Yellow Vanguard Knight

The journey to Gruoch was uneventful, save for the aimless and sporadic rain that showered us along the way.

I expected to have encountered some unique beasts or exotic species, maybe just a group of bandits or something of the like. But there was nothing. The few creatures we passed were the woodland animals that lived in the Miodóg. Mostly birds, small critters, and deer.

As we galloped along, there was an unusually large stag that skirted along the edge of the road for a time, keeping pace with us. It had a reddish coat with white speckles throughout and a magnificent set of moss-covered antlers that branched out from its head. It seemed to be traveling alone. It moved alongside us for an hour or so before breaking away as we crossed the bridge over the river.

I absorbed everything with fascination. This land seemed almost magically infused with beauty. The immense forest we were moving through appeared to go on forever, with tall, elegant tree trunks filling the vast expanse of greenery. The leaves overhead canopied the road and continued into the distance of the path, creating a wonderfully cozy environment. In any direction I looked, the wilderness stretched out forever, like a never ending ocean of trees and grass.

Even being stuck behind the strange Shaman Berieal didn’t mute the effect of the environment. The Lochan would periodically look over his shoulder at me but not say anything.

Watch the road, will you?

We raced along the path, tramping through mud, muck, and mushy grass for almost two hours before Kellmen called the men to a halt. He held his hand up, and everyone slowed to a stop. Iam was posted up furthest away, his eyes searching up and down the road as if expecting something to attack.

“Alright, guys,” the Guildmaster said.

“Malicious Intent’s secondary Guild Hall is in Gruoch, so be on your guard for reciprocation considering Anubis spanked their dumb asses earlier.”

He removed a clinking pouch from his waist. Then he hefted the bag and tossed it to my loveable pup, who caught it deftly.

“Anubis, take Tibbets and get Master Vale some gear. Simple for now, ‘til we get a chance to see what he’s working with.”

Anubis beamed and looked over at me.

“Absolutely, Guildmaster!”

Tibbets, ever-smiling, nodded.

“You got anything in specific in mind, boss?”

Kellmen shook his head.

“Just get him enough to fill a couple of the gear slots, and maybe a decent weapon.” He winked at me.

“Oh, and meet us at The Anvilhead when you’re done.”

“On it, boss!” Tibbets said, and then lowered his eyes at Anubis.

“Race ya!” he shouted, and before Anubis could respond, he had spurred his pony at a run down the road ahead.

Anubis turned to look at me proudly and flicked his head after Tibbets.

“Watch me, Master Vale. I’m going to win.” He removed a handful of coins from the pouch and tossed the leather sack back to Kellmen, who refastened it to his belt.

All I wanted to do was tell him to stick close to me. I’d just found him, and I didn’t enjoy the thought of him racing off somewhere dangerous. I wanted to say no.

“Go get him, buddy,” I said instead.

Cool it, man. Don’t let your own anxiousness get the better of you.

Anubis shot off. I watched as his tiny black-and-white body bounced with the sway of the gallop before they disappeared beyond our line of sight into the trees. It appeared he may have been right, his pony was quick and was readily gaining on Tibbets’.

“So, are we not going into the town?” I asked.

Kellmen reigned his horse in and led it off to a smaller path through the trees that I hadn’t noticed before.

“We are going to go to the East Gate. It’s a bit more relaxed over there, and the guards are more willing to turn a blind eye for a couple of coins.” He saw my look and smiled sheepishly.

“Malicious Intent is the largest Guild in Gruoch, even if it’s just a satellite Hall. So if any of the guards let them know we are here, it’ll be annoying. I’d rather not give away our whereabouts.”

“Will Anubis and Tibbets be okay?” I asked, looking back nervously down the road where they’d disappeared.

“Don’t worry about them,” Berieal said, bumping me with his elbow, “Tibbets is an expert at being unnoticed, and Anubis has a very likable quality about him.” He attempted a wink, but his eyelid didn’t close all the way and just shuddered. It did not put me at ease. Then he dismounted.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“We can’t take the horses this way, so we will have to walk,” Kellmen said, dismounting as well.

“So what, are we just going to leave them?”

Berieal laughed.

“No.” He said simply, and then tugged on my sleeve.

“Get off.”

I rolled my eyes and slid down carefully. When I was on the ground, Berieal stepped up to his horse and patted it on the face.

“Bye-bye, Horsey.” He said, and the horse disappeared.

“What the hell?” I said and watched as the others did the same, their mounts seemingly evaporating.

“Mounts can be summoned and dismissed at will,” Kellmen said, flicking through his open Menu, “unless you’re in town or in a Red Zone.”

Then, realizing he’d need to educate me further, he continued. Iam and Berieal had begun moving down the narrow trail, much more relaxed than they were before.

“Red Zones are contested areas. Kind like a Player Versus Player territory. That’s why we had to leave them back aways when we first found you.”

“I see,” I said, “so this isn’t a Red Zone I take it?”

“No, it’s under the awning of Gruoch’s Settings. Certain cities, towns, and villages have different levels of protection for players. Gruoch is Green for all Levels since it’s a right outside of a starting zone and is one of the first towns that a lot of adventurers in the area go to.”

He made his way down the pathway, and I followed as well.

“So, there are some cities that are Red Zones?” I asked, pushing an overhanging branch out of my way. That idea was terrifying. The branch snapped back as I passed, and thankfully no one was behind me. It seemed physics still worked like usual here.

“Yes, but those are rare,” Kellmen said, using a small knife to cut some of the brush out of his way, “most larger cities are Yellow, meaning that players can participate in duels and contests within its confines, where they might be required to attack each other, but can’t outright kill. I imagine it’s also good, so you can’t get bloody revenge on a swindling shopkeeper.”

Kellmen stepped over a fallen log, and I also did, but I couldn’t help noticing how detailed it was. There was a myriad of bugs and worms crawling in the shadow of the downed tree, and I was tempted to pick them up just to see how they’d react. I considered that I might not ever get used to how strange everything felt.

“Of course, most Inns are safe houses,” Kellmen continued, “It’s the strict policy that no PVP combat can happen in the resting side of an Inn. That way, it’s unlikely you’ll get attacked in your sleep. However, if the Inn has a tavern, they might mix it up a little, because things can be rowdy.”

“So, you can’t get in a tavern brawl?” I asked, a little disappointed.

“Oh, you definitely can!” Berieal exclaimed, turning back to look at us.

“Yeah, most taverns are Orange Zones, so a lot of people use that to their advantage to settle disputes after a few drinks. You can bruise people up even draw a little blood, but it’s all part of non-lethal damage.”

“Cool!” I said. I liked the idea of the plucky group of adventurers being able to get in a considerable bar melee. It really resonated with my sense of fantasy. Everyone fell silent after that, perhaps lost in thought. I definitely was.

I couldn’t help but think about Lina. I was ashamed that I’d spent so much time absorbed in this new world and not being worried for her. What was wrong with me? I needed to stay focused on what was important.

Finding Lina.

Had she learned these rules? I was scared that she’d be attacked again. My anxiety started to raise its hackles again, and I endeavored to take deep breaths and try and calm down. My vision felt tight and narrow, my personal telltale sign of a panic attack.

I was damned if I did and damned if I didn’t. If I worried about Lina, I’d feel the intense heat of anxiety. If I allowed myself to not think about it, I would feel the weight of shame—which produced anxiety.

This is fucked.

There was no happy medium in this scenario.

I thought of Anubis and how happy he’d been to see me, grabbing me in his tiny hug, and I felt the panic subside slightly. I had to believe everything would be alright. I would find Lina. We would find Lina. Anubis and I together. That idea seemed to help quite a bit.

Please stay alive until then, Lina.

After another thirty minutes of walking, we reached a clearing, and as we stepped out of the trees, my breath caught in my throat.

Roughly a hundred feet from the path was a sloping green hill, a little overgrown but no less vibrant because of it. At the top of the wold was a thirty-foot wall made of yellow-white stone. It was cracked and worn but looked very sturdy. At its crest were the ramparts, decorated with red flags spaced every fifty feet or so along the wall’s length. The wall itself stretched a hundred feet in either direction before disappearing at a turn. Ruddy roofs peeked over the top, and I could see the steeple of a church in the distance, the tallest feature in the town by far.

To the right of us another eighty feet away was a muddy, fractured gate at the top of a slope of slippery, wet dirt. The entrance was defaced by muck and grime. The skeleton of a twisted and ruined tree was pressed into the clay of the tunnel within. The branches reached out in a death paw towards the top of the wall, and the roots were knotted and ghoulish things that crossed the threshold where people tripped over them.

A small train of armored men and women were making their way into the city, possessions piled high inside a wagon. A sentinel stood lazily, holding out her hand and accepted a cluster of papers. She scowled at the documents for less time than was likely needed, her other palm naked and open. One of the adventurers slipped a few glittering coins into her hand, and she immediately handed the papers back and waved them through, before resting her back against the arching wall.

Kellmen looked over at me, a knowing smile creeping across his face as if to say “see?”. I gave a stiff nod back, and the group of us trudged up the slope to meet the guard.

As we reached the gate, the sentinel lifted herself up languidly from her resting spot and sauntered out to block our passage.

“Papers?” She said, holding her hand out and wobbling slightly. It was clear from her manner and speech that she’d been drinking. Her face was red at the cheeks, and her eyelids were puffy from intoxication. Her eyes seemed to travel everywhere, with no particular location in mind. She was definitely someone comfortable with her role.

“We don’t have any papers, I’m afraid!” Kellmen said, reaching into the purse and retrieving some money.

“State your business then?” The sentinel slurred, her eyes catching the coin. She was suddenly the picture of attention.

“Adventurers,” Kellmen said simply and passed the woman two silver coins.

She inspected the gift in her hand and looked back up jerkily at Kellmen, then back to her palm. Then she slipped the coins into a satchel at her waist and waved us through.

I didn’t move at first, shocked that it had been so straightforward after the tense build-up.

“In ya go then,” she said, frowning at me, “or are planning to be out her come Solstice?”

“Thank you most kindly,” Berieal said quickly, ushering me passed and into the gateway.

The sentinel gave me a strange look as if trying to discern who I was, but two more armor-clad travelers arrived behind us, and she quickly turned to them.

“Papers?” Was the last thing I heard before the volume of the town drowned her out.

“Easy peasy,” Berieal said, still pushing me along.

“I got it!” I said and broke away from him and dusted myself off.

Berieal didn’t even react, he just continued through the portcullis and into the cobblestoned streets beyond.

While not exactly a large city, the town of Gruoch was nonetheless a bit overwhelming. Everywhere I looked, creatures of various races mulled about. A finely dressed Clurichaun in robes of lilac and a tall furry grey cap stood on a barrel behind the taper of a merchant’s counter, haggling with two human adventurers in shoddy armor. The gaggle of folk that had entered just before us were stopped in the middle of the road, arguing about something, two of them pointing in opposite directions. A few feet further, there was a young girl, about seven or eight, giggling as she darted between the legs of a Fomorian in a long red cloak and thin leather. She was human-like in presentation, but her cool-grey skin was rotting and looked almost dead, something I had not encountered yet. Kellmen explained that she was a Sluagh—a ghoulish Player race. Hot on her tail was a teenage human girl who seemed to be trying to catch her in some game. Many different people moved about, some seemingly lost, while others forged through pedestrians with purpose. It was vibrant and awe-inspiring to see this world at work.

A ragged-looking Sidhe woman in a tattered grey cowl and a spoiled and frayed tan dress approached us from the dimness of the alley to our left.

“Please,” she pleaded, reaching for none of us in particular, “do you have any coin to spare, kind adventurers?” Her voice was worn down as much as the rest of her. She had yellow skin, lined with age, her mouth was pulled into a frown, and her sad eyes were stained by forgotten tears.

I balked and took a step back as she passed me and dropped to her knees in front of Kellmen, grasping his royal blue cloak. The Guildmaster didn’t seem bothered, he just held her lightly by the arms, raising her to her feet.

“No need for that, ma’am,” he said, straightening the cloth of his outerwear and, for the third time I’d seen today, took money from his pouch. He placed a few silver in her frail hand and closed her fingers around it.

“Be well,” he said, “and blessings of Annan.”

“Blessings of Aós Dendhuallch og Món, Adventurer!” She cried back at him, her eyes welling up.

Kellmen moved past her, and she kept her fist tight, smiling. Iam walked past without a word, his white cloak fluttering in his wake. Berieal leaned close to the woman and whispered something in her ear. Her face lit up, and she nodded urgently back at him.

“Yes, thank you!” She said, grabbing his hand and closing her eyes. Berieal touched his necklace for a moment and spoke under his breath, then removed his hand and used it to raise his gnarled staff above her. As he finished muttering, the crook began to glow with a calm blue light that formed into a tiny orb. It fluttered over to the woman. The translucent shard of magick touched her brow before dissolving.

The vagabond’s expression became placid, and her eyes slowly opened to look right at Berieal. He withdrew a silver coin and gave it to her before following his Guildmaster.

I felt awkward. I had no money or even items or blessings to give the woman. So I just smiled.

“Good luck!” I said and hurried past, embarrassed.

I was almost a block away before a thought struck me.

Was that a Player?

I turned back to look over my shoulder, but by that time, she was gone. The thought was a bit unsettling. I didn’t know all the rules yet, but there seemed to be clear NPCs in this world.

Or were there? Everything definitely felt real. I’d need to treat everyone as though they were real just in case.

I raced to catch up with the group as they moved down the road, passed several vendors and shops with rickety wooden signs. I could smell freshly baked bread, the delicious odor wafting through the air, and felt my stomach rumble. The notification for my Stamina ignited, and I wondered numbly if it was possible to starve to death here.

Ultimate shitty death.

I followed my three new companions for a few blocks, and soon they had reached the vibrant town square.

Here, more people congregated, bobbing to and fro, going about their daily routine. In any direction I looked, there was the cluttered bedlam of player names and health bars, married together above heads. This was the central point for Gruoch’s market and artisans. Even now, I could see a line of stalls even more fully filled than on the streets outside of the East Gate. I heard vendors calling out for their wares while another cluster of people began summoning other adventurers to help them with a quest. A drunken Fomorian with a single horn was trying to climb on to his massive horse and failing miserably, his ankle caught and twisted in the stirrup.

There were several golden indicators spread throughout the market, floating above the heads of specific individuals with throngs of adventurers gathered around beneath, speaking excitedly with them.

Quest Givers.

I watched as two innocent-seeming human women in large wizard-style hats scurried off, whispering and leaning on one another. They laughed and high fived before disappearing into a shop with a large green potion bottle on its sign.

Above it all lorded a giant statue, depicting a bald Human warrior of some kind. The detail of the man was crafted quite marvelously out of marble. He had a ferocious scowl on his face and seemed to be reaching for a sword at his waist. As our group neared, I squinted to read the description plate fused to the base of the sculpture.

Shelor Mossbow - First Baron of Gruoch

134 HT - 199 HT

Chief Liberator of the Armies of the Blue Lord, Shelor was awarded the plot of land that would eventually become Gruoch as a thank you from the Blue Lord himself. Though he was slain in battle on his 65th birthday, Shelor lived a mostly quiet life after the Beinn Wars.

The lore of this place is pretty well fleshed out!

I wasn’t able to do much more examining because the party continued off to the down another side street. We drew near a grouping of tall, cozy, two-story buildings, and Kellmen slowed his gait. The roofs were brown, sloped slats that connected like fish scales. The timbers of the buildings’ frames were painted a dark grey while the primary color was an attractive eggshell white. The five structures were very similar in design, and it was likely the same person had built them all.

Kellmen stopped, examining one of them. The gently swaying marquee looked freshly painted and depicted an anvil, a stein, and a bed. It read The Anvilhead. I saw the notation in my vision that I could get more information from the sign, so I activated it with a finger.

The Anvilhead Inn [Business]

Owner: XheapSnake

Settled in the heart of the town of Gruoch, this quaint inn has a charming rustic feel while still offering access to the dynamic energy of the downtown area. Named after the famous Anvilhead ghost who haunted the forests near Gruoch many years ago. Oh yeah, and XheapSnake rules!

[More Information]

Great. If you own a business, you can author its description as well!

I clicked the prompt for additional stats, and a few more details became available.

Type: Hall

Created: Day 17 of the Month of Oak, 423 HT [01:51:32]

Durability: 1726/2000

Availability: Not for Sale

Very cool!

I’d need to keep a running tally of the different little intricacies of items in this world. It seemed that many things could be created by players. It was interesting that the structure had its own durability and even more impressive was how much it had been worn down since it’s construction.

But how long ago was that?

I had no idea yet what month or year it was here. I’d need to find a calendar, perhaps. I figured, based on precisely one bit of recent information, that it was sometime in the 400’s of HT.

...whatever that was.

“Hey, Nub, you coming?” Kellmen asked. He was holding the door open, and it looked as though Iam and Berieal had already entered.

“Yeah!” I said, closing out of the window and following inside.

A delightful combination of smells hit me as soon as I entered. It was the distinct scents of a stoked hearth, fresh laundry, and cooked meat. I felt my stomach rumble again, and I placed a hand down to quiet it. I watched as Iam and Berieal made their way into a secondary room, much larger and rowdier than the one I was in.

I stood in the foyer of the lovely little inn. A large polished wooden counter took up most of the available space in the cramped room. It was definitely intended as the check-in desk. The floor was made of scuffed grey stones, smoothed and roughly cut, and the space in between had been filled with red clay.

Behind the counter stood a green-scaled creature I hadn’t encountered yet. Resembling plant, humanoid, and some sort of lizard, they had a high brow with large human eyes—blue. Taller even than the Lochan, though not so tall as the Fomorian, they were built very daintily, fragile almost, with a broad face and pink petals hanging from the back of their jaw. There was a rise of breast underneath the innkeeper’s smock, though not knowing their race’s anatomy, I couldn’t discern their sex. The smooth face was a pale yellow, though the brow and temples were peppered with scales. Finally, at the crest of their head was a luminous shock of straw-colored...hair? It seemed a bit more resilient than Human hair, and it seemed to be made out of little antlers or thorns. Above the being’s head floated the description:

Seon

“Hello,” the creature said, smiling, “welcome to the Anvilhead!”

The voice was definitely feminine and had the lilt of a Scottish burr. The woman’s smile was quite enchanting as well. Her teeth were very human-ish, though she had several intermittent fangs.

“Uh, hello,” I said, looking at Kellmen. He nodded and stepped forward.

“Six to stay. What’s your largest room?” He said, already reaching for his money pouch.

“Four beds is our largest available, so sorry,” she said, with a bow of apology, “two rooms would be required to accommodate such a party size.”

Kellmen shrugged.

“Can’t be helped, I guess. Price?”

The innkeeper turned and pointed to a small wooden sign behind her that showed their pricing.

“One large room is three silver per night, and one medium room is two silver per night, though if you also plan to have supper here, I will discount to four silver total.” She smiled and curtsied politely. I couldn’t tell how old she was, but her voice sounded as though she was perhaps middle-aged—by human standards anyways.

“How much is a meal?” Kellmen asked, holding the pouch out but not opening it.

“The usual rate for a meal, per adventurer, is already discounted from five copper to four copper. But I am authorized to offer a price of three copper per meal, per adventurer, per night.” She smiled.

“Sold!” Kellmen said and slapped four silver down on the counter.

“Would you like to apply to receive a Guild discount for future stays?” She asked, reaching for two keys on the wall. I could see dozens of other identical keys hanging on hooks.

“No, thanks,” Kellmen said, “we won’t be here often.”

“Very well,” she stated, handing him the keys, “rooms Two and Fifteen. Room Two is on the first floor and has two beds. Room Fifteen is on the second floor and has four beds. Dinner is available after five evening bells, breakfast after five morning bells. My name is Seon. Please let me know if you need anything else.”

“Thank you!” Kellmen said and slung his arm over my shoulder.

“Let’s grab a quick drink before Iam, and Berieal get obliterated, shall we?”

“Hell yes,” I said, then considered a question. It seemed like the most opportune time to learn information.

“What kind of race is she?” I asked, nodding back toward the innkeeper.

“Oh,” Kellmen said, smiling, “she’s an Olpheist. Some people call them plant dragons because of their skin. They’re a very practical ilk with a penchant for building value. You see a lot of them as merchants or innkeepers like her. NPC Race only. You’re never going to feel better about getting ripped off than when dealing with an Olpheist.”

“So, that’s an NPC?” I asked, looking back over my shoulder at the innkeeper. She was tidying up some paperwork at the desk in a relaxed manner.

“Yeah. You can’t select the Olpheist race at the start, so it stands to reason they’re Non-Player Characters. There are several unique races that I imagine would be fun to utilize the skills of.”

“Oh.,” I said. I didn’t think now was the time to reveal that I hadn’t chosen a race when I arrived.

“But wasn’t that a good deal she gave us?” I asked.

“At face value, but they have already inflated the rates for the rooms, and I’m sure the food is little better than slop, only worth a copper at best. Plus,” he said, releasing me, “we still have to pay for our meals. So they can plan on losing one silver if they figure six big, strapping adventurers like ourselves are going to eat and drink in their tavern.”

“Seems more like just good business rather than a scam,” I said, walking down the hallway to the adjoining room. I could hear the slam of steins and loud laughter.

“You haven’t tasted the ale yet,” Kellmen said with a wink.

And so we made our merry way into the tavern side of the Anvilhead.

A fifty-foot by thirty-foot room greeted us as we entered, one wall entirely controlled by the dark wood of the bar. Many thick timbers crossed the surprisingly low ceiling supported by large columns of beams in strategic places throughout the room. Because of the height, the area had a cramped-yet-cozy vibe about it.

Various adventurers filled the benches of the six long, beer hall-style tables, drinking and laughing and arguing passionately. It was impossible to tell who was an adventurer and who was an NPC I was realizing.

A surly-looking, grey-skinned creature stood behind the counter, polishing mugs with a contemptuous scowl. A Sluagh. I recognized the telltale rotting elements of their race now. He didn’t regard us as we entered, preferring instead to stare at a commotion at the table in front of him.

As I made my way further into the room, I realized that the bartender had a golden indicator above his head that had been hidden from my view by one of the low beams. But now wasn’t the time to pursue a Quest, especially knowing nothing about how this world worked.

Come back to it later.

Torches lined the walls as there were no windows to be found in this room. They burned greasily in their sconces, grimy smoke billowing up to the ceiling and hovering there.

“Must’ve built the ceilings too low,” Kellmen said, seeing my stare, “usually the smoke disperses after fifteen feet.”

“Anything to save a buck,” I ventured. I chose a seat at the table where Berieal was sitting. The Shaman was drinking sloppily from a horn that was strapped to his shoulder, three full tankards sitting in front of him.

“Hey, thanks, man,” I said, reaching for one of the vessels, “I’ll get the next round!”

Berieal smacked my hand with his elbow, spilling the horn’s contents all over me.

“That’s not for you.” He said, and then went back to drinking from the dregs of the horn.

“Oh,” I said, looking at Kellmen. The blue warrior was stifling a laugh and grabbed one of the tankards and slid it toward me. Berieal didn’t even react to his Guildmaster, so I accepted it gratefully as he annexed one for himself as well. I took a tentative sip.

Holy shit!

The drink was strong! I coughed, and Berieal and Kellmen started laughing.

You have unlocked your first Social Skill!

You have unlocked [Teetotalling]!

You’re new to the world of alcohol and its consumption. It can be a fun time, but make sure you imbibe responsibly! Overindulgence can lead to negative attributes to other skills! You might find yourself feeling confident or exceptionally handsome, but these side effects will fade with an antidote or rest. Sláinte!

What in the actual fuck? I am going to get so drunk, so very fast.

I had a quick flashback to high school and hurling up a bright purple liquid into a cornfield. I made up my mind to absolutely not make a fool of myself like that again.

“Aww, our boy’s first adult beverage,” Berieal said. He finished his horn and placed it upside-down on the tabletop, and began drinking from the remaining tankard.

Iam was a grim specter at the end of our table. Quietly sipping from his own cup, a foamy, dark beer left residue under his nose as he pulled his lips away. His eyes found mine staring back at him, and he harrumphed and turned so that I couldn’t watch him.

“So,” I said, trying to get a feel for my new friends, “how long have you guys all been here?”

“Long enough,” Iam said, still not facing me.

“I have been here a long time,” Berieal said, his eyes wandering around the tavern from behind his mug, “I was in the First Wave. So perhaps a little over three years?”

“I’ve been here about two years--same with Iam, we started in the same wave,” Kellmen said, nodding his head in agreement with Berieal.

“Waves?” I asked. I felt as though I would be continually learning some new and perplexing element of this world forever.

“Each new batch of Noobs typically come in the same twenty-four-hour window,” Kellmen explained, “no one knows how or why, it’s just how it’s been. There will be a few months in between each Wave, but everyone from each batch is usually present within a day of the first one arriving.”

Did anyone else come by rift?

The impression I had been given so far was that my arrival was anything but usual.

“So that’s how it works for everyone? They all arrive on a Wave?” I asked.

“Not always, but yeah, usually. You’ll have the occasional outlier like you, or Anubis. But that’s very rare.”

My heart did a sommersault. If some didn’t arrive on Waves, more than just Anubis and I, then perhaps they would be who I would want to talk to. It also seemed like it was enough of a rarity that people might know about Lina!

“Have you guys heard of a player named Lina?” I asked, focusing on Kellmen.

He shrugged.

“No clue,” he said, and looked at Berieal.

“I know an Arcturus…?” Berieal offered, rattling his necklace.

“What a fucking useless suggestion,” Iam grumbled, finishing his drink and holding up a single finger to the barkeep. The Sluagh nodded and turned, filling a fresh tankard with beer from the tap of a massive barrel behind the bar.

“What’s Lina’s race?” Iam asked me, suddenly interested in what I had to say for the first time.

“Uh, I dunno, maybe—“

“What about Class?” He interjected again.

“Not sure, she’s—“

“Anything other than her name that you know?” He asked, roughly, losing his patience with me.

“Not here,” I said, “I haven’t seen her since—“

“How can you not know anything about her? Was this someone you met from a letter?”

He said that last part so scathingly that it stung.

“Easy, Iam,” Kellmen warned, giving the Sidhe a look, “why don’t we hear him out so he can more fully elucidate us?”

Iam snorted and turned as the bartender approached, another mug of beer sloshing in his meaty hands. The pink-skinned Sidhe traded him two coppers and started drinking immediately, taking a long draught of the contents.

I took a breath and leaned forward. I wasn’t sure how much I should tell them.

“Lina is from the same place as me,” I said simply.

“Like a starting area?” Kellmen asked, intrigued.

“No, like, a whole different world.”

Silence. My three companions looked at me seriously, making me feel quite uncomfortable. The pause went on for a few moments before Kellmen finally smiled.

“So, Anubis was telling the truth,” he said, breaking the tension.

Berieal leaned forward conspiratorially and leaned his chin on his laced fingers.

“Tell. Me. More,” he said.

“Alright well-“ I started, but felt someone slam into me.

There was a sharp pinch in my lips and gums, as I hit the rim of the stein I was drinking from, the contents splashing everywhere.

A couple of the rowdy patrons behind me had gotten into a scuffle and had begun shoving one another. The stein was empty. My lip was throbbing, and as I looked down at my ale-soaked pants, I saw a bead of red blood drop.

Orange Zone.

I slid out of the way as a human adventurer fell, hitting his head on the bench where I’d been.

Kaegaen Marsh

I saw his name floating above him as he fell. He let out a loud yowl and held his forehead in his hands as he lay on the rough stone of the tavern floor.

Blows were exchanged. More of the patrons were getting involved. A plate of apples that had been sitting on the tabletop was launched into the back of the tavern. Someone got hit and started cursing. More angry oaths and people getting aggressive.

Then the bar erupted into chaos.

I climbed on to the tabletop and found that Berieal had done likewise, as we were both within firing range of whoever was launching apples. A Clurichaun warrior named Eike, crunched his mailed fist into Princegar Holdbow—a skinny Fomorian with an unprotected face, knocking him backward and onto the floor. Then Tant—a dark-socketed Sidhe with a broadsword on his back tripped over him and fell.

A human leaped through the air, her long blonde ponytail flapping in the wake of her propulsion and kicked the Clurichaun warrior in the chest. He flew back and slammed against the far wall. His head cracked against the stone, and he was out. Wolfspur, the human, then dashed off toward another group, a maniacal grin on her face.

A stein was thrown, hitting Kellmen in the chest, the liquid drenching him and Iam. They stood, almost in unison. Instantly, they too had joined the fray, punching and kicking their way into the insanity. They were blurs of blue and white as they struck out with a strange, disconnected glee at the various brawlers.

Even the bartender was getting in on the action. The stout Sluagh was standing on the bar top, swatting anyone who came too close with a large metal serving tray. He seemed occupied explicitly with keeping people from damaging anything behind the counter.

I watched as Berieal wiped his mouth and stood up, grasping the edge of one of the low ceiling beams and pulled himself up into the rafters.

I climbed under the table and out through a space between two battling Fomorians, punching one another brutally as they both lie on the floor. All around me, things were being broken, and people were being thrown around and attacked. I crawled toward the open door leading to the hallway. I didn’t think it’d be a good idea to participate in even non-lethal combat until I knew what I was capable of.

As I reached the other side of the room, I turned and saw Berieal. The Lochan was relaxing on the crossbeam, his legs stretched out from beneath his cloak, his arm supporting his head as he casually drank from a tankard.

“Oh! That was a good one!” Berieal said enthusiastically as one fighter punched another right below him.

I heard a shuffle behind me and turned. Seon, the Olpheist innkeeper, stood there, an intrigued look on her face. She was carrying a basket of herbs in her arms, and she smiled a little and rolled her eyes as the chaos unfolded inside the tavern.

“Sorry about this,” I said, awkwardly, “it really seems to have gotten out of hand.”

“Oh, is this your doing?” she asked, setting the basket down at her feet, “you didn’t strike me as a trouble maker.”

“Oh, no,” I said, shaking my head, “I didn’t have anything to do with this at all. I just wanted to get outta there. Which is why I’m standing bravely in the hallway.”

Seon regarded me politely, tilting her head and flashing her charming smile.

“Then why are you apologizing, if you did nothing wrong?”

I cringed inwardly and felt the white-hot pang of embarrassment fill me.

“Oh, uh, I dunno,” I said, stumbling for words, “that’s just something I do.”

“A guilty conscience then?” Seon said. She reached into her basket and removed a small green and purple plant. She opened her menu, and after selecting an option, the plant disappeared with a flourish of magical clustering light. In its place was a tiny green vial.

“Here,” she said, handing the bottle to me, “it won’t cure your self-condemnation, but it will heal your lip.”

I accepted the item, and gave her a very pinched and shameful smile.

“Thank you, Seon,” I said, and I activated the item. It worked immediately, the throbbing fading from my face.

“You’re welcome, Adventurer,” she said cordially, picking up the basket and turning back down the hallway and disappearing around the corner.

The fight lasted for just another minute before everyone seemed to calm down and return to their previous business of drinking, eating, and joking. Kellmen and Iam both returned to our table, where an elated Berieal was just dropping back down. The Lochan excitedly offered his encouragement to his two companions. The Guildmaster seemed satisfied with the results, an exhausted energy emanating from him. The Sidhe, on the other hand, looked almost pleased. His posture was relaxed, a mild swagger in his stride as he sat down gracefully at the end of the bench. I wasn’t sure, but I thought I could just make out a smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

Kellmen looked around the area for a moment, and when he spotted me, his smile grew, and he beckoned me over. Berieal was lying on the bar top again as I approached, unaffected by what had transpired. I was learning that Berieal seemed to be on his own plane of existence.

“Did you get any licks in?” Kellmen asked, handing me another full stein. His face had a couple of purple bruises growing on it, and his health bar had lost a few notches. I couldn’t see his percentage, but the bar was a lot longer than my own.

I took a drink and shook my head in response to his question.

“Nah, I was too busy cowering in fear,” I joked.

“I’ve got to piss,” Iam said and stood up and walked toward the door at the far side of the room. He turned right, down the hallway opposite the foyer. Berieal hopped up as well, bouncing down to the floor from his tabletop perch.

“That’s my cue for Ritual Meditation,” he said and went through the doorway as well, turning left. Faintly I heard him greet the innkeeper with a loud, “howdy!”.

Kellmen chuckled and sighed.

“I know you’re going to ask, so I’ll just tell you: Shaman need to meditate every evening to have access to their fey magick the following day.”

I nodded.

“That makes sense. Seems a bit time consuming, though.”

“It is, but it’s worth it,” Kellmen said, “that dude there can create a lot of carnage if necessary. He and Iam are serious powerhouses when it comes to Raids and Dungeoneering. We got to B Rank specifically because they had to duo The Yellow Vanguard Knight boss in the Uamh Fala.”

I looked back at the empty doorway where the two had disappeared into.

“How did that come about?” I asked. I would use any opportunity to learn about this world.

“Well, gimme a sec, and I’ll tell you,” Kellmen said, finishing his drink and raising a single digit to the bartender. He paused and looked at my near-empty mug and then raised a second finger. I didn’t want to admit it, but I was feeling a bit buzzed. I was still feeling those intense hunger pains and the reminder from my vision that I needed to eat.

When was dinner again?

When the Sluagh approached with our drinks, Kellmen handed him more coins from his pouch and nodded at the man. He gratefully nodded back and hurried back to the bar.

“So,” Kellmen said, turning to face me, “where was I?”

“Yellow Vanguard Knight,” I stated.

“Yep,” he said and took a drink before wincing, “this is not the same drink.” I hadn’t noticed, they all tasted like gasoline to me.

“Anyway,” he started again, leaning forward.

“Uamh Fala. It was a secret dungeon that had shown up in quests for Level Tens and higher traveling on the Catspaw Trail from Drich Kel to Caraig Abhainn. A little old man would run up and tell you he saw a tremendous, horned flying beast pass overhead a few days beforehand. Anyways, it activated the Quest Logs, and a bunch of higher levels went out looking for it. After almost two weeks, some chick from the Hell Razors Guild stumbled on the entrance while grinding.

So she got the Experience for the first-time discovery and was able to see that it was a Skully Dungeon. She got down as far as she could, finding some neat little lore nuggets before she was killed. She respawned outside the Dungeon and ran to let her other guildies know about it. Still, Hell Razors are only a D Rank with just a couple members able to handle big shit. So they knew they’d have to get some flavor in their mix to explore the Dungeon.

Now, Hell Razors are good guys, for the most part. They haven’t really dialed in on what they want to be good at, so they are kind of all over the place. One of my buddies— Tuuvalu, is their third-in-command and told me they were looking for a big Raiding Party to take out the rumored big bad at the end. Someone the lore kept referring to as the Yellow Vanguard Knight. It sounded fun and difficult, so I told him we’d get a good team together and join up with them.

But of course, no one can keep a secret here, and somehow Malicious Intent and the Holy Scubs found out! So, when our party shows up at the Dungeon, both guilds are already there and they are blocking our way in. We didn’t see any of their higher-ranked members, so we already knew that the rest of these guys were there to just keep us busy while their stronger members tackled the Dungeon itself.

So this is bad, right? If we fight them head-on, we use up time and energy and spells and everything trying to get through. We knew we’d need to be at full rest to take on the Vanguard Knight. Stupid, right?

Well, Berieal gets this genius idea to sneak around the guys blocking our path while leaving the bulk of our forces out in front as a distraction. We only took ten of us, the five highest levels from each guild. Tibbets cast Nightstep one at a time on each of us and offered to hang back with the main group to keep their eyes on him. He’s good at that. Malicious Intent and Holy Scubs sort of messed up there in their plan. Nightstep is such a high-level spell that none of the low-tier guys would be able to detect it. It was easy as hell to bypass them.

So slowly, we go one at a time and reconvene inside the Dungeon. We follow the instructions we’d gotten from the Hell Razor guildie who was there already and somehow didn’t encounter the other Raid Party at all! A lucky break considering what was to come.

We find the door to the boss’ lair and prepare ourselves. We can tell it’s pitch dark inside, so we get ready to cast some magick that makes light.

The minute we enter, the door seals behind us, torches roar to life, and a loud cackling echoes off the walls. In the back of this massive cavern is a twisting and squirming giant in rusty yellow armor. Only his head, torso, and one arm are visible, and he thrashes around as it looks like he’s partially sealed into the cavern wall. He was roughly twenty feet tall all together, and his arm reached out another twenty. Scary as hell. It was a for-real nightmare.

Well, he sends out a few mobs of creatures, and we make short work of them, but it’s been tiring, and there’s been a lot of these creatures. Feychildren and goblins and faeries. Once they are gone, the YVK starts shaking and swiping at us. He’s also got a fey shield up that’s only able to be breached by fire magick. This is a bummer because we have no one who specializes in fire magick, and Tuuvalu is the only person with any fire magick at all. So he’s casting Firemark, a Level One fire spell that can get past the shield, while the rest of us try to attack the boss’ arm anytime it leaves the safety of the barrier to attack us. When that would happen, the Feychildren and faerie mobs would attack whoever was attacking the arm until they were killed.

Then he takes me out. I’m the Guildmaster, and I’m the first one to go down in the fight. Dead. Not my proudest moment, but I’d had Tether activated, so I could still see what was going on around me.

Slowly, the YVK starts whittling down our numbers until it’s just Berieal and Iam left.

I can hear Iam cursing but in good humor, using every opportunity to attack the YVK’s arm anytime it left the safety barrier. Berieal is playing it safe and skirting near the back wall. He is staying out of range of the Knight’s swipe while also targeting the mobs with lower-level spells, getting rid of the others, but leave the goblins for Iam. Goblins are the stupidest mob because they will act on their own a lot, and attack whatever they want, with whatever little spells and weapons they have. I can see that some of them are running around in circles and into the wall before Iam destroys them.

At that point, I’m thinking we’ve lost the Dungeon, because the boss still has a quarter of his HP, and there was no way Intent or the Scubs weren’t going to eventually find the boss before we could get back there. So I’m watching and trying to strategize on how he attacks, when he attacks, cooldown time— that sort of thing. It’s kind of hard to do mid-battle when you’ve never fought something before, so if nothing else, it is suitable for if we were to get another shot to take him down.

With no other distractions, I notice there’s a one-second delay when YVK casts his mob spell where his shield goes down behind him, leaving most of his back and neck exposed. When you’re dead, you can’t communicate for the whole six hours it lasts, so I was resigned to just patiently take mental notes and wait to respawn. But that’s when I realized something. The Shield value on the Knight’s barrier was almost gone! I couldn’t figure out how that was possible.

Then I saw it. As the Knight cast his mob spell and his shield went down partially behind him, Berieal was casting Ice Lure! When the shield would go back up, the spell was still glimmering underneath the barrier. Then I watched as Berieal wiped out all but the goblins again. But this time I saw that those goblins that had looked to be running in circles were actually turning to defend their boss from the Ice Lure. With fire magick.

They would cast their paltry fire spells, attempting to hit the lure and just hit the shield instead because goblins are, of course, stupid as hell. The Ice Lure only lasted for ten seconds before dispersing, so Berieal had a very narrow window of time to act to wear down the shield. He knew that if he didn’t kill the feychildren and faeries immediately, that they would attack the source of the spell, AKA him. But goblins, they will attack the spell itself.

Did I mention that goblins are stupid?

It only took one more mob to get rid of the shield, and when it went down, Iam tore the YVK a new asshole while Berieal spent the remainder of his spells healing and buffing Iam.

When the boss went down, both Iam and Berieal earned a shit-ton of coin and Experience and got a few sweet, rare items to boot! Most of the gang hadn’t seen what went down, but I had. Berieal is a strange guy, but he’s a very talented strategist. He spends the majority of his coin on books that other players have written about the world and its monsters, and pores over them religiously.”

As Kellmen finished telling the tale, I realized my mouth was hanging open, dry as a bone. I had been so captivated by the story that I’d forgotten to drink from my mug. I quickly took a draught and found that the contents had gone flat and warm.

Yuck!

“You want to know the most impressive part?” Kellmen asked. He had not neglected his drink and was at the bottom of it, his speech a bit slurred toward the end of the story.

“Absolutely,” I said, nodding enthusiastically.

“Ice Lure has a two-point-five second cast time,” he smiled proudly and shook his head in disbelief, “which means Berieal would have had to start casting the spell before the shield went down. So there had been some other tell from the monster that no one else had seen. No one except Berieal.”

I was astonished that such an odd individual was capable of that much insight into a situation— enough to make split-second decisions from a first-time fight. I hadn’t known him long, but he didn’t strike me as being perceptive at all.

Will wonders never cease?

Iam hadn’t returned from his potty break, so I prodded Kellmen more.

“I suppose ‘take a piss’ is a euphemism for something?”

Kellmen nodded.

“You may have noticed, but Iam definitely likes his alone time. He won’t talk about it, but something has been bothering him since before we joined up together. I haven’t pried though, it’s not my place.”

I took a few more sips of the mug of ale before setting it down in disgust.

“Iam seemed pretty happy when you guys were in the bar fight a little bit ago. Does he like to fight?”

Kellmen closed his eyes for a moment and then sighed. He lifted the mug of ale to his lips at finished it and set the container down with a heavy hand.

“I’m not sure who told me this, but it seems relevant,” he said, opening his eyes and looking right back at me, “some people are only truly happy when there’s a battle to be had. Iam’s like that. I’m sure it goes beyond this place too. Whoever or wherever he was before, I’d be willing to bet all the coins in my pouch that Iam often found himself on the receiving end of a fist or a harsh word.”

I didn’t say anything. What would I have been able to say? I’d known these guys less than a day, and I’d been here in this world hardly longer than that. I’d just have to keep learning. That seemed safe. I thought about telling Kellmen about who I was before, but something held me back. I’d almost told them a moment ago, but the fight seemed to have wiped all of their memories of the conversation. Which was just as well. Thinking about revealing the information gave me anxiety. I knew it was irrational, but I was having an intense bout of imposter syndrome.

What if he thought I was lying?

I changed the subject.

“Well, what should we do now? I’m starving.”

Kellmen stood and cracked his knuckles, then stretched his neck to either side, and it popped both times as well.

“We have a bit of time before dinner,” he said and motioned toward the doorway. “so why don’t you get settled a bit? Let me know when you’re interested in having me look your sheet over. I want to make sure you’re as optimized as can be if you’re going to be joining the Beatdown Brigade when we get back home.”

“What?” I said, shocked, “you’re going to let me join the guild?”

“Well, duh, man,” he said matter-of-factly, “you’re one of us now. We’ve bled together on the field of battle and are now brothers in arms.”

“I hardly think this counts. I came out second-best in a fight with a tankard.”

“Blood is blood,” Kellmen said, “and you can’t tell me otherwise. I’ve already made up my mind.”

He turned and in a few long strides, had crossed the room to the doorway before pausing and looking over his shoulder at me.

“Besides,” he said with a wink, “you’ve gotta pay me back for all that ale you just drank.”