“I take my Firebrand and slam it into the bar top,” Paul said, miming the action in midair. Then he dropped his voice to a much lower register and adopted a British accent.

“Tell us what we want to know, barkeep, or this flaming ax will be the last thing that you see.”

Our Dungeon Master, Roland, cowered in an exaggerated way, and held his hands up.

“Please, sir. Do not brandish your weapon in my place of business!”

“Oh, sir,” Paul said, laughing, “I haven’t even begun to brandish my weapon.”

The whole table erupted into laughter at his comment, myself included.

“Your ax has a plus-six to attack, right?” Roland asked. Paul nodded.

“Right, roll for Intimidation, with advantage--”

A loud buzzing interrupted him, and Cat snatched up her phone.

“Aw, come on, Cat,” Walter said, putting his beer down and belching, “no phones at the table!”

“Just a sec,” she said and began typing in a frenzy, “it’s my friend that I told you about.”

“What friend?” Walter asked, taking another sip of his drink, and peering over Cat’s shoulder.

“She has a friend who wants to try playing with us,” Roland said, sitting up a bit straighter.

“Is she hot?” Paul asked, and Cat glared at him.

“Super hot,” she said, “too hot for you, in fact.”

“Looks like I’ll have to sweep her off her feet, then,” Walter said, slapping his large stomach and belching for effect.

“If anyone treats her like anything other than a neutral player, I have no gripes with kicking you out of the group, and the house, and killing your character,” Roland said with a serious expression.

“Easy, there, killer,” Paul said, holding his hands up, “we will be cool. She’ll be a mannequin in our eyes.”

“Yeah, keep your hormones in check, little boys,” Cat said.

“You got it, boss,” Paul said, “besides, you’re a girl Cat, and we don’t treat you any different.”

“Cat’s a girl?” Walter asked, pretending to clean his glasses off to see her better.

“No, I’m a woman,” Cat said, shaking her head, “and until you understand that, you will forever be boys.”

“Wow, that’s harsh,” Paul said, “careful with those insults. Vale’s new too, he might be offended at being called a boy.”

“Vale and Roland are men,” Cat said, winking at me, “they’re respectful.”

Her phone buzzed again, and she glanced at it. Then she shot up from the table and raced across the room, and into the dark hallway beyond.

“She’s heeeere!” she called, in a sing-song tune.

Roland glowered at Paul and Walter, and then slowly slid a finger across his throat threateningly.

A moment later, Cat returned to the room, beaming from ear to ear.

“Everyone, this is Lina,” she said, motioning for her companion to make an appearance.

“Lina, this is everyone.”

I could see a form moving behind her. The woman stepped out into the light, and my breath caught in my throat.

Lina.

-------------

“Lina!” I screamed, and heard the familiar hollow tone it took and my heart dropped.

FUCK!

I was floating above a planet with two moons. One blue, one yellow.

The Death Interlude.

The events leading up to my demise caught up with me, and I suddenly felt very ill.

I let Shizu die, and Sage too.

I was embarrassed. I hadn’t been able to do anything. I had just stood there, shaking with fear.

Coward.

Even though he would return to life, I knew I would never be able to look Shizu in the eyes again. Getting even and killing that worm counted for little after the fact. I was pathetic.

But, I won’t be anymore.

I couldn’t keep allowing bad things to happen to my friends, and myself just because I was scared. I understood the physiological and evolutionary implications of the threat response, but I wasn’t even in my old fucking body really. I was in this strange, morphed desecration.

Well, right now, I’m not in any body.

Though, I had to admit, that it wasn’t all bad. I had killed the Stoor Worm. Which, for some reason seemed to be bizarrely easy. I was feeling pretty good about that.

And now I’m back in the Home for Infinite Losers. Let’s see how much time I have left.

“Hey, message...thing. When will I be revived?”

Time before Respawn is 5h 58m!

Well, at least I’m on target with everyone else.

That was a blessing of sorts. At the very least, I would only have three movie-lengths to eat myself with guilt.

I need to distract myself at least.

I wracked my brain for ideas on how to stave off the forthcoming dread from my betrayal.

“Hey,” I said aloud, “are there any games?”

A Menu sprang open, and a list of items populated in front of me.

> Chess

> Combat Training

Wow. Exhaustive.

It was funny to me that those were the only two options, and I couldn’t help but think there were two very specific types of people who might end up bored here.

“I’d like to access Combat Training,” I said.

If I have to be here, at least I can cut to the chase.

Accessing Combat Training. Please stand by.

There was no ado.

The area shifted, and suddenly, I was standing on a patch of dirt in what appeared to be an open-air arena. There were wooden stands surrounding the space, and lush, rolling hills beyond. The sky was pleasantly blue and clear of clouds. The sun felt warm and a mild breeze floated across my skin.

My skin?

I realized that the Combat Training...thing, must have generated my body. This world’s version of me had the same green skin with the leaf patterns. They’d clothed me as well. I was wearing a white tunic, with roomy cotton pants and stiff leather slippers. Belted over the tunic was a black skirt with the vaguest intimation of a checkered pattern on it. I realized that it must have been a kilt.

How very Scottish.

I shifted from one leg to the other, and noticed a wooden rack to my left overladen with weapons.

Don’t mind if I do!

Moving to it, I found that there were a wide variety of different combat instruments at my disposal. There were swords, axes, a bow and quiver, and a maul with a spiked crown. It seemed as though every combination lay heaped in front of me. I reached for a flashy-looking sword with a gloriously curved blade, but when I grabbed the handle, it seemed stuck.

“What the hell?” I asked aloud, gripping it with both hands and tugging hard. No dice.

A prompt flashed at me.

You cannot use a weapon you do not currently have any Skill with.

“That’s both stupid and inconvenient,” I said, “I want to whoop ass with a scimitar! I only have Skill in…”

I opened my Menu.

“...Blunt Weapons and Axes.”

I sighed.

“Why can’t I use anything I want?”

Another prompt appeared.

This area exists for training, you cannot cultivate or improve any Skill or Ability while you are dead.

“Well this just went from stupid, to straight-up pointless!” I said, releasing the handle of the scimitar and kicking the weapon rack.

“What reason would I have for Combat Training if I can’t even make myself stronger?”

Many Players find that Combat Training alleviates boredom, and helps focus for when a fight actually transpires. You may use any Ability you currently have at your disposal during Combat Training.

“Alright,” I said, and looked over my selections again.

Now that I knew that most weapons would be unavailable, I could see a subtle difference in their appearance. The bulk of them appeared as though they were a bit gray, almost like static background props--likely indicating their favor with me. However, there were a few objects that now stood out, their color more true-to-life.

A wooden club. A baton. A small, wooden mallet. I noticed that those three seemed to make the cut, when even their larger manifestations did not. For instance, next to the mallet was a dinged-up warhammer, and just for the sake of my own curiosity, I grabbed hold of the handle and gave it a yank.

A message appeared.

Rusty Warhammer

Might Requirement: 8

“I figured as much,” I said, and released it.

Grasping the baton, I was able to see it’s value.

Chipped Baton

After much consideration, I lifted up the baton and gave it a few test swipes. It whistled through the air with my movements and I nodded.

“That’ll do, pig.”

I received no additional prompts, so I walked away from the weapon rack, toward the center of the arena. The moment I stepped into place in the middle of the square space another message appeared.

Combat Commencing in 3…

2…

1…

Initialize!