Matt flopped into his dining room chair and swiped at the lamb chop in front of him. The additional guards he’d hired were now at his home, and as expected, one of them reported that Shadowfingers 9,000 had indeed attempted to force his way into the home. Two guards were injured, but none of Matt’s crew had been killed.

“Made an enemy already?” Bethilda asked as she took a chair opposite Matt and started cutting up her food.

Matt chomped a bite of lamb and chewed it unceremoniously while shrugging to Bethilda. “Seems to be a habit of mine,” he said between bites.

“NPCs like you are meant to keep a lower profile,” Bethilda said. “You’re more of a background character. People go to the public executions to add drama and realism to the world, but no one expects you to acquire a list of actual enemies.”

“Wouldn’t an executioner always make enemies?” Matt asked. “I mean, if I am always chopping heads off, it seems likely that everyone will end up hating me sooner or later.” Matt rushed another bite of food down and then added, “Besides, this guy was in my home when I first spawned into the game and came inside. He lashed out at me without any provocation on my part.” Matt slid the report across the table.

Bethilda nodded casually and chewed her food before washing it down with a sip of wine. “Fair enough.” Bethilda looked at the report and then set it back on the table. “You can always hire an assassin or two just to make a point,” she said.

Matt chuckled. “So far this guy hasn’t given me any reason to worry. I defeated him twice single handedly, and then my guards held him off the third time. I think I’d be better off just adding more guards.”

Bethilda shook her head. “No, you should hire a spellsword. Someone like that will add magical wards and traps to the home, but can double as a steward whenever you are away. Always better to have someone like that in charge of the guards you hire. They’ll fight more effectively, assuming Shadowfingers 9,000 can even get through the magical wards in the first place.” A wry smile stretched its way across the gnome’s lips. “I can arrange for one, if you like. I know the right places to go to hire one.”

Matt nodded. “And you and me are good, right?”

Bethilda laughed. “Oh no, I’m going to make you pay for getting me arrested, that’s for sure, but seeing as how you saved me from experiencing an execution, I figure just some gold ought to square us up.”

“How much?” Matt asked, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms.

“Say, three hundred gold?” Bethilda said.

“And you’ll keep an eye out for any way to get me out of here early?” Matt pressed.

“I don’t think that will be very likely,” Bethilda countered.

“But you are a QA tester, right? So, it’s more likely you will find one, or hear about one from your colleagues, than I will while I am relegated to chopping off heads and hanging people.”

Bethilda held up her glass in a mock toast. “Very well, three hundred gold for me, and we’re even. Another hundred, and I will keep my eyes and ears open for a back door.”

Matt scoffed. “Extortionist.”

Bethilda batted her eyes in feigned innocence and pouted her lips. “Who? Widdle ol’ me? I’d never take advantage of anyone, I pwomise.”

“Pft, riiiight.” Matt opened his inventory and removed the required gold, then set it on the table. Bethilda snatched the bag up and then hopped out of her chair.

“Also, the spellsword will come out of your wages. Don’t worry, I can arrange it all through some of my limited admin permissions. You should see the spellsword arrive within an hour or two.”

“Thanks,” Matt said.

“Don’t mention it. It’s the least I could do.”

“Ha! It certainly is,” Matt jabbed. “I’d prefer an exit, but I guess I’ll settle for a steward who can cast wards.”

Bethilda threw up her hands. “Hey, don’t blame me. You should have read your contract.”

Matt wanted to say something, and almost did before he realized that she was right and he wasn’t really mad at her. He wasn’t even mad that she didn’t know a way out. He was upset with himself for being impetuous and naive. He bit his tongue, forced a smile, and gave her a nod as she headed for the door.

“Be safe,” Matt called out as she exited the house. He stared at the closed door for a few moments. His mind replayed watching her exit the original lobby before he’d been tricked into joining this world. “You really stepped in it this time, Matt,” he mumbled to himself. “How are you going to get out of this one?”

He closed his eyes and rubbed a hand through his hair before trudging up the stairs. He figured he may as well check out the chest in his room. Sitting around wasn’t going to get him any closer to escape, and if he was going to search for a way out, then he’d need whatever equipment he could get his hands on. He fished the key from his inventory and opened the chest at the foot of his bed.

Acquired executioner’s mantle.

Acquired Onyx Amulet.

Gained 1,000 gold pieces.

“Suh-weeeet,” Matt said. “At least I can hire a small private army.” He opened up his inventory and looked at the other items he’d gotten.

Executioner’s Mantle: Classic hood that obscures the executioner’s identity. Originally designed to obscure the wearer’s identity, this item is now known as a symbol of terror. +4 to stealth, +15% chance to terrify enemies.

Onyx Amulet: Enchanted necklace bestowed by the Queen of Falchor. When worn, this amulet will protect the wearer from magical attacks. +50% spell resistance.

“Nice,” Matt said. “I can put those to use.” He equipped the items and then glanced around his room. The furnishings were nice enough, but overall he found the room boring. No, boring wasn’t the right word. The room wasn’t dull at all. It was oppressive. This was the place he was meant to spend the next ten years of his real life. Sure, as a kid he might have thought such an arrangement to be the perfect life, but now that he was confronted with the reality of his contract it smothered him.

Matt left the house without a word to any of his guards. He had to get out. He retraced his first steps in the city until he reached the main gates. Paying no mind to the stares and muttering from both NPCs and players around him, he pushed through the gates and turned northward toward the forested mountains.

He followed a narrow road for a bit, using it to quickly put distance between himself and Falchor. Then, when the road turned eastward, he left the road and disappeared into the trees, putting the castle far behind him. Up over a smaller set of foothills, then up to a squat, round mountain he walked with a steady gait. He noted the trees and smaller plants around him, mentally cataloguing the various flowers and herbs he found. If he walked close enough to something with a blossom or seed pod he’d pick it, note the yellow words announcing what he’d just picked, and tuck it away into his inventory. Somewhere out here was the answer to his imprisonment, and it just might come in the form of a powerful potion. Even if a potion wouldn’t directly get him out, his past experience had taught him that one of the fastest ways to amass wealth was to create and sell potions. One way or another, Matt was going to escape.

A snarl jolted him from his thoughts. His left hand grasped at a purple flower while his right stretched toward a berry bush of some sort. His eyes followed the sound to his right and discovered a large gray wolf just behind the bush. Under its bloody maw lay a dead rabbit. Matt knew how this was going to play out.

He equipped his axe and swung without hesitation. Good thing too, since the wolf lunged as soon as he equipped his weapon. The blade bit deep into the wolf’s head. The skull split apart, spilling blood and gore from the open wound as the body flew through its jump, following its momentum. The wolf landed in a heap on the ground.

Would you like to loot Gray Wolf?

“Sure,” Matt said. The wolf disappeared and he gained a wolf pelt along with two wolf fangs. He then turned and looked at the rabbit. “I want to loot the dead rabbit.” The rabbit disappeared, adding a damaged rabbit pelt and a lucky foot to Matt’s inventory.

Matt nodded and then continued over the top of the mountain and then started down the other side. He followed a small, clear brook that wound its way through the trees. He saw frogs and a few deer, but he didn’t bother trying to overtake them. He kept his focus on the flora, stuffing his inventory with everything he could get his hands on. The brook gave life to a wider variety of plants than the open hillsides had. He gathered dragon fang flowers, troll eye mushrooms, and many more that he didn’t even register the names of.

About half way down the mountain the brook dropped over a ten foot cliff and fell into a strange pool. Matt stopped and inspected the water for a few moments, noticing that the clear and pure brook turned dark and still in the pool at the base of the cliff.

Matt picked his way down the left side of the cliff and then back toward the pool at the bottom. Behind the thin waterfall, Matt noticed there was a small cave. Just in front of it was a blood stained helmet. Matt grinned and entered the cave.

Discovered Troll’s Grotto

“Not the most original name,” Matt mumbled as his eyes adjusted to the dark cavern. The jagged rock walls stretched out before him for several yards before turning toward the left beyond his sight. Unafraid, he walked further in.

Click!

Matt looked down to see a pressure plate beneath his left foot. He jumped left, but the swinging rock slammed into his right shoulder and spun him onto his rump anyway. He grimaced and rubbed his shoulder as he looked up from the ground at the rock that had been tied to a thick rope. Must have been tied to the ceiling. He turned his eyes toward the stalactite and noticed the rope anchored to it. He shrugged it off and resumed exploring the cave. As he turned the corner to the left, he avoided two more pressure plates. Now that he knew what to look for, he was able to spot them easily enough.

The tunnel angled downward sharply after the turn. The air grew humid and hot, stinking of wet earth and sulfur. Rock formations jutted out from the floor and walls, with patches of moss clinging to some of the stones. A pair of centipedes crawled along the left wall, but there were no other signs of animal life for what seemed like at least a mile of additional travel. Only when the tunnel opened into a deep chamber about as long and wide as a football field did he find anything else.

In the center of the chamber stood a tall crystal glowing with a warm, red light. It seemed to hum with energy. Moths, or perhaps small bats, fluttered around the crystal. They spiraled upward, nearly reaching the ceiling before diving back down. At the base of the crystal was a large snake. It slept coiled near the crysta, seemingly unaware of the flying creatures above it. Six feet left of the crystal knelt a goblin wearing a loin cloth and a headdress made of some sort of skull with antlers adorned with beads. The goblin called out in a chant with his arms outstretched toward the crystal.

Matt scanned the rest of the room, searching for additional goblins or tunnels through which reinforcements might come. When he realized he was alone with the goblin, he decided to test his stealth. He crouched down and circled wide to the left, intending to position himself directly behind the goblin.

As he stalked his prey, the goblin prostrated himself on the ground and chanted louder. The crystal glowed brighter and the flying creatures flew in a discordant pattern. Many of them slammed into each other or circled the crystal without ascending toward the ceiling until the goblin reared back on his knees and began praying in a more measured pace.

The snake at the crystal’s base shifted, its head rising a foot as it flicked its tongue out a few times before resting in its coils again.

The goblin continued to chant as Matt shifted and started for the green creature’s back.

Matt lifted his axe, and then brought it down. One clean swipe and the goblin was split in half from crown to groin. The two halves fell apart and the last of the chant mixed with a squelched scream which echoed off the walls.

“That was easy,” Matt said, frowning at the slain goblin.

Would you like to loot Grimbol the Goblin?

“Sure.”

Acquired cursed ring. You are now cursed.

“Great,” Matt grumbled. The red crystal started to pulse and thrum. The flying creatures scattered, making their disorganized way toward the exit. The snake hissed and rose up from its coil, but then the crystal shattered and a dark gray hand shot out and seized the thing by the neck. A humanoid creature with a long, hooked nose, and oval eyes emerged from the crystal. It bit the snake’s head off and spat it onto the floor, then it used a razor-sharp claw to slit the snake’s belly open so it could remove and eat the heart. The creature stood up straight, roaring as it reached its full height. It turned to see Matt. Its eyes widened and then its mouth curled into a wicked sneer.

“It has been a long time since I’ve been allowed to taste freedom,” the troll said. “Long have I thirsted for man blood.”

Matt readied his axe as the troll rushed him. They were roughly the same height, and the troll was pretty gangly, so Matt figured he had a decent chance of winning. Matt dodged a fierce swipe of the troll’s deadly claws and then countered with a swing of his axe. He caught the troll’s forearm, gashing it and spilling a bit of milky blood onto the stone floor. The blood hissed against the rock, steaming and bubbling for a moment before a patch of black moss grew in its place.

The troll grinned as the gash closed.

Matt grunted. He leaned into the battle and swung wildly. His first two strikes missed the troll as the beast wove around him, but the third caught the monster’s left hand, severing it at the wrist. The troll gnashed its teeth and staggered backward toward the shattered crystal. Matt pushed the offensive, swinging and hacking with all his strength.

Pain ripped through his right ankle, nearly tripping him. Matt looked down and saw the severed hand holding him and digging its claws into his flesh. He shook his leg and then stomped his foot, but the hand gripped harder still.

“Gah!” Matt cried out as the hand flexed even harder, digging the claws deeper into his ankle. Without contemplating the consequences of a poorly aimed strike, Matt chopped down alongside his boot. His blade cut through the knuckles, the side dragging along the outside of the boot as the hand exploded in a cloud of milky fluid.

Like before, the blood caused small patches of black moss to grow on the stone, but he was able to shake off the remaining fingers and move away from the twitching parts.

The troll snarled and lunged at him. Matt got his axe up in time to block the troll with the shaft, but the impact knocked him to his back. The troll stepped on his left leg and raised up its left hand to strike.

Matt’s eyes went wide. The troll once again had two fully formed and functioning hands.

“Aw crap!”

Matt used his injured right leg to stomp the troll in the stomach. It knocked the monster back just enough to throw the claw strike off its intended mark. Matt then hacked at the troll’s leg. The blade bit right through flesh and bone, spilling a gush of milky blood onto the floor and toppling the troll.

Matt performed a backward somersault, jumped to his feet, and then came in for the troll’s head. The axe came down as a new leg formed and started stretching out from the recently opened hip. The blade sliced clean through the troll’s neck and the new leg stopped growing before it could fully form.

The troll’s jaws gnashed silently, its eyes staring up hungrily at Matt.

“Regrow this,” Matt shouted as he chopped down on the head, splitting the skull in two. The halves rolled apart, growing a swath of black moss between them.

You have defeated Milkbone the White.

“Milkbone?” Matt shook his head. “Sounds like a dog treat.” He put his axe away and looked down at his ankle, frowning when he saw several small patches of black moss growing out of his boot where the troll had ripped through him with its claws. “Gross.”

Would you like to loot Milkbone the White?

“Yeah, let’s see what this thing has to offer.”

Can’t loot Milkbone the White.

“Wait, what?” Matt said. “But you said I defeated him. Come on, give me my loot!”

A strange bubbling sound filled the chamber. Matt looked down to see a new head emerge from the body. A second later the new leg finished forming and the troll stood on its feet. It glared down at Matt and laughed in a deep, throaty growl.

A second growl came from behind him. Matt glanced over his shoulder to see that the severed leg had now regrown a whole troll.

A third troll, reformed from the original severed hand, was in the process of pushing itself up from the ground and regrowing its fingers.

The three monsters stared at him, snarling and laughing.

“I think we may have gotten off on the wrong foot,” Matt said as he took several steps backward.

The trolls lunged in on him at once. He blocked the first set of claws, and then the second. Sharp, fiery pain tore open his left shoulder.

He swung around, but the axe stopped suddenly as his right arm was ripped off at the elbow. The next thing he felt was a burrowing set of claws reaching into his chest and breaking his ribs apart. His HP bar emptied just as he felt his heart burst in the troll’s grasp.

“Delicious man blood!”

Matt fell to the ground. Mercifully, the pain had stopped now, but he could still see the trolls as they began to feed on his corpse.

Everything went black.

Respawn in progress.

Light returned to him and Matt found himself back in his bedroom lying on his back and staring at the ceiling. “Oh man, that sucked.”