Ben was in a prison cell. A typical D&D prison cell, which came with all the regular perks a first-level character could expect from such a starting point: an awful smell and an immediate feeling of doom and hopelessness. It wasn't the first time Ben started an adventure in jail, but it was definitely the first time he was experiencing it in VR settings - and he was both thrilled and anxious as he looked around him.

He was sitting on a dirty mat, his back to a cold stone wall, looking at a small cell that was dimly illuminated by a lone oil lamp that hung above him. Next to his mat was a small bowl with a chunk of meat that Ben knew was rotten without even smelling it, and next to that was another bowl, this one with what could only be human excrement. Ben wrinkled his nose in disgust, looking on. There were patches of blood on the stone floor - of course there would be - and the iron bars of the cell looked rusty.

On the other side of the cell was another mat - and it too was occupied.

Ben recognized the dark-skinned man who sat there as one of the seven that were with him around the floating table. He seemed a few years older than Ben, with rich black hair and muscular shoulders. His attire was that of a young noble swordsman; a white and red outfit, complete with a cape, iron bracers and a fancy belt with a decorated scabbard. His face was haggard, rough, with dark stubble, high cheekbones, and a predatory gaze.

The man stood up. Ben, not wanting to remain at a disadvantage, quickly followed suit and scrambled to his feet. Inwardly he was still bewildered by the authenticity of the whole experience - he was actually there! Feeling the coldness, smelling the shit, noticing how his leg muscles stretched as he got up. The feeling was simply out of this world. Pun intended.

He thought about approaching and introducing himself, but the swordsman beat him to it - only he wasn't going for an introduction. Instead the man - who was a bit taller than Ben - twisted his lips and spat on the already filthy floor. "Just my luck, to be stuck in a cell with the noob," he muttered in a rough voice while reaching for the scabbard on his belt. Realizing it was empty, the man cursed. "And without my sword!"

Ben felt his face flush. He took a step forward, clenching his fists and trying to control his anger. The weaponless swordsman watched him with dark eyes, and Ben could feel some of his anger dissipate - there was a force in this man's stare; an almost palpable aura of command surrounded him, and Ben found himself swallowing hard, frozen in his tracks.

"You," Ben started but realized he was croaking and cleared his throat, trying to regain control. "You," he said again, steadier this time, "are just a noob as I am. Or do you want to tell me you started this adventure at a higher level than one?" Actually, Ben had no idea if players could or could not start adventuring at higher levels, but Raxlon said it was a beginners' quest so he assumed it was a safe bet.

The man looked at him for a long moment. Then his upper lip curled, and suddenly he gave a short bark that could pass as laughter. "You got it right, skin," he said in a somewhat southern accent. "We're just two noobs in a strange and frightening world, aren't we." He took the few remaining steps toward Ben and extended his hand. "Charlie's my RL name, but I'm known as 'The Red Mercenary' 'round these parts of the world. Or just Red for shorts"

Ben didn't miss the man's reference to his earlier unfortunate and naked appearance, but he was ready to put that slight aside for now. Charlie's - or rather, Red's - few words of introduction were enough to make him realize how little he really knew about this game. Ben had no character name, no background, nothing except his meager clothes and some basic notion of how VD was supposed to be like. Once again, he could blame only himself and the way he acquired his game unit. Then again, at least he had one.

He took the offered hand and shook it, immediately sensing the incredible strength the other man had, at least in comparison to him. "I am Ben," he said simply. Then, in sudden inspiration, he added: "both RL and here."

Red raised his eyebrows. "That so? Now that's a first." He took his hand back and gave Ben a studying look. "So. Is that some kind of disguise? This whole 'I'm so new and clueless and naked' act, how real is it? Cos' I must tell you, bro, you got me quite convinced."

Ben hesitated. Should he tell the truth? The answer was obvious: of course he shouldn't, and why would he even consider it? But despite that irrefutable logic, he found himself struggling against an urgent need to confide in this man. Red's dark eyes seemed to shine against the flickering oil lamp, and Ben knew right then and there that having such a formidable man as his companion could only bode well for his future.

"Well," he started, "actually I got this - "

"ADVENTURERS! HEAR MY WORDS!" The booming voice drowned whatever Ben was starting to explain, and both men looked around them in surprise. It was Raxlon's voice, and it appeared to come from everywhere. We're in God's presence, thought Ben, and he wasn't completely cynical.

"YOU HAVE BEEN CAUGHT BY THE LOCAL MILITIA, AFTER BREAKING THE CURFEW OF THE CITY OF SONADIN AND COMMITTING SERIOUS BLASPHEMOUS ACTS. YOUR WEAPONS HAVE BEEN CONFISCATED, AND COME THE MORNING, THE GUARDS PROMISED THERE WOULD BE A TRIAL TO DECIDE YOUR JUDGEMENT. THEY ALSO SAID THAT THE LORD SHOWS NO MERCY FOR STRANGERS THAT BREAK HIS LAWS, SO..."

Ben shared a knowing glance with Red. "So we'd better get the hell out of this cell before dawn," he whispered, and Red nodded with a grim smile.

"YOU SHOULD ALSO KNOW," added Raxlon, "THAT DAWN IS ONLY MINUTES AWAY." The evil tone of the DM's voice was unmistakable this time, and Ben shuddered. He remembered the stories about Raxlon - no easy beginnings, tough villains, little to no mercy... but all the stories also said that winning his quests was highly rewarding.

They waited for a few more seconds, but it seemed the Dungeon Master had nothing more to say. Ben was about to ask Red what they should do now, but the mercenary was staring into nothing, as if lost in a world of his own. Ben shrugged. He wasn't about to stay idle - not if they had only a few minutes until the guards came.

He went over to the cell's door and gave it an experimental push, but it was locked fast. He examined the lock - a rusty thing, but heavy enough and he had no thieving tools, nor the knowledge of how to pick a lock - at least such a medieval, primitive lock. And here, he suddenly realized, was a major difference between other RPG games and this VR version. If he had been a first-level character in any other game, he could choose the rogue class, and thus would already possess the knowledge of picking simple locks. Here, it seemed, he had to actually know how to do it. And if he had a class, he had no idea what it was.

Red joined him by the door. "Can you pick that lock?" He inquired.

Ben shook his head. He gave his companion an appraising look, once again noticing his bulging muscles. "Can you break the bars?"

Red raised his eyebrows, looking doubtful. "I can try." The mercenary searched the bars for their rustiest point and grabbed with both hands. He took a deep breath, and then pulled with all his strength. The veins on his neck bulged, but to no avail - the bars groaned a bit, but it seemed it would take much more than a first-level character to break them.

Ben looked beyond the bars. A dark corridor stretched in both directions, poorly illuminated by a dying torch to each side. There were a few more cells he could see, but they were all empty. Think, he urged himself. You're in a game. A quest. There must be a solution to every situation.

He decided to search the cell. Turning away from the bars he started to feel the stone walls, working his way from the lowest brick to the highest point he could get to.

"Looking for secret doors?" Red's voice came from behind him. "Good thinking, skin. I'll try the other side."

Ben looked over his shoulder and saw the merc feeling his way along the other wall. He smiled to himself and continued to work along his own wall. The bricks were cold and rough, and he tried to find small holes or unnatural bulges - anything that could turn into a secret switch. Once again he marveled about the realism of this game. In other games he would just click on the wall, or tell his DM that he wanted to search for secret doors, but here he had to actually search.

"Nothing here," called Red, sounding dismayed. The swordless swordsman finished searching his side already, and now he was standing in the middle of the small cell, cleaning his hands against his pants. "Filthy place," he muttered.

Ben was only halfway through his own search. He always liked to be thorough, leaving nothing to chance. "Hey," he called out, "maybe you should check under the mats?"

Red hmmfed. "Sure. And what next? Spilling the shit on the floor so I could search the bowls?"

Actually Ben was about to suggest just that, but he chose to keep his mouth shut. Just then his finger came across something sharp embedded in the stone. He inhaled sharply, surprised by the sudden pain. Drawing his finger away from the wall, he saw a little droplet of blood blooming on his index finger. The pain was negligible, but it was real! He had wondered about it before logging in, and here was his answer - injuries in Raxlon's game were for real. Of course, it remained to be seen how real the pain would get if he suffered a worse injury than a tiny cut to this finger...

Ben bent to examine the thing that cut him. It was a small protrusion from the wall, and it was definitely not made of stone. Some kind of metal?

"I could use some more light," he said, and suddenly there was more light. He raised his eyebrows in surprise and saw Red was standing next to him, holding the lamp that previously hung from the wall. The mercenary smiled, his features looking a bit spooky as his face was just above the flickering light of the lamp. "You found something?"

Ben nodded. "I think. Hold on." He gently grabbed the iron protrusion with both fingers and tried to move it, thinking while he did it that it was a perfect spot for a poison dart - a trap that was highly favored by DMs across the globe. After a few tries, something clicked softly. Ben quickly moved his hand away, but no needle appeared to stab him. Instead, the whole brick suddenly shuddered and was pulled inward into the wall by some kind of mechanism. At the same moment, a prompt appeared in the upper left corner of his vision. He mentally clicked on it:

Well done! You have crossed the first threshold for a basic skill: Perception. This skill allows you to notice things around you. Isn't that fun? The higher the skill, the more things you can notice! Be advised - perception is not only about eyesight. All senses can be used in order to gain more skill levels. Associated ability: wisdom.

Next to that was another prompt:

Perception: level 11

You can notice things through all five senses, better than people that haven't crossed its threshold. Good for you.

Bonuses for crossing the first threshold (level 10):

Access to the sub-skill Identify.

10% more likely to discover hidden people and objects. Regular restrictions apply.

Bonus XP for crossing the 10th level threshold: 50. Current XP: 50. Points to next level: 950.

Ben felt a surge of pleasure as he dismissed the two prompts. A new skill! His gaming instincts kicked in, and suddenly he wondered where was all the other information he needed to know about his character. Where was his character sheet? His stats? His skills and powers? It was obvious by the description of his perception skill that the rules here were different from the ones he was used to in previous games, so he had to make it a top priority to discover how exactly things worked around here. In fact, maybe he should take a few moments right now to study the prompts and discover what he could about the game mechanics. Maybe he should -

"A secret niche!" said Red, interrupting his thoughts and crouching beside him. "Cool. What's inside?"

Ben came back to the situation at hand, promising himself to look for his stats at the first opportunity. The two men looked into the niche, examining it by the light of Red's lamp. As they saw what lay inside the secret alcove, both their faces cracked into big smiles almost at once: two daggers.

Ben focused on the blades, and another prompt appeared:

Crude Dagger: level 1

Damage: 1-3

A short rusty blade with a leather grip, this simple blade was made with no thought for design or quality. You can still stab someone to death with it, though.

Followed by another message:

Good job! You have discovered a new sub-skill: Identify. This skill branches off the basic skill Perception. It allows you to - you guessed it - identify objects and people. The higher the skill, the better your understanding of the object or person being identified. As this is a sub-skill of perception, raising this skill would also contribute to the progress of your perception skill (1 perception level per 2 identify levels). Associated ability: wisdom.

Identify: level 1

You can identify basic stuff, and learn the basic information about characters and non-player characters (NPCs) who don't have the proper protection.

Chance to identify objects: 100% if object is at the same level as you or lower. For every level higher than yours, -50% chance. Note: not all characteristics can be identified. Varies according to skill level and item level.

Chance to identity other characters' level, class, and race: 100% if character is at the same level as you or lower. For every level higher than yours, -50% chance.

Two new skills, and a weapon. Not a bad find! Ben grinned as he reached to take one of the daggers.

"Give it here," said Red, a hungry tone in his voice. Ben complied without thinking, handing it to the mercenary. He then reached for the other dagger, but froze. His new perception skill demanded his attention, and he realized he was hearing something: footsteps. However, it was a meager level 11 skill and by the time he heard the sounds it was obviously too late.

"You there! Step away from the wall!" A gruff voice came from behind.

Ben quickly grabbed the remaining dagger and spun on his heels, his heart pumping like crazy. Next to him Red was standing calmly, holding the lamp in his left hand and the dagger in his right - which was hidden behind his back. Ben felt a surge of envy - the other man seemed to be completely in control, even eager, whereas Ben was having a hard time thinking with the blood gushing in his veins. He quickly followed his companion's example and put the hand with the dagger behind his back, fervently hoping that the newcomers didn't see him brandishing it like an idiot.

Before them, behind the bars, stood two guards. They were large men, clad in green and black uniforms. Both were protected by leather armor and had the insignia of three golden trees patched on their chests. The insignia of Sonadin, Ben knew immediately, wondered how he knew it, but quickly dismissed the thought.

The first guard - a bearded fellow who was even bigger than Red - was holding a large sword, whereas the other guard, whose only unique feature was the way he was biting his lower lip with crooked teeth, was holding a little crossbow. A notched and ready crossbow, which was aimed directly at Red.

A blue text hovered in Ben's field of vision, and he read:

City Guard: level unknown

Race: human

Class: fighter

City Guard: level 1

Race: human

Class: fighter

Moving his eyes a bit, he also managed to analyze his companion:

The Red Mercenary: level 1

Race: human

Class: warrior

"I said, step away from the wall," repeated the sword wielder. "And put down that lamp. What are you trying to do with it, anyway?"

Ben saw Red changing the way he gripped the dagger, until he managed to tuck the small weapon inside his belt, hidden from the view of the two guards. Ben didn't have a belt - his clothes were nothing more than rags - and he realized that he had to do something fast, or be discovered. He decided to resort to one of the oldest tricks in the books, hoping he was deceptive enough, and that the guards weren't too bright.

Red crouched, putting the lamp on the floor and then rising slowly, his hands outstretched in a gesture of peace. "We were just, hmm - " he began, but stopped as Ben suddenly doubled over, coughing violently. The other three men looked as Ben fell to his knees - he made sure to hide the dagger beneath his legs - coughing and spitting.

"What's wrong with him?" asked the bearded guard with a frown.

There was a message hovering in the corner of Ben's view, something about a newfound bluff skill, but he willed it to vanish; no time for that now. Just play along, he thought, fervently hoping that his companion would understand his little scheme. Apparently the mercenary did, because he moved closer to him and looked angrily at the guards. "He's ill, you morons. Your damn food was spoiled. Quick, get him some water!" His voice carried the same tone of command, and the crossbow-man even started to move, but the other guard didn't appear to be convinced. "A moron, am I?" The leading guard took a step to the side, putting his sword in front of his body. "Tam, open this door. It seems our prisoners need to learn a little lesson before we take them to the lord."

The other guard - Tam - showed some more of his crooked teeth in what was obviously an attempt for an evil smile. He took out a keychain from his belt and started to unlock the door, all the while still holding his little crossbow with his other hand. Inside the cell, Ben was making a show of vomiting on the floor. Beside him, Red remained in a crouch, his hand once again wandering behind his back, where he gripped the dagger. "Ready...." he whispered.

Ben's own grip on his dagger was iron - he didn't think he could leave it even if he wanted - and he tried to imagine what would happen next. Should he jump on his feet as they came closer? Try and plunge the blade into the guard's neck? His leg? His belly? He felt cold sweat on his back. Could he really do it? Kill someone? He had to remind himself that it was a game, and these guards were nothing more than Raxlon's NPCs - they were not real, this cell wasn't real, and Ben was just sitting in his room right now with a VD unit attached to his bald head. Still... could he do it?

Tam opened the door, leaving the key inside the lock and stepping back to allow the sword-wielding guard to enter first. Then he followed behind, still grinning his ugly smile and once again aiming his crossbow. The leading guard came in but stopped two steps away from the prisoners. He gave Red an appraising look. "You're the one they call The Red Mercenary," he said. "I recognize you now." He paused as if to consider something, and finally nodded. "Our Lord would have a use for you. As for your friend... I don't think our Lord would appreciate us bringing him such a sickly creature." He moved a small step to the side, to clear a path for the crossbowman. "Tam, kill him."