The door hit the bed in their tiny room and didn’t fully open, so they had to squeeze in. Maybe the door opened fully to the rooms with single beds, rather than the twin, but getting two separate rooms or two beds hadn't made sense. Flor hadn’t planned on sleeping.

She snuck back into the room as she returned from the toilet and wash basin at the end of the hallway. She snuggled back into the bed next to a snoozing Alastair—the small, lumpy, low-to-the-ground bed with no sheets and a worn wool blanket. But for a moment, it felt perfect.

The two reciprocated affection and love. But she often traveled for work, which kept them apart more than she liked. Had it not been for that stupid scheduled server reboot in Holst’s Solar Explorer, she would have had time to get him back to their room, in the real world, and given him a proper…that was beside the point now. She had accomplished one of her personal, non-game objectives - Get Alastair back! Fortunately, their activities did not require a mini-game to reach a satisfactory conclusion. Or any loss of health on either of their parts.

As she settled in, she felt him stir. She’d give him a moment to regain his senses before discussing how they might get out of the game. They truly had an unwieldy amount of unknowns. {For that keeping track: 1) was there truly a way out of this scenario; 2) was time passing normally in the real world; 2a) would they waste away; 3) were there other players in this “server”; 4) how did they advance; 5) why puzzles? This list goes on…} Such as, if petting a cat unlocked an achievement {…speculation based on the daemon being unlocked shortly after she had pet the cat…}, and achievements unlocked new interfaces such as daemons, would petting more cats unlock more interfaces?

And what was it that her daemon did? She realized she didn’t quite know. None of these achievements or actions had come with an explanation, and there wasn’t a repository of information she could call up from the interface. Maybe there was some NPC out there that would answer their questions, or a book on a shelf in the random houses they could barge into. NPCs never minded strange players just wandering into their residences without an invitation and looting them blindly. Or talking to them when they were about their daily activities.

Finally, Alastair woke up enough to ask, “What time is it?”

“I have no concept of time here, other than day and night. It’s still day. If I were to guess, about two hours after sunrise.”

“It was so rainy out earlier that I didn’t catch the sunrise.”

“Well, get ready for it. Outside of a few moments now and again, I think it rains constantly in this place. At least it has for the last two days.”

“So, we have a full day and full health to find and pet some cats, minus a couple of hours. What’s our game plan?”

Having been the more experienced of the two, but less inclined to exploit game systems, Flor decided to test Alastair’s knowledge gaps. He could then figure out what and where to go that would allow them to escape from the island.

“First, let’s check your interfaces. What can you bring up?”

He stared blankly for a moment, then said “General settings, which seems to have the logout function, which doesn’t work, by the way, and pause the game. I haven’t tried that one, have you?”

“Only by myself,” she said. “Not with another player.”

“We should try that out later. Wait, other players?”

“Only speculating. It’s unlikely we’re in this instance all by ourselves. The other characters on the pier might be intelligent NPCs because their answers seem more scripted and informed about the world than you or me. But I haven’t talked with all of them, so that’s just a sample. And maybe the real players don’t all wake up in Skyrim’s wagon. Or boat, in this case.”

“Okay. Let’s table pausing. I could skip the cut scene, but it’s not available right now. Next tab…” he went silent again “…has music and sound and display settings.”

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

“We should get you set up on those. Maybe I had those on the first day but needed to reset them yesterday. Then I didn’t have to reset them today. Anyway, I appreciate having the background music and sounds at a lower volume.”

“Absolutely! While I don’t mind this gentle music for setting the mood, it was a bit distracting. Give me a moment to set up my preferences.”

As he focused on his settings, she connected a couple of dots. She hadn’t had to reset her settings when she woke on the boat today, which meant something different had happened yesterday. Oh, it’s probably the daemon. It’s too bad the Daemon Interface doesn’t give specific details other than “summon Daemon.” She decided to double-check. Sure enough, that was the only option available.

Alastair blinked and was back. “Okay. That’s better. And I also have a Daemon Interface. Am I also getting a fancy chipmunk?”

“One way to find out. There is a summon option, there. Just beware that it might come on suddenly.”

“I’m in full health, right? So I should be fine.” He blanked out and then in again. “Here we go.” They waited for a moment. Nothing happened.

“Maybe you need to pet a cat?” said Flor. “We’ll table that one also, then.”

“So, my interfaces are set up. Do I have to do this each day?” Suddenly, something bumped into the ventilation window. {Don’t think free rooms at the prison tavern have full windows.} “What was that?”

“Might as well check,” said Flor. She walked to the grated window, pulled the flap, and then jumped back as a nose stuck through the now-opened grate. The nose twitched. “Uhm, Alastair, I think your daemon arrived. And is a bunny. A flying bunny.” Sure enough, she could see big floppy ears as the bunny attempted to climb through the grating.

He stood and ran to the window. The nose twitched as he came close and looked at it. “I…I thought you were pulling my leg. How do we get it in here?”

“We could go to it. Or bust the window. It’ll likely be repaired when we wake on the boat tomorrow.” She didn’t waste another minute before yanking at the grating. Alastair joined in a moment later. After a few pulls, with a bang, the window came off and the flying bunny flew into the room, around Alastair, and then landed on his shoulder.

“What IS it? You can find its name in the interface,” she said.

“Wait a moment.” He went into a dead stare. “Her name is Edith Tova Christel. Ha, ETC. She’s a skvader. I’ve never heard of them, but there aren’t any other details.”

“Well, having a demon means you shouldn't have to reset your preferences each morning.”

“That’s a small boon, but still a boon. So, we pet cats and expand our interfaces. Sounds like a plan. Wait, do you think we get benefits from petting the same cat twice? Or if I pet the same cat you’ve petted?”

“Only the very real pleasure of having petted a cat.”

“Sure sure. Okay, as for the puzzles. I’ve done the Sudoku manacles one. What else is there.”

“I did what they called a ‘general puzzle-2’ to cross the roof to get to that cat. It was a five-by-five grid with holes, and the ‘safe’ direct path was trapped. I was limited to ten moves before the puzzle reset.”

“So general two and Sudoku. Anything else?” he asked.

“Again, I’m uncertain what happened on day one. Maybe not having KEC activated made me lose my progress.”

A knock sounded at the door.

“Yes?!” said Flor, unwilling to open the door for her and Alastair’s minimally dressed state and the cryptid bunny on Alastair’s shoulder.

“This is Horace. There was a bang from here. I need to check to ensure there is no damage.”

Flor and Alastair gave each other a look. As far as she knew, they had no money or items to pay for the damage. “One moment. We’re getting dressed. Come back in five minutes, please.”

“You have one minute. I don’t take lightly at damage to my tavern.”

Alastair looked at her then mouthed, “Should we try to fix it?”

Flor nodded consent, then said, “We’re getting dressed now. We’ll open in a moment. Alastair began to pull on his underpants and grabbed the grate simultaneously. Working to pull up his pants with one hand and replace the grate with the other should have been amusing, but the artificial time constraint placed on them made Flor worried.

Was there a combat interface? Would this engage that? Neither she nor Alastair had a weapon, nor the skills to prevent being strong-armed by a brute the size of Horace.

She pulled her britches on and then moved the short distance to the window. Taking the grate, she whispered, “At least get your pants up and hide your daemon.”

“You have until I count to ten,” Horace said through the door.

Flor pushed the grate into place, but it resisted. Alastair pulled his pants up and then blanked to engage his interface.

“I’m coming in in eight…nine…” The grate pushed in with a click. “…ten.” The door opened and hit the bed frame. The light from the hallway lantern poured through the door then dimmed as Horace ducked into the room and looked around.

Flor turned and looked at Horace with her best intimidating look. She realized she was disheveled and began straightening her clothes. “You said you heard a bang?”

“Yeah. Doesn’t look like anything unusual. Except the familiar that dissipated. Perhaps I didn’t mention, but pets, including familiars, aren’t allowed in this tavern.”

“Oh, we’re so sorry. We promise to remember next time.”

“There won’t be a next time. Get your things and go.”

“But…”

“No arguments or I’ll remove your next two meal stipends, also. You’re barred from staying here tonight.”