“-ck?!” Cassie swore. “What the hell does that mean?! What apocalypse?”

The window didn't change.

Welcome to the world of Tiavalis

The Apocalypse will occur in: 62 days

“Help,” Cassie tried. “Options. Menu.”

At the word “menu”, a new window sprang up. It was a game menu like any other Cassie had seen, with tabs for character profile, skills, achievements, map, and so on. And right at the end was a tab that said ‘World Codex’.

“Codex,” Cassie snapped. The window changed to show a textbox with a search bar.

Enter a keyword to search the World Codex

“Apocalypse,” Cassie tried.

Days to Apocalypse: 62

You do not have permission to view this entry. Please contact your administrator to gain the necessary permission.

“What is the point of offering me a new life and then dropping me in a world that’s going to end in two months?!” she shouted.

Keyword not recognised. Please try again.

Cassie swore loudly and with abandon till she had vented her rage. “Close menu,” she said through clenched teeth. She was going to find whoever had programmed this stupid thing. And she was going to wring their necks.

“It’s okay,” she said to herself. “Just breathe, Cassie. You can figure this out.” She wished, not for the first time, that Mr Truffles had been transported with her. Not that he would have been much use in this situation, but she could do with someone to talk to.

She took in her surroundings. It was a familiar pastoral scene. A pasture of some kind, sheep grazing in the distance, stone walls marking the boundaries. She could almost believe that she was still on Earth. The sky was a rich blue, either early morning or late evening. Hopefully the former. Beyond the wall she could see a dirt track road. On her left, it led to the edge of a woodland. On her right, towards what appeared to be a small village.

Forest, or civilization? Her powers were geared towards the forest. She was eager to try out her new Verdant Call ability. But that could come later. First she needed to figure out what this ‘apocalypse’ was all about. And then she had to figure out how to exit this stupid game world before it went up in smoke.

She hopped over the wall and set off towards the village.

----------------------------------------

Alystair sat at his desk and pored over the brown paper folder. Lady Tiamat and the Chancellor had picked out an exact character build for each member of the team. Everything from race and abilities to character progression and class choices was listed on the sheets in front of him.

Honestly, it could have been worse. He had asked for a sociable race and a build with high social skills to complement his personality. He’d been hoping for a Halfling or Elf avatar who could gain class levels in Bard or Diplomat. What he got was as far from that as possible, while still fulfilling his criteria.

“What have they landed you with?” Alystair turned and saw Nessa. She gave him a weary smile and held out a paper cup. Alystair accepted the coffee gratefully. He’d had a few hours of rest while Lady Tiamat made her preparations. But there wasn’t enough time to go home and come back so he’d ended up sleeping on the couch in the junior common room. It had not made for a comfortable night.

“Orc Bone Reader,” he told Nessa. “It’s not too bad. Spirit-based magic user of the shaman type. At lower levels you get a bonus to interactions with other orcs. And the scrying spells should help us locate the humans. But it doesn’t have any useful combat magic, so I’ll be relegated to support roles or strength-based attacks in a fight.”

Nessa flopped down onto the chair next to him and tossed her own folder on the desk. “Fancy a swap?”

Alystair took the folder and flicked through. He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Pale Elf Assassin.” He looked up at Nessa over the top of the folder. She returned the gaze without much hope. “I think I’m good,” Alystair said, putting the folder back on the desk. “Pale Elf is an interesting choice though. It’ll be tricky though? They’re not exactly a friendly race so you’d find interactions with other people quite difficult.”

“Yeah, they’re right bastards, I know,” Nessa agreed. “But you can’t argue with their abilities. If we can’t defeat the humans in open combat, a Pale Elf assassin is our next best chance.” She sighed. “I already asked the other two. Seems like everyone else is happy with their choices.”

“You didn’t want to be the assassin?” Alystair asked.

“I didn’t want to come at all,” Nessa said. She gave a sad smile. “But I was told I had to.” Alystair gave her a curious look. There hadn’t exactly been a race to volunteer for this team, but he could think of better candidates for the job than a Reality Engineering researcher.

“I was the one who detected the invasion,” Nessa explained. “I was messing with the temporal engine, slowing the simulation down so I could… do some real time observations. That’s when I spotted the discrepancy.”

Alystair grimaced. The temporal engine was a delicate piece of equipment. Junior researchers were known to play with it on occasion, especially when they were bored and unsupervised. The senior staff usually pretended not to notice – mainly because they’d done the same when they were younger. But being caught in flagrante would still get you a disciplinary action from the Demiurge, even if you did detect a human invasion in the process.

“Let me guess,” Alystair said. “They told you that they wouldn’t put it on your record if you volunteered to go into the sim?”

“That’s about what it was,” Nessa said quietly, staring down at her own folder.

They sat in silence for a bit. “Why did you do it?” Alystair asked finally. Nessa’s shoulders stiffened at the question and he quickly added “If you don’t mind me asking?”

Nessa shrugged. “No reason really. You know how it gets on the night shifts. Thought I’d look in on the Orc wrestling pits. They’re always pretty entertaining.”

“Ah. Right,” It wasn’t a very convincing answer. But it didn’t seem like he was going to get anywhere by prying. “So what do you think of the plan?” he asked, changing the subject.

Nessa sighed. “What’s that thing the Chancellor said? No plan survives first contact with humanity?”

“I think she said ‘first contact with the Humanities’,” Alystair joked. “We are a fairly erratic department though, so I can’t say she’s wrong.”

Nessa snorted with laughter. “No, I can’t say she is.” She sat up in her chair. “Honestly, I’m not sure how we’re meant to find these humans though. It seems like we’re searching for a needle in a haystack. They could be anywhere in Tiavalis. They could have ended up somewhere in the wilderness even.”

Alystair smiled. “That’s the thing they teach us about humans,” he said. “Humans seek out civilization in every new world they come to. Sooner or later, they end up in one of the big cities on the continent. And once they do, they find a way to mess things up. We just need to follow the screaming.”

----------------------------------------

The sky was darker now than when Cassie set off towards the village. It had definitely been evening when she had arrived. As she walked, Cassie realised that the village wasn’t as far as she had first thought. It was just very small. The houses were only about seven feet high; the people only three.

“Halflings,” Cassie said to herself. They looked exactly like the Hobbits from Lord of the Rings. Just without the copyright infringement. And just like the Hobbits of the Shire, they stared at her with suspicion as she passed their neatly tended gardens and their miniature houses. Cassie drew her cloak around herself, suddenly feeling very self conscious.

The village was laid out around a central village green. The only building in the village more than five feet tall was a white inn with brown beams criss-crossing the facade. The rather grotesque sign affixed to the front of the building showed a large troll-like creature biting into a green gourd with the words “The Marrow-Eater” emblazoned below it.

Cassie walked over to it. At least she would have shelter for the night. It was a good thing she hadn’t gone into the woods instead. She didn’t know if Tiavalis had monsters infesting its forests but she wasn’t too keen to find out first hand.

The inn was bustling with life. Halflings of all ages sat drinking, laughing, and generally having a good time. The interior was cosy, and split into two distinct halves. The first was on a raised platform with smaller, well crafted furniture, obviously meant for halflings. It was packed to bursting with happy customers. The other half of the room was filled with human-sized furniture and was empty of people. Some tables straddled the divide, presumably so halflings and taller folk could sit and eat together.

Cassie drew several curious glances as she entered, but the halflings here seemed far too preoccupied with their dinner to pay her much mind. Cassie tried her best to look like she knew what she was doing, and headed for the bar.

The young halfling behind the bar greeted her with a grin as she approached. “Hello stranger.” she said. “Don’t see many of your kind this far from the city. What’ll ye have? I’m afraid we don’t have any orcish wine but our own grape is quite good, though I say so myself.”

“Orcish wine?” Cassie said, confused.

The halfling’s smile faltered. “I’m sorry. I meant no offence. I just thought you would be travelling from the West?”

Cassie shook her head. She needed to get a grip on how this world worked, and quickly. “I’m sorry,” she said. “No offence taken. It’s just… I’m afraid I was attacked by bandits on the road and I must have taken a blow to the head because I can’t remember anything about the last couple of days.” It was a plausible lie, she expected. Bandits were common enough in any world, fantasy or otherwise. And it might excuse some of the gaps in her knowledge till she got a handle on things.

The bartender looked at her sympathetically. “That’s terrible! What’s the point of having the Pale Guard around if people are being attacked in the street?” She shook her head. “Did they take your belongings? Were you travelling alone?”

“Uhm… I don’t remember,” Cassie said. It was a good point. She hadn’t actually checked what items she had with her. She patted herself down and found a small coin-purse tied to her waist inside her cloak. She opened it and found a handful of silver inside. “I’ve got ten silver coins,” she said. “How much does that buy me?”

“Don’t spend it all,” the halfling said. “You never know when you might need a spare coin in these parts. But for four silver I can give you board and food for the night. We don’t get many tall folk passing through. But I think I can get one of the rooms ready for you.”

Cassie considered it. Nearly half of her spending money for a night’s rest. But she did need to get the lay of the land. She put four of the coins on the table where the halfling snatched them up and replaced them with a bowl of soup, cold ham, a loaf of bread, and a large goblet full of a deep purple wine.

Cassie took a sip from the goblet. It was delicious! She’d always hated wine but this drink was warm and summery, as though it had been watered down with lemonade. “So,” she said, “do you have an Adventurers’ guild in town? Something like that?”

The halfling frowned. “Adventurers’ guild? That’s a new one to me. Never heard of adventurers. Are they an orcish thing?”

Okay. So no adventurers. “I guess they must be,” Cassie said. “But then who do you call if you need to do any dangerous jobs? Like if you had monsters in the village? Or giant rats in the cellar?”

“Why would there be giant rats in my cellar?” the halfling asked. Her look of confusion deepened. “And monsters? I’d heard that the Orc Lands were a terrible place but I didn’t know they had monsters roaming their streets.” She drummed her fingers on the bar. “I guess if we had anything like that though, we’d just call the Pale Legion.”

“Is that like a mercenary company?” Cassie asked. “Do they have a place in the village?”

The look of confusion on the halfling’s face was replaced with a strange expression. Like growing uncertainty regarding her customer’s state of mind. “I can’t say that I do.” She hesitated, then lowered her voice. “Are you… in some kind of trouble dear?”

Cassie bit her lip, wondering how much to say. “I don’t remember much about what led me here,” she said finally, “but I remember being worried about a prophecy of some kind. Something about impending doom. Have you…” She stopped as she saw the halfling’s expression. “Like I say, I don’t remember much,” she finished lamely.

The bartender tried to work her face into a reassuring smile. “That’s okay, dear. Why don’t you eat up. I have other customers to attend to.” With that, she slid off towards the halfling section of the bar. Cassie grimaced. That could have gone better.

The meal was delicious. The soup was thick and full of vegetables. The bread was fresh and crisp. It was simple fare, but filling and healthy. She couldn’t remember the last time she had eaten this well. She was so engrossed in the meal that she didn’t notice the quiet whispering which spread from the bar and around the room to the rest of the halflings. Nor did she notice how the room emptied out slowly till only a few stout halflings remained, casting sidelong glances at her over their cups.

She only realised something had changed when the two elves sat down on the stools next to her, one on either side. The one on her right was female, wearing a dark cloak and brown leather armour, much better made than Cassie’s own. The one on her left was male, and dressed similarly but with more ornate gear. They were both entirely unlike the graceful, benevolent creatures she knew from movies and books.

They had the same elfin features – straight hair, pointed ears, athletic builds – but their faces were unnerving. Their hair was ghostly white and their skin so thin and translucent that she could almost see the dark web of veins that ran under the surface. Even their irises were white, with their pupils showing up as pinpoint black dots against a milky globe.

At first Cassie thought they might be cambions like her, but they didn’t have horns like she did. Their armour was emblazoned with a strange symbol and she guessed it was some kind of uniform. The Pale Legion? They certainly fit the name.

They looked at Cassie with open dislike. Cassie looked between them, then around the inn, noticing for the first time that it was almost empty of halflings. The bartender stood off to the other end of the bar, shooting nervous glances at her.

“Good evening stranger,” the elf on her left said. “May I enquire as to your name?” His voice was high pitched and discordant.

“I don’t want any trouble,” Cassie said warily. “I’ve had enough of that already.”

“Aye, so we hear,” the elf said gravely. “With bandits on the West road, was it?”

“I don’t know the name of the road, but yes.”

“Quite.” There was nothing happy about his wolfish grin. “Except, you see, we’ve had every road in and out of this village guarded for the last few days. And none of our sentries reported seeing a demonspawn walk in.” He spat the word ‘demonspawn’ but his face remained expressionless, like a porcelain mask. “And now I hear you’re spreading stories about bandits and giant rats and prophecies of impending doom.”

“Look,” Cassie said, raising both her hands in a gesture of peace and rising slowly from her seat. “I really don’t want any trouble. Like I said, I think I’ve hurt myself and I can’t remember how I got here. But I see I’m not welcome so I’ll be-”

She felt a strong hand on her shoulder forcing her back down onto her stool. “I’m afraid you will have to bear our company for a little longer,” the elf said. He stood up and reached into his cloak, pulling out a pair of wrought iron manacles. “I, Captain Garrik of the Pale Legion, hereby arrest you in the Queen’s name, on suspicion of espionage and consorting with demons.” He looked at her impassively. “Perhaps your premonition of impending doom was right after all, demon. You should have been more careful.”

----------------------------------------

“Be careful with that,” Lady Tiamat snapped. Alystair snapped to attention, embarrassed at being told off. He’d never seen modern immersion pods before. It wasn’t really his field of study, but it was fascinating all the same. They looked nothing like the ancient relics from the Terra One experiment. They were large white cocoon-like structures. The tinted glass window on the front which revealed a small reclining seat inside. A set of tubes and wires ran through the interior.

Alystair tore his eyes away to concentrate on the last minute update Lady Tiamat was giving. His team were sitting in front of a screen where the Demiurge was briefing them on the situation. Lab attendants bustled around them, attaching electrodes all over their bodies. Alystair tried to focus on what Tiamat was saying, rather than on the fact that he was sitting five feet from Lyriel and wearing only a pair of swimming trunks. He wished he’d taken that gym membership more seriously.

“As I was saying, we’ve managed to get an up-to-date situation report on the events in Tiavalis,” Tiamat said, “for those of you who haven't kept up with world events.” She glanced at Chrom, the only outsider in the group. “The continent is controlled by two major races – the orcs and the elves. The Orc tribes still control the majority of the Western basin while the elven empire rules from the forest cities to the East. The other races lie on either side of the divide and are generally treated as members of either faction.”

Tiamat clicked a button on her remote and the screen changed to show a desolate scene with what appeared to be dying trees dotting a marshy landscape. The focal point of the scene was a small building, which appeared to have been ruined by prolonged submersion in swampy water. The architecture was old, primitive, yet ornate. Serpentine figures with humanoid torsos bustled across the scene, along with a smattering of orcs, dwarves, and other races. It was a live feed from Tiavalis, Alystair realised.

“This is the trigger point of the conflict,” Tiamat said. “Over the past few years, the elves have been trying to drain the Naga swamplands which lie in their territory to rid it of the blight from the Demon wars. While doing so, they discovered the palace of the Naga King which was thought to have been destroyed during the conflict.”

Alystair remembered the event from the war. He had been on duty that night a couple of months ago, along with a bunch of other junior researchers. He grinned at the memory. They’d slowed down the sim and taken bets on which race would come out on top. Everyone knew it would be the elves, but they hadn’t expected the orcs to be such strong contenders.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“The Orc tribes are claiming that many of their ancient treasures were lost in the swamp at the end of the war and that they should be allowed access to the site. The elves, however, are wary of what the orcs may do with any artefacts they find and are denying the request. Unfortunately for the elves, they still cannot access the swamp till the blight has been drained completely. So the two sides face something of a standstill. That’s where you come in.”

She looked at each of the team in turn, her eyes resting longer on Alystair than on the others. “We have picked avatars for you such that you could slot into both sides of the conflict.” She looked at Lyriel. “We have a Naga mage.” – then at Chrom – “A Dragonkin fighter,” – this time at Alystair – “An Orc shaman” – and finally at Nessa – “And a Pale Elf assassin.”

“I hope everything is clear. We suspect that if the humans are going to disrupt the proceedings in some way, it will be by altering events at the swamp. Therefore your objective, after you have obtained the necessary class levels, is to proceed to the nearby city of Belifor and keep watch there. Are there any questions?”

The team shook their heads. The Demiurge smiled. “Very good. Then let’s get everyone plugged in.”

----------------------------------------

Congratulations! You have gained a level!

You have reached level 2

Cassie tasted blood and spat it onto the floor. Her ears were ringing unbearably in the silence of her surroundings.

You have unlocked the following classes: - Bruiser (current level 0): 100% Choose a class option within 1 hour or a class will be assigned to you at random.

Cassie tried to focus on the blue box as it swam in and out of her vision like a bad dream. That might be because of the concussion. Or it might be because of the black eye which had been swelling up over the past half an hour. “Menu,” she rasped. “World Codex.” The search page appeared in a separate blue window in front of her. “Classes.”

Classes

Classes are a way of measuring your progression on Tiavalis. You may unlock new class levels by meeting their levelling requirements. The class then becomes available to you when you level up. If you achieve the levelling requirements for multiple classes, you may choose which class level to advance when you level up your character.

If you are unable to choose a class within 1 hour of levelling up or before you gain another level, a random class will be assigned to you from the unlocked classes. The probability of each class depends on how many levelling requirements you achieve and the rarity of the class, with rarer classes having a lower probability.

Any classes you do not choose to advance in will have their requirements reset when you gain a level in another class.

Cassie closed the menu and looked at the class selection window. It seemed she didn’t really have a choice anyway. “Bruiser,” she said. “Confirm choice.” A strange sensation passed through her, starting at the roots of her hair and passing down, running through her limbs and suffusing them with a tingling feeling like pins and needles. She gasped involuntarily. Her vision cleared. Her limbs, strained by the chains holding her up, relaxed somewhat. The bilious, metallic taste in her throat faded.

Congratulations! You have gained a level in the Bruiser class

Your Bruiser class is now at level 1

Bruiser (Class)

Rarity: Common

Type: Physical combat

You get knocked down, but you get up again. And then you go do some knocking. The Bruiser class specialises in both dealing and absorbing physical damage in hand-to-hand combat.

Levelling requirements

Any one of:

- Deal minor wounds or above in a hand-to-hand combat

- Receive minor wounds or above in a hand-to-hand combat

Cassie gave a weak laugh. She wasn’t sure being tied up and used as a punching bag by a group of elves really counted as hand-to-hand combat. She’d lost track of how long the ‘interrogation’ had lasted. A few hours, maybe? Then they’d just left her here, dangling from the chains which attached her manacles to one of the beams above, forcing her to stand upright through the night or hang painfully from her wrists.

The first light of dawn was just filtering through the slats of the roof above her. The barn had been freezing during the night, especially without her cloak and armour. Wouldn’t be much point in hitting her through half an inch of leather. Her tunic and breeches offered her no warmth though, and she was sleep deprived and exhausted, not to mention starving. She ignored the ache in her stomach and studied her new ability.

Spirit of the Underdog (Class ability)

You have the guts of a born fighter. When in melee combat, you have an increased chance to land and to ignore critical hits if you are unarmed or wielding an improvised weapon. This chance is further increased for every additional opponent within a ten foot radius.

Perfect. Now all she had to do was free her hands, get out of this barn, and find an improvised weapon. Cassie would have cried except she’d already done that enough during the interrogation. Now she just felt empty inside, like she had no more emotion left. Except weariness.

The door to the barn opened and Garrik stepped in, followed by two of his lackeys. “So, demon,” he said. “Do you have any more mindless chatter about other worlds and blue boxes today? Or do we actually get the truth this time?”

“Just the same truth,” Cassie said quietly. “I don’t know where I am or what brought me here. But there is an apocalypse coming. I don’t know what it is. If I knew I would tell you. You think I want to die?! I don’t know what you expect from me! I told you I’m not a demon! I–” As her voice rose to a desperate snarl, one of the Elf guards stepped forward and hit her in the face. Cassie tasted blood once again.

Garrik sighed. His blank white eyes studied her face. “Clean her up,” he said. “I don’t know what game the hellions are playing, but I don’t think we’ll get anywhere with her. She can go to the assizes with the rest.” He turned and swept out of the barn, leaving her alone with the two guards.

The guards released the chain suspending Cassie and she nearly collapsed from exhaustion. She looked at the open door and considered making a run for it. No, it was too risky. She felt too weak to even stand, let alone run. She simply stood patiently as the two guards roughly wiped away the blood grime with a wet cloth, then led her out of the building by the chain still attached to her manacles.

There was a wagon standing outside, hitched to a pair of horses. The back was covered in an iron cage. A prison transport, she realised. There were two halflings inside, manacled just like she was. They seemed like they’d been through the Elves’ interrogation too. They stared at her curiously as the guards shoved her into the cage and locked the entrance shut behind her.

The guards walked away as the wagon began to move. The floor of the cage was wooden, and not very comfortable despite the thin layer of hay which covered it. Every bump in the road sent a jolt through Cassie’s bones.

“So what are you in for?” one of the halflings asked. She was a young woman, about the same age as Cassie if she had to guess. Unlike the other halflings she’d seen in the village, this one wasn’t as cherubic or rounded. Instead, her face was all hard edges and angles, with bruises covering one side of her jaw. Despite this, she was grinning. It seemed a bit manic given the circumstances.

“What do you think she’s in for?” her companion said. “She’s a bloody demon, ain’t she?” He was more like the other hobbits Cassie had seen, although he was also bruised enough.

“She’s a cambion, Ramsbuckle,” his companion corrected him. “If she was a demon she wouldn’t be here. Although I am curious to know how you ended up caught by the Pale Legion.”

“Yeah, the elves wanted to know that too,” Cassie said. “They had an interesting way of asking.”

“I’m not surprised,” the halfling said. “It’s bad enough for us, but they would probably attack a cambion even without any provocation.” She looked around the cage in case any of the guards were watching, but the elves seemed more than happy to leave the wagon unattended while they travelled. There was a click and the halfling’s left arm came away from the manacle. “That’s better,” she said, rubbing the skin gingerly.

“How did you do that?” Cassie asked.

The halfling winked. “Trade secret.” She fished around in her tunic and brought out a small phial hanging from a chain. She opened the stopper and took a quick swig. She offered it to Ramsbuckle who waved it away wordlessly. Then she looked at Cassie as though trying to make a judgement. Then she held it out. “The name’s Erica,” she said. “Erica Wetherbrook. Of the Threefold Shires.”

She seemed to be waiting for something. Some sign of recognition. Cassie didn’t care. She took the phial and threw back the contents. The liquid was hot and sweet. It tasted like cinnamon and berries. She felt it slide down her throat, spreading the warm feeling throughout her body and easing the pain in her stomach.

“What was that?” she asked.

Erica narrowed her eyes at her and took the phial back. “You’re not from here, are you?” She put the phial away and slipped her hand back into the manacle. “Now those elves might think you’re a spy for the orcs. Thing is, even the orcs wouldn’t be stupid enough to send a cambion as a spy when we have the Pale Legion swarming the shires. Besides, I’ve been to the Orc Lands and even they know what the Threefold Shires is.”

“You’re right,” Cassie said. “I’m not from around here.” She sighed. “But I’m not from the Demonseal either, whatever that is.”

Erica snorted. “Is that what they thought? I don’t know about you but if the Demonic Legions could break the Demonseal, I think they’d do worse than send a single cambion who got caught at the first opportunity.” She sighed. “Look, why don’t you start the story from the beginning. And we’ll see what we can make of it.”

----------------------------------------

Alystair settled into the bed in his immersion pod. He was fully wired in now, and fully tubed up too. They’d told him that they could always put in all the plumbing after he was immersed but he’d insisted on staying awake for it. He wanted to know exactly what was going where and why they were placing it, thank you very much. So now he was sitting rather uncomfortably as the lab technician adjusted his wires. He was still only in his swimming trunks, and feeling very self-conscious about it.

The feeling only increased as Lady Tiamat came into view, standing above him. “Can you give us a moment?” she asked. The technician nodded and vanished. Alystair tried to sit up but Lady Tiamat pushed him back. “You’ll pull on the wires,” she said. Alystair relaxed back. Or at least, as much as he could relax, looking up at his boss while he was half-naked.

“I was wavering on whether to send you in, Harvesson,” Tiamat said. “I wasn’t sure whether you would be better served going in or staying behind and helping us here.” Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s not because of your startling insights over the course of this project.” Alystair grimaced and she smiled a genuine smile.

“You are, however, the most competent Humanities researcher I’ve seen in a long time,” she said. “I’ve lived amongst the humans, Alystair. I’ve raised them, I’ve empowered them, I’ve cast them down when they displeased me. But they were always playthings. My flock, as the humans now put it. But never my equals. None of us Demiurges thought of them in that way, not even that old letch Zeus, for all his philandering.”

She sighed. “But I’ve seen how you look at them, Alystair. How you consume their media, study their civilisations. How you talk about them and appreciate what they create.” She paused. “That’s what makes you a good Humanities researcher.”

She looked at the others, already in their pods and fully immersed. “Chrom is an old hand. He knows military tactics better than anyone I trust. Lyriel is young and brilliant and determined. And Nessa… well, Nessa has more to prove than even Lyriel does. But you?” She turned back to him. “You are the heart of the group, Alystair. The others see this as a mission. An opportunity for research, for advancement. But I have a feeling that you see this the way humans do. As an adventure. Use that connection you have to them. That will serve you better than anything we could do to prepare you. The fate of the experiment is in your hands.”

With that, she swept away and the technician returned. Alystair sat stunned. It was the most she had ever spoken to him, in a whole year of working in the labs. He hadn’t even realised that she knew his name, let alone made an analysis of his character.

“All set?” the technician asked.

“What? Oh. Yeah, all set,” Alystair mumbled. He lay back in the pod as the technician helped him put on his oxygen mask, then closed the glass lid of the pod. Alystair closed his eyes, feeling more jittery than he ever had in his life. The technician counted down from three. Two. One. And then the world went black.

----------------------------------------

There was silence in the prison wagon as it trundled down the road. Then Erica swore.

“Yeah, that was my reaction too,” Cassie said. She sighed. Whatever was in that phial the halfling had given her, she felt relaxed and calm. Even the ache in her muscles had subsided, although the manacles still chafed against her skin.

“Well what are you going to do now?” Erica asked.

“What do you mean?”

Erica frowned at her. “You’ve discovered that the world you’ve been landed in is about to be destroyed, aye? So what are you going to do about it, eh?”

“I- hadn’t really gotten that far,” Cassie said. “I was just trying to get to grips with where I was and what I was doing, and next thing I’m being punched in the face by an elf.”

Erica made a face. “Well, that is a fair point to be sure. You haven’t really had the best welcome to our world, have you?” Then she grinned. She jumped up and made a deep bow, somehow keeping her balance even in a jostling prison wagon and with manacles fixed to her wrists. “Welcome to Tiavalis, Cassandra Andrews. It’s a charming place, Pale Elves notwithstanding. But we’re working on that. You stand in the presence of Erica Wetherbrook and Horace Ramsbuckle, heroes of the Halfling Shires and dashing outlaws.”

“You don’t mean to say you believe her?” Ramsbuckle said. He’d been listening to Cassie’s explanation with an increasingly dubious expression. “The girl is insane!”

“Aye, that she might be. But she’s not lying. I can tell a liar, Horace, and sane or otherwise she believes everything she says. And besides, I have nothing better to do with my time now. And this is an adventure as good as any other.”

“What?” Ramsbuckle said. His eyes went wide. “Eri. We need you. The Shires need you. You can’t turn your back on us now.”

Eri shook her head. “I wasn’t the one who turned my back, Horace. The Shires turned their back on me. For all their talk of Halfling independence, they were the ones who gave me up to the Legion, don’t forget. So no, I won’t be coming back.” She looked at Cassie and smiled. “Besides, if our cambion friend is to be believed, someone needs to make sure that there’s a shire to come back to at all.”

Cassie looked between the halflings. “Wait. What’s happening?”

Erica grinned again. “How good are you at running?”

Cassie thought about her new class level. “Better at fighting than running,” she said.

“Well, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” Erica said, deftly slipping her hand out of her manacle once more. “Let’s get you out of those chains.” She knelt by Cassie’s side and produced a long, thin piece of metal seemingly from thin air. She jammed it into the manacle’s keyhole and began to twiddle it between her fingers.

It didn’t take long to free the three prisoners. Even so, they were barely done before the elves sounded a warning, and the wagon slowly came to a halt. They were sitting with their manacles in their laps, giving the impression that they were still fastened to their wrists.

“What’s the hold up?” Cassie heard one of the elves say. The voice sounded different. Gravelly. It took Cassie a moment to realise that they were speaking a different language. Then she realised that she hadn’t spoken English at all since she’d arrived in Tiavalis.

“What are they saying?” Erica hissed. “I don’t speak demonic.”

Demonic? Not Elvish. Okay, that was something to ask about later. “They’re saying there’s a tree blocking the path,” Cassie translated. “They’re stopping here till they can move it out of the way.”

“Perfect,” Erica grinned.

One of the Elf guards came to the back of the prison wagon and stood by the door. He peered in at the prisoners with a scowl, studying each of their faces suspiciously. Cassie scowled back. The elf snorted and turned away, keeping his eyes flitting between the trees, watching for any sign of trouble.

That’s when Cassie leapt forward. She shot her arms out through the iron grate and grabbed him, pinning him back against the cage with one hand while the other smothered the yell of alarm that threatened to erupt from his mouth. The element of surprise was her only advantage, but it wouldn’t last very long.

Erica slid to the door and began working at the lock feverishly. “Any time now,” Cassie said. Erica muttered something under her breath.

A cry went up from the road ahead, followed by shouts of surprise from the elves. “The others are attacking,” Ramsbuckle said nervously. “Hurry up Eri!”

“I’m through!” Erica snapped. Cassie let go of the Elf and slammed her shoulder against the door. It flew open and hit the elf in the back, sending him sprawling in the dirt. In that split second, the three of them slipped out from the wagon.

Up ahead, about twenty paces away, the legionnaires were shooting arrows into the trees around them. A large tree lay felled across the road, blocking the path.

“Run!” Erica shouted. The two halflings disappeared into the undergrowth faster than Cassie could blink. But she wasn’t as lucky. The Pale Elf guard she had knocked down hadn’t stayed down for long. He jumped to his feet and unslung his own bow, notching an arrow with one fluid motion.

Cassie swore. At this range an arrow would skewer her like a stuck pig. And running away wouldn’t change those odds. There was only one option. She charged towards the elf with a savage cry. The elf tried to back away as he aimed, but Cassie held one end of her manacles in one hand and swung the other like a makeshift flail.

The metal cuff slammed into the bow just as the elf released his arrow. It went wide, disappearing into the forest. Cassie didn’t stop moving. The elf snarled at her as she closed the distance but he couldn’t get his arms up in time. Cassie’s fist slammed into the elf’s face. The elf went rigid as she made contact. His eyes rolled back into his head as he toppled over and fell to the floor.

Cassie couldn’t help but grin as she turned and ran after the two halflings. Critical hits. You had to love them.

They didn’t stop running till the sounds of the forest had drowned out the shouts from the elves. As the halflings stopped to catch their breath, Cassie crouched down and placed her hand on the ground, pushing her fingertips into the dirt and closing her eyes.

The sounds of the forest died away. She stayed in that position and concentrated. She could sense… things. Sounds. Smells. The soul of the forest itself.

“River to the West,” she said. “About half an hour away. Quickest route out would be to follow it downstream.”

“Oh look, the half-elf knows how to read a forest,” Ramsbuckle said.

Erica laughed. “Don’t mind him. He’s just sore that he can’t keep up with you and your long legs.”

Ramsbuckle huffed and stood up. “Either way, we can’t stay here.” He looked at Erica and his gaze softened. “Eri-”

“Don’t say it,” Erica cut him off. She stood up and hugged the halfling tightly before letting go and stepping back quickly. “Goodbye Horace. Give my love to the others. And tell them I’ll be back. But not just yet.”

Ramsbuckle chewed his moustache for a moment, then nodded. “I won’t force you. Not if your mind is made. But we will be waiting. Goodbye Eri.”

He stood up slowly and walked to the edge of the clearing. He looked back at Erica. She gave him a little wave. He smiled sadly and walked away into the forest. Erica watched him till he disappeared into the trees, then turned to Cassie. “So, Cassandra Andrews, where do we go from here?”

Cassie frowned. “I don’t know. You’re the one who lives here.”

Erica looked thoughtful. Then she clambered onto a boulder so she was standing above Cassie like a statue on a pedestal. She raised her arm and pointed off into the forest in one direction. “That way lies the Elven city of Alvarron. Most populous city in Tiavalis.” She raised her other arm in the opposite direction. “In that direction, Gruuvah’s Knuckle, a major border city of the Orc lands.”

She dropped her arms. “If you want to stop an apocalypse, you need information. And for that, you need civilization, Cassie. Proper civilization. Not some tiny halfling village in the shire. So, which way?”

Cassie considered it. “I’ve had my fill of elves right now,” she said eventually. “Shall we go to the Orc Lands?”

Erica grinned. “Just what I was thinking.” She jumped off the rock. “So we go West. Let’s hope the orcs are more welcoming than the elves were.”

----------------------------------------

Captain Garrik of the Pale Legion looked down at the dead legionnaire. He curled his lip in an uncharacteristic show of contempt. “How many were there?” he asked.

“Half a dozen maybe,” his lieutenant said. She stood to attention, keeping her face impassive. Garrik appreciated the discipline. “They were attacked from the trees. It was a clumsy ambush. But they were clumsy guards. Inexperienced.”

“Experienced enough to know better,” Garrik snapped. “Did they hear the prisoners say anything while they were being transported? Anything that could point us to where this Threefold Shire group meets?”

“Nothing, captain.” The lieutenant hesitated. “They said the hellion did most of the talking. Told the halflings the same thing she told us. That there was an apocalypse coming. Kept talking about the blue boxes again. The guards said that the halflings believed them.”

Garrik sneered. “The gods save us from foolish halflings and what they put their trust in.” He looked around at the scene again, then at the lieutenant. “You can go,” he said. She bowed and walked away.

Garrik sighed. He crouched on the ground and placed his palm against the hard dirt. He felt the ache in his heart as he called out to the forest, pleading with it to lead him to his quarry went. He knew it wouldn't work, but he tried all the same. The forest did not respond. His fingers tightened as he felt the emptiness inside him, felt the bile rise in his throat.

It had been so long since he’d heard the verdant call in his heart. The song of the forest as he ran through it. So many years since the demons had robbed him of his very soul. He knew that Tiavalis was out there, just beyond his reach. His spirit ached to feel that connection once more. He thought about the demonspawn and her talk of messages from the land. It made him sick to think of the spirit of Tiavalis reduced to inane scrawling in a magical window. But in his heart he knew he'd give anything to feel even that ounce of connection to his world.

He opened his eyes slowly, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill onto the ground. Then his eyes widened in horror. He swore, falling backwards onto the ground and scrambling away.

In front of him floated a blue box – like a tablet hovering in mid air and inscribed with elven script.

Congratulations! You have unlocked the World System interface.

Welcome to the world of Tiavalis!

The Apocalypse will occur in: 61 days

Garrik stared at the message, trying to process what he was seeing. “The fu-”