AN: So, we return once again... to the legend. We are coming closer to the end of this current arc, about one or two more chapters. Plans for the future of this volume include a few chapters of interaction amongst the group, some non-mission stuff, the battle dome is finally visited, and then we enter the final arc of this volume... One some of you might find... Mega-interesting...

Others may be bored of course. lol.

Enjoy!

On a random note, I personally think most people from the Boston area are nice and friendly people. That is all.

Chapter 24: Friends from the North?

The grassland was beautiful to behold, but filled with biting insects and slithering serpents. On more than one occasion, Scott needed to hop away at the last moment when he came upon a snake hiding in the grass.

"So, this land that you come from. You said that it is far from here?" asked Saelil.

Scott slapped at a mosquito that decided to try slake its thirst on the side of his neck. He eyed the girl for a moment. There was something to be said for being completely devoid of a physical body. The insects could not bother her.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure you've never heard of it," he said.

She made a thoughtful humming noise, but did not ask for further information. At least not for a time. Eventually, her curiosity got the better of her. "What is this distant land called? I am quite knowledgeable regarding geography."

"America," said Scott simply.

Saelil tapped her chin lightly for a moment then pouted. "Is it a small nation?"

Scott laughed a little. "No, it's not small."

"Perhaps it is a young nation? I have been in the underworld for quite some time..."

"Well, I suppose it is relatively young as nations go," said Scott amiably.

"Ah! There we have the answer," she said, mollified by the answer.

Saelil danced around him in a circle while he walked, a happy smile on her lips. "One mystery solved!"

Scott could not help but laugh a little. She was far too excited about getting an answer out of him.

Time wore on. They eventually reached something new, and interesting.

"A road!" exclaimed Scott. Roads were good. Roads were some-thing that led to some-where.

"Yes! We have rediscovered civilization, beloved," said Saelil joyfully. She whirled around and danced along the roadside.

"You've been dancing a lot since we got out of the underworld," mentioned Scott.

"I enjoy my freedom to see the sun rise." Saelil smiled softly then hugged herself. "If only I could feel it on my skin..."

Scott blinked slowly as he took in the sight. While she was completely nude, he was able to ignore it, but now that she was partially covered he had to admit it. Saelil was quite attractive for a nigh-transparent ghost elf.

"Yes, sadly I can feel nothing on my skin... Neither the rays of the sun, nor the feel of dirt between my toes." she said once more, before releasing a soft sigh.

"Well, I'll help you feel it again," said Scott casually. Even he was not certain exactly what he meant by that. However, he did have a strange desire to say it.

Saelil gasped gently and placed her hands to her cheeks. "Goodness, beloved... I'm too innocent to be certain, but something about what you just said seems aggressive."

"If you were truly that innocent, it wouldn't seem aggressive," muttered Scott.

"What was that, dear one?" asked Saelil with a smile.

"Nevermind..." Scott eyed her carefully.

She hummed at him lightly then danced around a little. "Joyous is the sun and the blue sky above."

He watched for a moment then looked away. There was a choice to be made. He could not spend the entire day bearing witness to her glory.

Scott looked one way, and then the other. There were no apparently obvious signs of which path to take. Saelil would be unlikely to know any more about the surrounding area, since her geographic knowledge was no doubt vastly out of date. In the end, he shrugged then turned to the left. One way was as good as another when there was no clue where to go next.

They walked, and in one case danced, their way down the road for quite some time. The number of bugs attacking Scott slacked off, but every now and then one would bite or sting him with enough ferocity to make him cry out in annoyance then swat it.

Nothing existed for miles around save for grassland, a handful of trees, and the two fools who traveled the open road.

"Shit, I could use some baby powder or something," mumbled Scott as he felt himself beginning to chafe. Where were his hit points now? Why have they forsaken him?

Truthfully, he did have hit points, but not many. Without his true equipment, he was as prone to such things as anyone. His hit points were not high enough to completely rid him of common afflictions. They worked to reduce damage based on the number of them that he possessed, and several other variables.

The damage of simply living his life in a half-naked sense, began to build up over time. After walking most of the day, his feet began to blister. His thighs began to chafe. Sweat poured down his body, and the god damned flies would not stop biting everything that dangled luxuriously in their sight!

"Hey, what's that?" asked Scott, after another lengthy period of walking? Night was beginning to set in, but smoke was visible in the far distance even in the dimmer lighting.

"A campfire! Lovely, I do wonder if they will prove helpful," asked Saelil with a smile.

Scott glanced at her and then to the campfire. "Yeah, I wonder..."

In a perfect world, he would be able to sneak up on them safely to see what sort of people they were. Unfortunately, as they drew closer to the source of the smoke, the grassland decided to die away and give rise to flat land.

The tall grass was well away from the campsite, so much so, that it would be useless to try to watch the small humanoid blobs for long. "Shit, what is that a mile or more of no cover?"

"No cover?" asked Saelil. "Do you believe them to be bandits, beloved?"

"Would you like to risk ending up all the way back at the last obelisk?" asked Scott. "Think about what you're seeing out there."

Her eyes widened frightfully. "So, they are a danger? How can you tell?"

Could she really be this sheltered? Scott glanced at her briefly, incredulously, then looked back to the blobs in the distance. "Well, look at what they are doing."

"They are merely walking around. The pretty blond one with the blue eyes is singing a song. The big muscular one with the black hair and the scar on his chin is..."

"You can see all of that?" asked Scott, once again incredulous.

"Yes. Can you not?" asked Saelil, surprised. "They are not particularly far away."

Scott's eyesight was rendered perfect the moment his stats were corrected at the beginning of the game. Yet, his perfect human eyesight only saw vague blobs at this distance. As far as the blonde one singing, at most Scott heard the occasional hint of a sound. He was uncertain if it was from the camp, or merely an insect droning near his ear.

He pointed to the grass then bid her to enter it with him. Afterward, they remained hidden near the edge so that they could spy on the camp from a distance using Saelil's elven senses. It was strange that they remained despite no longer having a body, but why argue about it?

A few minutes later, her eyes widened. "Glorious!"

"What is it?" asked Scott.

"Oh, they appear to be allies of yours, perhaps even countrymen," said Saelil.

Scott's head snapped around toward her. "How do you know that?"

"Oh? I... Well, they are carrying on about how no one should mess with America. Though, they say the country name strangely. Also, the reason for them to keep referencing each other as infant goats eludes me," she said.

"What do they say exactly?" asked Scott quickly.

She approximated their movements by taking up a stance with her feet shoulder width apart. She lifted one hand up and shook her hand quickly while saying, "Dahn't mess with Ameahicah, kid."

"Shit!" snapped Scott. He dropped down as far as he could in the grass. "Worse than I thought..."

"Are they not your countrymen?" asked Saelil.

"If they're carrying on like that, they probably are," said Scott. "The problem is that they're also probably like me."

"Like you, beloved?" she asked, her expression warm and curious. "What do you mean?"

Scott frowned through the blades of grass. This was dangerous, quite dangerous. Would these guys be friend or foe? Were there special rules when he would come across others who played the game? Was there actually an America in this world? So many unanswered questions, and each one of them could lead to a death he could not recover from. Well, the latter question was more of a curiosity than a dire issue.

"Do they sound similar to me?" asked Scott.

Saelil tilted her head toward them for a moment then shook it slowly. "They seem to have a different accent. They speak a little more quickly in comparison and have a different inflection on their words. At times it almost sounds like a different language."

"So, probably from a city, and definitely not Southerners..." grumbled Scott. It was too much to hope that three random guys from the south would appear before him. If anything, it was surprising that three probable Americans appeared before him.

"Is it bad if they're not from the ...South?" she asked.

"Not necessarily, but I am," Scott sighed.

Saelil looked to her beloved, her lips lightly pressed to the left. "Something you aren't telling me?"

"Nah, nothing too important," said Scott. "I don't trust it, though."

It was too convenient, too random. What were the odds? Scott shook his head. It was obvious that the meeting was pre-arranged. The smart money was on skirting these guys entirely, and trying to work their way clear of them without them becoming aware of that fact.

The problem was two-fold, however. If he did that, he lost out on a major opportunity to learn more about this world's current nature, directions possibly, and whatever those guys might know about the game.

Scott rubbed his nose carefully and frowned. If he died he might respawn back at the obelisk. That should be the way the situation worked. However, he could not always rely on that. Also, that would suck a massive amount of big hairy balls.

"Saelil, can you make yourself transparent?" he asked after a moment.

"Possibly? I generally need to concentrate to remain fully visible anyway," she said.

"Would you please do so?" asked Scott.

"If you wish it, beloved..." she said, uncertain of his motivations. She pouted slightly then closed her eyes. A moment later she became indistinct to the point that she appeared as little more than a slight distortion in the air.

He questioned her regarding whether she would be able to become even less visible. After a moment it was revealed that if she did not move at all, even the minor distortion faded from sight.

"Stay behind me, and keep perfect time with my movements. Please. I don't want them to know you exist if we can help it," said Scott.

"Oh beloved! Are you trying to protect me?" she asked, before reappearing. Her eyes were wide and excited.

"Sure," said Scott in a flat tone of voice. "Let's go with that."

She laughed softly then faded away once more. "I'll wear you down, yet."

"Yeah, yeah. Victory shall be yours..." Scott turned away from her then said, "Quietly tell me what you see them doing as we move forward. If you see anything interesting beyond them, let me know."

"Of course." Saelil laughed softly once more.

They moved out of the grass and back onto the road. Saelil followed him as best she could without giving away her existence.

A few minutes later she spoke up quietly, "They've seen you, beloved."

"What are they saying?" he asked softly, his lips barely moving.

"They are mostly mentioning your presence. Something about being ready in case there's trouble," said Saelil.

After another few minutes, Scott's eyes began to focus on individual aspects of the blobs. Saelil kept him informed of what they said or did. She also mentioned that she could see the rudimentary beginnings of a village beyond them.

There was a hill blocking Scott's view until he was much closer. At that point, he could see the outline of houses against a wooded area in the distance.

"They've noticed that you aren't wearing any pants," said Saelil in a quieter voice. "They are laughing and pointing."

Scott pretended to yawn and said, "Thanks for letting me know," while his mouth was covered by his hand. Of course, by this point he could see what they were doing.

"Well, hahwahya! Looks like someone put ya throwh tha ringah," said the big black haired man.

"Yeah, been a rough few days," said Scott while effecting a pleasant smile.

"Looking tah head down tah the villhahge?" asked the man in a rapid pace.

"I was just passing through, yeah," said Scott with a casual smile.

The younger blond man smiled broadly, and then spoke quickly. "Well theah's nothin' theah. Whole tawn's toah up..."

Scott blinked. "Really? What happened?" he asked, after deciphering what sounded like a bad approximation of a Boston accent.

The other blond, a slender man with a stick, spoke up. "Yeah! Mahscannah's done it. He's a champ, too..." His accent was just as bad, like the Pepperidge farm man on crack. For the life of him, Scott had never heard a thicker Boston accent in his life. Where these people even for real?

Still, the words became easier to decipher as the men spoke. Rather, it seemed like they spoke the same, but Scott understood it more clearly. There was obviously something going on behind the scenes.

"Wicked!" cried the younger blond. "Owah luckah dayh."

Scott's eyes narrowed. This did not bode well at all, even if the accent seemed to disappear for the most part. Whatever translated languages for him to understand people properly, seemed to take accents into account as well.

Somehow, he could understand these men easier now. Though, that understanding did not leave him more comfortable in the slightest.

The black haired man grinned then looked at Scott. "You have no ideah how glad weah to see you."

"Why's that, sports fan?" asked Scott casually. The accent was nearly gone from the man's words now.

The big man drew a large two-handed sword from inventory. "Sorry, my sword's thirsty," said the man. Rather, he said, "Saweh, mahsawhd's thahsty," but the miracle of game translation rendered it into the normal intelligible speech of an actual human being.

It was weird to hear the man for Scott. He had a few family members who lived up north. They had a version of this accent in their voice. It was actually pleasant to hear them speak at times, sort of fun. These guys were just flat out irritating. Even the few people he'd spoken too from Boston did not have the accent to this extent.

"What exactly are you guys planning?" asked Scott, while trying to remain calm. Why would they just threaten him like this?

"Nothing personal, kid. We just need the points," said the younger blond. His accent slipping away completely. Though, in Scott's eyes it looked like his mouth moved slightly out of sync with his words. It was as though he were being live action dubbed into a language Scott could properly understand.

"Points?" asked Scott, casually.

"Come on, don't play dumb. You know you have to kill each other off to earn EXP to buy better gear, if we don't want to keep dying," said the black haired man.

Scott stared at him. "If you're like me, why not just finish your mission and buy stuff from your home point?"

The three men blinked then looked to each other. The black haired man asked, "What are you talking about? You completed the mission?"

"I've done a lot of missions... How are you even alive if you haven't done any?" asked Scott. "Didn't you run out of life span?"

"Oh, that...? No that's suspended while we're here," said the sword wielder. "Mission's tough so no one's beat it, yet..."

"What's your mission?" asked Scott.

The three men glanced at each other again then back to Scott. "Same as everyone's," said the black haired man.

"We have to get down into the underworld, find that burning heart thing, and take it to the town about two day's walk from here," said the swordsman while jerking his thumb in the direction that Scott and Saelil were originally going.

"I see. So you, what... plan to kill me instead of just hunting for EXP?" asked Scott calmly.

"Hunting? Are you kidding?" The black haired man stared at him like he was stupid. "You know damn well, it would take months to scrape up even a few hundred EXP doing that! With a one year deadline, and only one chance a month to end this... killing each other off is the only way to earn enough..."

Scott understand in that moment. This was their introductory mission! These poor bastards, and the others they killed were placed in this world setting from the start!

The difficulty was not that high in the overworld, but they were unable to increase their stats until they finished their mission. They needed to rely on equipment acquisition. The easy route, probably most successful route, was just to kill off the competition.

"I see, so you intend to kill me just to buy equipment?" asked Scott.

"Kid, it's not personal, but that's how it is," said the black haired man. "You gotta die, so we can get our points, and get out of this damned place."

"What's the going rate for murder?" asked Scott. "More to the point, you do realize that killing off the other players is putting our entire planet in jeopardy, right?"

"You haven't player killed, yet? How the hell are you not desiccated or dead?" asked the younger blond.

The way the younger man put that last bit, unnerved Scott. Desiccated or dead could only mean one thing. He could die for real in this world, and probably through the means these fine upstanding assholes wished to employ.

"Enough of this, just die already!" called out the black haired man. He swung his sword hard at Scott. His powerful frame gave rise to strong attack power, a force that had taken the lives of several players.

The trio was greatly surprised when their would-be prey casually deflected the strike with his shield, knocked the man off-balance then countered with an almost casual attack that tore through the man's leather armor like it was made of butter.

"David!" cried the younger brother, as blood spurted out of his elder brother's abdominal cavity in large volume.

The black haired man screamed in agony, but never had the chance to recover before Scott pressed his attack. He'd spent his time in deadly combat, and knew that it could cause mental issues. The home point helped him a great deal by resetting his chemical balance. Otherwise, he might be even more off in the head than he was now. These fuck nuggets, though, they murdered off the hope for their entire race because it was easier to just kill people than to come up with a better solution that took more effort.

Scott rammed his shield forward and then rocketed it upward to slam it into the big man's chin. David's head snapped back with great force and he fell limply to the ground. Blood poured from his mouth, his jaw broken by the power of the blow.

Would Scott have ended up like this? Would he have become a roadside murderer for a few points? It was possible, and he hated himself in that moment for realizing it. However, despite the brief instant of understanding, he did not falter in his determination.

His sword raced downward for the killing blow. Murderers and their backstories be damned. An entire planet, everyone and everything he ever knew, only continued to exist until the last champion fell. Killing each other off for points was the worst thing that could be done from that perspective.

"Frozen Hell!" screamed the blond man with the stick. His words were high-pitched, frantic.

Scott's instincts, honed by hundreds of little battles at this point, caused him to hurl himself forward into a barrel roll. A wave of breezing air blast through the area where he stood only a moment before. He continued to roll a few times then popped up like it was nothing.

"God dammit! How can he be so fast!" cried the staff wielder, as Scott's eyes oriented on him.

The younger blond tossed a bottle toward Scott, but instincts won out once more. He leapt away in time to avoid being barbecued by the sudden fiery eruption.

"Molotov cocktails, really?" asked Scott with a snort. "You assholes are so fucking lucky my gear was downgraded for this mission."

The younger, blond tossed another one, which Scott also dodged. However, just before he hit the ground, the mage went into action.

"Frozen hell!" cried the mage.

The wave of freezing air washed over Scott. The timing of the assault reduced his mobility, he was only fast enough to partially avoid the full strength of the blast. Ice coated his skin in various areas, slowing him down slightly and doing minor damage.

"That stings, you know," said Scott with a laugh. His regained hit points were no doubt used up completely to resist the icy attack, but it did not matter. The look of fear on the mage's face was enough to keep Scott warm at night. Hell yeah. Burn with envy and fear you pathetic murdering fucknut, thought Scott.

Molotov guy tossed a few more, and then while Scott as busy, he pulled out a monocle to look him over. Frozen hell guy used his power three more times to keep Scott at bay.

"Fucking ridiculous... Where's my gun when I need it?" asked Scott. His only abilities at the moment were melee or undead focused. Neither were useful against living people at a distance. He muttered unhappily about wanting to pop a few plasma rounds in their heads. For the moment, he had to settle for slowly making his way toward his opponents while the bastards kited him from a distance. The magic and the Molotovs would probably run out eventually, and then their asses would be his.

"Holy shit—" cried the Molotov guy. He was unable to finish his outcry as the mage lifted his hand high and cried out, "Return!"

The ring on the mage's finger flared brightly, and the trio disappeared within the span of less than a second.

Scott panted slightly and looked around. The asshole trio was gone, but reminders of the battle were clear. Frozen and fire blasted dirt were clear to see. Blood stained the earth where David fell.

"Damn... This... Damn..." said Scott. The first people he'd seen from his home world since this all began, and they turned out to be player killers. What were the odds? Worse, were most of the champions like this now?

"You were wonderful, beloved," said Saelil as she came out of hiding. "You showed those highwaymen the truth of your power!"

Scott looked at his ghostly elven cheerleader then smiled. "I suppose, so. I hate that it happened, though. If they were not killers, we could have shared tips and information."

Saelil nodded. "At least we know where we must go, however."

"We do?" asked Scott. Before she could answer, his eyes widened and he said, "Yeah, you're right. They probably needed to get your heart and take it to the town they mentioned... Though, what that once a month business meant, I don't know."

There was a lot that Scott did not know. However, he would need to keep on his guard for the remainder of this mission.

"Well, since we're here let's take all their stuff," said Scott cheerfully.

"Yes!" cried Saelil excitedly.

The camp was a bit lackluster as far as items went. There were a few bedrolls, a campfire, and various bits of food and clothing left in a bag. Nothing extremely useful, though Scott now had pants to wear. There were no stats attached to it.

He took a half-burnt piece of ham off of a skewer and delighted in its flavor when he ate it. "Yay, meat!"

"Yay!" exclaimed Saelil warmly.

"You are much more ...ah... jubilant, than you seemed at first," said Scott. Well, she was at least friendly once he kicked the snot out of her lich form, or whatever it was. Now she seemed like she needed pom-poms and spanky pants.

She merely smiled then whirled around in place once before sitting down near him. "I'm usually more reserved, true. However, just being here and witnessing the wonders of the world above once more has filled me with joy."

They chatted happily while Scott devoured his meaty spoils of war. There was no intention to stay at their current location for long. However, a brief rest and a meal was good.

Eventually, Scott stored what he could within his inventory then they headed out. What the town would hold for them, was anyone's guess. First, he would check the ruined village for potential supplies, however. There might even be some shoes available.