Salvo, as usual, was still in bed after a late night. So, as usual, it was only Cale and I at breakfast in my room that morning. Sure, we could have jumped straight in-game and ate something at the tavern to let the nutrient paste sustain us. But I wasn’t ready to give up that much of my everyday life to the virtual reality of Arcadia.

No matter how great the technology, you couldn’t replicate actual human experience. Or maybe it was just the fact that our lives weren’t in as much danger cooped up in the hotel suite. But… yanno, whatever.

Our actual exposure to the human experience wasn’t quite what I expected. We sat in relative silence, sharing awkward smiles and canned responses to the quality of the food. Reality lost it's luster and lacked the distractions of the vibrant surroundings to keep us engaged.

How easy would it be to become addicted to the non-stop action and dazzling world of Arcadia? Even Salvo, who only came along to rub elbows with high society after hours, hadn’t gone to bed until nearly an hour before breakfast. Apparently, the whole player versus player aspect of the game opened up a new realm of possibilities and play style. He’d logged off at level 19, meaning he slept while we caught up.

When I met Cale in the game, he wasn’t alone. Stretched out on a blanket covering the grass outside of the werewolf dungeon’s entrance, Ang3lB4by sat giggling half in his lap, twirling a lock of golden hair around her finger.

“Really?” Something about her body language didn’t feel right. Cale was an all right guy, but women didn’t drape themselves all over him like a groupie on a lead singer.

“You’ve met Angel,” he said and moved her gently aside to stand. “She’d like to level with us, and I thought it would be a great idea since you’ve been wanting a more active role. This would give you the opportunity to respec to DPS.”

“No heads up at breakfast? Or was this decided in the time it took me to get in the game?”

Why the fuck does it even matter in the first place? I reasoned with myself, maybe I just enjoy healing more than I thought.

Cale offered a hand to Angel. “You’ll have to forgive, Liz. Even the pizza delivery guy gives her stranger danger.”

A low growl left my throat, and my fists clenched. “Fine, fuck it. Where do I respec at?”

A small fortune of in-game currency later for respec costs and gear at the auction house, and I was ready to deal damage instead of heal.

In the dungeon, the first few pulls took much longer than normal, and I’m not too proud to admit it was my fault. I had no clue how melee combat worked and the awkwardness of getting used to being on four feet instead of two in my cat form was tripping me up. Admittedly, though, the feeling of tearing flesh under my feline claws was enough to keep me going. Read into that what you will.

Instead of relying on poison for added damage, my claws opened arteries. Buckets of blood pumped out of the wolves with astounding speed once I got the hang of it. Better yet, the game felt new again, playing from this angle, deep in the action and not staring at our health bars for once. Granted, my eyes spent most of the fight watching the various bleeds I had going on the wolf, adding a new just before the old wore out to maximize damage.

Cale bashed and slashed his way through the dungeon while I skulked and tore. Angel probably did some things too, but I didn’t bother to notice.

By the time noon came around, we were all at level 17. Still behind Salvo, but narrowing the gap. To continue the trend, we’d have to find something new as our experience dropped off dramatically. The werewolf dungeon only scaled to level 15.

Thankfully, now that we had a healer able to cure poison, we could head to another that had a mass of snakes and naga.

Side tangent, why the fuck can’t druids cure poison? If I were a true nature bitch, wandering around the forests and jungles full of snakes and spiders, the first fucking spell I’d master is a cure poison spell.

Before making the long trek, we stopped at the tavern in Lighthall for lunch. Of course, Cale bought Angel’s lunch for her as she giggled and shook her conservative bosom at him. I locked eyes with the angry griffon’s head over the table from my first visit, and we shared a disapproving glare at the fuckery happening before us.

“Are you going to stop being a bitch at some point today or have you decided that’s your new normal?” Cale asked, his face calm but serious.

My brain fizzled out trying to respond but only came up with, “So what?” There’re those college smarts everyone talks about on full display. Yes, it was an art degree. But still…

“I’d appreciate if you snapped out of it,” he said and tossed the last bite of burger into his mouth before leaving the table.

A flicker of an apologetic smile fell on Angel’s face. “Look, I’m not trying to cause problems. Is he your man or something?”

I shook my head and kept trying to figure out what was going on with Angel. Unable to reach any conclusion, I narrowed my eyes at her and said, “I’ll put it to you this way and then we’ll go. Yes, I’ve been a cunt. Not gonna lie or pretend I haven’t. But there’s something off about you I can’t put my finger on.”

Angel leaned in towards me and winked. “I look forward to getting to know you better and eventually, maybe you’ll figure it out. For now, we’re just two female avatars drowning in a sea of unsatisfied men. Aren’t we?”

I puzzled out her words, opened my mouth to respond, but she’d already followed Cale out the door.

By the time we reached a rocky outcrop with a den echoing with rattles, my mood had improved. I even returned a smile to Angel without wishing harm on her. So, progress.

The dungeon was yet another cave; programmers sure got lazy in the early game. What made this location unique from all the other caves, was a stench of death so thick I nearly wretched. I tried to imagine the designers thinking of ways to make the overly similar dungeons stand out and wondered who the hell would think eau de mort was a good idea.

A short distance from the entrance and hidden behind a small boulder were two pit vipers. Both taller than me and nearly as wide around as my thigh. My cat form granted bonuses similar to a rogue’s backstab abilities, so now the question remained, how the hell am I supposed to hit this thing from behind?

Cale readied his weapons, and I fell into the shadows. Angel nodded her head. We hadn’t spoken it out loud, but this might not go over well. None of us knew what to expect once the fighting started or how nasty the poison would be. We were all just kinda rolling with it. Me, I was happy the pain would be dulled, being near the front and all.

The two snakes nested so closely together, Cale couldn’t pull one without the other. While he blocked strikes from venom tipped fangs, I tore into one. A long strip of scaled flesh hung open on its left flank.

That was when my paws, more precisely, my claws started burning. Not painfully so, but enough to draw my attention and see that they’d had been coated in the poisoned blood. A tool tip informed me my next attack would be poisoned. So that was cool.

Right as the other, uninjured snake recoiled from a parried attack, I struck. My paw hit the side of its face and tore along the length of his body. Opening it and disemboweling it.

“Fuck yeah,” I cried. “Cat-Liz Neverseen strikes again.”

Then the fangs sunk into the paw I’d neglected to move during my celebration after assuming since I could see his guts on the floor, he’d cease to move. Immediately, my vision clouded and the joints of all four feet grew weak. My cat form curled up into a ball and shivered, before melting back into the elf.

Through the dulled pain, not quite as bad as a hangover headache, my body had the same tired, too heavy feeling that came with a high fever. I registered movement to my right as Cale finished the other snake off, but I was beyond caring. I hadn’t felt this shitty since Salvo tried making his own moonshine.

A golden light coursed through my veins, and I could make out what sounded like my blood sizzling. Or maybe it was just the venom because the spasms stopped and my muscles strengthened again.

“What the hell was that?” I asked, getting to my feet.

Angel brushed a bit of dead snake from my hair. “Well, there’s a slight chance, like 2% on every attack in here, that you can become poisoned with death milk. Guess you hit the jackpot on your first go.”

“Sounds like my luck,” I said and returned to my cat form. “Let’s keep moving.”

Angel smirked. “You’re actually ready for more? I figured you’d want to move on to something else after that.”

“Why? We’re here. The poison sucks but you can heal it, already proven that.”

“You’re a tough bitch, you know that Riot?” Angel said and crossed her arms.

“That’s mighty nice of you, Angel. See Cale, someone around here appreciates me. They understand what I bring to this friendship.” And just like that, I was willing to look past my issues with her. Even go so far as consider her a friend.

Well, almost. Let's not get ahead of ourselves.

We pulled a few more snakes, this time I was careful to avoid their mouths even after they were dead. The loot was better than the werewolf dungeon, even off the few snakes we’d killed. I found a pair of gloves suited for the new spec, only to be instantly disgusted with them when I realized they were pink. Hopefully, I could stick my hands in enough corpses to discolor them.

Angel found a new staff with a few dried snake rattles dangling from the top and massive bonuses to mana regen.

Cale found a sword that offered a chance to apply poison on strike.

We’d just begun patting ourselves on the back about how badass we were as we rounded a corner and saw our first naga. The half snake, half woman towered above our heads. She was nearly nude, covered only by two snakes that clung to her nipples and coiled around her breasts in a living bra. It was like some programmers got in a fight over which myth to go by, Medusa or Cleopatra’s suicide, and they just chose a sloppy combination of both.

Once Cale knew we were ready, he pulled her using his taunt and banging on his shield.

The serpentine woman uncoiled and slithered towards him with the rough sounds of scales brushing rock floors. She attacked him with her tail first; the tip breaking the sound barrier with a sharp crack.

He rolled out of the way at the last second, his jaw tightened in concentration.

The naga slashed at him with both hands. Her fingers curled into talons, but the attack hit his shield. Sparks burst at the impact and she cried out as the jolt ran through her body.

I struck. My claws tore down the length of her torso. Thick green sludge poured from the wound.

She screamed at an ear-splitting level, dazing us all for a few precious seconds. Her tail cracked again at Cale, hitting his shins and sending him sprawling.

Golden light radiated around him, knitting wounds and forcing him back on his feet. He stretched his neck, emitting a few pops, and readied himself.

The naga lunged to bite, but her jaw found the edge of Cale’s shield. A horrific series of snaps followed as the impact shattered her delicate bones. She turned to retreat, but I blocked her.

And pounced. Mouth wide and found purchase in the delicate skin of her scale flecked neck. My jaws tightened, tearing through sinew and windpipe, thrashing my head from side to side until there was nothing left but a gaping hole. The body went limp, and I fell with it, spitting venomous blood as I went.

A burning pulsed through my body, not nearly as bad as the death milk but painful enough to tell me it probably hadn’t been the best idea to bite. My health bar drained in small ticks and I cast a slow heal to counter it until Angel could heal the poison.

“Violent but effective,” Cale said as he looted the body, finding only a few gold coins. They couldn’t all be winners.

The rest of the dungeon up to the boss proved to be a lesson in torture as I became intimately familiar with all the different poisons the game offered, in that area at least.

When we reached the boss, well, we left her alone. A naga, whose head nearly hit the ceiling, sat in the middle of a pit of coiled vipers. We’d need another person for DPS and desperately needed someone able to deal area of effect damage on the vipers. The little snakes didn’t have much health, but we all agreed it would mean death by a thousand poisoned cuts without an efficient means of taking them out.

Besides, we’d gotten the levels we needed off the trash mobs with time to kill while we waited for Salvo to login.

As we started the slow walk back to Lighthall, I kept my sights set on the next level. Level 20 meant I’d be able to summon a mount and I could barely wait. The second I got mounted up, I’d find that little gnome bastard on a motorcycle that hit me and show him how it feels.

Fucker.

It was close to three in the afternoon when Salvo finally graced us with his presence and joined the group to slaughter more serpentine trash mobs. The grind was horribly repetitive, but we’d be safe in the instanced dungeon.

At least with the added party member, the snakes and naga died in rapid succession. Cale took less damage and Angel didn’t have to work as hard to keep everyone upright. Each time, we’d run through the dungeon right up to the last boss, stop, reset and repeat.

“Is it wrong that I’d kill for a fetch quest right about now?” I asked while refreshing a bleeding attack on a wailing naga. “Seriously, this place smells like shit and…” My thoughts drifted away on a tide of pain as the naga’s left titty snake bit down on my ear tip, injecting venom.

Not just any venom, Death Milk. Fucking joy.

Angel cast a cure poison spell with a golden burst from her fingertips and nodded. “It’d be nice to find somewhere a little less drab. This place is so dark, it’s making me depressed.”

“You know what offers tons of experience?” Salvo asked with a crooked grin.

“I’d say your mom, but that’s below me,” Cale said. “Instead, I’m going to assume this is your way of getting us out on the warfields.”

Angel groaned.

Salvo scratched behind my ear, and it felt better than it should—me being a human and all. “C’mon, what do you say, Liz? Are you with me?”

What choice did I have but to say yes?

That was how the four of us found ourselves in a field with 46 other players huddled around, waiting for the games to begin. Across the rolling hills of the warfield named the Killing Fields, another group of fifty players waited, pacing and emoting. Both groups had a few naked dancers in their midst.

I had no clue what the fuck was going on.

“Horn blows, we rush. The last team with living members wins,” Salvo said, excitement written across his face. “Group voice chat will be shut off the moment fighting starts to avoid cheating, but we can stay in contact through instant messages. I guess if you’re willing to make yourself vulnerable for a few seconds while you send it, they’ll allow it.”

For a moment I contemplated logging out, but I’d be forever reminded about the day I pussed out from then on. “Oh, so there’s death involved? That’s fun, haven’t tried that yet.” An overly shrill laugh escaped me.

“Nah, you’ll be fine. Pain thresholds are lower than they are in PvE. More like a bumped elbow instead of a stubbed toe,” Salvo said right as a countdown started in the sky above. “This is it. Ready?”

I shrugged as he vanished from sight.

A deep horn echoed across the battlefield, and the idle players around us came to life. Dancers hurriedly put on their armor, rogues melted into shadows, and priests said a few last prayers, blessing those around them with added health or armor.

“What the fuck did I just get myself into?” Angel asked as we began running.

I fell in place behind Cale, deafened by thunderous running steps and battle cries. Arrows rained from above, one grazing his shoulder. My feline nose smelled the disease its shooter had coated it with.

“Angel, heal Cale. The arrow was tainted,” I ordered and fell into a prowl, blending into my surroundings.

He nodded his thanks as the wound shone for a moment and raised his shield to provide cover from above. The three of us cowered beneath it while running.

On all fours, I was mostly blind to what lay ahead, nearly carried by the tides of soldiers. I’d catch the occasional glimpse of our competition through racing legs, watching the opposing team come closer and closer.

Until the two sides collided with screams and curses. Shards of ice erupted from a gnome, landed on a Devilkin warrior with a red name hovering above his head. He froze in place; his eyes wide in horror.

At least I knew how to spot an enemy now. Just needed to watch out for a red name and I’d be golden.

Behind me, Angel screamed. Three toxic arrows stuck from her chest. She touched one with a quivering finger and collapsed.

A message popped up informing me that:

Group mate, Ang3lB4by eliminated by WyldH3art0n. Revenge timer starts now.

I dropped into the shadows and brought up my status effects bar. Next to the various prayer buffs was a new icon. Its text expanded as my eyes fell over it.

REVENGE: Receive double experience and glory points for killing the player responsible for a party member’s death.

The countdown clock ticked down, showing me I’d already lost nearly a full minute of the five allotted. Frantically, I brought up my chat bar.

Ri0tGrrl: See the hard on douche?

V4mpyrL0rd: Tossed a skull above his head so we can see him but I can’t get close. 5 rangers in total. Flares everywhere. Call in a mage or necro to wash them out.

“Hey,” I yelled to the little gnome next to me, still tossing ice spells like a champ. Her name tag read, Ice9Valentine.

Her pink bouffant bounced with her head movements as she faced me, “Need something?”

“Line of rangers with flares around them. I was told you could help with that?”

Her eyes lit with equal parts excitement and bloodlust, and she nodded. The hairdo bobbing in comic exaggeration. “Lead the way.”

“Hop on, I’ll sneak us closer,” I said and lowered my belly to the ground.

“Never ridden a druid before. Guess there’s a first time for everything,” she squeaked in my ear as she jumped on.

“Stay alive, Cale,” I said and fell into the shadows, hoping I’d been right the gnome could vanish with me.

The openings available to squeeze my way through the battlefield were smaller and far less reliable as people fought. I’d move to dart through, only to have a warrior dodge right into the space and I’d be forced to take a hard left, wincing as the little fingers around my neck pulled at the fur to maintain her balance.

Nearby, I caught sight of another rogue, their name tag in red. Not sure if the group tagging system would work for stealthers, I tossed an indicator over his head and pulled up my chat bar.

Ri0tGrrl: Cale, incoming. Purple Diamond.

He didn’t respond, but a massive blanket of golden clouds appeared, lazily drifting around the legs of those around him. It didn’t take long for the rogue to be eliminated.

Satisfied, I continued further until reaching the edge of the swarming mass of fighters and caught sight of the rangers, one of them tagged with a little skull. Sure enough, his red name plate read, WyldH3art0n.

“Hang a right,” Ice9 whispered in my ear. “Drop me off behind those bushes.”

Her hands forced my head in the direction she wanted and I moved towards it, taking great care to avoid the halos of light created by the flares.

The hard-on prick tossed another flare, spinning dangerously in my direction.

“Hold on,” I said to the gnome and sprinted. My back grew frigid with ice, but I continued forward, increasing my speed. The cold cut through the warm layers of fur, sending shivers down my spine in the worst way possible. By the time we’d reached the bushes, my jaw chattered violently.

“Sorry about that,” the tiny wizard said. Flames kindled in her eyes and warmth flooded through her body into mine. “You moved so fast, I had to ice myself to you.” She skittered into the bushes and whispered, “Ready?”

Ri0tGrrl: Get ready. Mage in bush @ east edge.

With the message sent to Salvo, I nodded and dropped into the shadows myself, making my way towards the outskirts of the skulled player’s flares. Still not entirely sure what would happen next, but so far things seemed to be working out.

A bright vortex of swirling white and cyan formed above the rangers and grew until sending gleaming chunks of ice down around them. Not only damaging the players, but hitting the flares and extinguishing them.

Salvo hadn’t been the only rogue waiting to strike. One by one, the rangers fell to venom-tipped daggers until the last left standing had a skull icon above his head.

The muscles in my back legs released like over tight springs as I pounced, my claws buried into the ranger’s back and ripped free. Nearly at the same time Salvo struck.

The ranger had enough time to let out a poisoned arrow attack that landed in my neck; the venom quickly pumped its way through my system. I cast a slow heal, the only thing I had available, but it wasn’t enough to counter the poison. Only delay the inevitable.

WyldH3art0n collapsed right as my health bar blinked furiously. The edges of my vision flickered like a red strobe light. My limbs grew heavy, and I fell over to my side. I focused on the pain, or lack there of, really. Instead of the toxic sludge burning its way through my avatar’s system like the death milk, it was like I’d stepped in a giant suit of vibrators, all pulsing to the beat of the poison slicing away at my health bar.

I focused my weary eyes on the sliver of health that remained, ready to experience my first in-game death. One more tick of damage was all it’d take.