There! That is what I said I would do for today. And I did it! I hope you like it.

Chapter 2.2: Foot... meet Scarecrow

Today was the day! Foot was finally going to be able to leave the Fort. After four weeks of running, actually running, around Fort Feranisbur he knew almost everyone by name.

He knew where all the shops were, where all the guilds were, where the rich lived, where the poor barely survived, he knew it all. He even knew most of the users who had started around the same time as he had. Being stuck in a city for four weeks does that. Forced to remain in the vicinity of each other – acquaintance were made. Especially if you were Foot.

Foot had run everywhere. Initially, this had depleted his stamina very quickly, but the more he ran the longer he could run. He had gained a new stat, Endurance because of it. It greatly affected his stamina and it had gone up considerably. Agility had also gone up, making him able to run even faster. He was already faster than any of the people who had tried to run against him. Some of the other users had even made a game of it. However much they tried, they couldn't catch him in a fair race.

Foot attributed it to his legs. His legs didn't work – so he didn't have the subconscious limitations put on the avatar’s body that others did. If he actually had been able to walk, he might have also experienced those limitations. But since he didn't actually have legs that worked, his virtual legs had the power he wanted them to have – and he was fast.

He tried willing his legs to move even faster to see if he could will them to move at a higher speed. Unfortunately that didn't work though. A foundation had been set at some point in the last couple of weeks. So he now had to rely on the acquisition of agility stat points – like every other user – to increase his speed.

He was momentarily quite grieved by this. He had imagined himself running faster than horses and racing the wind… Alas, it was not to be… yet.

‘Who knows, if I get enough stat points it could work…’

At first the city’s inhabitants thought him quite strange, until on his third day at the Fort Hog had said, “Son, why don't ye use all that running ye do for something useful. Don't seem to me like yer doin’ much other than what a dog does when it chasin’ its tail. Ye ain’t no dog. So take this message I’m givin’ ye here and take it to my wife. She runs the bakery on Mila’s Street. That’s right my wife’s bread is so good, she up and got a street named after her. I’m a lucky son of a gun, aren’t I?”

Hog had handed over the message with a chuckle and had then added, “My Mila’s a good woman. She’ll give you some grub for yer troubles. Get some meat on them bones of yers. Sad thing they call a body now’adays. Ain’t the path to becoming a man I tell ye. No it ain’t.”

Hog had sighed heavenward.

When he had looked back down at Foot again he had blinked and said, “Git! Git! What you still doin ere? Run around all day like some mongrel and when he finally get to do some work proper…” Hog had continued as he had watched Foot run around a bend.

Word had spread quickly and soon, Foot had been delivering this message or that item or that parcel. He would run from sunup to sundown and then from sundown to sunup. He ran through, literally ran through, food quickly but that wasn't a problem. He had so many people asking him to make deliveries; he was even able to save some money – which suited him just fine.

He was going to become the Emperor of Versailles. He had read the manual carefully. He knew about the money he could make if he succeeded. The money he needed to walk again – for real.

He loved Royal Road, he didn't even mind the promotion videos that were made from footage of his game time. What he did mind though was the moment he logged off. Every time he would get a little shock, and then realization hit. He knew he couldn't walk, and yet in Royal Road he could. So every time he came back to real life, it hurt to see his legs.

Legs that wouldn't move no matter how much he willed them to. He used them as fuel for determination. He was going to be Emperor. And he was going to walk again – for real.

And today, today was the first step. He ran up to the gate that Hog usually guarded. Unfortunately Hog wasn't there to witness his momentous event.

‘His loss.’ Foot ran out of the Fort.

The road was still cobbled for a couple hundred feet, but then quickly gave way to a haggard dirt road.

‘Well calling this a road is a stretch…’ Foot jumped over puddles the size of bathtubs and ran on, barely missing a step.

Sometimes he slipped and almost fell a couple of times, but he persevered. After a particularly exemplary display of dexterity at the mercy of giant-puddles a window popped up.

New Stat: Flexibility

Flexibility: Reduces the loss of vitality and stamina. Stat points distribution is possible and depending on the character’s actions, it can be increased by itself.

He was now at a level five due to his constant running of quests. He had assigned most of his stats to agility and stamina. All he cared about was running faster.

He had already been running for two hours and yet the forest in the distance did not seem any closer. He had initially planned on running there and back but now considered turning around and heading back. Perhaps he would be able to find a quest to hunt rabbits, he had already spotted a few.

He was about to turn back around when he encountered a fox. He had heard other users in the square talking about quests involving fox pelts. He figured it would be a good idea to gain experience from defeating a fox. One of the users in the square had boldly claimed that he had single-handedly beaten a fox at a level three.

Ignorantly using that knowledge as a basis, Foot attacked the fox.

‘Surely if I am at a level five I can handle something a level three did.’

He had a small dagger in his inventory. He had received it on one of his quests. He now gripped it in his right hand and ferociously lunged for the fox’s throat. The lunge itself was beautiful. Hours of running supplied him with an extensive knowledge of lunges… everything else was a disaster.

His grip on the dagger was too tight. He didn't account for the foxes movements. He didn't account for the pain as the fox fought back. With the tight grip on the dagger, his arm lost the flexibility to move out of the way as the fox bit down on his right arm. He saw it coming, he told his body to move – but he had set himself up for failure with that initial lunge.

Pain seared up his right arm and he instinctively dropped the dagger. He tried shaking the fox off, but it vehemently clung to his arm as its jaws dug deeper and deeper. As it was now firmly attached to his body, he saw no other alternative than punching with his left hand. It wouldn't loosen its hold and his health was sinking fast.

Running out of alternatives, Foot gripped the fox’s body as tight as he could and drove his knee into the side of its face. Momentarily stunned, its jaws loosened and Foot was able to escape.

He turned around and oriented himself towards Fort Feranisburg. He ran as fast as he could and didn't look back.

His first day out and he was already running back. How pathetic. This way he was never going to become Emperor. He had to become stronger... fast.

'First thing I do when I get back is learn how to use a sword.'

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Halfway back he was still running on fear-injected speed, when he heard someone beside him. He hadn’t heard the stranger approach, but beside him was a tall man. He had a lean build and wore a rusty colored ponytail that seemed vaguely familiar. The man was running in long languid strides. It seemed fluid, almost effortless. Meanwhile, Foot was grasping for breath. Foot was surprised, he had beaten everyone in the Fort by a mile when it came to running... but he was now completely outclassed.

Though the man’s eyes were covered in mirth, he could see the intelligence in them. He looked Foot up and down, slowly taking stock of the sorry sight he knew he was making.

The man broke into a grin that completely transformed his face. He didn’t look like a clown, but the effect was similar. Foot doubted anyone could take the man seriously when he was smiling like that. He almost looked juvenile, even though he was at least 10 years if not 15 years older than Foot.

-“Name’s Ty. What’s yurs?”

Foot deliberated whether he should answer or not. He didn't see why not. They were almost at the Fort, anyone there would be able to tell this Ty person his name so he replied whilst gasping for air, “…Foo.. aahh…. it’s Foot.”

-“Good name! Names are important you know! You should thank yur Ma for a name like that.”

And then it clicked. The same rust-colored hair!

“Are you… gasp… by any chance… gasp… cough… Hog’s son?”

If possible, Ty’s grin got even wider as he said, “Why yes indeed I am. What gave it away? The conically shaped… appendage?”

At that Foot took a closer look at Ty’s head. It was… completely normal. As he puzzled over this, Ty burst out laughing, slowing his gait a bit. For that Foot was thankful, he didn't even remember why he had been running so fast before.

Confused, Foot slowed down as he considered Ty’s reaction. Immediately he blushed. By instantly looking up at Ty’s head, he had inadvertently proven that he did think of Hog’s head as rather cone shaped.

Ty continued to laugh.

And laugh.

And laugh.

Soon, tears were streaming down his face.

‘Come on man… it wasn't that funny. Get a grip. You're embarrassing yourself.’

-“Ahhhh… Get’s them, hah hah, every time, hah hah.. ahhh.” Ty said as he recovered from his somewhat unwarranted laughing episode.

By this point they had both come to a complete standstill. Ty brushed of the remnants of the tears and headed towards the Fort again at a walk. They were close about five minutes away when Ty became serious again and asked, “What profession did you end up choosing boy? Da rope you into the warrior class?”

“No, I actually still haven’t decided.”

-“Well good! I saw you run back there. You have potential, with the proper training you could be very good.”

“Very good at what? Running?”

-“Well, that is part of it. But I meant messaging. You could become a great messenger if you applied yourself.”

“Messenger? That sounds pretty boring…”

-“Hah! Boring you say?” Ty had gotten a competitive gleam in his eye as he lifted the sleeve to his right arm. It was covered in scars that criss-crossed each other. “You should see my back! Its not boring Foot, its dangerous.” Ty got serious again and continued. “I am a good messenger. One of the best actually… and I still get hurt this much. To me these scars are proof that I did deliver the message. Many don't.” Ty had a grim look about him as he said that last part.

‘I wonder who died – that meant so much to him. That is too much grief for just a friend.’

-“So think carefully before you make a decision. Know that if you enter the messenger guild, it is not going to be easy. Unlike these warriors who can hide behind forts and numbers, being a messenger is often just lonely. You have to learn to trust in your own strength and depend on yourself… for starters you have to learn how to fight a fox…” Ty said while poignantly looking at Foot’s damaged arm.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

Foot instinctively pulled the arm closer to his body, as if he could somehow shield it from Ty’s view.

Ty broke into one of his big smiles and said, “Foot, where do you think I got my scars? Baking? My mother might be a fierce woman, but she would never hurt one of her sons on purpose!”

Foot smiled in response, Ty had a gift for building and relieving tension. He commanded the atmosphere around as if it were an extension of his body that he could manipulate at will. Few even noticed what was going on until after the fact – if at all.

-“Now go to Miranda. She’s a healer. Do you know her?” At Foot’s nod, Ty continued, “Go get your arm patched up and then we can talk if you want.”

They had by now reached the gates and Hog was back in his usual spot. As Ty turned to greet his father, Foot quickly added, “Ty I’ve decided. I want to be a messenger just like you.”

'I have to learn where he gets all his speed and stamina from. They are necessary for my road to becoming Emperor.'

Ty gave one of his grins and said, “Just like me you say? Well that I fear is impossible! I am one of a kind! But I’ll let you be a close second.”

Ty turned to clasp his father. They each firmly slapped each other on the back, a man’s hug if you will. Meanwhile, a window popped up for Foot.

Class Change! You have converted to the Second Restless Messenger class. You can now learn exclusive skills for the class that are withheld from the primary classes. This class is unique and will only ever be granted once to the Restless Messenger’s Apprentice.

Skill: You learned Item Identification.

Skill. You learned Beast Awareness. Allows you to know the location of the enemies around you.

Skill: You learned Life Delivery. Allows you to regenerate your own health at the cost of your own mana. Messages cannot be delivered if you are dead.

Passive Skill: Handcraft is generated.

Skill: You have learned Survival Cooking: Allows you to prepare dishes from meager foraging supplied by your travels.

Ty got himself bandaged up by Miranda and promptly went to the Training Hall. He had been there before on many times before on various quests and was thus on familiar terms with the training master, Flavius. He approached him and asked for his instruction with the sword. After having learned a few of the basic moves, Foot moved on to practice on the scarecrows and let his mind wander.

‘Apparently he didn't get the memo on adequate names. Flavius. Hmm, Flav? Vius? Vi? Us? I wonder what Hog has to say about it. I’ll ask him next time.’

Foot swung the sword as the Sword Master had instructed him. He thought he was doing it right but it didn't feel right. The sword felt awkward, heavy and clumsy in his hand. He wondered if he would really be able to learn this skill – but continued diligently hitting the scarecrow.

‘Ty had a brother. He had definitely said that his mother would never harm any of her sons. He hadn’t heard about any brothers. Granted he hadn’t heard much about Ty before meeting him either. Hog had sometimes vaguely referred to him as a son that might or might not come back at some time or other. No brother was ever mentioned….’

Foot had been swinging at the scarecrow for at least five hours when the sword swung out of his hand. He had misplaced the blow, again. Having lost his patience, he began viciously kicking the scarecrow.

In the last couple of hours he had built up a lot of frustration and anger against that stupid figure. He vented it all out in a never-ending stream of consecutive hits. His legs were hurting from the impact of the scarecrow but he kept kicking, stronger and stronger.

The scarecrow stood there impassively. Nothing seemed to faze it. He swore that if it had a face it would be a patronizing one. Anger bubbled up in him enough for him to summon the last of his strength. He jumped up as high as he could and drop kicked the bastard right in the face.

There was an explosion of hay as the flower sack ripped. Foot felt immense gratification at this, even while his legs and feet were a ragged mess from his rampage against the immobile scarecrow. But he was content.

Skill: You have learned the Drop-Kick: Allows you to deal a great amount of damage in one blow. Has a stunning effect on opponents. Cost : 50 Mana.

‘Drop-kick... Sweet. I guess the game is telling me I should give up on swords then. All for the better, I like using my legs more anyway.’

Flavius was gapping at him when he strolled, or limped, out of the Training Hall. He was soon back at Miranda’s for the second time that day.

-“Tch. Tch. Child. What have you been up to?” She gently reprimanded.

“Training ma’m. Just training.”

-“Training for what? Your death?”

“No I was…” Miranda wasn't listening. She was busy selecting the herbs she needed for the treatment of Foot’s legs.

She was a tiny old thing. She had wispy, but starkly white hair that seemed to float around her face. She had beautiful hair, she was probably over 80 years old, but her hair hung down her back in a thick, neat braid that contradicted the wisps around her face. She had a kind face that was layered in paper-thin, translucent skin. She looked fragile, breakable. ‘The healer looks like she needs whatever she’s concocting more than I do.’

As Foot was waiting for Miranda he asked, “Did you know Ty’s brother?”

If Foot hadn’t been watching her for some sort of reaction, he wouldn't have noticed the moment Miranda froze for a fraction of a second. ‘There is something here.’

-“Ty doesn't have a brother.” Miranda replied.

‘What!? Is she lying? She is lying. Ty himself said he wasn't the only son… and she definitely reacted when I asked about Ty’s brother.’

“But he had a brother. What happened to him?”

Miranda turned from her workbench and gave him an appraising look. She sighed in resignation.

-“No one knows child. No one knows. One day he was out hunting the forests and the next… he wasn't. He never came home so no one knows what really happened to him. He could still be alive, or he could not. Many search parties were sent after him – but none returned successfully. Tork, that was his name, was a great hunter, one of the best. No one dares go deeply into those woods. Strange things happen… things… people… go missing. If you stay on the road, everything is fine but if you veer of the path… well… there is no knowing what might happen. Tork knew that. He knew because he was the best… but he let his pride get in the way. He didn't believe that the forest would hurt him. He went deeper than any of the others and one day he didn't come back. There is a fine line in determining whether pride is a virtue or a sin, remember that child. Remember.”

Miranda sighed dejectedly as she looked at a fixed spot on the wall. She seemed to shake herself awake – and returned to her preparations. Foot almost considered giving up, but then thought better of it. This was still a game, there must ultimately be a way to get Tork back.

'I just have to ask the right questions... If only it were so easy...'

“How long ago did that happen?”

-“Four months ago.”

“What!? But then he could still be alive! The way you talk made it seem like he has been gone forever!”

-“For all intents and purposes he has dear. Once you go into that forest you won’t come back unless it wants you to. Hog might believe his son is coming back. In fact – he believes it so strongly; he refuses to face the truth. If only there were something that could put that man’s worries to rest…”

“I’ll do it! I’ll go find proof that he’s still alive. I’ll even bring him back. And if he’s not alive, I’ll bring something back for Hog to remember him by!”

Miranda was momentarily taken aback.

-“Are you sure about this boy? I don’t agree with you going into the forest – but seeing Hog the way he is just pains me too much. All you have to do is grab a memento, and then you can come back here.”

She shuffled around underneath her workbench and came back up with an old compass made of brass. It was dented and was rusting in some areas.

-“Here take this. It is not as powerful as it once was, but it will suffice for one more trip – even if it breaks it for good.”

Miranda curled Foot’s fingers around the compass and explained, “I couldn't give it to anyone until now because they were all too big. The magic left isn’t powerful enough more that much mass anymore. It had to be someone small. I was going to do it myself. I know it would have been a suicide mission – I can barely walk at a constant pace. But you my boy – you have strong legs. You will be able to go there, get something for Hog and come back. Seeing that boy that way tears me to shreds. I know what it feels like to wait in vain, I don’t wish that on anyone. So take the compass. Break it when you have retrieved what you need. The compass will then teleport you back here.”

She was wringing her fingers worriedly.

-“Foot I can’t ask this of you. I don’t have much to give in return. My most valuable knowledge is my skill, but that will never be enough to cover for what I am asking. I shouldn't have…”

Foot interrupted her with, “Don’t worry. I’ll do it. I’ll be back before you can find out my actual name.” He gave her his best imitation of one of Ty’s smiles. He knew it wouldn't measure up so he left quickly with the compass clutched in his fingers.

Finding Tork

A young man loses himself in the deep forest of Siradin. The balance of life and death is unknown, but proof for his travails is asked for.

Difficulty: D

Requirements: Familiarity with Miranda. A stature of equal or smaller size than Miranda's.

Warning: You will not be able to complete this quest without basic training in your profession. If you try to do it anyways, you will most probably die.

He had never received a level D quest before. All of the quests that he had done inside the Fort had been either E or F ranked. He was surprised and a little overwhelmed by all the recent events. He took a deep breath, tried to calm himself and reminded himself, 'One step at a time.'

Step One: Find the First Restless Messenger, the Second needs some training.

Chapter 3.1

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Please let me know what parts of the story you liked/ didnt like. What part of my writing could use some improvement on? I really appreciate the feedback - helps me make goals.

*This is a pity party - enter at own discretion.*

I hate hate hate hate hate skill boxes and quest boxes and stat boxes. hate hate hate. i have a whole new appreciation for Heesung Nam. ---Anyone out there actually like those boxes? If so, contact me and we can work something out yeah??!!! :twisted:

party end. {[999bas}]