As the twilight of our third day in Valoria descended over the city of Farrelston we made our way across town, heading for the dance hall. The district it was in was one of the more gentrified neighborhoods, and as we walked along, we could see the differences. The roads were cleaner, more windows had paned glass, and the stonework down to the roads was improving. The spawn wasn't necessarily bad, per se, but it wasn't this nice. Looking at bills of fare posted outside of taverns and other establishments also showed that the prices were getting upgraded as well. Upside, it was probably better than what we had now.

From what I was seeing, as you got closer to the docks, the general state of the city deteriorated. The closer you got to the royal palace, the nicer it got, which was pretty expected for these sorts of things. I wondered if there were ways within the game to alter that status, to make improvements to the city itself.

I was broken from my idle musings as we approached the dance hall. Out front, several males and females stood offering a free dance lesson to new patrons, limmed in the gold of quest bearers. The building itself wasn't the most ostentatious of structures, but quite lovely, with beige stone walls, three arched double doors, and above, a pair of paned glass windows with window pots of what looked like moonflowers, unfurling themselves as the sun's light faded, and this being a fantasy world, small twinkling lights winked in and out of sight above as we approached the doors. City dwellers made their way on the streets, closing up shops while other vendors pulled up carts in front of the dance hall. I diverted over to the vendor to see what their selection looked like.

The first sold clothing that was appropriate for the hall. When I held some of the garments, they all had a similar trait: Dyeable, meaning that they could be tailored to whatever particular. These were Cosmetic Sets, without true stats, they were ways for players to wear essentially whatever they wanted for their unique look. World of Warcraft had its Transmog, FFXIV had its Glamours, and Valoria Saga had joined the litany of them. The nicest ones were a bit out of our price range, but there were certainly options for everyone that fit our budgets. I did note that the higher ones the vendor sold did give bonuses for interactions with higher society. I pointed it out to Chrysta next to me, "Look at this. I think there must be a system of social ranks within the game. Can we gain title?"

She considered, a mischievous smile on her face as she stood faux-regally, "High Queen Chrysta, Supreme Ruler of Valoria... I like it... I like it a lot."

A genuine smile crossed my face, playing back, "And what's that make me?"

Her mischievous smile turned devilish, "Oh Darlin', so many options. Queen's Consort, Court Jester, so many options."

The next cart sold the actual Glamour Scroll that would bind the cosmetic pieces to whatever gear you were wearing. These were decently cheap, and alongside them Dispelling Charms to detach them again. I think I remember the devs demonstrating that the Cosmetic Pieces could be kept in a special wardrobe that players could access from their residences, unlocking a wardrobe that held them when you picked up your first piece. When you used the Charms, the cosmetic piece returned to the wardrobe for later use.

The third cart sold dyes for the cosmetics. Far from a complete list of dyes, certainly, but serviceable for the starting area of the game. I knew for a fact there were richer dyes that could be found later or crafted by the Artist job. The fourth vendor sold basic jewelry.

Everyone began mobbing the vendors, who by inclination seemed to be trying to upsell everyone. I myself selected a tunic/vest combo, liking the patterning on the vest, though the color on the tunic was a dull off-white. I followed that with a pair of simple black thirteen-button pants, though I was determined to improve the buttons and maybe the lines. For boots, I bought a pair of well-polished black-heeled shoes that had a slight heel to them, along with a longcoat that could be toggled on or off via the link. I skipped over to the jewelry vendor next and got a silver Brigid pendant, her personalized knotwork with a small ruby in the center.

Next, the dyes. These could be used by link, allowing you to dye any dyeable gear that you had. It was as simple as concentrating on how you wanted it to be applied. The bland tunic became a vibrant hunter green with silver embroidery on the cuffs, the vest silver with darker embellishments to make the patterning stand out all the more, while for the pants, I dyed the buttons in silver, as well as the lines on the sides. The longcoat I reversed, matching with a musketeer-style brimmed half, half the hat held up by a silver hat pin, a green feather sticking out the back. I moved and twisted in the costume, and it felt great, but until I got to a mirror, I wouldn't be able to vouch for the look of it. I heard a whistle from behind me, "Oh, very nice, darlin'. How do I look?"

Alright, I'll be honest... I lost focus a bit here. Aside from the wardrobe change, Chrysta had the top and sides of her hair braided back, but the dress. It formed almost perfectly to her, a deep blue, with a belt that accentuated her hips and more significantly heeld shoes, "I... uh... I uh..."

I have a Bachelor's Degree in Accounting and went to college on a scholastic scholarship. I was on the Dean's List for most of this time, and while I wasn't at the top of my class, I was close. None of that intelligence was in any way demonstrating itself at this moment. Chrysta stepped, "There we go. That is the effect I was goin' for, sugar."

She sauntered over toward the dance trainers, and I just stood there watching her walk away mutely until orcish fingers snapped in front of my face, Khargol laughed, "So.. see anything you like?"

I considered replying, but I was going to lose an exchange, "Thank you."

Catching up to Chrysta and a few others, I stood in front of one of the female dancers, "I'd be honored if you would teach me some of the local dances, please."

The woman smiled lightly, "Oh, a gentleman. So nice to see, but alas, I am only here to direct. Come inside and proceed to the Mistress of the hall. She'll be standing along the dance floor as you enter. She will teach you the dances of Farrelston."

She motioned through the doors, and I stepped inside. Within, stands of candles kept a comfortable but slightly dim lighting, designed to enhance a more romantic mood as a small band played across a wide hall lined with windows similar to the ones out front. The dance floor itself was darkly polished wood rather than stone with tasteful draperies hung about. The entire structure had been beautifully designed, and I marveled at what the poor coders had to have sacrificed so much of their lives to render this whole place in three dimensions. A human woman who looked to be in her early middle age was waiting along the edge of the dance floor, and as I came up to her, curtsied, "Ah, I see that you wish to learn the art of dance?"

"Yes, I do."

She nodded and extended one elegant hand, "Very well, then. Take my hand and follow me."

I took the proffered hand and watched as the other players disappeared. Hmm, an instanced area? Probably for the best. Instanced areas of games were player or group-specific areas. This was how hundreds of parties could be doing the same dungeon in games like World of Warcraft or Final Fantasy without tripping over each other. It also got used in certain areas for single-player, allowing players to get content that was intended for solo events. Here, the object was to learn the steps of various dances to gain them as abilities. The Dance Hall's Madame took me through three dances, one that was strictly for a ballroom, and then two group dances, the first a more formal one favored in higher circles and a second that was used regularly in more common places for festivals and the like. Some of the beta testers commented on there being an entire thing about various regional dances but I'll be honest, I wasn't paying that much attention to dancing as a thing.

Dancing did, however, provide some XP into my Agility, and then I noticed it added to a lot of attributes. The only areas it didn't give XP for were things like Strength, Intellect, and Wits. Every other attribute, however, was getting at least some gains which made it an amazing chance to build up starting statistics. Upon completion, I was awarded the three abilities for dances that I'd practiced, and the Madame invited me back to learn more when I had mastered these beginning dances. I was stuck on the XP, however. More focused things like the Calisthenics ability targeted and gave more XP, but that was against fewer attributes. My guess at this point was that mastery of the abilities would be gained when I was no longer getting XP from the dances I had.

Returning, most of the group was either in the hall or in the instaced tutorial... but this was where we ran into an issue. It was more or less being treated like the first junior high school dance, with everyone particularly avoiding the dance floor. Certainly, there we conversations going on, but they were all sort of just banding up in little cliques around the edges, trying very hard not to admit noticing each other. Standardly in an MMO, everyone would be going kind of nuts with extroverted displays, but once again this being rather more real created a divergence. Most of the more over-the-top gamer stuff was based around the fact that sooner or later, you logged out and went on with your normal life outside the game. Lugh and Khargol might be great heroes, but Luke and Rob would be going back to the office on Tuesday in their suit and tie. If it was just me, I'd be on the edges too, but something about being in charge put it in my head that I needed to get everyone moving.

So I strode over to where Khargol, Shalera, and Chrysta were, bowing in an over-exaggerated manner and proferring my hand, "Chrysta, I believe I promised you dancing."

Chrysta chuckled and took my hand, "Well, y'all know I can't resist a man o' his word, darlin'."

Khargol... was a little less formal about it, grabbing Shalera by the hand, "Let's do this!"

The four of us got out onto the middle of the floor and joined in as the band started to play, an instrumental number focused on something akin to a violin. Chrysta smiled as we began to turn in time with the music, "I'd be pretty impressed if this wasn't an ability."

I grinned back wolfishly, "Oh, I can actually dance IRL. You came to nerdom later in life... I was born in it, molded by it."

She snorted a bit, but there was a tinge of sadness in her amber eyes, "It's too bad we'd never be able to do this back there."

I cocked my head as we continued to move, "Oh no, I figured out how to do it."

This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Her eyebrow quirked, "And how would you accomplish that?"

Feeling my druthers a bit, I like her spin away from me for a moment before pulling her back in, "Pretty simple. Just get my hand under your ass and lift you up."

Chrysta actually lost a step on that one, about to object, but I was still grinning, "I mean, it's win-win for me. I get to dance with you and I get a hand on your backside."

As we continued to dance, others began to follow suit, coming out onto the floor in their own little couples. People were beginning to relax a bit, and once they realized the system would trigger through the ability chain practically on its own, it went far better. We danced, we drank, and generally just stopped remembering how close we all were to death here in the world of Equess.

I'd love to say that things with Chrysta and I continued on later but that just wasn't the case. We had fun, certainly, but at the end of the night, I had to attend to making sure everyone got back to the barracks okay, check on the new recruits, and met with the new Unit Commanders. For the most part, they were all in at least slightly better spirits having a regular place to call home, even if was a barracks room. The militia was full to bursting with people now, players from across the city needing places to live without having to go beyond the boundaries of Farrelston. After that, I finally retired to my room, and sat down at my writing desk to make a full log entry,

"Blessday, 24th of Lugin 837AC

Today began the first full day of militia training... The training itself went well, and everyone's getting up to form as best they can. We've already got some folks grabbing up necessary crafting jobs but the issue is going to be gathering jobs. No one's close to ready for having to go outside the city and they're staying away from those things that would mean they have to.

Myself, I'm curious about the outside world. I came to this game to explore, it's why I chose to become a Hunter, to go out into the unknown wilderness of this world but doing so right now isn't advisable. We need to train up, but at the same time, all of the Hunter abilities are settled on being on the hunt, for obvious reasons. I can't properly maximize my own abilities stuck in the city. When I feel like I've gotten enough of a build-up, I'll try and see who all wants to go out with me, but our best bet right now is here in the barracks.

Patrols all went well, but we ran afoul of some of the problems of the whole situation while we were out. Players are paralyzed, afraid, and just hoping that someone pulls them out. The longer this goes on, the less chance there is of that. Even if only our server was affected by this, that's over a quarter of a million people, and it's been two days. By now, they would be pulling us out if they knew how, or at least finding a way to get information into us from the outside world. Running by the numbers, the most likely scenario is that people have been moved to care facilities. The rigs have a battery supply, and a hotspot would give us continuing internet access during the move, so that's a nothing commute.

I directed people to get moving, at least joining the militia ranks for housing and some sort of basic subsistence. Many have come, and others went to the guilds, taking up various jobs that can keep them in coin, but there were still plenty in the cathedral square when we left. They're settling in for the longer haul of this, but the equation has to change or it's going to get ugly. The guys that tried to boss rush the game really set us back, and god... so many names.

There's a memorial section of the Adventurer's Guild now, and it has thousands of names in it now. The thing is, no dev would've bothered coding something like that into a game with an active respawn system. What would be the point? 'Here's lies Kyle, who died tragically and respawned back at the cathedral a minute later.' It wouldn't have any weight with players, and the game didn't advertise any sort of hardcore mode. The more I'm considering it, the more I'm convinced this isn't some random bug or glitch. Someone or something did this, and it's not just the memorial.

Father Talathel, an elven priest at the Cathedral was dead on with helping me when I was freaking out earlier. He directly responded to everything I told him and gave customized responses to it. Certainly, NPCs have been helpful in games but not like this. His answers were all from an in-game perspective, but they were fully lucid and thoughtful responses to ongoing verbal stimuli. Sure, the occasional momentary pause here or there, but along the lines of what you would expect from a person hearing out your problems and formulating how best to respond. Something's gone hinky and I'm beginning to suspect it has to do with the AI."

There wasn't much else to be said right now, so I closed up the logbook and got some sleep, my little pet dragon choosing to sleep in the crook of my knee. The next several days fell into a fairly familiar pattern. With so many extra militia, we set up morning, afternoon, and evening patrols, as well as a rotation for training so the whole yard wasn't mobbed. The new arrivals had issues, sure, but there was a Process now, and Things To Do. Panic can only really last so long for the vast majority of folks. Of interest, the barracks itself was starting to change with better lighting and even builders working on the structure. Apparently, there were yet more aspects of life in Valoria Saga to take note of. Patrols with so many militia members seemed to run into fewer issues with random crime, which was a boon in that it made sure we were all staying safe, but it worked against our XP grinding.

The cathedral square slowly emptied out as players saw more and more people who were moving with purpose and sought to find some of their own. I made regular visits to the Memorial Hall and noted the names. Checking between militia rolls, and guild registrations, I narrowed things down and could finally conclude that the list of the dead was almost entirely from amongst those who'd gone out of the city immediately. The memorials didn't list the cause or time of death, but given how quickly they'd gone up, it was probably a good assumption that they had gone down around the same time and likely, the same place.

I got better at confiding in Father Talathel at the cathedral, sort of just treating my time with him as a therapy session. He didn't really give me a path forward, but maintaining sanity was more the goal anyway. The cathedral seemed to be building up as well from the newest acolytes, as were the main guild hall and the Mages Guild. So, that confirms the idea that enrollments and player actions could create effects and alterations around the city.

We were finishing up in the cathedral square when I spared a look over to the city gates: Players were running as hard and fast as they could to get inside the city gates, and while I couldn't hear what they were yelling, it was pretty certain that they were fleeing from something. Without time to think, I charged, my unit pulling up around me as we ran out of the city for the first time toward a group of players. As we closed, we saw what was chasing them, at least a full warband of goblins. The goblins were small to be sure, with mottled green skin, black eyes, and razor-sharp teeth, throwing javelins at their fleeing opponents. I blew three times on my whistle, summoning reinforcements with the others following suit in short order, "Militiamen! Shield Wall! The rest of us, we get to the flanks! Focus on the ones closest to the players!"

It was pure chaos amongst the fleeing players. Our militiamen NPCs did as commanded, forming up a wall of shields and progressing forward, spears going between any gaps in the wall as they advanced. There was no cover outside the walls of Farrelston, cleared to give clear visibility of the area against any who would try to attack the city proper. I fired off my first shot in the game, killing one of the goblins who was riding a large wolfhound. They didn't seem to be difficult in so much as they were numerous, and those fleeing them were completely gassed out.

The less fortunate point of that moment was that my action had earned the aggro of the goblin's mount. I fired again, missing the first shot, then the second as it bounded back and forth in my direction. I had its complete attention now... until Shalera caught it from the side with a spear, driving it onto its side. I didn't spare time, firing arrows for near point-blank range until I got the XP notification. I stopped by it long enough to retrieve what arrows I could and looked out. It was a mess, the goblins still gaining even as the players attempted to flee. At the back, other goblins were throwing some sort of incendiaries, and I turned my focus to them. They didn't go down immediately like the first rider had, but it wasn't about killing one on every shot. Instead, I fired one shot at each to redirect their aggro toward me, to give the others time to escape.

Upside: It worked. Downside: It worked. The warband's general level of enmity did shift away from those that were running, and directly onto us, more pointedly myself. I called out, "Militiamen! Abandon Shield Wall, and Charge!"

The unit responded almost instantly, rushing forward with shields and spears at the ready. From the other side, my fellow militia players were now engaging, redirecting forces again. They were focused on the mounts, the collections of wolfhounds that were trying to bear down. Shalera and I had to start rushing away, using hit and fade tactics as incendiaries were raining in. I couldn't keep this up forever at range, as ammo was dwindling. Taking a chance with one of my arrows, I waited until the Goblin Grenadier was preparing to throw and fired, not at the goblin this time, but the grenade. It exploded in its hand, taking out the goblin as well as several around it. The militia NPCs crashed into the front of the goblin warband, giving as good as they got. The problem was that it wouldn't properly be enough.

That's when we heard the sounds of other whistles, and as the goblins closed on the walls, arrows began raining down from the battlements. Others had come and immediately summoned their NPCs while the goblins had come within range of the bowmen on the walls. As the numbers shifted, we were able to polish off the goblins and got a minute to enjoy a fairly well-earned victory. Dings were going off one after another in my ear as I took stock. According to the party list, no one in my unit had fallen.

Although the ground was littered with the goblins' dead, as we ranged out, we saw player bodies on the ground too. They were too far behind the enemy lines to be ours, and that left only the other option: Those who hadn't been able to flee fast enough. Acolytes were able to save one or two, but... at least half a dozen more names were going up in the memorial. I checked on my unit, and all were looking good, Shalera seeming especially proud of herself, having claimed several solid kills on guys that were trying to run me down. There were more immediate concerns of the moment, "Alright, grab all the loot we can. Anyone trained in skinning with me to take care of the hounds."

It took a while, but we gathered up everything we could. I was the only one who had the Skinning ability, a less than subtle nod to the earlier problem of getting people to take the gathering jobs. The general goblin equipment was just vendor trash, but that's still coin. The pelts from the hounds would be useful for tanning and leatherworking. The fangs could be made into jewelry, and Shalera managed to get some of the little fire bombs off of the Grenadier corpses. The Boss Goblin, however, had the best prize: Some proper hide armor, an unidentified magical helmet, and a bow. Checking over the bow stats, it was a shortbow in technical but dealt longbow damage. The leader of the warband had been mass-mobbed by the NPC militiamen which did prove there was at least some sort of limit to the adaptive AI. It wasn't a matter of infinite counters.

Where everyone paused was going over the dead. It was one thing to loot the bodies of mobs, but looting fellow players who'd just died wasn't high on anyone's list of things to do today. I sighed and went over, going over the remains to see if there was anything that could help us. There were things, but it was random oddments, and a bunch of gear that would have to be identified and distributed later. Aside from that, a mass of starter gear. I left the avatars with their dignity but replenished arrows to full and looked about.

It was late afternoon, and I was getting my first view of the world outside the city. For a space of hundreds of yards, there were no significant structures, leading down toward a wide stone bridge across a wide river. Off in the distance they'd come from, I could see the beginnings of a dense forest and even farther, mountains along the horizon. Shalera knelt down, "Do you see more of them?"

"No, but that's not saying much. We need to get to the bridge and see how badly it got damaged," I replied, not changing my focus.

Eventually, I heard a familiar set of heavy footfalls and rose, turning, "Khargol. Take your unit down to the bridge, see what if any damage got done, and have your hunters check to make sure we don't have any more warbands coming. Don't engage, just make sure we're not missing anyone, and get back here."

His usually cavalier attitude was gone, "Yes, sir."

Shalera cast a side glance at me, "You're not going down?"

I shook my head, "Nah, Khargol's got this. His weren't part of the fight, so his guys still have the charges on their whistles. I need to talk to the survivors."