Call me a weakling, but I didn’t think I was ready to ‘Liberate the Yard’ just yet. Aside from not knowing what it needed liberating from, I was not fit to perform said liberation. I had two halves of a crappy spear and no experience wielding it.

It was probably fine — a few hundred thousand players would flow through the Yard over the next few days, and one of them would undoubtedly receive the same quest. I could leave the hero work to them.

But then again, 4000 EXP.

The other rewards I could give or take. It would be nice if the increased ‘Friendship’ stopped folks from evacuating their porches when I walked by, and a Title was rather funky.

I’d let Bill keep his sunhat — the built up sweat in that bad-boy could probably overflow the Hoover Dam.

Bill disappeared inside his barn, waving me off with a lazy flourish of his wrist. He was quick to drop the bombshell quest on me, and even faster leaving it in my hands. I suppose it felt good to get off his own back.

I sent Annette a message.

[How do I disconnect?]

I waited for five minutes, then messaged again.

[Please don’t leave me in here :( Dinner’s getting cold.]

A message came flinging back.

[Sorry! Busy as. Same as the triangle thing for messaging, but a circle.]

[You’re the best, I owe you big time.]

[You do.]

I took a deep breath and tried to exit the game. A screen arose, asking if I really meant to do such a thing.

‘Think about the EXP you’re missing out on!’ It seemed to say.

Fortunately, I had enough self-control to commit. I braced for the headache just in case, but this time it was a lot more enjoyable. Just a slight pull and a feeling like gravity had looked the other way for a second.

Disorientation flooded in as my first game session ended. I eased my neck from its crooked position, slowly easing out the ache that had developed while I’d been immersed. Even the most advanced Pods still had their comfort issues.

Getting out of the Pod felt like leaving your bed after the hardest of naps. All that was missing was the puddle of drool on the pillow and the existential dread of knowing that you can’t just continue napping.

I pulled myself to my feet and stumbled downstairs. The extra Agility on my [Hoplite] made real-life feel slow and unstable.

Can’t imagine how Mom feels. Her character is built for Agility.

The house was quiet, and still, but my mind raced. I had so many questions to ask that they all fumbled over each other in my head, battling to be resolved at once. I did my best to set them in order.

Mom and Dale were downstairs playing cards. I couldn’t tell which game, but it looked like one of those speed-based ones that always get violent.

“Hullo!” I called, trying to keep the general unsteadiness from my voice.

“There he is! My protégée! How was it?” Mum asked. She was beating Dale without looking.

“Almost don’t know where to start. I picked [Hoplite], is that alright?”

Dale perked up. “If it resonated with you, then that’s the way to go. No class is necessarily better than any other.”

“What about [Jester]?”

“Ha! Even [Jester], yep,” he chuckled.

Mom got up and pulled a tray of spring rolls out of the oven. A bit of oily goodness was exactly what I needed.

“Simple dinner, hope that’s alright. Dale whipped up some butter chicken, too.”

“Perfect. I skipped lunch and I’m starving.”

I did justice to my hunger, shovelling down an armful of rolls and a few scoops of Dale’s creation.

“I think I’ll go for a walk. Probably should do a bit of exercise here and there even though it feels like I’ve been active all day.”

Dale patted his protruding belly and mumbled assent. “Mind if I come?”

If you’d asked me two weeks ago if I’d be keen to go on a late-evening stroll with my mom’s deadbeat boyfriend, I’d have vehemently declined. But now, times had changed. Dale had revealed himself as a great deal more than a deadbeat, and instead of reluctance, I was interested.

And a little surprised. His large belly hadn’t come about from over-exertion.

“Sure. That’d be cool.”

“Great, lemme fish around and see if I have runners.”

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Mum raised her eyebrows but stayed quiet. I think she knew there were no runners to be found.

I felt the tug of the AT-2000 whispering to me, begging me to hop back in and play for a while after my walk. It was hard to ignore, just imagining the thousands of other players doing that little bit extra, steadily racking up more and more EXP and leaving me in the dust.

Snap out of it. The worst thing I could do on my first day was abandon my health. Annette had told me not to burn out, and I’d naively told her that I’d just grind it out and suffer through the consequences.

I realised now that my brazenness was dangerous. If I didn’t look after myself both physically and mentally, I wouldn’t even make it a month, let alone a year.

Dale came down the stairs looking like a game-show contestant. A bright blue headband crossed his forehead, two wristbands adorned his forearms, and an exercise shirt did its very best to cover all that needed covering. The enthusiasm was there, the execution needed work.

“Away we gooo!” he called, rushing out the door.

I gave Mom a questioning smile, and she just shrugged her shoulders and shooed me away. Dale was down the driveway by the time I shut the door behind me, beckoning to me to hurry.

“Come on, Ollie, places to go, people to see!”

People to see?

I caught up and we set off along the road at a trot. We angled away from the busier sections of town, instead heading off into the wilderness. Dale seemed to know where he was going, so I let him lead.

“Any reason why [Hoplite] jumped out at you?” he asked.

“Hmmm. I liked the concept of being primarily close-range, but also having medium-range options.”

“Yep, yep, gotcha. I’ve seen some ridiculous builds from the few [Hoplites] I’ve worked with. One guy completely abandoned his spear and spent all his money and time working on his throwing javelin. His only role in the guild was initiating boss fights, and boy oh boy it was a sight to see.”

I tried to picture such a scene. That kind of large-scale teamwork was every B&B graduate’s dream.

“I didn’t spawn with a javelin or shield. Is that normal?”

“Yeah, yeah, no problem. In fact, the real hoplites didn’t even have javelins. Their secondary weapon was a short sword called a xiphos. B&B isn’t always historically accurate.”

“Okay, so I gotta work a bit harder and buy some gear.”

“Mhm.”

We veered off onto a side trail. Leafy trees held their vibrant leaves overhead, a living archway protecting us from the roving eye of the encroaching moonlight. The air grew heavy, and damp soil clumped on my shoes and flicked up from Dale’s as he strode along in front of me. He was making good time for a self-confessed couch potato, like he was especially eager to get wherever we were going.

“I hope you’ve got a compass,” I said. “There’s no way I’m getting us out of this jungle.”

“Not long now. I’ll admit it’s been a while since I’ve seen Esko. Hope he still lives here.”

Esko?

“Dale, I don’t think anyone lives out here. I’ve been in the area my whole life and I have no clue where we are.”

As kids, Joey and I had ventured into the forest’s depths and ended up in a crying mess before Joey’s dad rescued us. It was maybe thirty minutes of misadventure, but for two eight-year-olds it could’ve been a lifetime.

After fifteen minutes of navigating coarse shrubbery and rotten undergrowth the greenery thinned, and a rusted shack of corrugated iron and wooden planks materialised from the scenery. It took me a while to notice it because the rust was so brown, like it had decided that one layer of the scaly stuff wasn’t enough.

If there was such a thing as an ‘Esko’ here, they wouldn’t have electricity or running water. Or much else for that matter.

“Dale, how do you eve—”

“Uh!” he interjected, holding a finger to his mouth in a ‘shush’. “Gunna surprise him.”

Trudging through the forest had made enough noise to raise the dead, but I didn’t mention it. Instead, I followed behind at a safe pace, just in case a rabid jungle-man leapt from a tree and captured Dale for dinner.

He tip-toed his way across a mangled wooden bridge and steadied himself before the door. It was just a rectangular piece of corrugated iron that had been cut from the wall with a couple hinges slapped on.

All at once, he went wild. He yelped at the top of his lungs and busted into the shack, jumping around and waving his arms as he disappeared into its echoing depths. A different voice squealed, and the swearing began, evidence of human life out here in the wilderness. Dale waved me in once it died down, a grin still plastered across his face.

I was seeing sides to this guy that I’d never known about. It was hilarious, but strange, like finding out you were right-handed after living your life with your left.

Esko’s house was a mess, and its sole occupant blended in nicely. He wore ragged trousers with the zip down since they were about three sizes too small. His shirt was closer to a scarf, showing his bony ribs and scrawny arms.

Overall, the experience was more fantastical than anything I’d seen that day in B&B. Any game developer with writer’s block — or developer’s block — could come here for inspiration. Esko could be the alpha version of a new humanoid-type monster.

Okay, that’s a tad cruel. He’s just a guy.

“Esko, this is Ollie, my…girlfriend’s son. Ollie, this is Esko, a phenomenal [Hoplite].”

“Awww, plenty of folks better than me,” Esko replied. A sheepish grin covered his mud-stained face.

“Perhaps, but they’re all dead.”

Dale pulled two chairs from a pile of junk by the wall. He brushed off what could be brushed, then set them down next to Esko.

“I’ve got a request for you, and you’re allowed to say no.”

“Awww, you know I’d never say no to you, Dale. After Balatari Falls, how could I?”

Dale chuckled, and I pretended I knew what he was talking about. Yet another query to add to the list.

“I want you to train Ollie.”

I choked on my saliva, and immediately opened my mouth to take back Dale’s request. There was no way I could take time out of my day to ‘train’ with Esko, regardless of how good he once was.

“Dale, I can’t ask that of Esko. He’s a very busy ma—”

“Absolutely!” Esko exclaimed. “Ollie, I’ll whip you into shape in no time. I tell ya, the monsters in the Elthen Fields won’t know what hit them.”

“I didn’t get into the Fields. I got Bill’s Yard.”

“Oof.”

“Yeah. It’s fine if you can’t help…I’ll manage.”

He waved his hands about, nearly hopping out of his chair.

“No! No, that’s not what I meant. The place you spawned doesn’t matter, I’ll be teaching you how to use your equipment, not how to conquer the world. Dale can do that instead, I’m sure.”

Dale glanced my way, trying to gauge my reaction. I probably didn’t look too comfortable, partly because he’d thrown me into the situation without consulting first, and also because something was wriggling under my butt.

“Esko, what do you mean by ‘using my equipment’? You can’t come into Bill’s Yard, and I can’t leave. I don’t see how you’re supposed to train me.”

At that, he rose, flashing a mischievous grin. He stepped over pieces of scrap metal and some cooking equipment, then reached down and yanked out an armful of goodies.

He turned around, brandishing a set of items that no one should be able to find buried in their living room.

A spear, a shield, and a javelin.