He found a hefty chunk of change on the ogre - three-hundred-eighty-two gold pieces to be precise - and a rusty dagger. He had left the dagger. The gold had immediately transferred itself into his inventory, where it stored for free.

He still had no idea where he was or where he was going, but he could see the sun and knew that he was headed generally east. Twice he spotted hills in the distance, but what province, zone, or country he was in was still a mystery.

The duck had deigned to join him. Waddling by his side, the pale white bird occasionally took wing as it navigated over a hole or a log. Lefty did not remember having a familiar before. In fact, he distinctly remembered having declined the option for a familiar. So, wherever this duck had come from, it had not been magically summoned to act as his magical pet. This fact seemed to line up with the duck’s demeanor as there was something about the way it waddled that was less like a duck and more like an old west gunslinger who had just wandered into Tombstone in search of a bounty.

Whatever his waddling companion was or wasn’t, Lefty was suspiciously certain that he was safer with the duck than without.

Together, the two of them continued to march through the forest. Or, in the duck’s case, waddle. Twice he stopped to see if he could log out. Neither time had worked. His H.U.D popped up with no problem, but the [log out] button was mysteriously nowhere to be found. Searching the notes, notifications, and patch updates, he found nothing to explain the phenomena. Whatever was going on, it appeared to be beyond him.

So he thought about this as he walked. What could he do? Was he stuck here? Logged in to a virtual reality video game with no way out? Would he eventually starve? Or had his consciousness been downloaded into the game and he was now wandering about as an electronic consciousness tied to an electronic avatar? He didn’t know.

He tried to remember what his life had been like before he had logged into this game and found he couldn’t. He had the vague sense that he had been employed and had a family, but couldn’t remember what the job was or what his family looked like or even what their names were. In fact, he didn’t even know if they were still alive.

So he kept walking as the duck waddled by his side. They were headed downhill now and soon they found a stream that wound its way between a pair of hills and then down into the valley, so they followed it. After a time, they stopped as the duck dipped itself in the water and Lefty filled his water skin.

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A plan was beginning to come to him. He couldn’t remember anything about his past life, but he did remember a lot about this game. The game was called Sable Unlimited. It was run by a company called Concept, and if he remembered correctly, Concept employed people as game masters who worked to help players with problems and complaints. These game masters were usually found in towns and cities. Well, he definitely had a problem and he definitely wanted someone to complain to. So, if he could find his way to the nearest settlement then perhaps he could find himself a game master and at least let someone know he was stuck here.

Until then he would be walking.

The sun was now bright overhead as the occasional cloud lent shade. He and the duck continued following the stream as the babbling water led them downhill. Then a man appeared. Lefty spotted him sitting slumped over, his back against a tree. Both he and the duck stopped. Lefty tried to look closer, but the tree shade made the man look little more than a shadow.

There was the unmistakable air of danger. The kind of danger that usually ended in someone getting stabbed, maimed, or murdered, none of which Lefty was particularly excited to participate in. He had never been particularly good at reacting to situations of this sort. In fact, in all of his years of adventuring on Wraath, his teammates and party members had usually accused him of things like ‘idiocy,’ ‘foolishness,’ or ‘utter incompetence.’ This was usually why he was reduced to begging, bribing, or conning his way into most adventuring parties, and why his membership in said parties was directly tied to how long they found his shtick amusing. However, he was now suddenly keenly aware that he was standing in the middle of a forest that may or may not be full of hostile intent while holding nothing more than his staff, his spellbook and his wits., while his only companion was a duck that appeared to be developing a growing disdain for Lefty’s lack of survival skills. So after he had stared at the motionless man for a good minute, Lefty persuaded himself to not panic and instead do the next most logical thing he could think of, which was to ask the duck if he had any ideas.

“So just what do you think we should do?”

The duck let out a soft warble as it studied the motionless man. It then lifted its head like a periscope as it searched for any other unwanted interlopers. Satisfied they were alone, the duck then lowered its head and began sneaking toward the motionless man. Reluctantly, Lefty followed.

As they neared, they could see the man was wearing black leather armor and was mostly bald but for a few tufts of black hair that stuck out from his skull in haphazard fashion. There was also the sword he held clutched in his hand. A few feet away, Lefty stopped to lean down on his knees and look closer. He could see now that the man’s hair was not black but burned, and his leather armor was not black but charred. Then, to Lefty’s surprise, the man let out a soft gasp.

Slowly, the burned man lifted his head, opened his good eye, and turned his head. Seeing the mage and the duck, the burned man’s eyes went wide as a ragged rattle escaped his throat. Then, a final gasp as the man’s good eye rolled back into his skull and his head slumped again against his chest.

Lefty reached over to check the man’s pulse. He was dead.