[https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/5b0c9847-92dd-4728-954f-93579b7ef57b/dfp4b37-2263ab56-0119-45a6-902f-b5d1a28c33ac.png?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7InBhdGgiOiJcL2ZcLzViMGM5ODQ3LTkyZGQtNDcyOC05NTRmLTkzNTc5YjdlZjU3YlwvZGZwNGIzNy0yMjYzYWI1Ni0wMTE5LTQ1YTYtOTAyZi1iNWQxYTI4YzMzYWMucG5nIn1dXSwiYXVkIjpbInVybjpzZXJ2aWNlOmZpbGUuZG93bmxvYWQiXX0.p0BsYA2Mn0G24goh6LfQIDOJpTol3cDIL-JEn-kN4yM]
Unlike in the real world, the effects of alcohol here were relatively short-lived, and after wearing off, they didn’t incapacitate the way a hangover would have. Unfortunately for Quill, that meant the numbness provided by drink wore off and left him alone with his emotions a lot sooner than he might have liked.
Outside the adventurers guild, he turned right and stormed off, hating the whole world and everyone in it. Life was unfair. People were assholes. Every bad thing in his life or anyone else’s life could be traced directly to the actions or inactions of selfish people, and he bloody hated it.
His feet carried him away, and that was all that mattered right now. Not where he was going, just away. He ignored players and NPCs in the flagstone streets and ignored the smells coming from bakeries and restaurants and blacksmiths.
He was angry. He was frustrated. He was hurt. He was feeling alone. More than anything, though, he hated himself. He could clearly see the person he’d been over the past few days, and it was an ugly sight. He didn’t like who he’d been, didn’t like how he’d interacted with Jane, and was ashamed of himself.
He visualized the disgusted expression on Jane’s face from the guild hall. Her reaction to him had cut him deep, worse than the last time they’d fought. His body thrummed with humiliation and raw anger. He hadn’t been in such a state of emotional turmoil and inferiority since his teen years. And he didn’t want to face it now.
He growled, “I hate this place,” and steered himself to the nearest drink vendor, where he bought four bottles of wine. Drinks in hand, he made for the plaza. He hadn’t gone ten paces before he couldn’t take being aware of his feelings any longer and opened the first bottle, downing a third of it in one gulp. He craved numbness. At the gate to the plaza, Quill slowed to a stop.
There they were: the dead. They were piled high now. There was no rot, no stink. It was as if the souls had been sucked out of everyone and empty dolls left behind.
Taking long swigs from the bottle, he slowly meandered down the narrow path between them. Paths had also been left to each of the huge class statues as well. He read the sign hanging overhead and muttered under his breath, “We’ll avenge you, huh? Will we? What if we were given the strength of a baby? What if we’re useless?”
The sound of someone sobbing in the distance made him look up. But he couldn’t see who it was. Looking down the centre path, he was the only one here. Only living person. It seemed like players had begun avoiding this city gate and were using the main one to get out of the city now.
Feeling hopeless, he wandered to the base of the paladin statue and stared up at it.
The statue continued to alternate between male and female, both covered in plate armour, one wielding a hammer, the other a spear. They were noble, proud, perhaps brave.
He snorted. Nothing at all like him.
Sinking, he sat down on the plaza stone and leaned back against the base of the statue. Putting the now empty first bottle to the side, he uncorked the second, glad they didn’t require a wine opener here. The corks stuck out of the bottle neck like champagne ones. He twisted it off and tipped the bottle to his lips. He could already feel the effects of the first hitting him as intoxication was instant in this world.
Despite his best efforts and the drunkenness, being alone in a graveyard led to more self reflection.
“What the hell am I doing?” He tightly gripped the bottle. “Pouting and drinking. They’re right; what a loser.” He took another swallow.
He was disappointed in himself. This was not the person he thought he was. You never really know who you are until life knocks you down and you see how you react.
A dark chuckle bubbled up from his chest. Here he was, in a world of adventure, where the whole point of the game, not including the death-trap thing, was for people to be heroes. Many of the quests were about helping people, saving people. There was a huge emphasis on growing stronger. What a place to find out you were a failure.
And with natural stats like his, what was the point of trying to get stronger? Others who got lucky and rolled better had already cruised to max level. Or bought the boost that did the same because they were rich. For him, why bother? For him, growing stronger would take ten times the effort and time, or more. Everyone else would just leave him behind.
A dark thought crossed his mind: maybe it would have been better if he’d died, like Aarush had. At least then he wouldn’t…Jane’s face from the guild appeared in his mind and his stomach twisted at the expression of disgust there. He downed the rest of the bottle.
Quill woke up sometime later. He’d finished the four bottles of wine and passed out. Now it was dark. His stomach rumbled. And his bladder alerted him to the fact that he’d better find a public outhouse or something sooner rather than later.
Groaning, he got to his feet, leaning up against the paladin statue a few moments to collect himself. Jane once more passed through his thoughts. With a tight sense of dread, he wondered if she had ended their party. He reached out to open his menu and stopped, scared to see that she had. Yet why? Wasn’t the best thing for her to be rid of him? Chickening out, he dropped his hand without checking his party status.
With a roll of his shoulders, he tried to ignore his feelings some more. Walking back to the main path through the plaza, he turned to the gate. Better find food and a washroom.
A slapping sound drifted through the night air, followed by grunting.
Quill paused in his tracks and listened.
The slapping continued. Then a quiet, male voice could be heard. “Yeah. Take it, slut. Just like that. You like it in your ass, huh? I’m gonna ruin that hole.” The voice quietly laughed.
Quill’s mind took a minute to catch up, but it wasn’t difficult to guess what was happening out there. The anger he’d tried to extinguish with wine flared to life again. He stealthily moved forward, ears attuned to the slapping. It was coming from the path leading to the undead class for the other starter city. He hid around the corner, the bodies piled more than head high here, and listened.
“Oh, yeah. That’s it. Ha-ha! Betcha didn’t know you were so flexible. Damn, that’s tight now!” More laughter.
Peeking down the path, Quill saw no light. He unhooked his mace from his belt, then realized he might not be able to use it against another player without triggering the system defence against such things; the city was a supposed safe zone. Not that he’d do much damage with his weapon, but why take the chance? He hooked the mace into his belt again and crept forward, trying not to make a sound.
At the end of the path, the necromancer statue rose up, slightly visible in the starlight. The base was in deep darkness. Yet Quill made out flickers of movement that indicated sex. As if the readily identifiable sounds weren’t enough. With every step, his anger burned hotter.
“Ha-ha-ha!”
Quill set himself behind the kneeling and rutting figure forcing itself between the legs of a body on the ground. With everything he had, he roundhouse kicked the man in the side of the head.
The guy’s head snapped sideways, and he fell to his left, dropping the legs he’d been holding.
Up close now, Quill could see a nude female form lying unmoving on the ground. Her eyes stared upwards at nothing. “You rapist!” He reared back and kicked the other man again and again.
But his kicks were weak, and the other man realized what was going on and defended himself. He shouted in annoyance, “What the hell? What are you doing?”
“What are you doing?” Quill roared. “She’s a player! You’re violating her!” He couldn’t believe it; and yet, he could. There were so many sick, selfish people in the world.
The man, seemingly offended at being interrupted, pushed Quill away and got to his feet, pulling his pants up as he did. “Piss off! I’m not doing anything wrong!”
“Rape isn’t wrong?”
He laughed. “Rape who? It’s basically a sex toy.”
“It was a person. She’s dead.”
In melodramatic fashion, the man rolled his eyes. “I haven’t done anything wrong. Nothing illegal. Nothing against game rules. You don’t see any city guards showing up to stop me, do you?”
The nerve of this guy set Quill’s teeth on edge. “What you’re doing is wrong!”
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.
“Says who?”
“You’re violating her!”
He looked at Quill like the latter was stupid. “What am I violating? It’s just an avatar. It’s not even a real person. Just a digital construct in our minds. What law am I breaking?”
“A moral one. How do you not see that?”
The man sneered with contempt. “Get over yourself. It’s an empty shell. It’s no different than furniture. Or one of the monsters you’ve probably killed. Or are you telling me you haven’t killed anything or anyone in the game? Hypocrite.”
Their shouting had drawn attention. Quill heard slapping feet, and a light drew closer. At the end of the path, it stopped, and four adventurers, two men and two women, one holding a lamp, saw him and the rapist. They came down the path, their light creepily illuminating the walls of heads and feet on either side of them.
The man holding the lamp raised it. “What’s going on — holy hell.” He saw the body on the ground and looked away, cursing.
The women saw what was going on and drew weapons, snarling at the two men they believed to be the perpetrators.
Quill pointed at the other man. “He was raping this woman.”
The selfish prick rolled his eyes as if in sufferance. “Like I said, you moron, she’s not a real person! It’s just an avatar!”
That caused some confusion.
The man not holding the lantern stepped forward. Going behind Quill, he kneeled and checked the woman out. He nodded. “It’s one of the bodies. Not a player. Er, a live one anyway.”
That caused the two women to marginally become less angry. They still let the rapist know how they felt, disgust written all over their faces.
“That’s still sick.”
“What is wrong with you?”
The guy waved them off, unbothered, apparently, by the concerns of living women. “Get bent, prudes. Like you wouldn’t take advantage of some of the male ones here if they could get it up.” He laughed at them, his tone utterly without remorse. He truly didn’t see anything at all wrong with what he had been doing.
Quill stepped forward and swung. With his dexterity, he missed by a mile. So did the second punch.
The rapist howled with laughter. His eyes became mocking. “Wow. Talk about lame.”
Quill blushed, embarrassed, especially with the other four watching. He spoke to them. “He should be locked up.”
Now that it was clear this wasn’t the rape of a living person, the man with the lamp cooled off. He thought briefly, then shrugged. “I dunno. Like he said, it’s….well, they’re no longer, you know, alive. Is it necrophilia? I have no idea. And, honestly, even if what he was doing was wrong, how are we supposed to lock someone up? Is there even a jail?”
The other man stood and rejoined his friends. “He’s a sick nutter. But what are we going to do about it? He’s not hurting anyone. Besides, who are we to judge? The system didn’t stop him. Are there any laws in this place?”
The two women didn’t seem to be as blasé about the issue as the two guys, but neither objected to their reasoning either. They just cast the rapist dirty looks.
Quill felt frustrated. “This is morally wrong. So wrong. That was a person. Who just died. How would they feel knowing this was happening? How would their family feel? Their friends? That someone’s desecrating the body of a loved one?” He looked from one face to another and couldn’t believe that nobody seemed to think this was a big deal.
The man with the lamp shrugged again. “Yeah, man. We know it’s creepy as hell. But still. Nothing we can really do about it.”
The rapist smirked. Standing tall and looking all-too-proud, he threw a taunting look Quill’s way and sauntered past the others, off down the path.
None of the others made any move to stop him. Giving the creep a head start, probably so as not to be associated with him, they reluctantly turned and departed as well.
Quill stood in silence until they were gone. He was too emotional to do anything until calming down. When he finally regained himself, he gently redressed the woman, climbed up the statue with the body, and returned her atop the stacks of dead. Then he left the plaza, and the city, going out into Green Hills. Finding a quiet spot with no monsters, he sat on the grass.
The moons rose, outshining the stars. Some wolves walked in pre-arranged circles in the distance. To Quill’s surprise, he saw far more hedgehogs out now. “Must be nocturnal.” They were adorable, waddling or zipping along near bushes, darting out into the moonlit grass, then back into hiding.
He wanted to relax and feel better, but before he got the chance, he heard someone coming up behind him. He turned his head to look, not really expecting bandits or something, but he was outside the safe zone now.
Two female players walked toward him, looking smug. They were fairly well dressed in light armour, not the kind you bought but that they’d likely earned from playing. Both were level ten. They stopped a couple of paces behind him.
The first, a warrior from the look of her sword, spoke mock-politely. “Evening, friend.”
The second, wearing a black robe and carrying a mace, tipped an imaginary hat. “Yeah. Evening.”
Quill sensed trouble. “Can I help you?”
The warrior’s face lit up. “You can! How nice of you to offer.” She leaned forward. “Give us everything you got.”
The cleric chimed in, “That backpack too. That looks right handy, it does.”
“Piss off, guys, what are you doing?”
“Quite simple. We’re taking everything you have. So…now.” The warrior beckoned.
Quill half laughed. “Are you serious? No. Get lost. I’m not giving you anything.”
The cleric brandished her mace, smacking the smooth, ball at the end into her palm, but still smiling. “Yeah, serious. Give us the stuff, or we’ll hurt you. And then still take it.”
He was puzzled. “You can’t do that.”
The warrior shrugged a slender shoulder and spoke as if to a baby. “Sure we can. Cuz nothing is bound to the player here. And there are two of us and one of you. Are you not good at math, dumb-dumb?”
Quill frowned. “This isn’t a PvP zone. And you can’t fight players in your own faction.”
The cleric turned to the warrior, mock disbelief in her tone. “I don’t think he gets it. You think maybe he got hit one too many times in the head?”
The warrior smirked. “Dunno. Hit him in the head one more time and see what happens. Maybe he’ll get smarter.”
The cleric had only taken a single, excited step toward Quill when Quill jumped to his feet and pulled his mace to defend himself. Unfortunately, he was on edge and not himself, and all the cleric had to do was feint once. Quill went on the attack too soon, foolishly overextending himself.
But to his astonishment, the cleric just stood there, a grin on her face.
Quill almost missed but did connect. He did next to no damage.
The warrior laughed. “You wouldn’t believe how well we rolled our stats.” Throwing back his head, he laughed. “Also, how the hell are you still only level two after all this time? Are you special in the head?”
The cleric waggled her fingers and made a face at Quill, mocking him. “Go on. Hit me again. I dare you.”
Quill did. He swung four more times, connecting twice, each miss causing the two thugs to laugh so hard they were clutching their sides.
The warrior wiped a tear from her eye. “Oh, man. This never gets old.” She drew her sword. “I have eighteen HP. He’s got twenty. I was kinda jealous until I rolled for strength. Wanna see what max strength does?”
Quill inwardly cursed and tried to back up. He didn’t make it far. The warrior was far faster.
The longsword went up, then slashed down across Quill’s body.
Quill felt the bite of pain. He fell to his knees. Only a sliver of HP was left.
The cleric walked up and lightly tapped him on the head with the mace. “Bonk. Yer fucked now.” Copying the phrase used by the sinister CEOs made both women chuckle.
Quill died and became a ghost.
Even though she couldn’t see Quill, the warrior spoke to the air as he squatted and began looting Quill’s body. “Neat trick, huh? In town, we found out that you can’t go around killing people. You can only put their health down to half before the system senses it and sends guards to beat your ass and throw you in prison for a full day.”
The cleric rooted in Quill’s pockets. “Real time, too. It sucked.”
“You can do whatever you want as long as you don’t hurt them too bad. Still, when you hit as hard as I do, it’s easy to kill. But here, outside the city, it don’t matter what you do to people. It’s not a safe zone.”
The cleric pulled Quill’s backpack off, giving it an appreciative nod. “Yep. PvP zoning only applies between factions. So the guys from the other city can’t come over here and do anything to you, but there’s nothing stopping us.”
“And it means free coin.”
“And a backpack!” The cleric put it on. “Wow. Did he make this by hand? So much better. Girl, we gotta get you one of these.”
They took his pack, his money, his food, and even his weapon. Even his Adventuring guide and those mysterious pages he’d picked up. They left him with nothing.
The cleric held his mace up in one hand and hers in the other. “Hey, what d’you think? Dual wielding tank-healer?”
“Nice. Or just sell it.”
“Yeah.” She took a couple of very awkward experimental swings. “I think you have to have a skill for this. Otherwise, holy confusing.”
The warrior rose and turned away from Quill’s corpse. “Let’s gank a few more dumbasses. Then I’ll buy one.”
They walked away, looking pleased with themselves.
The warrior did a little fist pump. “This is so much more fun than real life.”
The cleric mock-breathed deep and sighed. “The profits may be small right now, but it’s the simple joys in life that make it worthwhile, you know?”
“Yeah. Like absolutely owning jerk-faced guys. This here, this is payback for every single whiny, insulting, ass-hat guy who bad-mouthed me for being a girl gamer. Time to show them what’s what.” She shouted with exultation, “Woo! The life of the righteous.”
“Who said a death game can’t be a good time, hey?”
Their merry voices faded in the distance.
Quill still stood there, disconsolately over his body. The countdown timer was ticking away. In…thirty-one seconds, he’d automatically resurrect. He could push the button, but…why? Why bother? So someone else could rob him?
So much for this being a fantasy world. It was just as lousy as the real one.
Maybe he should just give up. He was never going to be any help to Jane, just an embarrassment. Sure, they’d adventure together for the first while. Maybe pass the level ten region as a party. Maybe the next region. But at some point, her patience would wear thin. They’d start adventuring separately. He’d grind low-level monsters while she took off to grind dungeons with better players to get better gear. The gap between her and him would just get wider and wider.
Was the struggle even worth it? Life sucked. People sucked. What was he even fighting for?
Male
36
QUILL KRAU
Class NONE, Level 1
STR
1
STATUS
DEX
3
Currently feeling lost and angry.
HEA
7
SKILLS
INT
2
WIS
17
ITEMS
STA
14
CHA
11
Female
26
JANE EULA
Class NONE, Level 4
STR
6
STATUS
DEX
11
Currently feeling betrayed.
HEA
19
SKILLS
INT
18
WIS
18
ITEMS
STA
2
Gilded Armour of the Nature Goddess (unique); knife; staff (common)
CHA
5