a second. Just a bit and it’ll all be a fuzzy memory.

“You really had something that valuable on you, lad?”

Donny looked up to see Garth staring at him intently. He looked over at Ashelyn and saw her wearing a similar expression.

“Ugh,” he replied, disgusted, “If only that were it. They took everything else off me faster than I could get a good look at them, but if I was wearing what I remember being equipped when I last logged off? The Tarson Amulet wouldn’t even be the most valuable.”

“And what would be the most valuable?”

The three turned to look at the eavesdropping bandit from before.

“And do you  think we could have that list itemized?” he asked further.

“Are you freaking kidding me, right now?” Donny spat back. “Give it a rest. I’m not talking to you right now.”

The bandit’s face quickly soured.

“I don’t quite like the tone you’re taking with me, prisoner,” the bandit threatened.

“C’mon dude!” yelled Donny, “You’re all already rich. Meanwhile I’m in here with a bunch of other half naked strangers with all of my shit about to be sold off. I think you robin hood mother fuckers can find it somewhere in your cold, dark as fuck, hearts to give me a little space. Right?”

The bandit squinted at Donny but backed off.

“Fair point,” he conceded.

With that, the bandit left Donny to return to his comrade, where they exchanged happy slugs to each other shoulders while whispering ‘Ten Thousand’ excitedly to one another.

Donny made himself busy banging the back of his head against the wooden bars of the cage. All the while he heard Garth and Ashelyn talking amongst themselves.

“Did you mention Greensden?”

“I mentioned our village but didn’t say the name. You say anything about Gowan?”

“Likely might be where we’re heading…”

“Yes, but I never made mention about it though.”

“No. Me either.”

“Hmmmm…”

“Hey, lad,” said Garth.

Donny opened his eyes to stare at Garth.

“What?”

“Well, it just occurred to me that this whole time it’s just been Ash and myself doing all the talking. Terribly rude of us. Maybe you’d like to tell us a little bit about yourself?”

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