Virtue sat at a worn wooden table in the common room of the Cockatrice and Bullock, her gaze drifting from the group of patrons scattered about the cozy space to the flickering fire in the hearth. After negotiating with Mr. Higgins, she had spent every last bit of Kudos she had earned on a small room and a week’s worth of board. It wasn't cheap, but it was safe, and right now, that was all she could ask for.
The room she secured was small but clean. A narrow bed with a wool blanket took up most of the space, the mattress lumpy but comfortable enough. A single window, slightly fogged, looked out onto the street below, and a chipped porcelain basin sat atop a wooden stand in the corner. It wasn't much, but it was hers for the week, and for now, it would do. She’d quickly dropped her bag and come back down, lured by the scent of something warm and delicious.
Settling down at a table near the hearth, Virtue dug into a fantastic meal of pie and mash. The crust was flaky, and the filling rich, the kind of comfort food she hadn't realized just how much she needed. The mashed potatoes were buttery, and a thick gravy tied it all together. She could feel her tension slowly easing as she ate, the warmth of the fire taking the edge off the autumn chill that still lingered in her bones.
She wasn’t alone for long. The other patrons in the bar seemed curious about her—clearly, they could tell she was new. A group of four gathered near her table, and one by one, they introduced themselves, each with their own story to tell. It quickly became apparent that they were all in the same position as her—stuck in this alternate London, working for Paragon, and unable to leave until they leveled up enough to escape. Each of them had progressed through the ranks, moving up from Vilon Level 1--the level Virtue was at--towards higher statuses, but none had yet reached the point where they could return home. They spoke of how London had grown increasingly dangerous lately—the war in heaven was intensifying, spilling over onto the streets. Strange occurrences and violent incidents were becoming more frequent, and even the more experienced Paragon drivers were finding it harder to stay safe.
The first was Sylvana Stormcloud, a middle-aged elf whose silver hair fell in soft waves over her shoulders. She wore a robe sewn with intricate runes, each one glowing faintly with enchantments. Virtue eyed the garment with open envy. “Protection runes,” Sylvana explained, catching Virtue's gaze. “They help a little, keep the nastier things from getting too close. I earn my Kudos making and repairing magical clothing items.” She paused, then added, “I'm currently Vilon, 7. It’s slow going, but I’ll get there eventually.”
Virtue nodded, her interest piqued. “I could use something like that one day,” she admitted, and Sylvana smiled knowingly.
“Stick around, kid. Earn enough Kudos, and I’ll make you something special,” Sylvana said, her eyes twinkling.
Next was Roderic Pendragon, a stout dwarf with a bushy auburn beard and a twinkle in his eye. He was quick to laugh, and Virtue found herself instantly liking his energy. “I’ve got a smithy down by the riverside,” he said, taking a deep swig of ale. “I can help with repairs if you need ‘em—your carriage, Saveloy’s shoes, anything that needs a hammer and anvil.” He smiled and added, “I’m Rakixa, 3. Not too shabby, but there’s still a way to go.”
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“Thank you,” Virtue said, grateful. “Saveloy could definitely use a tune-up after tonight.”
Roderic chuckled. “Say the word, and I’ll get him sorted. Can’t have your horse going lame, especially not in a place like this.”
The third member of the group was Berrick Dandemion, a tall, thin man who looked as though he’d seen one too many winters. His hair was white, and his face lined with age, but his eyes were sharp and bright. He leaned back in his chair, nursing his drink with a sort of resigned contentment. “I’ve been here longer than I care to remember,” he said, his voice raspy but kind. “Tried to make it home once or twice, but this place has a way of keeping you here. Now, I just help out where I can, give advice to the newcomers, and enjoy my ale.” He gave a small shrug, adding, “Rakixa, 8. But I’m not in any rush anymore.”
There was a sadness in his eyes that Virtue couldn't miss. He had given up hope of returning to his own world, and something about that made her heart ache. She nodded, trying to mask her own worry. “Is it really that hard to get out?” she asked.
Berrick shrugged. “Some make it. Others don’t. It’s all about luck, skill, and whether the heavens are smiling on you.”
The final member of the group was Jenna Hospon, a young faun with curly brown hair and a gentle demeanor. Her small horns peeked out from beneath her curls, and her eyes were wide and warm. She smiled at Virtue, her voice soft. “I’m a healer. I make herbal remedies and help patch people up when they get themselves hurt. If you ever need help, just ask.” She smiled brightly, “I’m Vilon, 5. Not very high yet, but I’m getting better every day.”
Virtue returned her smile, feeling a sense of camaraderie building between them. “Thanks. I appreciate it. I have a feeling I’m going to need all the help I can get.”
Sylvana raised her mug, her voice cheerful. “To surviving Paragon and making it home, one day.”
Virtue lifted her mug, clinking it gently against the others. “To allies, and finding our way,” she said, her heart feeling just a little bit lighter.
As the conversation continued, the topic of Halloween came up. Berrick leaned forward, his expression grave. “You should be doubly cautious as Halloween approaches,” he warned. “This year, it’s a Blood Moon. The Nosferum—the vampire cult that plagues the sewers and cemeteries of the city—grows in strength during this time. They’ll be more dangerous than ever.”
Virtue shivered, a sense of unease settling over her. “A Blood Moon?” she asked.
Jenna nodded. “It’s when the barrier between realms is weakest. The creatures here become more powerful, and Nosferum especially will be on the prowl. Just be careful, Virtue. We all need to watch our backs.”
They drank together, and Virtue felt a warmth spreading in her chest, not just from the ale but from the knowledge that she wasn’t alone in this. She had allies now, and maybe even friends. And that made all the difference.
She finished her drink, exchanged a few more words with her new companions, and then excused herself. The exhaustion of the day weighed heavily on her, and she decided it would be best to start fresh in the morning.
Virtue made her way back to her small room, the warmth of the fire and the camaraderie still lingering with her. She settled onto the lumpy mattress, pulling the wool blanket up to her chin. She decided to start work early the next day, to earn more Kudos and keep moving towards her goal.