“Dalton?” Damnit, I hated that name… The intercom drew my attention away from my computer, but the water cooler was sealed so the processor was in no danger.
“Dalton, your father and I will be going out to the country club, the Fairchilds are entertaining tonight. Do stay out of trouble, and if you get hungry have Rosalie make you something. Good night!” Of course they would be going somewhere, why stay home with your disappointing kid when you could be drinking champagne that costs more than most families make in a month and sneering at everyone?
I didn’t bother answering, they were already gone anyway. All the better, I needed to focus and get my rig back together before Unfolding World Online launch, and that was only an hour away. I was all set and ready the day before, but then of course a new video card line was released and I had to go buy two of the highest-end cards, because no way in hell would I be playing UWO release on anything less than the absolute best computer possible.
I worked feverishly to finish the assembly, get it up and running and update the drivers, but with ten minutes to spare I got it done. Ten long, agonizing minutes of being stuck in hell, waiting for my real life to start back up.
See, when UWO was first released as a Beta test, I knew is was gonna be special. A full-immersion virtual reality massively multiplayer online roleplaying game. The first of its kind, with some of the most sophisticated artificial intelligence ever created. By all rights, this kind of tech should be discovering cures for diseases and mapping the human genome and the entire universe, but similar machines were already working on those. It was only fair one be devoted to making life better through entertainment.
Knowing this, I bought a Beta key off some schmuck on a game forum. Paid him more than he was asking so no one else could outbid me, and I still got the better end of the deal because I had the key and he just had money. That string of digits was the beginning of my life. The Beta release was everything it promised and more, though there was no small number of bugs in the code. My character was a Paladin I named Wilhelmina because well, the randomized appearance looked like a Wilhelmina to me. I spent the entire month of the Beta test wrecking monsters and saving people, NPCs desperate to have their flocks protected from wolves or their homes from bandits and the like. I even helped NPCs that needed help but didn’t actually have quest markers. The first one, a kid being chased around town by his sister, tripped and scraped his arm. I’d watched them run the circuit several times in that first day and they never once changed course, until the kid tripped. He had some real road rash, and his sister was freaking out, but the basic healing spell available to paladins fixed it right up, and he smiled and went right back to running.
After that it started happening more often. A farmer’s cart breaking down and needing repaired. Invading orcs breaking a wall that the game didn’t stop me from helping to fix. It started out like almost any other MMO, but I watched it grow and change as I played. The puzzles started out simple enough, but as I leveled up they started getting so sophisticated I had trouble figuring them out at all!
And most importantly, it felt real. Real in some way that other VR games just didn’t. I’d tried all of them, I was sort of an expert at trying to escape reality, but something about UWO was just… more. I thought about that, fingering the silvery ring of the integral immersion headset, wondering just how much more real it would be after this! Then I saw the ready light was on. I checked the clock, it was officially release time, I’d successfully distracted myself from the wait! I kicked back in my ergo chair and slipped the ring onto my head, settled onto my temples, and my personal hell faded away.
The loading screen didn’t look any different than before, like I could just touch it. So I did, just filled in the name and password fields with a quill pen that appeared in my hand as I reached for them. The long scroll of the end-user license agreement and terms of service felt like a decade I could have spent getting started, but I just couldn’t sign them without at least skimming them, signing at the bottom with that same handy quill pen.
“Welcome back, Wilhelmina!” The voice echoed in empty space for a brief moment, then a castle faded into being around me, leaving me in a small dressing room with stone and mortar construction, a banded oaken door, and a mirror. The mirror was lined around the edges with options, and a vague shadowy reflection figure with nothing set yet. I knew I wanted to keep the name, but I really wanted to do better on character design, the randomized settings I used in the Beta were just not good enough for the real me anymore.
Human. Female. Brown hair, long, curly. Brown eyes, almond-shaped, heavy lashes. Olive skin. Cheekbones a little higher, lips a little wider and fuller. Muscular, but sleek with serious curves. Taller than average. Scar below left eye. I looked through every option trying to sculpt the perfect appearance, because changing it later might be difficult at best. Long minutes later she stood before me, a veritable goddess given digital life. And she was me.
After a looong moment spent admiring myself, my real self, I turned away to find a table had appeared next to me, and on it lay a scroll. Unrolled, the scroll turned out to be a contract. It looked like the same contract I read during Beta character creation, with the addition of one special clause at the end.
“Upon signing to this agreement you signify that you understand that your rewards from Beta will be transferred to this character. This transfer is a onetime deal. Any subsequent alts you may play will not benefit from these rewards.”
Alts. I knew people who made tons of alts, and somehow managed to get them all to raiding specifications and keep them there, but that wasn’t me. I had a habit of hyperfocusing and making my main, my *one* character as perfect as possible instead. So I didn’t even hesitate to sign with that same appearing/disappearing quill pen.
Once the contract was signed I heard a click, and with a sudden rushing dizzying noise that I felt to my core, I *was* Wilhelmina. It was amazing the way my head cleared once the noise passed. I could feel her soft skin under the generic dressing room outfit. I could feel the iron muscles under that soft skin. The Beta had been really immersive but this… This wasn’t virtual reality, this was alternate reality. This game was officially my personal heaven.
Then I realized the door to the dressing room was unlocked. It was time to enter the game. I reached for the handle and stepped into the Unfolding World.
The first thing I noticed was touch. I could feel the sunlight on my skin, the breeze blowing through the badly-made generic starter clothing, the simple bracer on my left arm that hid my access to the user interface. Then came the smell of bodies in a crowd, the cacophony of activity.
The entry zone was swarming, buzzing with a crowd of new characters, apparently I spent more time on design than many players. Ah well, it’s not like a few minutes put me far behind the curve. Looking around the town of Threefold, three main structures dominated the scenery, just as in the Beta. The Guildhalls; the Arcane Halls, the Fighting Grounds and the Explorers’ Tower. They were all fairly swamped, but I didn’t need to explore them right now anyway, I knew their layouts from exploring them before. What I did need was to get into the Fighting Grounds and get my class sorted.
“Wilhelmina, good to see you made it. I have have these for you.” The boy I healed that first day of the Beta, the one running around the city, tugged at my shirt hem and held up a small backpack. When he handed it to me, my interface bracer pinged the addition to my inventory.
“Thank you, Georgie! I’ll make good use of them.” I figured there’s no harm in treating the NPCs like people, after all, that was what they were supposed to represent. As Georgie trotted off back to town, I peered into the bag and found a pair of memory-skill crystals. Excellent, these must be bonuses from playing Beta that would give me a leg up! Grinning like an idiot, I grabbed them out and pressed them to my forehead, one after another, to activate them and implant the skills within. I couldn’t help a little thrill of joy at the few jealous faces in the newbie crowd still trying to reach their guildhalls.
[Folk Heroism: Due to your efforts in helping NPCs in Beta, friendly NPCs have a favorable reaction to you, Also grants the title, “Odd Jobber”]
[Valorous Defender: NPC enemies remember and hate you from Beta, slightly increased threat generation]
Blinking, I shrugged. There’s a title I was never going to set active. And neither of those were really usable skills, but they could definitely make tanking a little easier. Who knew helping with things aside from actual quests might have a long-term effect? That struck me as some serious next-level game design.
I took my place in line to enter the Fighting Grounds. The ‘Grounds were a gathering place for combat-oriented classes, both damage and tanking roles. I originally chose Paladin because of the versatility of the class, depending on how I played I could be a tank, damage dealer or a healer. But as great as it felt to help Georgie that first day, and to destroy evil monsters, the simple fact always held true that tanks were in the most demand. I considered that given the realistic nature of the full immersion, there might be even less tanks than usual. After all, who would want to take up the front lines in combat, knowing you would actually feel every cut, break and even death?
And with that thought in mind, I went through the settings to set them the way I like. I always hated the inventory change ping, so I set it to notify me privately. There were a number of new settings, detail stuff like what appears visually like health and mana bars, and feedback options. One that caught my attention was “Pain Feedback.” I dialed that one down to 30% or so; I wanted to feel it when I was attacked so I could respond but no way did I want to really know what it feels like to get stabbed.
For the most part I set all of the notifications to private so that they’d show in my field of view for a few seconds, and set everything else to hidden but health bars and mana bars. I really wanted the whole game to seem as real as possible.
My turn came up at the doors as I mused on this, and the tough-looking bare-chested man in simple trousers guarding the door waved welcomingly.
“Wilhelmina! It’s Arron, remember me? Wow, I’m so glad you’re back! You know I won’t hold back against you, right? Hey, if I win, you can buy me a round at the tavern later, huh?” This was a bit of a surprise, I remembered the bouncer at the door from the first time around, he was a tough fight to get into the ‘Grounds, but he was treating me like a good friend!
“I won’t hold back either, Arron! And I’ll join the guards at the tavern this evening either way. But you know there’s no way I’m going to be denied my rightful class.” I offered in a friendly tone, squaring off with him at the entryway.
The hybrid combat system of UWO allowed a player to fight using the statistics and abilities of the character, even if they were not especially fit in reality. By using skills deliberately, one could dodge, or hit critical areas, or cast spells, but otherwise it was actual real time fighting with your own digital body. As a beginner character I had exactly no skills, but I built up reflexes for using skills in the Beta. So when Arron threw a haymaker, I tried to use the dodge skill instead of just dodging, and it hit me like a truck.
Arron danced back warily, expecting a counterattack from the apparently great Wilhelmina, and thankfully bought me a moment to shake my head clear.
“Not bad, Arron! But that’s the last one you get.” Sometimes bravado could overcome humiliation, but this time it didn’t really help much. Instead of waiting for his next move, I ran in with a wide haymaker, just like he threw a moment ago, but feinted instead and kicked him in the belly. He bent over for a moment coughing, and I gave him exactly as long to recover as he gave me. Our health bars looked about equally depleted, and there was no way I was going to lose this fight, but Wilhelmina had a reputation to preserve apparently and I wasn’t going to sully it now with dirty moves.
Arron, to his credit, recovered quickly. He tried to tackle me instead of punching or kicking, but I rolled backwards with it and threw him like a ragdoll. Getting to my feet as quickly as I could, I leaped on his prone form and locked his legs in mine and got an arm behind his back. It was a move I remembered from when Father forced me to take a year of wrestling, but there was no way I was going to ever admit to him it came in useful.
“Do you yield, Arron?” “Rrrgh… Yes, Ma’am. I yield!”
I released him and offered a hand up. “That was a great match! Good luck testing the rest of the newbies, huh?” Arron grinned and gave me a thumbs up. The system pinged a message to my bracer, [Skill Acquired: Basic Unarmed Combat +10 STR].
“Don’t forget you said you’d visit the inn tonight and share a drink!” Oh crud, that was something I promised. Ah well, nothing to be done but live up to it.
“Sure thing!” And then I entered the Fighting Grounds. The entrance to the ‘Grounds was a large open hall, with vendors along the sides selling foods and potions and all sorts of fighting gear along a pathway for a short distance, enough to lead a little beyond both the Explorers’ Tower and the Arcane Halls to the Colosseum. The Colosseum was reminiscent of the real one in Rome, a large bowl shape with tiered seating surrounding a wide field. Around the edges of the seats above, a series of structures ringed the topmost tier. Mostly tents of different kinds, with a few wooden buildings depending on the needs of the teacher. Each housed a fighting school, with its own combat master. By the time I reached the top steps to make my way to the Paladins’ tent, my legs were nicely warmed up for exercise.
Around the top tier warriors of all stripes trained against practice dummies, or sparred with each other. It was fairly easy to tell PCs from NPCs for the most part, because players rarely have the patience to practice the exact same move over and over on their own. After all, that’s what skill crystals were for! Several waved to me or called out my name as I passed, it seemed that Folk Hero thing was going to follow me. Ah well, there was something to be said for celebrity!
Finally, I reached the Paladin training tent. It was brightly festooned with red and blue banners of medieval european style, and racks of swords, shields, polearms and maces spread out beside the open flaps.
“Wilhelmina! Welcome back! I’m glad you decided to rejoin the Paladins, you were one of the best, and I know you’re going to do us proud.” I could actually feel myself blush at the praise from Sir Edwin Montrege. He was the head of the order, and he remembered me too! I offered him a salute.
“Thank you, Sir Edwin! I will do my best! If I may, I would like to take my vows and begin my training.”
“Of course, Miss Wilhelmina. Kneel, and I will hear your vows.” I dropped to a knee before him and considered my words. The actual vow didn’t really alter anything in game as far as I knew, but the act of taking them marked a character as a Paladin, and I thought it would be a good idea to take them seriously.
“I, Wilhelmina of Threefold, hereby vow to uphold the principles of Justice, Equality and Compassion. I vow to shield and assist those in need to the best of my ability, and to guide and lead those who wish it to those same principles. I vow to speak no untruth, except under duress, and to atone for any intentional disobedience to these vows in whatever way I may. So it is sworn.” I realized I should have thought up and maybe written better vows before launch, but those seemed reasonable at least.
“So it is sworn. Welcome back to the the ranks of the Paladins.” He nodded and beckoned me to rise, then handed me a small bag, causing my inventory to ping again. “Inside you will find equipment and crystals that will impart the basic skills every Paladin knows: [Challenging Call], [Holy Smite], [Divine Protection] and [Lay On Hands]. Practice these until you are comfortable with them, then go forth and bring Justice, Equality and Compassion to the world. Oh, and with that in mind, the Williams family is having some trouble on their farm, if you have time could you look into that? We’re all counting on you!”
I recognized the quest hook and dismissal so I saluted before getting out of the way so the next player could take their vows. I remembered the skills from the Beta, but I used the crystals to be sure, in case something had changed between versions. They did seem somehow more real, more complete. Then I checked the equipment in my inventory using my bracer, because no way was there any armor in that little bag, or a weapon larger than a pocketknife.
I’d been given a simple breastplate, a small round shield and a sword, and a spear. I touched the armor and it materialized on my body. I felt the weight of it, the heavy padding underneath and the cold smoothness of hard steel. Two more touches on the bracer and I was holding sword and shield. The shield was maybe two feet in diameter, and the sword slightly longer than my forearm. Basic equipment, but with the game’s gear system they would likely last me a fairly long while.
Looking around, many other players were doing much the same. Collecting their classes, gear and checking their settings. Several NPCs waved, quest markers showing their needs. It seemed like an awful lot of quests actually, but as people accepted quests those NPCs would lose their marker and go find places nearby to wait, and before long another would come offer their own.
Still, I already had one quest, and it seemed like I might have to fight through a morass of various warrior-class players to get a chance at another right now. So instead, I made my way to a target dummy to try out my new skills and equipment.
A few swings of the sword taught me that it was a well-crafted if simple weapon. The edge was sharp, the weight balanced just a little past the hilt, and it felt sturdy. The blade bit nicely into the practice dummy without losing any sharpness. I smacked it with the shield and found that sturdy too, it felt incredibly real right down to the wood grain on the inside.
“Holy Smite!” I called out the attack, not really a necessary thing but it just… felt good to do now and then. The sword glowed brightly with the strike, and left a scorch mark where it struck, flaring out around the place where the sword bit in. I could feel the drain in my mana, leaving me feeling a little bit more tired in a way that had nothing to do with my muscles or my emotions. I could see it on my bars, too, that spell took up about a fourth of my mana pool.
I tried some more practice, getting a feel for how my current mana pool refreshed and my own fighting capabilities, which were actually pretty decent as far as I could tell. The experience of playing in Beta translated to a fair bit of actual skill already. I was interrupted from my musing on this however, by a growing hush among the crowd. I turned to see what everyone was looking at, and spotted a pair of Paladins of the Order of the Golden Hammer on horses, opening a path through the crowd by sheer intimidation. They escorted a large horse-drawn carriage to meet a single elven woman in a purple dress. It looked like they might want to arrest her, though in retrospect Golden Hammer paladins always kind of looked like they wanted to arrest everyone.
The elf woman in the robes looked horribly out of place in the sea of newbie warriors, she was clearly a caster. But no way were they going to arrest her for not fitting in! Except, the Golden Hammer were the kind who liked people to fall in line. I groaned and started wading through the crowd to try and see if I could help, but the press was far too thick and before I could even get close an elderly man stepped out of the carriage. The Herald of the High King. What in the world had that poor girl done to get in this much trouble on day one?
But to my surprise, a young man followed after and presented the elf girl with a chest, giving some speech about great deeds and accomplishments. It turned out the elf’s name was Lady Alvia. Did the Golden Hammer really serve as guards for court functionaries? And why all this fuss to give the girl her Beta achievement rewards? Wilhelmina was suddenly very grateful for sweet little Georgie.
The girl, Lady Alvia, looked surprisingly like a deer in headlights, especially with those big elven eyes. “Dear Sir, may another collect this reward for me?” The question made little sense for someone who must have been playing hardcore to get the level of ceremony on display, maybe someone else got into her account or something… But some other players took it as an excuse to heckle her, because of course they would; no matter how great the game they were still internet randos.
Wilhelmina was about to track down the heckler who called her an idiot and challenge him, but before she could, someone else pointed out that the girl must have rolled an alt first and it started to make sense. Wow, that was pretty sucky, but that sort of thing did happen to people who didn’t even skim things before signing. Still, she couldn’t help but sympathize. The rewards would either go to waste, or this would be her new main, possibly one she didn’t even know how to play.
I watched her put each one to her head looking like someone had kicked her puppy. It was almost physically painful. Maybe it was the really expressive elven features, but I really felt for her. And what’s worse, I was starting to think I knew who she was, because the Epic Feats were fairly telling, all realm firsts and major raiding achievements… And the killing blow on Arch Demon Vosdar…
“That’s Col?! Holy… Umm, by the three!” It was stunning. Col, the leading tank from the Beta, and all those bonuses going to a caster alt. I almost said something that would definitely break character but caught myself in time. Then I realized… I might have just shouted out her deadname. In a crowd. Well, fuck. I looked up just in time to hear her yell in frustration, “Fuck me!”
Yup. Definitely shouldn’t have deadnamed her. And with that crowd around her, as vulnerable as she looked, someone was definitely about to offer to take her up on it. I surged through the crowd, no longer caring about bruising people, planted my feet in front of her with those mountainous mounted Golden Hammer drones on the other side, drew sword and shield and yelled out at the crowd.
“I will beat bloody each and every person that offers to take her up on this. I swear it by the three virtues to which I gave my oaths!”
I was greeted by deafening silence for long moments. I was sure several people would take me up on it and probably kick my ass, but it was the gesture that mattered anyway. So I glared at every eye that would meet mine with my best evil eye.
“You would do well not to challenge Wilhelmina on this. You can not win.” The deep voice startled me, and I found myself looking back and up at the Golden Hammer paladins. The shorter of the two threw me a wink, but otherwise held that intimidating stony demeanor. That was… unexpected. I honestly hadn’t been aware they could think on their own. In fact I was sort of surprised the server didn’t crash right then and there. After that the crowd backed away, there was some grumbling but no real challenges. I tried not to look too relieved.
“So this is the twilight zone, right?” Lady Alvia queried, sounding a bit shell-shocked.
“Yeah, that was really weird… I bet it’s because of my Beta bonus. NPCs like me. Still, wow. Umm, anyway, I don’t want to get in the way of the rest of the event, but would you be willing to talk a bit after? I’m Wilhelmina, like he said.” Well, that didn’t come out awkwardly at all… Well, considering the situation, awkward was actually a pretty big step up.
“Ah, sure.” I nodded and looked down at the incoming friend request on my bracer interface and accepted it, while the Herald of the High King said something or other to Lady Alvia. I waited patiently as they finished their business, still watching the lingering bits of the crowd. It seemed like most of the people who stayed were bottom feeders, tactless assholes who would get in their jabs the moment I turned away, so I had no intention of giving up any ground.
“Send me a Whisper later. I got to take care of something.” I turned to nod and wave her off, saw her tapping away at her interface, and then she was gone. I pondered that, watched the carriage and Golden Hammer paladins trot away, shrugged and looked back at the crowd.
“Show’s over, everybody.” I unequipped my sword and shield and started walking toward the tavern. The place was likely to be overrun for the first few weeks, but I made a promise and I meant to keep it.
The tavern was exactly as busy as I expected. I unequipped the breastplate to better squeeze through the crowd and try to find where the guards sit when not working. I figured I could guess what salmon felt like, swimming up waterfalls to find a place to lay eggs, but I did eventually push through to where Arron and the rest of the NPC guards on break were relaxing.
“Hey guys, how fares the day?” I usually tried to talk like a Renaissance Festival playtron, though Father would never approve of me going to such an event so I probably sounded more like an idiot than a medieval English-speaker, but it was fun to at least try anyway.
“Better now that you’ve joined us, Miss Wilhelmina! I see you’ve taken up the shield again, that was a daring show you put on this last hour.” Oh boy, that was gonna be a popular story, I hadn’t even considered it.
“Well, I mean…” I coughed nervously and Arron passed me one of those tall wooden cups of ale you see in every single roleplaying game tavern everywhere. It was full to the very edge, and when I sipped it it tasted of dark secrets and vaguely rotten fruit and burning. I considered the flavor and decided it was good.
“I… wasn’t trying to create a scene or anything. Just, well, you all understand, when someone is especially vulnerable you protect them, right?” I peered around the table and received several nods.
“And you did. We’ll all drink to that!” I gamely lifted my cup and took a deep drink. “But Miss Wilhelmina, you’ve always been like that. Not just protecting people, but helping. Not too proud to heal a child with a skinned knee, or carry brick for the masons after an attack when other heroes would be celebrating.” I could feel my cheeks flushing, reminding me how real, how right I felt in the now, but he continued.
“We’ve run into a problem. And not the kind you ask a proud hero to solve, the kind you ask a decent person for help with. Someone we can actually trust. It’s a… rather sensitive situation.” This sounded serious, like a special quest or something. Probably to do with that Odd Jobber thing…
“Of course, I’ll be happy to help in any way I can.” What else could I say? Special quests were rare, and getting one this early in the game was… Well, it made me feel pretty damn important. Arron leaned over and murmured in my ear, and I received a private notification of the quest and a whisper from Arron at the same time.
I surreptitiously looked down at my bracer to read the whisper, apparently meant for my eyes and or ears only. “As I said this is quite embarrassing, the mining town of Gelwihr has had repeated shipments of vital garrison supplies robbed in transit off the southern highway from threefold. The situation has become quite dire. The garrison captain no longer has the funds to feed his troops, let alone pay them. Their equipment is in total disarray from constant kobold attacks. If was a simple matter of robbery a new supply shipment would be sent. But the Baron Alester has refused to authorize the quartermaster the expense until the highwaymen have been dealt with. I fear there may be more afoot than just robbery. The supplies have been intercepted three times already, but no other wagons on that route have been robbed. And the obstruction from the Baron just doesn’t make sense. That lack of support from Quartermaster Rendon is quite odd as well . There’s no evidence, just my gut, so I cannot bring this to just anyone, especially with the Baron involved.”
Once I finished reading the whisper, I looked up to Arron, who offered me a very serious look. “A toast then, for our good friend Wilhelmina, to her continued health and success!” He held up his cup, and I matched it with mine.
“And to Justice, to Equality, and Compassion. May we all find them in abundance!” Arron drained his cup with a grateful smile, and I matched him, noting the heat filling me from the strength of it. I spent a half hour just hanging out and talking. The guards has lots of fun stories about challengers for Fighting Grounds entry. Creative wins and crushing defeats. It turned out they had specific rules for testing newbies, not so much to really keep people out, but to show them a hint of what they would face as fighting classes. Get in a hit or two, and if the applicant still wanted to go, take a dive. Even Arron had held back against me, in spite of what he said. It made sense, guards that could actually be defeated by beginning classless players wouldn’t be much use to the city.
“Well, I hate to break this up, but it’s almost time for us to get back to duty. More applicants to test, and another shipment to load before it leaves in the morning. Thank you, Wilhelmina, for joining us. It means a lot.” I nodded and stood with them to leave. The hint about the supplies going on the road let me know when to be ready, and I didn’t want to forget the Williams family were having a problem with their farm. So I fought my way back out of the tavern and re-equipped my gear.
Checking my interface map I set the quest tracking marker. As much as I didn’t like reminders that this was a game, it was important to be able to find things. I turned until the blinking marker appeared in my field of view, and started walking.
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!