The beautiful countryside smelled of fresh grass and wildflowers. The roads this close to Threefold still overflowed with masses of adventurers choosing the easy path to their early quests, though the crowds put the lie to the word “easy.” I walked the fields, confident that the occasional starving wolf or unskilled bandit would offer me little real danger.

Not that some didn’t try, the wolves could usually be driven off but the bandits seemed particularly insistent.

“It’s you!” “I’ll be the one to take you down!” “The Red Hands will never forget!” They all had particularly personal comments to offer as they attacked, and had they been working together they could have overrun me, but this close to the starter zone of course there were only lone stragglers unless I decided to stupidly kite one into another. None of them were any better at fighting than they were at hiding, and while I wasn’t the only one out in the field, they seemed entirely willing to ignore other people if I was in range. That Valorous Defender bonus had its downside, apparently.

It took me twice as long as it should have to get to the Williams farm, where the problem was obvious enough. The fences were broken in several places. Still, I approached the farmhouse to speak to the farmer about it.

“Excuse me, Ma’am, are you Miz Williams? Sir Edwin told me you might need some help.” A silent ping let me know I was progressing on the quest.

“Oh, Miss Wilhelmina! I should have known Sir Edwin would send you. Who else would take the time to help mend my fences? Thank you, it seems my son antagonized our prize bull Hercule, and he decided to take it out on our fences. Would you mind terribly, setting them aright?” Simple starter quest, I’d probably end up herding Hercule back into the fence too.

“Of course, Miz Williams, I’ll be happy to help! I’ll go get started on the fences, it’s best if I can get it done before dark.” She nodded and waved me off, distracted by an argument between what sounded like kids inside the house. Rather than risk getting involved with that, I got to work on the fence.

It was just busy work, picking up fence rails and setting them back into place on the posts. It was funny, in real life there’s no way I’d get roped into this kind of thing. My mom would probably faint at the thought of me doing farm work, and my dad would… well, he probably wouldn’t even notice. In any case, it was different here. It just felt good to do things, work with my hands, earn things. All in all it took about an hour to fix the fence. I headed back to the farmhouse to let Miz Williams know and collect my quest reward.
“I see you fixed the fence! Thank you, Miss Wilhelmina!” A message scrolled across my heads up display. [Skill learned: Basic Carpentry] “I hate to be a further burden, but could you please round up Hercule and get him back into the pen? If you can throw his harness on him he’ll follow you right back in, gentle as a kitten. I’d do it myself, but if I leave Ricky alone he’ll probably break the house somehow, and if I bring him close Hercule will just run off.”

“I’d be happy to, Miz Williams.” She handed me the harness and my inventory pinged the addition of the quest item. I glanced at my interface bracer, and it showed an icon of a lasso. The sun hung low in the sky, I would have to make this quick if I wanted to get back to the tavern and maybe try sleeping before the supply cart left in the morning.

Tracking the bull was actually fairly easy, it left a path of destruction a blind person could follow. I found it grazing in an open field, not far from a bandit hideout. I’d have to take care not to drive him into them, or I’d likely be overwhelmed. I pulled the harness from my inventory, and it turned out to be little more than the lasso the thumbnail suggested.

I crept carefully close to Hercule, fully aware stealth was not my character’s strong point. Still, it was worth a shot. Hercule for his part gave me a look, snorted, and pointedly ignored me. Apparently he didn’t consider me any threat. With one smooth throw, I put the lasso right over his horns. I probably could have done the same in real life, with such a placid creature, I was fairly coordinated after all.

As promised, Hercule gave me no trouble with the harness around his horns, and I managed to keep far enough away from the bandits to not aggro them. The walk back to the Williams farm was uneventful, and I led him into his pen and pulled the harness free. Just as I was about to walk back to the closed gate, I heard a voice call out. Ricky was sitting on the ground almost under Hercule, who was stamping and snorting at the terrified boy.

“RICKY!” Miz Williams’ voice tore at my heart, but I didn’t have time to think about that, I equipped my shield and shoved in between Ricky and Hercule.

“Run, kid, NOW!” What must have been close to a ton of beef shoved my shield and I barely kept my feet. My arm exploded in pain, but I gritted my teeth and equipped the lasso again. It was clearly going to be much harder this time.

Hercule snorted and turned his head as I heard pounding feet behind me, but I didn’t bother to look because the distraction provided an opening and I knew it might be my only one, another hit like that and I might be making my way back from the church to give Ricky funeral rites! I tossed the lasso, and managed to catch one of his horns.

That brought his attention back to me, and he did NOT look as gentle as a kitten. Struck by sudden inspiration, I dropped my shield and ducked in under his feet. It was stupid, putting myself under his mass, but it pulled his head down and I scrambled right through and out behind him, pulling the rope tight. He sounded angry, but he didn’t move. Then I heard singing.

Miz Williams sang a lullabye, a wordless tune in a soft, soothing tone, and I felt Hercule relax against the rope.

“It’s okay, Miss ‘Mina, you can let go now. Mama’s got him calmed. Umm, I’m real sorry I caused all this, I just wanted to tell him I was sorry…” I cautiously let up tension on the rope, then let go entirely. My bracer pinged the quest item disappearing and the quest progress.

“Okay, Ricky, but stay away from Hercule from now on, okay? You almost… got seriously hurt, and I don’t want you hurt.” I picked up my shield, my arm throbbing heavily, and walked out of the pen, watching Hercule until I had the gate closed and locked.

“Yes, Ma’am. I will.” Ricky looked in from his mother’s arms, she looked like she might squeeze him until he popped. She let the song trail off, and I could see Hercule sleeping in the pen.

“Miss Wilhelmina, I don’t know how I can ever thank you. You saved my boy’s life. I don’t have much, but this is for you.” She handed me a bag, and I accepted it without looking. It seemed like it would be rude, right there in front of her. My bracer pinged an inventory change.

“Miss ‘Mina! Miss ‘Mina! I wanna give you something too!” He dug around in his pocket for a few seconds, and came out with a rust old gear that looked freshly dug up from the field. “I was gonna use it for a wheel on a toy cart, but you can have it.” He looked so solemn offering it, I accepted what could only be a worthless item intended to be sold for a copper but to him was a gift of great value. I ignored the inventory ping and knelt down next to him.

“Thank you very much, Ricky. I know this means a lot to you.” I ruffled his hair and stood back up, glad to see him grinning. “Well, I need to get back to Threefold, I have to catch a cart in the morning. Farewell, and take care!”

They both waved as I walked away, and I waved back before checking my inventory, curious what the quest rewards netted me. A pair of plate greaves, exactly the sort of thing starter quests tend to reward. But the dirty old gear was not there. Instead, it was in my key items tab! I considered this on the way back. The wolves kept their distance from me now, and even the bandits seemed to have better things to do than harass me, I thought I must have gained levels, a theory that proved true with a glance at my character sheet tab.

As the Inn at Threefold came into view, sun setting in the distance to the west, I had the strangest feeling I was being watched, but glancing around I could find no sign anyone in the crowd was paying me any more attention than the rest, it was still very busy. I gave up looking and went to find myself a room. The crowd thinned out a little bit since launch, but it was still a hassle making my way to the innkeeper. And with less people around, the general dinginess of the place was more noticeable, the smell of bodies giving way to the stench of old smoke and spilt beer soaked into the sawdust-covered floor.

“Oh! Miss Wilhelmina! Are you here for a meal and a night’s rest? By all means, one of the guards already paid for your room and supper, find a seat and I’ll bring you a plate.” Before I could get in a word of answer I found myself seated with a steaming plate of mutton, potatoes and some greens, and a mug of that same drink from earlier, presumably mead.

“Thank you, sir, you’re very kind.” It seemed the kind of thing to say. The innkeeper was an older man, a little rounded in the way muscular people get when they stop keeping up the muscles. He had a sort of permanent scowl, but his eyes were kind and caring. A glance at my HUD told me his name was Benden. He nodded and left a key on my table, causing another inventory ping.

“Your room is on the third floor, room F. I’ll make sure to knock at sunrise, Arron mentioned you plan to leave with the supply caravan in the morning. Well, no time to dally, I have so many patrons to serve this evening!” Benden hurried off to his work, while I sampled the meal. I was feeling kind of hungry actually, which made me wonder if I might be hungry in real life. It was good food, not haute cuisine but tasty and very filling.

That room sounded more and more like a good idea, as the relaxing feeling of a full stomach and a day’s work started to drag heavily on me. Collecting the key I trudged up the steps to find my room. It turned out to be simple fare, much like the food, with a bed and a small desk and chair. I was just sitting on the bed when a message appeared on my heads up display.

“ATTENTION: Real Life body requires care. Logout suggested.”

Well, that was a pointed sort of way to remind me that there was still the sucky part of life to attend to. I sat the rest of the way down with a deep sigh and gathered up my resolve. It was always hard to make myself log out, but after the last day spent as me, really really me, the thought of going back to reality was nauseating. Still, it was necessary, so, I clicked on my interface bracer and logged out.

There was no transition stage, one moment I was Wilhelmina, Paladin in service to the three virtues of my oath, the next… Dalton. Dalton who was desperately hungry and had to pee like nobody’s business. Dalton who had to focus on the anticipation of returning to a life that felt far more real than this, as a reason to cling to continuing this painful life in the interim.

I made a quick trip to the bathroom that I tried very hard not to think about and changed into a bathrobe before making my way downstairs. It was dark, though the chandelier in the front room was dimly lit. The polished dark walnut of the floor, steps and railing did little to brighten the wide open space, but I could have traversed it with my eyes closed anyway, it was my home after all and nothing really ever moved except when Rosalie moved things to clean. Mother and Father liked everything to be just so.

A quick but difficult look at the grandfather clock told me it was very early morning, even Rosalie would be asleep by now. Mother and Father barely knew she existed beyond noting that things stayed clean and meals were made available, but she was always there growing up, and they never were. She was the only one who might even understand if I explained what was wrong with me, but I didn’t dare. I couldn’t tell anyone who I really was, because it could always get back to Mother or Father.

I still remembered what happened when Mother caught me playing with “girl toys” a girl from school loaned me back in elementary school. That was the year they decided that public school was corrupting me and put me in a private school. That was the year Father decided I needed to be more “manly” and signed me up for wrestling. That was the day I knew I couldn’t trust them. Father made a point of donating publicly to those “family values” groups that ran conversion camps ever since.

The kitchen was still brightly lit, the oven was set to warm, and a neatly folded paper sat on the spotless marble countertop. It had my name written on it in Rosalie’s perfect cursive so I opened it.

“Dalton, I know you haven’t eaten, but whenever you get off your computer please enjoy the plate I left you in the oven. I imagine it will be very late, you always did spend too much time on that thing and I read that this game is even more enjoyable than the rest. But the plate will keep until eight in the morning, at which point I will have to throw it out. I hope you eat though, you should be happy and healthy.”

She really was too good for us. Distant parents, fuckup kid… I really needed to do something extra nice for her soon. The plate turned out to be her wonderful quiche, perfectly seasoned and somehow kept fresh for hours. I added some cold salad from the refrigerator with her homemade dressing. I’d been to enough expensive catered events to know that there was no comparison between Rosalie’s work and even the nicest restaurant fare. No way could anyone eat this without stopping to really savor it. It was almost enough to make me forget how much I hated being Dalton for just a little while.

By the time I finished eating and cleaned up, almost half an hour had passed. I couldn’t wait to get back to the game, already intrusive thoughts were teasing at me, gnawing at me. In a way it was worse, having *been* Wilhelmina, to go back to being Dalton, and I knew if for some reason I couldn’t go back I wouldn’t last a week. Life was a level of isolation and self-loathing that I simply couldn’t handle for long. Logging back on felt like diving into cool clean water and washing away hot filth.

Once again sitting on the bed as Wilhelmina, I unequipped my gear and lay down. The groggy exhaustion came right back, and before I knew it I was asleep.

***Divider line***

Eyes. There were eyes every direction in a totally empty space. All staring at me, naked, floating. I found my arms wrapped around me, trying to cover breasts and crotch as best I could, and all the eyes blinked at once, disappearing into nothing again. As creepy as it was being watched like that, it was worse, floating alone in utterly empty silence. Then arms slipped around me, following the backs of my own, holding me close and safe. It felt simultaneously comforting and terrifying, but I was completely paralyzed.

“I’ve got you now.” That voice in my ear made me feel even more protected and yet in danger, and it was such a nondescript voice I couldn’t tell anything about the speaker at all.

“You’re confused. Don’t you know how to defeat the enemy?” I didn’t even know who the enemy was, but I couldn’t say or do anything, those arms, that voice were holding me captive, safe, threatened.

“You kill them with kindness. Knock knock!” Something struck my head in time with the second knock. It turned out to be the floor of my room at the inn, hard wood with a light sprinkling of sawdust presumably tracked in by previous tenants.

“Miss Wilhelmina? It’s Benden. It is time to get ready if you wish to leave with the supply caravan.” I dragged myself up off the dusty floor and re-equipped my armor before opening the door to answer.

“Thank you, Benden, I won’t miss it.” He nodded and gave me an uncertain look.

“Is everything alright? You look a little…” He trailed off, maybe as confused as I felt.

“Umm, yes, it was just a strange dream. I appreciate the concern, but I think I’ll be alright.” He nodded and ducked out of the doorway, closing it behind himself. I sat back on the bed and tried to shake that weird feeling. I didn’t even know I could sleep in UWO, much less dream, but that was a heck of a dream!