by A. M. Sohma
The werewolf curled his upper lip, revealing pearly white teeth, but said no more.
“Does it really matter if something bad is happening or not?” A gnome asked. “We’re mere players. There is nothing we can do to change the situation.”
Sensing her opening, Kit scooted farther into the room. “But what if there was something we could do?” She gulped, fighting a blush when she felt the attention of the room swing to her, no doubt taking in her champagne pink hair, elf ears, human face tattoo, and obviously low-leveled armor. She never liked speaking up in a big group, but sticking her neck out while dressed as she was made it even worse.
The werewolf snorted, but the dwarf thumped the arm of her chair. “Let her speak,” she said.
“She’s clearly a newbie,” the werewolf argued.
“Everyone gets a chance to speak,” the elf from the Silver Army said. “Now, young lady. What are you saying?”
“There’re several quests in Retha that are so massive, players are automatically logged off if they complete them,” Kit started. “If we finish one of them, we’ll automatically log off due to pre-existing code in the game.”
“And we’re supposed to believe that you, a level six dancer, are the only person to know about it?” The werewolf asked.
Without missing a beat, the dwarf threw her warhammer at the snarky canine, nailing him in the head.
“And what quest do you believe we should attempt?” the Silver Army elf asked.
Kit licked her lips. “The quest for Malignus’s destruction.”
The room erupted with laughter and scathing remarks.
“Killing Malignus is impossible!” a hunter shouted. “Everybody knows this. It’s a throwaway quest!”
“Dozens of guilds have banded together to try and defeat him, but no one has managed it,” a priestess added.
The dwarf heaved a great sigh. “I’m afraid they’re right. The quest is only included so you learn more about Retha’s world lore.”
“But it is possible. I know an EC employee. He told me this,” Kit shouted.
“Perhaps he meant it as a joke,” the Silver Army elf gently suggested.
“It’s not a joke!”
The werewolf stabbed a clawed finger in Kit’s direction. “Then why hasn’t EC come forward and told us this?”
“I don’t know, but all employees are under a confidentiality contract so they can’t tell anyone,” Kit said.
A sage pushed her eyeglasses further up her nose. “And you just happened to be such great pals with your EC contact that they broke their employee contract and told you?”
“I smell a liar,” the werewolf announced.
“Don’t be too harsh,” the Silver Army elf warned.
“Harsh? She’s a newbie who waltzed in here without any kind of in-game credentials to back her up. Not only is she low level, but she doesn’t even have a guild!” The werewolf said.
“I know my character looks stupid, but she’s a secondary character that was made as part of a joke,” Kit said.
“Oh?” The werewolf snarled at her. “And who’s your main character?”
“Azarel.”
“Never heard of her,” the gnome said.
“I used to be part of Milk Crown,” Kit added, desperately naming her old guild.
“You’re still not convincing anyone,” the werewolf said.
The Silver Army elf leaned back in his chair. “I’m not so certain,” he said.
“You know of Milk Crown?” Werewolf asked. “Are they some small-time RP Guild?”
“No, I don’t know of them...but the name sounds oddly familiar.” The elf trailed off as he rubbed his forehead.
“We used to play here over five years ago,” Kit said.
Someone in the crowd snorted. “That’s convenient.”
Kit ignored the comment and kept her eyes on the elf.
He shook his head. “I’m sorry, I can’t rightly recall if I really have heard of Milk Crown. I can ask my guild mistress...”
“You Silver Army freaks are too kind-hearted. The bottom line is ain’t nobody buying your lies, dancer,” the werewolf snapped.
Kit, her face still hot with embarrassment, was unable to take it any longer. She turned on her heels and stormed from the room, grinding her teeth when she heard the bellows of laughter behind her.
I can’t really blame them. I know it sounds ridiculous, and if the roles had been reversed, I probably wouldn’t have believed it either. But still!
In her anger, Kit allowed her feet to automatically choose the path, and she wound up outside a huge, gold-gilded door. A crown was emblazoned on it, as were the words “Milk Crown,” in a fanciful script.
Kit lovingly caressed the door, making a screen pop up in her face.
Speak the Password to Enter.
Kit stared at the screen, and she startled when Cookie spoke.
“So Milk Crown must’ve been a pretty powerful guild.”
“How can you tell?” Gil asked.
Cookie nodded at the door. “Most of the doors we passed by have been pretty plain or only have an ornate frame. To be able to have a fancy door like this must mean that its members had some serious money. I’m assuming all these doors are guild zones?”
“Yeah,” Kit said.
Vic shoved her hands in the wide sleeves of her robe. “What are guild zones?”
“Guilds can buy spaces for themselves in this Guildhall,” Kit said. “There’re a couple of other Guildhalls, but space here is especially desired given that Luminos is the capital of Retha. The kind of space you get depends heavily on how much money your guild is willing to spend and how many upgrades they can afford.”
Axel rubbed the back of his neck as he stared at the door with furrowed brows. “You guys must have been a huge guild. You did raids, I’m guessing?”
“We did a bit of everything: raid, PVP, and a lot of questing.” Kit unthinkingly rubbed at her tattoo.
“PVP?” Vic asked.
“Player vs player—it’s when players fight each other, usually in sessions organized by Fibbit Services, but there’re also duels and stuff like that,” Cookie said.
Kit nodded. “Milk Crown’s leaders were pretty choosy in who they allowed in, so we weren’t a huge guild. But we never had a shortage of players, and everyone was incredibly competent with their character.”
“So you weren’t trying to show off back there.” Axel hooked his thumbs on his sword belt. “You really know an EC employee, don’t you?”
“He’s my cousin. He used to play in Milk Crown as well.” Kit leaned against the hallway wall, and let the tale spill from her lips. She told them everything about the situation and of her dislike of Kitten Lovemuch. She even showed them the letter Bryce had sent to her.
Cookie twirled one of her daggers and bit her lip. “This is worse than I thought.”
Vic tugged on the sleeves of her robe, smoothing them into place. “We’ll be okay, won’t we?”
Gil smiled and patted her shoulder. “Yes. I’m certain EC will spare no expense in freeing us. In the meantime, we can follow Kit’s direction and start this quest chain to kill Malignus.” Besides Vic, Gil had the least experience as a gamer, but with his soothing baritone voice, even Kit felt highly encouraged by his words.
“So that’s our next step?” Axel asked. “We find whatever quest it is that will take us to this Malignus guy, and kill him?”
“We can and should start the quest,” Kit said. “But there’s no way we can defeat Malignus with just us.”
“If EC still hasn’t reached out by then, more players might be willing to hear what you have to say,” Cookie said.
Kit shrugged. “We can hope, I guess.”
“What are we standing around here for then?” Axel grinned wickedly. “Let’s get going! I assume you’ve got tons of loot left in your guild zone. You can take us in there?”
Kit glanced over her shoulder at the golden door. “No.”
Axe
l’s jaw dropped. “No? Why the heck not?!”
“Because I’ve forgotten the password to get in,” Kit finally admitted.
Axel groaned and swung around so he could lean against a wall. Vic frowned at Kit in open disappointment.
“It’s not entirely my fault!” Kit said. “We only had to enter the password once a year, then it automatically allowed your character entrance. Plus, it’s been ages since I’ve been in there.”
“Then I guess we’re truly starting from scratch.” Cookie sighed and slid her dagger into a hidden sheath on her wrist.
“Not necessarily,” Kit said. “There’s one place we can check out and get a bunch of starting gear and goodies.”
“Where’s that?” Gil asked.
Kit fixed a string of twisted coins from her skirt that were digging into her hips. “My original character’s home.”
Cookie brightened considerably. “That’s wonderful!”
“Yeah...” Kit tilted her head back and stared at the ceiling with an uncomfortable frown creasing her lips.
“What’s wrong?” Gil asked, as astute as ever.
“It’s where my place is located,” Kit said.
“Where is it?” Vic asked. “In a different city?”
Kit shook her head. “No, it’s in Luminos. It’s just off the main city square.”
“Sounds like a nice location,” Cookie said.
“It is; that’s why I got it. Except the main city square is heavily patrolled by NPC guards.”
Axel shrugged. “So? Oh...”
“And how do you propose you reach it if you are so wanted by NPC guards that you are to be shot on-sight?” Vic asked.
“I’m still thinking about that,” Kit said. “But our best opportunity will be at dusk.”
“Great,” Vic crouched. “I don’t even play video games, and even I know that dusk activities are never a good sign.”
Cookie hugged her. “See? I knew we’d make a gamer out of you yet!”
Vic elbowed her away. “I am not a gamer!”
“So where exactly is your house?” Gil asked.
“It’s not really a house per se,” Kit said. “Pull up your maps—there should be a city map on display in addition to the world map. I can point it out on your screens.”
5
The Loft
“I’d like to take this moment to remind you that you described your place as a small loft just off the city square, and to say that I think you’re absolutely delusional,” Vic grumbled as she stabilized Kit.
Kit pinwheeled her arms, briefly losing her balance as she stood on Gil’s shoulders in spite of her supposedly superior elf athleticism. “It might be a bit bigger than I remembered.”
“A bit?” Vic scoffed. “It’s the entire upper floor of an outfitter and directly overlooks the city square! Furthermore, your front door is next to a guard station! Didn’t it ever occur to you that perhaps you shouldn’t buy something so flashy?”
Gil inched closer to the wall so Kit could grab the wooden crossbeams and white plaster walls. “This is less flashy! One of my guild mates bought an apartment that’s on the top of the Cathedral here in Luminos, and another bought a palace in one of the human cities. By comparison, my apartment is quite humble.”
“Do you have a solid grip, Miss Kit?” Gil asked.
Kit clung to the wall like a gecko. “I think so.”
Gil ducked out from under her and backed up in the alley so he could watch with Vic as Kit tried to scale the building’s wall.
It took Kit a few minutes of waffling back and forth between logic—because she knew she had the athleticism of a water buffalo—and the innate knowledge and abilities her character possessed. She clung to her knowledge of reality for too long, making her progress up the wall slow. As she tried to edge around a protruding window seat on the second floor of the building, her grip failed, and she slid down a foot or two.
“Aren’t you elves supposed to have superior athletic skills?” Gil asked.
“Can it!” Kit ordered as she scrambled up the asymmetrical side of the building.
Vic snorted, but the pair fell silent as Kit continued climbing upwards.
By the time Kit reached the crest of the vaulted roof, she was starting to hate her apartment almost as much as Vic did. She splayed herself across the wooden shingles, gulping in the cool night air. She shot upright when Cookie leaped from the next-door building and landed neatly at her feet.
“Axel gave the signal,” the night stalker cheerfully said. “He’s drawing the soldiers away—I think he’s asking them where the Guildhall is located so they’re pointing him down the correct street. It’s time to move.”
Kit carefully inched herself to her feet and began climbing down the other side of the building. The plan was to drop directly in front of her front door, and get inside before the guards noticed her.
It sounded like a grand idea when Cookie first proposed it, but Kit was coming to regret the extreme climbing component of the plan.
Cookie jumped from ledge to ledge, clearing the building in a matter of moments. Kit took a little longer, stretching her long limbs to their limit as she climbed down. Naturally, as she was reaching for a ledge her grip gave out, and she tumbled and fell into a prickly rosebush planted next to her door.
“I love elves so much,” Kit declared dryly.
Cookie laughed and helped pull her out of the bush. “Honestly, I’m a little jealous. I love elves, and I think your hair is adorable!”
Kit grunted and brushed her palm against the door, making the password screen popped up.
“Excuse me, this isn’t your house.”
The blood in Kit’s veins froze in fear before she and Cookie swiveled to face the speaker. The tension in her shoulders eased, and she could breathe once again when she realized that two players, a druid and a guy decked out in buckles, were addressing them, and not guards.
Cookie tilted her head. “Is something wrong?” She asked the pair.
“Yes,” the druid tucked a strand of her brown hair behind her ear. “Please allow me to assure you that no matter what your stealth level is, you cannot break into another player’s house.”
Worried, Kit looked from them to the house number posted over the door. “No, it’s fine. This is the place we want.”
The buckle-covered guy narrowed his eyes and chewed a mint leaf. “There’s no way that’s your place.”
“Please move on, or we’ll be forced to signal the guards,” the druid said with a cheerful smile.
Kit’s eyes bugged. She had not monkey-crawled her way up the house to avoid the guards just to have another player call them out. “No, seriously. Everything’s fine. I have permission to get in here.”
Buckle boy folded his arms across his chest. “That’s impossible,” he said. “The owner of that apartment hasn’t been on this game in at least five years.”
Oh? Are they someone I know? But I thought everyone from Milk Crown left! …Or did they come back and not tell me? Kit squinted at the pair, but didn’t recognize their faces. Whoever they were, she hadn’t met them. (She didn’t know if that was comforting or upsetting.)
Vic and Gil finally turned the corner, popping out of darkened alleyway and into the moonlit city square. “Is there a problem here?” Gil rumbled.
“No,” Kit started.
“Yes,” the druid and buckle boy said.
“What should we do?” Cookie whispered. “The druid is level forty, and the saboteur is level thirty-five. There’s no way we can take them.”
Kit groaned. “Crap on a cracker, this is not what I need.”
A trumpet sounded.
Congratulations! Your life skill, “swear proficiently,” has risen to level two!
Kit waved the notification away and turned to the door. She heard the druid and saboteur shift from their spot on the street as Kit blurted out into the password screen, “Honey, I’m home!”
The lock on the door clicked, then the doo
r itself swung open as braziers fastened to the wall burst into flames.
Kit sighed in relief and sagged against the door frame. She looked up when the druid spoke in wonder.
“Who are you?”
Kit offered her a wane smile. “Azarel.”
The saboteur took a step closer. “From Milk Crown?”
Kit nodded.
“Then you must be the dancer everyone in the Guildhall was talking about—the one who claimed she knew an EC employee,” the druid said excitedly. “You know how to get out of here!”
“You mean you believe me?”
“We were playing back when Milk Crown was at its most influential.” The druid pointed back and forth between herself and the saboteur. “I even attended Milk Crown’s farewell party. I know your guild. None of you would lie about something like this.”
Kit stared at the pair, wondering if she could trust them.
Vic peered over her shoulder. “Axel is on his way back, and he’s got some company.”
Her mind made up, Kit darted into her home. “Everybody inside.”
“Us, too?” the saboteur asked.
“Yeah, just get in,” Kit said as she hurried up the steps that led into her apartment. “Gil, could you make sure that Axel gets inside as well?”
“Yes, Miss Kit.”
“Thanks!” When Kit reached the landing at the top of the stairs, there was another door—this one as golden and elaborate as the Milk Crown guild door. Kit pushed it in, and for a moment stared into the darkness of her apartment. When she crossed the threshold of the doorframe, all the lights—magically fueled—twinkled to life.
On the side of the building that overlooked the city square, there were giant floor-to-ceiling windows. The apartment—like the building—was asymmetrical, with several bulging window seats that popped out of the side of the house, as well as one small turret.
The ceilings were vaulted and painted with the sun motif, and a giant chandelier hung from the largest sun painted in the center of the room. The floor and furniture were all a golden maple color, accessorized with jewel-colored cushions and plush carpets.
