by Cat Wilder
None of the dockworkers were players. The few players on the docks were sitting around drinking and watching the mobs work. Most of the players were on the street, coming and going out of inns, taverns, and other shops. Shore Street had quite a few shops for outfitting warriors, sailors, and other adventurous types.
"Hi, guys," I called to a dozen players in a beer garden. They were watching a Viking long ship being loaded. Half of them were humans: warriors, a mage, huntsman, and ranger. There was a pair of goblin warriors, a dwarf warrior, an elven archer, a female orc, and a centaur. "I'm Carly. Mind if I join you for a beer?"
"If you're buying," the centaur said.
A round of beer would cost me my lunch money, but I really wanted to speak with them. So I bought the next round and sat next to the big female orc. She was the only girl in the group, which didn't bode well for me joining up with them if that was my plan. It wasn't.
"We'll drink your beer, Carly, but no one here is looking for a good time," the orc said. When I gave her a questioning look, she smiled. "Hi, I'm Bolara."
I paused to check her out.
Orc. Warrior (Lvl 25).
She was as big and intimidating as any male orc. Bolara looked around six and a half feet tall, heavily muscled, and a thick black mohawk braided down to the small of her back. She wore a mix of black-dyed leather armor and chainmail. A two-handed sword hung off her left hip, and countless fighting and throwing knives were sheathed all over. The only one to carry more weapons was the centaur.
Hektor was the largest centaur I'd ever seen, and he was the captain of their company. The giant centaur had dark brown skin and black fur, and was covered in scars. His bare human body was also heavily tattooed; both arms had full-sleeves of some gruesome tats. Being half-horse, he was able to carry just about every weapon he could need. The warrior didn't seem to need an inventory to cache his weapons away. I saw a mace, sword, bow, bundle of javelins, and even a really big shield.
"I was a warrior-mage before a much more powerful wizard cursed me into this avatar," I said. I shrugged. "To top it off, I was then one of the unlucky few killed and trapped in the game. The game won't let me change my avatar or create an alt avatar."
"That sucks," Hektor said. His voice was deep like distant thunder. "We were all killed during the glitch, so are also trapped. We feel your pain."
We spent a while trading old war stories. They had a lot more than me, but I had enough to noticeably change their initial opinions. When I felt the time right, I indicated the ships.
"My curse isn't just being turned into a wench of easy virtue. I was also sent to the opposite side of the world, so now I'm trying to get back home." I indicated everything around us. "It's exactly like all this, but with my friends and the company I was part of. Also, everything on this side of the world costs twice as much. I'm trying to get back."
"Gotari is so expensive because of the orc king's taxes," Hektor said. "Other places are a lot cheaper."
I shrugged. "I still want to go home. So my question is; what are the chances I can find passage across the ocean? And what would it cost?"
That generated a lot of discussion. First off, the long ship was their ship. Secondly, there was no way they were going to attempt crossing the ocean. Got was also the port city furtherest from the other side, so they suggested I go up north to Laavik and book passage.
"What would that passage cost?"
"I'd suggest signing onto a merchant ship and learn to be a sailor on the trip north, so you have the skills to hire onto another ship for the crossing," Bolara said. "Passage is expensive. It could cost you ten gold, and you'd have to sleep on the deck. There aren't many ships large enough to have passenger cabins."
That took the wind out of my sails. What ship captain would give a wench of easy virtue a chance? I couldn't imagine them wanting to teach me crap. And if passage was ten gold, I doubted they'd let me pay with sex. No one was good enough in bed to rate ten gold crowns.
"Are you getting ready to head out on an adventure?" I asked.
"Yes. There's an island to the south with a dungeon that's never been beat," Hektor said. He grinned. "It's the one that killed and trapped us in the game. We're not going to stop until we beat it."
"We do a little better every time," one of the human warriors said. "We might even win this time."
"Sounds like fun. Good luck," I said. "Thanks for the help."
I left, heading away from the docks. I needed to join a company to score some treasure if I planned to pay for passage. I also needed money for the trip northward. Despite not thinking a captain would give me a chance, I would at least try to hire on as a trainee crewman. I thought of Captain Hors. He might not pay me, but I'd gain new skills and might be able to work my way across the ocean.
Best case scenario, I was still looking at months of travel time. "I'm going to kill Artimus again. And if he doesn't give me back the power to designate my own respawn sites, I'll kill him ten more times."
I used my HUD's map to look for dungeons to challenge. Since it was just me, I needed to find an easy dungeon. That sucked, because the easier the challenge, the smaller the rewards. And then the only "dungeon" the map indicated was the castle. That was not a small dungeon, but the king's treasure room was tempting. So using the map, I worked my way through the narrow, twisting streets. The castle was perched atop the highest point in the hillside city.
"Maybe I should search for warrior guild halls."
A pair of cutpurses tried to steal my purse, but I spotted them watching me in time. When they moved on me, I clutched the curse in my left hand, and called up the sword in the right. Pointing the sword at them, I offered the two players a challenge.
"Just you try, morons," I called. "I saw you coming a mile away. I suggest you level up a lot more before testing yourselves on me."
The idiots didn't turn tail and run, but acted all offended and continued to move toward me. I scowled at them, knowing they were looking at the "wench of easy virtue" over my head. They were about to learn a very valuable lesson.
The sword should've been a hint.
They split up in a vain attempt to flank me. The only weapons I saw were belt knives, but who knew what waited out of sight in their inventories. Both wore dun-colored tunics and loose trousers. They were barefooted and dirty. Yeah, they blended in among the commoner mobs perfectly.
"I warned you."
With that, I released my purse and called up a fireball. The cutpurses froze, eyes wide. I didn't care if they'd stopped advancing. That fireball went right into the chest of the closest cutpurse, and I charged the other with my sword.
"Die!"
He froze. What was he? A level 1 street-fighter or something? Whatever his problem was, I easily skewered him on my long blade. He slowly faded away and dropped four stolen purses. I snatched those up pronto, and went over to see what his late companion dropped. Three more purses joined my growing hoard of loot.
The mobs on the street gave me a wide berth after that display. That allowed me to get out of there quickly before the City Watch arrived. All the Watch would find were some blood splatters and some ashes, since the two players faded away. If witnesses talked, they'd be looking for a scantily clad wench. So it was time to buy some real clothes.
Hearing the jangle of running soldiers, I looked around for a bolt hole. There was a tavern on the next corner, so I rushed inside the Golden Keg Tavern. The room was dark, smoky, and pleasantly cool. Most of the patrons were men, of course, and of an unsavory stripe. Hell, five of them were missing an eye. Every race was represented in their most unflattering light.
I avoided making eye contact with anyone, while working my way to the back wall. There was an empty table. A serving wench was replacing the burned up candle when I reached it, so I called up a fireball and lit the new candle for her, but mostly to warn the other patrons I could defend myself. I sat with my back to the wall and ordered a beer.
A pair of male players sat at
the table to my right.
Elf. Thief-mage (Lvl 22).
Drow. Cat burglar (Lvl 21).
It always surprised me to see elves and drows together. Technically, the drow were "dark elves," so we were distantly related. We were still blood enemies. Since I was an elf, I naturally felt an aversion to any drow. Sometimes I wondered if the game somehow inserted those feelings.
To my left sat three angry drow warriors, but they weren't players. The mobs were glaring at the elf and drow. I shook my head, wondering why I had the lousy luck of sitting between two hostile groups. There was no way I could avoid being dragged into any fight that occurred, just because I was an elf.
One of the drow warriors finished off his mug, slammed it on the table, and got up. Oh man, that drow was full of himself and radiated attitude. He wore black laminar armor and carried a curved drow sword. I glanced at the elf and drow at the other table. They looked defiant, but neither looked tough enough to take on that drow warrior.
The warrior stopped at my table and leaned over it, glaring straight into my eyes.
"I'm not afraid of you, elf bitch," he snarled. The stench of alcohol was thick on his breath. He stood straight and slammed a fist into his chest. "My armor is bespelled to protect against fireballs."
"Good for you," I replied. I touched my skimpy top. "My armor defends me against drunken fools like you. Begone."
"Be…" he cried, eyes wild. The drow pulled his sword. "DEAD!"
The drow cat burglar surprised me, the warrior, and probably everyone else in the tavern by tackling my would-be assailant. His friend piled on. I jumped to my feet just in time to see the elf thief-mage grab the drow warrior's neck, and send a jolt of energy so powerful the warrior screamed and emptied his bowels and bladder. Yeah, it stank to high heaven!
"Fight!" I shouted, and all hell broke loose.
The drow warrior's two friends shouted angrily and attacked. I called up my sword and shield, and slammed into their flank when they tried to kill my saviors. My sword through his neck put one drow down for good. His friend turned on me and smashed my sword out of my hand. Who knew he was that strong? His sword had to be enchanted to hit that hard.
I should be wearing my Gloves of Strength.
I fell back, willed the sword back into the bracer, and then called it back up. The drow scowled at me, but advanced nonetheless. That's when the elf thief-mage and drow thief both buried their swords into him.
Something flashed atop the drow I killed. It was a pair of silver rings. I picked them up.
Drow bow rings.
One of them had a bow etched into it, while the other had an arrow. A thrill rippled through me. So I put the first ring on my left hand, and with a thought a pitch-black recurved bow appeared in my hand. I willed it away and put the arrow ring on my right hand.
I'd possessed the elven equivalent in a previous "life." Of course I dropped those bow rings the first time I was killed.
"I love it when a mob drops a magic item."
"City Watch! Everyone halt and submit!"
I turned shocked eyes on the entrance. Big, mean looking armored men were flooding in, all wearing a blue surcoat over chain armor. There was a cop-like uniformity to them that chilled my bones. I didn't see any other doors out, either.
"Uh-oh," I whispered.
The drow cat burglar tossed me a purse. "From the warrior you killed. I'm Mardax et'Dryl and my friend is Angus. Come with us."
His elven friend was drawing something on the back wall with chalk. Angus grinned at me when we rushed up. The circular shape he drew began to glow when he pressed a ring to the middle of it. And then it vanished, as in the middle was an opening through the wall.
Mardax pulled me through the opening and into a dark alley. Angus barked a short command, and the opening returned to solid wall. He looked at me and wagged his brows.
"It's good to be a thief-mage."
"Mel Brooks said it was good to be king," I replied with a smirk.
"Well, duh."
"We can socialize later," Mardax said, pushing us forward. "But let's go find a safe place to talk first."
"I know the perfect place," Angus said, while staring at my boobs.
"If they rent rooms by the hour, I will kill you," I said.
He froze, looked over my head again, shrugged, and said, "Okay. I know another place almost as good."
I had to laugh. Then I followed him out of the alley and up the street. We could hear the fight in the tavern still raging. Hopefully the cops had their hands full and couldn't come looking for us. My new friends obviously knew the city well, because they led me up and down a dozen tiny, twisting streets before we stopped in front of a shabby looking inn.
Chapter 7
The inn was three stories tall, with a thatched roof. There was flicking candlelight in the open door and windows, but I didn't hear the usual happy conversations and laughter. Truth was, it was a little shabbier than I liked. Okay, a lot shabbier.
"I don't know," I said, hesitating. "It looks like the kind of place to have bed bugs."
"There are no bed bugs in virtual reality," Angus said.
I hadn't experienced any bed bugs, but I'd never stayed anywhere that looked that dirty.
"We have mosquitoes," Mardax said.
Even Angus gave the inn a wary look after that. We still went inside. The innkeeper was a friend of theirs. Bud was a surly half-orc, and also a player trapped in the game. I got the impression he was surly before being stuck there forever. He was a good six and a half feet tall, butt-ugly, but looked strong as an ox. The innkeeper wore all dirty white: tunic, trousers, apron.
"We need a room for the elfmaid," Mardax said, giving Bud the money. "And beers for all three of us."
I let them lead me to a table in the corner, and our beers were promptly served by a serving wench. She was a mob, very pretty, and a wench of easy virtue. Weren't they all?
"How did you know I was trapped in the game, so would need a room for the night?"
Angus and Mardax froze, looked at each other, and then down at their beers.
"Lucky guess," Mardax said, but he was covertly looking at my legs.
I shook my head woefully. Knowing they expected something for saving me wasn't a surprise. They were men. My body's reaction was a little surprising. My throat tightened, butterflies came to life in my belly, and some pretty dirty thoughts entered my head. And Artimus swore it was all me, and his curse of "easy virtue" had no effect on my body or libido.
"Angus, do you know of any curse, or have you heard of any spell that will turn a male character into a wench of easy virtue?"
He was taken aback, but thought about it a moment. "No. Why would anyone want to do that? It's sick."
Mardax laughed. "That would be so messed up!" Then he froze, eyes huge. "Did that happen to you?"
"No. I've always been a woman, both in the game and in real life. A wizard changed me from a warrior-mage into a wench of easy virtue about eight months back," I said. I narrowed my eyes at them. "I just think returning the favor would be appropriate."
"You're a scary girl," Angus said. "Was that your way of saying you aren't going to sleep with us?"
"Both of you?" They nodded. "At the same time?" They nodded. "Wow. I wasn't planning on it, but it really depends on how good I feel after a few more beers." I tapped my mug. "That was my way of saying my mug is empty."
Angus bought the next round. I happily sucked down half that beer while we talked shop. They were players from Florida, while I was from LA. Okay, in my case LA stands for Louisiana. If you don't like it, blame the Post Office. What I found fascinating was they were a new breed of gamers I'd only just heard about before being trapped in that world. They earned a living in virtual reality that they converted into real world money through the game.
In their case, they stole things for a living.
"Getting paid to play the game," I said. "That's the dream."
"Exactly," Angus said. He was the m
ore enthusiastic of the pair. "We've only been at it three months, but we're already earning twice what we earned in real life."
"To be fair," Mardax said kind of sheepishly. "We were working minimum wage jobs in the fast food industry. I was a cook at Burgers Galore and he was a cook at Totally Taco."
"Oh my god, I love Totally Tacos," I cried. "And I worked one summer at Burgers Galore. We're like family."
"Can we be kissing cousins instead?" Angus asked.
"Eww. No," I said, but giggled. That's when they both started tickling me. "Uncle! Uncle! We can be anything you want!"
"Hey, get a room," some sourpuss at the next table said.
"We already have one," I replied.
"Shall we retire?" Angus asked, looking hopeful. Mardax held his breath, watching me like a hawk.
I looked back and forth between them. My skin tingled, and something nice stirred deep in my lower belly. I squirmed under their intense scrutiny.
"One more beer," I said.
"WENCH!" they both cried.
The serving wench must've been listening. She rolled her eyes and nodded. I saw other patrons looking at us and smirking. Can't a girl have a secret? They attacked their mugs when the serving wench brought our last three mugs. I drank a little slower.
"Let me guess, this is your first time to have sex in virtual reality?"
Both men stiffened. I could see they were prepared to deny it, but I arched a brow and they averted their eyes. I giggled. They were so cute.
"It's nothing to be ashamed of, boys. Everyone has that first time," I said. I grinned. "Virgins. Ha!"
"Shhh, keep it down," Mardax whispered, looking around like a fugitive from the law.
I laughed. They were so funny. Of course my evil side escaped. After draining my mug, I slammed it down on the table and stood up. Then I swept my index finger around the common room with an accusatory scowl.
"You guys keep the noise down," I said. "This wench of easy virtue is taking a pair of virgins upstairs for a wet, wild, and very wicked romp. So they'll be real men when they come back down. Don't forget to buy them celebratory beers."
