Sorry for this being late. I'll bring out part 2 when I get back from Tuition...

*

The twin mages considered the smoking piles of ash that were once the two knights that accompanied them. A powerful necromancer had descended upon the battlefield when the tides of war began to turn against the punitive force. Raining unholy black flames, the necromancer immediately made an impact, engulfing and obliterating several unfortunate fighters immediately.

Morton casually brushed soot and ash off his rather stained robes. On better days, his robes were a fiery red, but for today, it was just grey. The wind came in, blowing away the piles of ash and adding to the pollution.

“Bloody hell.” the mage grumbled as he busied himself with the task, ignoring the carnage that is currently occurring around him. “Those stains will never come off, even if I were to enlist the help of a tailor.”

“…” his twin, Horton, a mage that wore sweeping robes the shade of the sky, did not reply. Somehow he has managed to stay pristine, a stark contrast from his filthy and rather soot ridden colleague.

“Well, that sucked.” Morton gave up on the task and scanned the battlefield for any way to turn to the tables. As expected however, there was none. Whatever happened? It had been going so well…

It had been a hotly pitched battle between the two forces, that of a Orc-Undead Alliance and that of a punitive force consisting of Player Characters (PCs), with the momentum going back and forth between the two. Until a few minutes ago, it was difficult to tell who had the advantage over the other. The outcome practically hung in the balance.

No one knew what was the actually caused the battle to turn against the Punitive Force. Who knows, perhaps a slight hiccup occurred somewhere, or perhaps even a pebble landing somewhere on the weights that signified the undead. Perhaps it had been a particularly heavy pebble? Whatever the cause was, rumor has it that it started at the area where the Vanguard Forces once stood. There was no one here now, the entire force annihilated by Orcish Glaives and axes, Skeletal Swords and fists as well as… one another.

By some form of sorcery (Morton’s eyes shot angrily at the necromancer as he thought that), the idiots lost sight of the enemy that was just standing in front of them and started duking it out among one another. It was as if they were fighting for something precious, a rare treasure that suddenly emerged in the midst of the battle. Who knows, perhaps it was a really attractive lady that caused this. No one knew for certain, although the thought about an attractive lady being the cause of this had some merit. Everyone knows that you cannot resist an attractive woman, other girl gamers be damned (and everyone knows that these so-called “girl gamers” were G.I.R.L.s anyway.)

The commander, a Paladin called Gordon, had dashed over despite the mages’ misgivings on the matter, and the mages have not heard from him since. Perhaps he had lost himself in the prospect of a good fight. Gordon loved to fight, Morton thought, grinning as he recalled Gordon beating up the wolves back in the days where they both started. Perhaps, although it was unlikely, he had been beaten in combat by a young warrior wielding a lance as the rumors stated. Morton had his doubts of the latter. Gordon was the commander for a reason, after all.

*Crunch.*

*BASH.*

“Chi-Wik!!”

*CRASH*

Morton was broken out of his revelry by the sounds of a blunt weapon meeting flesh and bone. Grunts and screeches of pain and the sounds of the cracking of bone was audible as a tall figure suddenly appeared in the midst of a small crowd of Undead and Orcs, steadily beating his way to the mages with methodical ease. Undead creatures and Orcs were sent flying with every swing of his hammer.

The Paladin Gordon finally emerged from the crowd, a wide grin plastered across his face. Morton dropped his jaws at the sight. Gordon’s plate armor had been badly damaged around the chest area and was now slowly falling apart, and a gaping hole could be seen in his chest. Blood ran freely from that grievous wound. Perhaps that rumor about that Lancer had some credence after all…

“By the God, Gordon!! What happened to you?!” Morton couldn’t believe his eyes. Gordon was one of the highest leveled PCs in the Punitive Force, and his armor was unique, the best of its kind at this level range. It specialized in defense to the very core, and a blessing from the High Priest of Freya further augmented its defensive capabilities. What kind of monster would have been able to inflict a wound like this to him, Morton could not imagine.

Gordon held up his hand to forestall any further questioning.

“I have just been in a wonderful fight.” he said simply, the words flowing out easily as if he was just discussing the weather. “The victor, he let me live. Was it out of mercy or gratitude from having such a wonderful fight, I did not know. A kindred spirit, he was.”

While Gordon was busy pondering this question, his knees finally gave way under him and he collapsed, falling face-down on to the ground.

“Crap!” Gritting his teeth, Morton ran over to the fallen holy warrior, Horton close behind him. He examined Gordon’s body, checking for wounds. However, other than the grievous wound in his chest, there were no injuries that were of note. Still, Gordon required immediate attention from a cleric or priest. Eyeing the Necromancer in the distance, Morton turned to his blue counterpart.

“Sound the horn for the Punitive Force to retreat. With the commander out of the fight, there was probably no possibility for a turn-around. The only thing we can do is to retreat and recuperate, and plan ahead for the next fight.”

Horton nodded, raising his hands and firing a pre-arranged signal flare into the air. Within a few moments, a loud and monotonous blare could be heard across the battlefield, and the remaining Punitive Forces began to take defensive positions. Moving steadily back while holding off the enemies, the Punitive Force steadily retreated.

In the blare of the war horn, Morton quietly added: “And find out about the Lancer that did this to the Commander. Chances are that we probably won’t be able to find him among the Forces when we head back.”

In the aftermath of the battle, people trawled over recorded videos hoping to find out what went wrong. Towards the end, they all discovered something. In the midst of the Vanguard forces, a young warrior that wielded just a spear shaft, but fought like a rampaging tiger and beat aside the other fighters with relentless efficiency. He fought with a strange skill set, changing quickly between different stances and even creating a spear head towards the end of the fight.

“A strange skill set.”

“Wasn’t that just Chinese Martial Arts?”

“No, I see hints of other fighting styles in there. It is a bit rough, but perhaps it is a customized fighting technique?”

People were quick to examine the video, having not seen this manner of fighting except in old Chinese Fighting Movies.

“Either way, he was surely the cause of the collapse of the Punitive Force.”

“Was it the advent of the undead that did this?”

“They did handle the undead pretty well though. The commander fought like a boss.”

“Which means that this man must surely be the cause. And for that he must pay.”

“You are quick to jump into conclusions, but there is some merit to this.”

Disgruntled members from the disgraced Punitive Force soon came to the same conclusion. Nevertheless, they didn’t know his name. And so they gave him one.

And the name “The Crazy Sonofabitch with The Lance” quickly rose from the discussion and became well-known… Just kidding here. The name “Crazy Eagle” did fall into some repute, however.

**

Speaking of falling, by the way…

*THUMP*

“Owwww… That hurts.”

At the same time, the clock struck Five, and the alarm that I had set blared across my room.

“Ugh…” I picked myself up from the floor and rubbed my sore back. Last night, after logging off from the game (not by choice, I would like to add), I simply got out of my capsule and without changing into my sleeping attire, jumped into bed and fell asleep like the dead. At that point, I recalled what had happened yesterday.

I balled my hand into a fist, and tried, unsuccessfully, to cram it into my mouth. Failing to do so, I walked up to my cupboard, and carefully dragged out a sand bag on which I practiced my fencing on. I raised a clenched fist, and drove it deep into the area that was meant to mark out the midsection of a human body.

“Dammit, Dammit, Dammit!!”

In quick succession, I pummeled the punching bag, fueled by my rather bad temper. The punching bag shook from the force of my blows. The attacks were unskilled and unrefined however; and quickly petered out.

Barely winded by that unrefined display of anger, I wiped away my sweat with my left hand and fell back unto my bed, ignoring the fact that sweat seeped into the bed sheets. It was laundry day anyway, and I had planned to do a little cleaning up today.

Speaking of cleaning up, however, I was frustrated. I had hoped to tie up the loose ends at that battle and hence cap off my one-month’s trial. Instead, I was unceremoniously replaced by a body double of sorts, and my mind was blasted to a strange foggy world where I met those things known as Spear Spirits. Two of them, to be exact.

Receiving a quest that would take me to the far reaches in the West Side of the Versailles Continent, I was to go there in order to help the Spear Spirit of the Lance (thereafter known as just Lance) recover her memories. Yes, you heard me right, I clearly said “Her”. Despite the rather masculine connotation of the name Lance, Lance is actually a girl. A honest-to-cuteness little girl in armor.

Either way, that quest threatened to prolong my stay in this game for a fair bit, and I had planned to prepare for my move overseas to continue my studies, having passed out from the Army after 2 years of mandatory service. Not to mention that I planned to return the capsule to Lilee before I did…

You see, I have this rather annoying habit. I would not leave any strings loose and hanging, it seemed like a disservice in its own way. It was possible that this was the reason why I stayed on to most MMORPGs for a longer period of time – and why I try to avoid them like the plague.

Well, frustrations aside, this game was surprisingly fun and immersive… Thinking this, I leapt out of bed again and went to the desktop. It was a really old model which I had kept in good condition with careful maintainance over the years. I had played many games on this, many of which have long collapsed, others stored and preserved on disks, relics from the past.

I opened up the Internet Browser and logged into my email account. Oh, I got mail.

I opened up the first message from the top…

***

Back at the Howling Tempest Guild Headquarters to the East…

“Hey Howard,

It has almost been a month since you started playing the game…”

Lilee typed out the email while she carefully threaded chains for crafting Chainmail armor. Properly made Chainmail was actually better than plate armor in terms of defense, weight and flexibility, but it actually really annoying to make since blacksmiths had to create individual links for each part of the chain. As such, she had been on this particular suit of armor for hours.

She set down the pliers that she had been using for this piece of intricate work, and pushed the hair out of her eyes, bundling up her hair and tying it in a pony tail. Having settled this, she continued typing on the hologram projection in front of her:

“I had planned to spend a bit of time with you to show the ropes, but it seems that life had other plans… *looks at Howard accusingly*”

Incidentally, she could have just pm’ed (Private Messaged) Howard with the Whisper option, but she found it rather embarrassing to do so. Besides, he doesn’t seem to be on. Anyways, she picked up the pliers again, and fed another small piece of steel wire into the chain, twisting the wire to carefully create the links. As she did that, she got a hand free, and continued to type the message.

“Anyways, I am currently heading to the East. The Howling Tempest Guild is currently having a expedition there, how exciting!! Oh, and I won’t be seeing you for quite a while, so stay out of trouble, alright?”

She kept the message light-hearted as she finished her work. Looking at the completed chainmail with satisfaction, she grinned to herself as she held up the armor and looked at it.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

Howard probably won’t drop the game so easily, she thought to herself, knowing the kind of person Howard was. He always took his work seriously and would not leave things hanging… Her rather devious master (make that mistress, probably) plan is coming together rather nicely. She was rather grateful for Jeanne for being so willing to take up her request. Jeanne had joined in the game at the same time as Lilee had, and would indeed be a huge help to Howard.

“Anyways, I’ll meet you later on. I’m sure that we will have much to talk about. Meet up soon!!”

With that happy thought in mind, she finished off her message. She made a note to contact Jeanne later on, and opened up the browser and checked her messages for any updates on the Punitive Force Raid.

“…”

A few seconds later, she paled as she read the forum messages that were posted up on the message board. A few videos had also been posted here for her viewing pleasure.

“Good grief, Howard.” Lilee muttered as she kept reading. “What have you gotten yourself into?”

She typed out a quick message and sent it to Jeanne, warning her of the impending danger. She also hastily typed on a post-script before sending her message to Howard, heaving a rather large sigh as she did so.

“Why is it that you always have to make me worry about you?”

****

I smiled to myself as I slowly read through the postscript at the end of Lilee’s message. Well, it’s not quite my fault that I went nuts and beat up so many people, right? Ah well, I should be able to handle this.

I looked at the punching bag again, shook my head and continued looking through my mail.

Hmmmm, doesn’t seem to anything else that’s new… I sighed and logged off from the website, and opened up the forums. The rules of the game is that you should always do some research before you embark on something, right? I have also received a rather difficult quest…

I manipulated the controls on my desktop, and opened up the forum page regarding current events in the West. I also opened up the page that was labeled “A Minor and Extremely Incomplete Primer to the West.”

The many kingdoms in the West of the Versailles Continent are well-known for its many feats of Martial Prowess, and is home to several Knightly Orders. It is also there that the Great Knight Saint George, Slayer of the Fire-breathing Dragon Belias the Red, was named the Patron Saint, establishing it as a prime location for new players to start out in the Knight Profession…

So it seems that I will be expecting plenty of knights (both PCs and NPCs) there… I kept reading. Another portion soon leapt out at me.

The West is also plagued by hordes of demons that attack the kingdoms on a regular basis. Many of those kingdoms accept large numbers of adventurers in order to defend the kingdoms against threats like this. Such areas are a good place to farm Honor Points, which are difficult to obtain and can be used for a variety of things…

That’s useful to note…

Also of note is the epic tale of the Journey to the West, where the Holy Monk, Tripitaka, travelled to the West in order to obtain the Holy Scriptures. With the Monkey King Sun Wukong, the Monk Pig Zhu Bajie and the River Troll Sha Wujing in tow, the group performed many miracles and brought peace upon the land. Records of their Feats can still be found across the land.

I wonder if that was a clue? The Spear Spirits have been awfully vague with their quest explanation, but that allusion to the three characters from the Journey to the West is surely a hint as to what I must do in order to finish the quest… I looked through my notes, and committed the important portions to memory.

Well, the Journey to the West aside, the Kingdom where Great Knight Saint George stayed at looks like a great place to start… He should have the greatest relation to the quest. Well, I guess I would have to wait for until I get back into the game in order to find out more of the quest…

Speaking of going back… I sighed and took out my account book, making some calculations on my set budget.

And a few minutes later, I picked up the phone, contacting Unicorn Corporation, Services Counter.

*****

“Hello? Ah, Kevin, you guys have already logged on? Can you hear me? Press the Whisper option in order to reply.” Alf contacted his student via the Whisper option while jogging at a leisurely pace.

“…” the reply from Kevin was rather inaudible.

“You are the only one that just arrived at the Sleepy Fortress? Alright, you wait for the rest at the fountain, and try to make contact. I’ll, uh, come by and meet you guys in a second, alright? I’m currently… engaged.” Alf casually leapt over a barrel that rolled unto his path.

“…” Alf listened carefully and nodded at certain points, not that Kevin was able to see that gesture.

“No, I’m not getting married; the missus wouldn’t let me hear the end of this if she knows.” Alf chuckled as he carefully climbed up a short wall, dropping easily unto the other side.

“…”

“Look, I’m busy at the moment, just wait for the rest to show up; I’ll meet up with you guys once I finish off some business. I’ll see you in a little bit. Yes, I will surely come. Very good, see you later…” Alf turned off the whisper option and looked left and right. “Now, where was I? Oh right, I was supposed to be running for my dear life.” He dashed to the right side, narrowly avoiding a cart full of eggs.

“GET BACK HERE!!” Sounds of footsteps could be heard from the distance. Hearing this, Alf hastened his footsteps, seeing a clearing ahead -

“STOP!!” a figure appeared in front of him, hoping to stop him.

“Which kind of person would listen to you in this situation, dumb ass!!” Alf used the momentum from his run to throw a straight punch, which landed solidly on the figure’s jaw and sent him flying.

As the guard landed on a cart carrying flour and caused an explosion which obscured the entire area, Alf made use of the resulting confusion to think of a plan. There’s too many guards, he decided.

He was only minding his own business when he was attacked. He was just walking into the inn at the start of the day before he went out to hunt…

“Oi, isn’t that the guy who Puppy wanted dead?”

Mafia talk for the police, what has the world become, he wanted to ask, but he stopped himself and continued to listen. He went up to the counter and called for the daily special, that of a cup of coffee, Toast and Eggs Benedict*. He quite liked the way they did the hollandaise sauce…

“He was said to have single-handedly knocked out 4 guards though.”

Indeed, he is awesome like that. He hummed to himself while he took a quick sip of his coffee.

“Think Puppy would owe us if we took that guy out for him?”

Alf frowned at this point. He motioned to the innkeeper, and muttered: “Could you make my order to go, please?” In his hand he palmed a silver coin, which he carefully set down on the counter. The innkeeper eyed the coin, nodded and scurried off.

“That guy looks suspicious anyway. Oi Mike, hurry up with that decision. Are we in or out?”

“Yeah, let’s try that. Hang on; I’ll get the other guys. I imagine that it would be funny if Puppy owes us all favors.” the other guard motioned to the other tables. A few seconds later, another guard waved back in acknowledgement, and another, and another… It was the roll call method used by the military in special operations!! And the whole inn’s full of guards!!!

The innkeeper quickly came back with a paper bag, which he quietly passed to Alf. Alf nodded his gratitude and made his way slowly to the door. As he passed, the guards stood up casually… Alf fought down the urge to increase his pace… Slow and easy does the trick for what he had in mind.

As he finally made his way to the door, he made a show of putting his hand on the door knob. Now twist and…

*BANG!!* he slammed the door open and ran out as fast as his legs can carry him, leaving the door swinging on its hinges. The guards that were about to jump him blinked in surprise as they watched him scurry away.

“What just happened?”

“He’s on to us!! GET HIM!!!”

And since then, he had been chased by the guards, the entire Battalion of them in fact.

He would have to try to cut them down to size… The flour particles gave him an idea how to do so.

He turned left; and headed to the marketplace, where it would be easy to blend in, and was able to make out a bullock cart being ridden by the milkman, that traveled about the city everyday delivering bottles of fresh milk to its residents.

More importantly, that cart is being pulled by bullock. Big, fierce looking and easily spooked bullock. With sharp, pointy horns. He could also make out the cart pushed by the haggler (an egg seller), as well as the cart that transport the other baking supplies, such as the sugar and flour. And his extremely imaginative mind hatched a devious plot. He took up a long cloth, and soaked it with water and walked up casually to the bullock cart ridden by the milkman.

And with vicious force, he smacked the wet cloth onto the buttocks of one of the bull that pulled the cart. And for good measure, he smacked the other bull as well. And sat back to watch the mayhem.

A marketplace is an extremely volatile place, where a series of elements flooded the entire area. Precariously balanced on the very edge of a cliff, all that is needed in a smack of a wet cloth in the right place to cause it all to tumble down. So… the bullock started to rampage, and crashed into the haggler cart, spilling milk everywhere and causing the barely balanced pile of eggs to spill over…

And the bulls continued to rampage, and crashed into the other cart, the one that held the sacks of flour and sugar. White particles flooded the air. Alf proudly watched his handiwork, and took out a cigarette, which was surprising available at the shady alley around here, but is actually a stick of cinnamon bought from the general store. He carefully lit a match, as though pretending to light the cigarette…

And waited for the guards to come and deal with the resulting mayhem. Ah, here they come now…

“You cannot escape!! Surrender peacefully and come with us!!” one of them shouted. Alf ignored the ultimatum and muttered under his breath.

“To make a beautiful cake, you need flour, eggs, sugar and milk… Mix well, and pour the resulting mixture into the cake tin…”

He held up the lit match. Flour particles still flooded the air.

“And to finish, bake the cake mixture in the oven… at 444 degrees Celsius for 44 minutes*.”

He tossed the match.

Author’s notes:

- Eggs Benedict: Eggs Benedict is an American dish that consists of two halves of an English muffin, topped with ham or bacon, poached eggs, and Hollandaise sauce. I probably shouldn’t be talking about breakfast at a time like this… *stomach rumbles*

- The reason why Alf was pretty obsessed with the number "4" was that the chinese word for 4, ? (Sì), was almost pronounced the same way phonetically as the chinese word for "die" or ? (S?). About a stroke off, but it's the thought that counts.

******

“Wow, so this is the world of Royal Road…”

“So pretty!! And Realistic!!”

“Oh good, you guys are the first to show up. Let’s wait for the rest.”

“Eh? What’s taking them so long? And where’s Coach?”

“Oh, he’s a bit busy at the moment; he said he will come by later to show us around. Check your back pack; make sure that you have the starting supplies...”

“Eeeeh… Does that mean that we have to sit around here to wait?”

“No, we just need to –“

*BOOM*

“…”

“…Uh, I think what Coach is currently up to.”

“That’s Coach?”

“Are you new here? That sort of thing is just the sort of thing he would do.”

“But… an explosion? Is he a fencing teacher or a terrorist?”

“My friend, I can tell that you are a newcomer indeed. We have much to talk about. Ah, here comes the others now.”

*******