“Surely not.”

Esko hefted the spear on his shoulder and lodged it between my feet, the point wedged between the floorboards.

“They’re real, touch the spear.”

“I think I’ll get tetanus.”

He yanked it out, inspected the once-sharp tip with a humph, then grabbed a rag and a bottle of clear liquid. The rag was soaked, the spear was scrubbed, and it came back to me slightly less rusty. Not much less, but there was a glimmer.

“I’m not gunna turn you into a Spartan General, but you’ll need to know the basics. You could have all the Strength or Agility in the world, but if you don’t know how to use it, you won’t hurt a fly.”

“I don’t even have a proper spear yet. Mine snapped the moment I spawned.”

“That’ll change soon enough,” Dale chipped in. “If you’re half as tenacious as your mother, you’re bound to do well. Buying a spear shouldn’t be too hard.”

I debated for a moment, not forgetting how bonkers the current situation was. It was fast approaching darkness, and I was in a metal shack deep in the forest.

“Are you sure this is the hard work I need to be putting in? I’ll be hours behind everyone else, maybe days by the time I know what I’m doing.”

“If you do it right, you could be months behind and you’d still whoop ass in a fight. Real B&B is as much about technique and skill as it is powerful items and ancient enchantments.”

I was sceptical, but warming to the idea. As far as I could tell, I’d be hard-fought to find any ‘ancient enchantments’ in Bill’s Yard. The part I was struggling with was coming out here, flinging around a rusty spear for a while, then returning home like it was a reasonable way to spend an occasional afternoon. Annette would tear me to bits if she took one look at Esko.

“How often would I train?” I asked.

Dale rubbed his hands together, happy to see that I was considering the proposition.

“Twice a week,” Esko replied. “I’ll admit that we shouldn’t take too much time from learning the game itself. You’ll be wanting to scrounge up some krad to mend that spear you talked about, too.”

“Or buy a new one,” Dale reminded us.

Looking between them, both were nodding vigorously. Esko could’ve entered a contest with those puppy-dog eyes.

I nodded, and it was settled, as ludicrous as it was. Starting the next week, I’d machete my way out to Esko’s for lessons on Tuesday and Friday afternoons, like some kind of Spartan boot camp.

I was also under strict instructions to find myself a shield and javelin. Dale insisted that there’d be a weapons shop or something rudimentary in the alleys of Bill’s Yard, and I’d do well to pick up some quests that rewarded me with krad.

“Alternatively, you can beat a couple monsters over the head with your half-spear and sell their valuable bits,” he said.

That didn’t sound too promising, unless I tagged along with a group. I’d benefit from finding some likeminded players, but it wasn’t worth it at this stage; most of the people I saw that day would be gone in a couple months.

Plus, I was awful at making friends. There was a reason I’d stuck with Joey, Annette and Duri for my whole life.

“I reckon I’ll try shopping around for some quests. On that topic, what do you know about ‘Friendship’?” I asked.

“In-game or out?”

“In, you dork.”

“Just messin. It’s what you’d expect — Friendship is a measure of how much NPCs like you, or at least how much they respect you. There’re some real grouches that will act like they hate your guts, but when you ask for a quest they’ll turn around and offer you all sorts of stuff.”

The Friendship reward on the ‘Liberate the Yard’ quest was sounding more valuable now. I liked the sound of ‘all sorts of stuff.’

“And if I got, say, fifty Friendship with everyone in Bill’s Yard, would that amount to much?”

“If you got fifty Friendship with the whole town, you’d have to start wearing a crown and letting them call you ‘Your Grace’.”

“Fifty is that much?”

“Individually, it’s not heaps. Think of it like school though — if absolutely everyone there thinks you’re a decent bloke, you’re gunna be pretty popular. You might not be at the top of everyone’s sleepover lists, but you’d be a damn good candidate for school captain.”

All in all, treating the NPCs like they were more than just dirt on your shoe was a good plan. It was natural to me, but apparently not for everyone. I couldn’t help picturing myself parading down the main street adorned with garlands, NPCs providing fanfare from their porches. Players like the guy from yesterday would drop their jaws and wonder what dungeon I’d conquered or boss I’d slain.

That’d teach ‘em.

We left Esko to his…Esko things, and started our trek, which was a nightmare. Neither of us had a flashlight — aside from my Yurt screen on full brightness — and if we thought the bugs were bad before, they were a calamity now. The constant ‘eeeee’ of swarming mosquitoes bombarded us from all sides, the forest floor became a maze of stumps to stub our toes on, and I was pretty sure we were lost.

Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

Eventually, through sheer luck, we found a road.

It wasn’t the one we came in from, but it was better than the muddy, sticky existence of the last half hour. We trudged along, puffing.

“Now, Ollie, I hate to ask this of you, but you can’t tell Emily about our arrangement with Esko.”

Dale only ever called Mom ‘Em,’ so it was strange to hear him say her proper name.

“She’s not a huge fan of his,” he continued, “so I realise I’ve kind of put you in a tough spot. Esko’s great though, and the only capable [Hoplite] I know in Selic.”

“I see. You really should’ve asked me about this, you know. It’s literally my very first day in B&B. I might not even like [Hoplite] in two weeks' time, plus I’ve got a lot on my plate.”

We walked along for a bit, and Dale nodded.

“Yeah, didn’t think of that too much. Sorry, I just know you wanna do well, and when you said you’d chosen [Hoplite] the alarm bells just went off.”

“It’s all good. You’ve earned a whole lot of slack after the AT-2000 stunt.”

He barked out an abrupt laugh but didn’t launch into any more detail. I decided that if he wanted to be my ‘coach’ of sorts, he’d have to give me at least a trickle of background on himself. His lore was extremely undefined so far.

“So how did you win it?” I tried. “I’m still hoping I never see one of those dragons, because you haven’t told me about its weakness yet.”

“Ahhhh you know. Bit of luck, I suppose.”

“I don’t believe that for a second. Are you like, famous or something? What’s the go?”

For this level of secrecy, he had to be either a famous B&B player, or a notorious criminal. I was hoping for the former.

“I’ll tell you about the dragon, okay? That’s enough for now.”

“For now,” I agreed. The guy drove a hard bargain.

“Do you remember what it looked like? The inferno came from its jaws and chest, yeah?”

“Mhm. Both at the same time.”

“Right. In the real game, that’s called a [Dreadmaw]. Some people tame them, and I’ve seen a couple attempts at farming them, because the heat it produces in its belly creates this kind of plasma goop that is really useful as an enchanting ingredient. Anyway, if you manage to plug the flames from its chest, it’ll go down like a bag of cement.”

“That’s all?”

“That’s all.”

“So what killed you?”

“Well, after a [Dreadmaw] goes down, they tend to explode from all the pent-up energy. I might’ve forgotten about that bit.”

“But how the hell did you manage to plug the hole? Was there a giant bow laying around?”

“Just threw my sword at the right time. I’ve had some practice, and the Strength on that character was mental.”

I could imagine the scene in all its absurdity. Dale, of all people, facing down the monstrous [Dreadmaw] and performing the sickest trick-shot of all time. If it were a movie, his character would deliver some bullcrap line about bravery and doing what must be done, then the camera would switch perspectives to the village he’d saved as a monumental boom! rang out in the distance.

Chills.

“That’s pretty fucking dope, man.”

He looked across at me, realised I was being genuine, and smiled.

“Thanks, Ollie.”

###

“Where the hell have you two been!” Mom yelled. “I was arranging a frickin search party!”

Dale and I giggled like schoolboys who’d been caught drawing crude images in class. Mom didn’t find it entertaining, which kind of made it funnier.

“It was a nice night for a walk! Ollie had a lot of B&B questions, so I suggested we do a couple extra loops. We were good, I swear.”

I nodded furiously and left the hoop-jumping to Dale.

Mom simmered down now that we were home safe. I’d had my Yurt on me, yet she didn’t message me even once, so she couldn’t have been too concerned. Dale poked around in the fridge for one of his favourite blue and yellow beers, and I gave Mom a thumbs up and went to my room.

I thought I should check in with the gang.

[How’d y’all go today? Learn much?]

Duri replied first.

[Too much. Some smartass managed to make these pamphlets with a heap of beginner stuff on them. Definitely just got the info from his parents, but he was selling them for 50 krad each. Made a killing.]

[And did you get one?]

[Yeah, that’s where all the learning came from. Annette’s jumping in and out repeatedly to write it all down in real-life. We’ll get you one.]

[Dope, thanks.]

We talked for a while longer, and Annette joined once she’d finishing scribing. We were all exhausted, and after discussing the classes we’d selected and the oddities of Bill’s Yard compared to the Fields, the chat slowly died down to the occasional message about something Duri had found in the news. The guy was voracious for content now that the B&B News had opened its arms to him.

We didn’t hear from Joey all night, until a notification appeared in the group chat just before I went to brush my teeth. It was an automated message from the app.

‘Joey Abermeyer has left the group.’

The flood of messages resumed.

D: [Ummm, what?]

A: [Calling him rn]

O: [Any luck?]

A: [Not picking up…]

If it hadn’t been a few minutes from midnight, I might’ve gone to his house and heard the story straight from the horse’s mouth. Then again, if he hadn’t picked up Annette’s call, the door might not have opened for me.

It wasn’t like Joey to be so abrupt, even during a rare hissy fit. And we weren’t spamming the chat that seriously. The incident showed all the signs of Joey’s dad exerting his influence.

O: [Did you guys find Joey in the Fields today?]

A: [Just that once when I told you he was geared up big-time. Didn’t stop to chat.]

D: [I didn’t]

For the first time since immersing — not that it had been long — I was really annoyed at being spawned in Bill’s Yard. We were one day into our beginner year and our friend-group was already stumbling. If I’d just been there, if that stupid Blast Off guild hadn’t cheated like I knew they must’ve, I could have done something.

The urge to break out my laptop and resume my investigation was overpowering, but I held back. I was exhausted, Mom would be furious, and with fighting lessons jostling their way into my calendar, there was just too much on my plate.

Thanks, Dale.

I went to bed in a huff, fluffing my pillow with more ferocity than it deserved. It supported me every night, and in return I beat the crap out of it.

The first couple hours were spent tossing and turning, making up situations in my head where I confronted Joey’s dad and said just the right things to make him cut the bullshit. I crafted retorts, prepared to expose the loopholes in his arguments, and basically just avoided my own problems.

Around two-thirty, as I ran out of issues to mull over, I slept.

If only I’d known that that day had been one of the easiest of my B&B career.