"What the hell?" I ask.
"That's my fucking chest," he growls.
"You have the key?"
"No, but if you looked carefully enough, you can see the lock. And..." He holds up the animal claw. "I'm gonna open it."
Ewan attempts to move but the assassin drops the claw back to his jugular.
"You're level 2," I say, clutching at a way to calm the situation. "Have you been here long?"
Listen to me: Do you come here often? Enjoy meeting people? Or just slash their throats?
"Since this morning." He narrows his eyes. "Did you arrive together?"
"No way!" The unison we shout the word is the only co-operative statement we've had.
"We met," I explain. "Want to join us?"
He falters, shoulders slumping slightly. "Join you doing what?"
"Finding a way out. Have you found anything?" I ask. "Any quests that might give us some clue what's happening here?"
"No. I saw somebody else though. Thought she was an NPC until I got closer. She was over by the lake staring into space."
"Close enough to know what class?"
"Zara. Paladin. Level 2." He nods at me. "Are you a dwarf?"
Ewan coughs a laugh and I scowl at his half-smile. "Screw you," I reply.
"What you gonna do? Hit me with your stick, sweetheart? You know we can't hurt each other, right?"
Stepping closer, I wiggle my pinky finger at him. "You can keep your tiny weapon away from me."
Ewan wrests himself away. "I'm not a ninja! How the hell did I know you saw the chest first?"
"You can have what I don't want," Dean says and squats down. "There'd better be something useful in here."
A few minutes later, items pile on the floor next to him. He slides things into a pile for himself: decidedly stale looking bread, a glass bottle with green liquid in and a pair of leather boots. I wriggle my toes, jealous. These shoes aren't any better than socks.
"Take your pick."
I pull out a blue, cloth item.
Robe of Darkwood
Slightly bloodstained.
Level 1
+ 1 Wisdom
+5 HP
The originality in the game stuns me. Next we'll come across Townsville. Or a Great Sandy Desert. Perhaps Excalibur?
The robe is roughly cut, with a belt made of twine, and no sleeves. I hold it against myself, the dirty cloth reaches the floor. The last owner didn't have access to a washing machine, evidently.
Or electricity.
Or the twenty-first century.
I glance up at Ewan's perpetually scowling face. "Want to fight over this too?"
"Don't want. I'm not wearing a fucking dress!"
"Dude, you're a Cleric. You need the Wisdom," puts in Dean.
"Even if I wanted to, it's too small," he snaps. "I'll wait for something decent."
"Not pretty enough for you?" I ask as I pull the item over my head. "I think it would look lovely. Matches your eyes."
He swears at me under his breath and sorts through the rest of the items with the toe of his equally crap shoes.
Animal bones. Indistinguishable and foul smelling food stuff, possibly cheese. "Jesus!" I hold my arm across my nose but the smell invades my senses still.
Ewan sinks onto the floor and puts his head in his hands, muttering something. Have I overstepped the mark? My adrenaline pushed me through the last hour or so; Ewan found himself in... wherever we are earlier than me.
This shit is real and we're totally unprepared.
Silence follows the loot distribution, but the hostility remains; distrust on all sides.
I pick up the green bottle. "This might be worth keeping."
Anti-Pestilence Potion
Cures all diseases up to Level 3
"No healing potions?" asks Ewan.
I poke at the other items.
Mouldy Cheese
Tastes better than it smells
Doubles Health Revival Points
"This?"
Ewan shakes his head in disgust. Does he not remember that at this level we take anything and everything? I shove it into my backpack.
"So, do you come here often?" I ask Dean with a light tone I'm not feeling right now.
"Huh?"
"Level 2. You must've seen more of the world than we have."
He shrugs. "Killed a shitload of spiders."
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"And that levelled you up?" asks Ewan.
"Yeah. Been grinding my way through them. Figured I might find some decent loot too." He holds up the claw. "But nope. I forgot how useless starting area gear is."
I rest my elbow on the table and support my head in my hands. "Has anybody caught up to how crazy this is?"
Dean fastens his bulging backpack and shrugs it onto his shoulder. "I'm not stopping to think anything, I'm going to level up and find out how the hell to win this."
"Win?" I ask.
"Uh. It's a game, Eleanor."
"Oh? Thanks for the reminder," I snark. "If it's a game where are the quests? And how come no character selection screen?"
Ewan grabs his favourite gardening implement and stands. "He has a point. Maybe we should wipe the forest of spiders together and level up? Find a town? We might find someone with more information who can show us mechanics. Maybe we cam choose character skills properly - one spell is shit."
Together.
We eye each other, unable to hide the suspicion. I haven't thought past the end of the road we followed before veering off into this cottage. If past game experience is anything to go by, the further we go the less likely monsters will dance around, ignoring us and the more likely they'll rip our heads off.
But Ewan's right. We need to find somebody to clarify what the hell is going on. If we're in a game, we need help to gain the skills needed to fight and level.
"What the hell is happening?" I mumble to myself, looking back to the empty chest. Something catches my eye, a round object resting in the bottom corner of the wooden box. I reach in and close my hand over a smooth white stone, around an inch in diameter.
"What's that?" asks Dean.
"Not sure." I hold the object in the palm of my hand and, as I do, a faint blue pattern appears on the surface. A rune? I trace the symbol I vaguely recognise, circular with a triangle and letter S in the centre.
Quest: Find Rueben at the inn in Grunwald and show him the stone.
Reward: 500 XP
Reward: A mysterious meal
Ewan takes the stone from my palm and immediately the rune fades. He wrinkles his nose and hands it back. "I guess we're heading to Grunwald then. Hopefully he can point me to the exit."
Somehow, I don't think the exit will appear anytime soon.
#
Dean and claw, Ewan and fork, plus me and tree branch venture into the dark night now gripping the game world. The temperature dropped too, and I shiver despite my extra layer.
"We gonna farm these spiders and level up?" asks Ewan and strides towards a pack.
"Use your spell..." Too late, blood spurts from a puncture wound as the unfortunate creature receives three prongs in the head.
"Guys!" Dean steps back, disappearing into the shadows.
A grey mist gathers across the overgrown field outside the cottage, spreading towards us. Dry mouthed, I watch as a tall figure lumbers across the field, feet dragging behind. The figure approaches and the cheese in my bag has nothing on the stench emanating from the rotting corpse. A ripped plaid shirt reveals bone protruding through skin.
I don't want my bones protruding through my skin any time soon. "Okay... Time to leave."
A strangled noise emanates from the decaying mouth and I'm glad the horror hides in the dark. A close up, brightly lit version of this thing's face wouldn't help my fear factor right now.
Ewan spins around. "Where did the Assassin go?"
"Stealthed."
I edge towards Ewan as tingling begins in my shoulder coursing along my arm and to my wrist. A small ball of fire forms in my hand, and I'm transfixed by the perfect sphere - and lack of third degree burns.
Skip Morris
Farmer (well, he was)
Level 2
Undead
Aggressive
Difficulty level: High
HP 20
The creature lurches at Ewan, blackened hands reaching for his weapon. A fireball hits the side of his head as the magic leaves my hand, but Skip continues to advance.
"I think this guy wants his gardening fork back," I say.
"Shit!" Ewan drops the fork and backs up. He outstretches an arm and a ball of white light forms in his hand to match the way my fireballs do. His spell crashes from above, as if dropped from the night sky, and hits Skip in the arm.
"Dean!" I call as the creature gains on us.
The undead farmer lunges at me and I sidestep him. He falls towards Ewan and before he has a chance to move, Skip sinks his teeth into Ewan's arm and knocks him to the floor.
Something surges inside at the sight of Ewan's skin torn to his flesh; not only terror for my own life but for this stranger who could be easily be me. The energy builds in my arm again, the length of time the tingling takes to build to a rushing power frustrates me.
Dear Game Gods, an instacast spell next level, please...
Dean's figure emerges from the shadows, his claw instantaneously ripping the creatures skin with as much force as Skip did Ewan's. The creature drops his attention to Ewan and me, and dull eyes turn to Dean. My fireball lights the surroundings again as it hits the creature's chest.
The undead farmer shifts his focus to me and I stumble back. Ewan's no use, holding one arm with another frozen in shock. I can't look. Don't want to see the injury. Blood and gore in game is all good, but I've never been a horror fan. Right now, I'm an extra in an episode of The Walking Dead.
Dean continues side-stepping and slashing the creature, a criss cross of jagged lines on the flesh, oozing black fluid. Skip suddenly reaches for Dean's arm and he yells as the monster twists it around. My spell scorches Skip's hand and the creature drops his grip with a guttural yowl.
"We should run," says Dean.
"We can't leave him." I incline my head to where Ewan's dragged himself to rest against a tree trunk, face contorted with pain.
"Can you walk, man?" calls Dean, ducking another blow from Skip.
Ewan doesn't respond with anything but the swearing from behind his clenched teeth.
One thought skitters across my mind: if I die here, is my real life over too?
"Hey, zombie asshole!" calls a female voice. Footsteps thud across the forest floor behind, branches cracking. Seconds later, the delightfully undead Skip's face meets a wooden shield with a bone-crunching result. He howls and my casting stops in surprise.
A girl with a long blonde braid, holding a short sword and battered shield launches her tall figure at Skip, goading him on as she dodges attacks.
Zara
Paladin
Level 3
Abilities: Crush
Spells: Holy Bind
Strength + 4
HP 30
"Stop gawking and kill it already, Mage," she snaps at me.
"Right." The situation I'm in fades to nothing but survival, thoughts and feelings muted as I summon fireball after fireball as the three of us wear down the creature. As his body crashes to the floor my watch chimes.
Level 2
HP + 5
Mana + 5
New ability: Fire Storm
Conjures a storm cloud which rains fire on all enemies within five yards. Cast time 5 seconds.
The chime repeats around me, for Dean and the semi-conscious Ewan, then silence. My breath comes in short bursts, chest aching, but unscathed. Zara bends down and wipes her ichor stained sword on Skip's ragged shirt. Stony faced, she rifles through his pockets and pulls out several items.
Square of cloth (crusty, possibly handkerchief)
Handful of pebbles
A gold band:
Skip's Wedding Ring
+ 2 Wisdom
"Hmm. No point me having this." She tosses the item in my direction and almost misses my outstretched hands.
"His boots look okay, but I have better." She unlaces them and yanks one off Skip's foot. "Help me," she says to Dean. "They stats are good for you."
Skip's Favorite Boots
+2 Agility
While they're busy stripping poor Skip of his otherworldly possessions, I crouch down next to Ewan and touch his arm. He snaps his eyes open in his pale, perspiring face and cradles his arm.
Ewan
Diseased
- 2 Stamina
Zombie saliva. Leeches 2 health per second.
I turn to Dean sitting on the floor, lacing up the light leather boots, and at Zara tossing a coin in the air, and catching.
"I think he's dying. We don't have any healing spells."
"I do, used it on myself. Weak but might work on him." She stands says nonchalantly and straightens. "Besides, we can't let the healer die."
This gets worse. Fantastic I'm not on my own, but somebody or something threw together a tank, a healer and two DPS. And I'm willing to bet that the 'something' isn't fate. The stars push through the clouds above, full moon illuminating the scene around me. I could cope with spiders and Ewan's rudeness, but he's dying in front of my eyes.
And something tried to kill me.
I focus on dampening down the panic as Zara leans over Ewan. She places a hand on his forehead. "You're gonna be okay."
"It fucking hurts," he mumbles and holds out his arm; his skin continues to blacken.
I tear open my bag and pull out the small bottle I looted earlier and uncork it with my teeth. "Here."
Ewan gulps back the liquid and his pained face softens as the black dissipates from his skin. I hand him the cheese too and this time there's no protest over the stench.
"We need to find a town. I'm not staying out here all night again," says Zara.
"Again?"
"Yeah, again. Help him up." Zara turns and grabs her sword, sheathing it in a belt against her thick leather pants. She grabs the shield and takes a hard look at us. "Let's go before Mrs Zombie appears."