by Troy Osgood
The Bodin stood up straight, heading into the crowd. He had found his mark. Hall kept the group moving, not really caring who the Bodin was targeting until he realized the Duelist was heading right for them.
“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” the Bodin said with relief, falling into step alongside Hall, glancing back at the others. He paid more attention to Roxhard and Sabine than he did Leigh. “I haven’t seen any other Players in days. Was starting to think I was the only one.”
Hall took a longer look at the Bodin, trying to remember if he had seen him in the Laughing Horse Inn on that first day. There had been about a dozen Players of different races and classes, he had not paid as much attention as he should have to who was there.
“Name’s Jerry,” the Bodin said. “Well, I guess it’s Davit now.”
“Hall.”
“Good to meet you,” Davit said. He was talking fast but confidently.
There was something off about him, Hall thought but couldn’t figure out what exactly. Overly friendly with a bit of desperation behind it. He remembered how Davit had reacted back on the docks. Hall didn’t think he could trust Davit, or even believe anything he said.
“Quite a shock that was,” Davit continued. “I’d only been playing for about six months. Girlfriend, ex-girlfriend I should say, got me into the game. She’d been playing for a year or so and wanted me to start when we started dating. Convinced me to play this,” he said, spreading his arms to indicate his body. “I wanted to play a Warden, Firbolg, but she wanted this. She was a Bodin Shaman, and well…” he shrugged. “Got to keep them happy, know what I mean?” Davit finished with a laugh.
Hall had a feeling that Davit didn’t care about keeping anyone happy but himself.
“We broke up a couple weeks ago,” he started up again without prompting. He hadn’t realized that the others were basically ignoring him. Or he didn’t care. “I called it off but kept playing and then,” he spread his hands in a gesture mimicking an explosion. “Now we’re here.”
“Can we help you with something?” Hall asked before Davit could continue talking. He knew he was being a little rude but he was starting to get annoyed.
“Since you’re the first Players that I’ve seen, and judging by your gear you’ve been doing really well for yourselves, I figured I could come with you,” Davit said, showing no reaction to Hall’s tone of the question. “We Players should stick together.”
The desperation was back in Davit’s voice, and now his eyes were moving back and forth, darting from shadow to shadow, door to door.
“You’ve been on your own since the Laughing Horse,” Hall pointed out. “Why the need to stick together now?”
“Been lonely,” Davit replied, a little too quickly. “Would like some company.”
Hall looked around at all the places Davit’s eyes were touching and quickly moving on from. He saw nothing that called out to him. There could be some truth to what Davit was saying. He could be lonely and wanting the company of others like him, but Hall’s instincts told him that was not the truth. Or not the full truth.
“What did you do?” he asked, stopping the group and looking down at the smaller Bodin.
“Do?” Davit said with a nervous chuckle. “What do you mean? I didn’t do anything.”
Hall glared. Davit sighed and his manner completely changed.
“Fine, whatever,” he said with a shrug, taking a step back. “Not that it’s any of your business but I’m in a little trouble with the authorities.” The friendliness was gone, the desperation as well. It had been replaced with arrogance and annoyance. Davit was acting like he was explaining himself to his lessers.
“What kind of trouble?” Leigh asked.
Davit shrugged.
“Not your business,” he told her with a sneer.
“It is if you think you’re coming with us,” Hall said, an edge to his voice.
Davit’s eyes flashed to Hall, anger and annoyance
“Whatever,” he said. “I killed a man,” he finished with a shrug. “Just an NPC, no big deal. A shopkeeper that caught me trying to steal some coin.”
Leigh gasped, shocked at the casual admission. Davit ignored her.
“The guards are looking for you,” Roxhard asked.
“No, but not a good idea to stay here,” Davit replied. His eyes widened as he looked at Roxhard. “Aren’t you that Dwarf that cried the first day?”
Roxhard mumbled something quiet, looking down at the ground.
Davit laughed.
“You better hurry then,” Hall said, the edge in his voice sharper.
“What?” Davit asked, confused.
“You better hurry out of here before the guards catch you,” Hall told him, no hint of friendliness in his voice.
Davit studied Hall, looking at the others. Leigh looked like she was tempted to call the guards herself.
“I can’t come with you?” he asked, surprised.
Hall didn’t bother to answer, just stared at the Bodin, who took a couple steps back.
“What about sticking together?” he asked, his manner changing once again. He was back to being overly friendly, more desperate. “You can’t just leave me. They’ll probably kill me if they catch me.”
“Should have thought about that before killing an innocent,” Roxhard said.
“But,” Davit started to say but Pike let out a screech, standing up on Hall’s shoulder and spreading his wings.
With a last desperate look, almost pleading, Davit turned and stepped into the shadows of an alley. His eyes searched everywhere, marking everyone and everything. Hall watched as the shadows enveloped the Duelist, and he was lost to sight.
“I can’t believe how casually he admitted to murder,” Leigh said a minute later.
They were all still staring at the alley where Davit had disappeared.
Hall didn’t know if he should feel guilty but he could partly understand Davit. The shopkeeper was an NPC, and if this was still a game, it wouldn’t necessarily be a big deal to kill an NPC. Or would it? That was the part Hall was having a problem with. This was supposedly their life now, and as such, killing a shopkeeper should and would have consequences. He was already making some strange and possibly illegal alliances with Dyson and his smugglers. Having a murderer in their group would be stepping over a line he did not want to cross.
Killing was a part of life in Hankarth but murder was still wrong.
They walked out past the last of the houses, a segment of wall to their left. There was no gate, no guards to watch the roads. The houses just got fewer and fewer, more space between them. Fields started to appear, then barns and other buildings in the distance.
A mile from the last section of wall, the road forked.
“Cliff Fields is that way,” Leigh said, pointing to the east fork.
She took a step that direction, looking down the road with longing. Hall wondered how long it had been since she had last been home, how long since that wandering Druid had taken her to Cumberland’s Grove to start a life she barely wanted.
Hall wondered how he would do in that situation. Pushed into a life and unsure it was the direction he wanted. How would he have rebelled because he knew he would have, somehow. He admired Leigh. She was stalling in her mission, putting it off as long as she could, but she was still going to do it.
With a sigh, Leigh turned and started down the west road. The others followed.
She didn’t look back.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Hall awoke, a new sound different from that of the night. He had fallen asleep with the fire high, Leigh taking the first watch and he taking the last. The usual noises had followed him to sleep. The howling of the wolves, the small animals running through the forest, the hooting of the owls, and the bats darting through the air. All peaceful and expected sounds.
The new sound was not natural. It was a sniffling sound. The sound of someone crying.
Roxhard was on watch, and judging f
rom the moon’s position in the sky, not due to wake Hall for his turn for another hour or so.
Sitting up, pushing his blanket aside, Hall looked around the site they had chosen for the night's camp. The small dell was surrounded by a thick ring of pines at the top, a hollow carved out of the ground of the highlands. The noise came from the top, where a darker shadow sat on the shadows that were a rock.
Quietly, Hall stood up, stepping lightly over Angus, who raised his head and gave a soft moo before falling back to sleep. Pike opened one eye, saw there was no danger, and settled back down on top of the cow. Hall made his way to the top, the sniffling quickly stopping.
Roxhard was wiping his sleeve across his eyes as Hall settled down on the rock next to him.
“Couldn’t sleep,” Hall lied. “Figured I’d start my turn early.”
“That’s okay,” Roxhard replied, his voice a little hoarse. “I don’t mind finishing up.”
“I’m awake,” Hall said. “So, I’ll stay up with you.”
“Sure.”
They sat in silence, Hall wondering what he could say that would get the Dwarf to talk about why he had been crying. Hall was sure Roxhard had been. But how to prod in a way that wouldn’t embarrass him?
Hall didn’t have to worry about it. Roxhard started talking on his own.
“Davit,” Roxhard began, searching for the words. He stared out into the dark forest, eyes not focused on anything, just looking. “What he did, how he didn’t care. He acted like this was a game but it’s not, not anymore. Right?” He turned and looked at Hall.
“No,” Hall replied, deciding that being honest with Roxhard was the best. “It’s not. For better or worse, this is our life now.” Hall paused, looking up into the night sky. The stars were out, constellations that he had never bothered to study. There had always been stars during the night in the game, but he had never looked up. Now he did. He had half expected to see the familiar shapes from the real world. But they weren’t. Everything was different. “Even if it really is a game still and some day we can log out, we have to treat it like it’s truly our life from now on. Actions have consequences.”
Hall decided not to tell Roxhard that he didn’t think the Bodin thought of it as a game, and that was why Davit thought he could get away with murder. No, Hall thought. Davit just enjoyed killing and thought NPCs were nothing, not worth a care. Just digital code.
What Davit didn’t realize was that was all they were now as well. Digital code.
“It just…” Roxhard started and paused. He shrugged. “I guess I really hadn’t believed, you know, not until then. I kept thinking of it as a game, wanting it to be a game. Every morning I’d wake up and check my Options, seeing if the Log Out button was working again. Every morning it wasn’t. And I’d force myself through the day by thinking that the next morning the button would work.”
“And it didn’t,” Hall said. He had not bothered to look since the first day. He had also thought Roxhard had accepted the new reality as readily as he had.
“No,” Roxhard said, looking down at the ground. “I think about my brother sometimes. Is he here with me? Was he one of the ones that Electronic Storm said was killed by the feedback? I don’t remember if he had been playing when the glitch hit. But mostly, I think about my mom. A lot. What is she thinking? Does she think I’m dead? Does she know about this?” he said and raised his hands to indicate the world around them. “Does she know I’m here?”
He fell silent. Hall tried to think of something to say, anything. It was so easy to forget that Roxhard was only a kid.
“Does she miss me?” Roxhard said, quietly, barely a whisper.
“Of course, she does,” Hall replied. “As much as you miss her.”
Roxhard went to bed soon after leaving Hall alone on the rock.
He looked out into the forest, getting accustomed to the noises and movements. His thoughts turned to his own family. His parents. He felt guilty. Not once since the glitch had he thought about them. They were close enough. He talked to his parents once a week, saw them on holidays and a couple times during the year.
But not once had he thought about them. Where they were, what they were doing. Did they know he had somewhat survived the glitch? Did they understand what it meant? Or did they think he had died? Had buried him in his hometown?
Hall had been so caught up in this new reality that he had not given himself time to miss them.
He did so now. Looking up at the unfamiliar stars, constellations he did not know the names of, Hall thought of his family. He wished them well. Hoped they would manage to move on, would not mourn him forever. He hoped to always be in their hearts but not to let grief ruin their lives.
Looking back out into the forest, Hall thought about the task at hand. The Grove was a week’s hard travel, at the far edge of the island. No formal roads, the one they had followed out of Auld heading almost due west while their destination was more north. They would be going overland through dangerous country. There were Centaur tribes living in the highlands, Goblins, and other creatures. Leigh had said there were a couple of Firbolg villages as well.
Thinking about it, he opened his map. The slightly translucent window opened before his eyes, the entire landmass of Edin shown but the features not revealed. He zoomed in on the southwest corner, where they were now. Auld appeared as well as the immediate area around it. The rest uncovered, grayed out, nothing to see. They had not been there yet so nothing had been revealed. Leigh had marked the general location on the map so he had a reference point to direct them too.
A week of travel if there were no surprises.
He knew there would be.
The fog rolled across the hills, down into the valleys. Visibility was poor, in some spots almost non-existent. Hall had forgotten about the fog in Edin but it had never been anything like this. In the game, the fog had kept to the far edges of the field of vision, there to show the effect was happening, but never truly affecting vision. Now it was thick, leaving moisture on everything as they pushed through it.
They were cold and miserable, having to slow their pace.
Pike rode on Hall’s shoulder, shaking the water off his feathers often. Flying above would have done nothing. The fog blanketed everything for miles. Leigh insisted it would burn off soon, and Hall took her at her word. This was her home. While he was familiar with Edin, the fog showed that this was not the Edin he knew.
Sounds were distorted through the fog. It was hard to tell what was close or far away, or where it came from. The trail cut across a grass-covered hill, barely two feet wide and beaten down to exposed dirt. An animal path.
When the attack came, they never saw it coming.
Six Trow stalked out of the fog, appearing as if from nowhere. They were silent, no war cries or even the sound of foot on ground. Medium height, standing up to Hall’s shoulder, the Trow were thin but muscular. They had light gray skin, the color of the fog, and wore mismatched, roughly-crafted leather armor that left parts of the body exposed. Long and lanky black hair hung from roughly human-shaped heads, their ears overly large and pointed, eyes wide and gray with jet black irises. Flat noses that were just two slits and wide mouths with sharp teeth gave them a reptilian appearance. Dark gray streaks were painted across all their exposed flesh, including their faces, highlighting their already monstrous appearance. Each carried a rough sword and wooden buckler.
The monstrous humanoids struck first. They came three to a side, the ones on the right coming downhill while the ones on the left were striking uphill. Hall was in the lead, turning as the first Trow stepped out of the fog. The creature swung its sword, and Hall barely managed to turn to avoid the blow that would cut across his side, instead cutting along his right arm.
DAMAGE!
Sneak Attack Successful. 2x Damage Taken.
Evade Successful. Damage 50% Less.
-10 Health
-1 Vitality
Hall cursed as he ducked to avoid the Trow’s backswing,
glad that he had managed to avoid the full Sneak Attack. Pike screeched in the air, having leapt up as Hall had turned. The dragonhawk streaked down and slashed across the Trow’s face, leaving bloody trails. The Trow fell back.
Angus, behind Hall, cried out in pain as a Trow sword slashed across the cow’s body. He managed to stay upright, turning and using his bulk to push the Trow off to the side, away from Leigh
“No,” Leigh cried out as the cow was attacked. She raised her staff, turning to defend the cow, when she felt a sharp blow against her wrist.
She dropped her staff, reaching out to clutch at her wrist. A Trow looked up at her, wicked grin, as he raised his sword. He twisted the weapon so it was blade down, not the flat of the sword like his first attack. The creature was no fool; it recognized a spell caster. Without the staff to focus her energy, Leigh could not attack with her primary spells.
Roxhard got his battle axe up in time to catch the swing of the Trow on his right, metal sword clanging against metal axe handle. He grunted, his strength more than enough to keep the Trow from pushing him down, even with the Trow having the advantage of the higher elevation. He didn’t realize there was another behind him.
The sword slammed into his armored back, metal sliding across the rings of his mail. He cursed and was pushed forward with the force and the pain, his stance adjusting and the other Trow pushing down on him. Roxhard stumbled, one leg dropping to the ground.
Sabine, between Leigh and Roxhard, was the most protected from the sneak attack. She heard Roxhard get attacked from both sides, stopping the first and grunting in pain at the second. She saw the Trow attack Leigh and managed to step back as another came up the hill toward her. She had an extra second to plan.
Quickly she held up her arms, the stone on her staff glowing, as she chanted two quick words. She felt herself shift to the side, pushed by some unseen force, just left of where she was. Next to her, someone else occupied part of where she had been. She saw an exact duplicate of herself. Same body, hair, clothes. Same glowing jewel on a staff in the same hand.
