by Dawn Chapman
“Where is this?”
“A city called Tridon—part of the Puatera Online world.”
It was exciting. Everything was upbeat and wonderful.
My guide turned to me and spoke clearly, though I couldn’t see much of a mouth moving. “Look deeper, past the bright colours and the traders.”
I glanced back at the market and saw rotting meat at the back end of the stalls. The customers behind it were trading to eat it. There were kids too, much smaller than me. Skinny kids who hadn’t seen a meal in days, with dirty, scruffy clothes that were falling apart.
My guide laughed. “Ah. I see you’ve noticed the real world now. Many don’t see it. You’ve a gift for the dark arts, my dear.”
The dark arts? Every nerve in my body pulsed. I’d never played anything but good. Could I be bad?
I watched his reactions carefully. I couldn’t work him out. There was nothing that gave me any hints to his loyalty, for NPCs weren’t rigid. Their personality flowed just like a real person’s would.
“My name is Lila,” I spat, “and I am no one’s dear.”
If he could have grinned I was sure that would have been his reaction.
“What do you want from me?” I asked. Though I didn’t really want to know, judging by what I was seeing.
“I need an assassin, someone who can get into places the people I have working for me can’t.”
He wanted what? An assassin! That meant he wanted a killer. I swallowed. “You need a Visitor specifically? Or just a kid?”
“Both, and you came at just the right time.”
I wanted to wonder about that, but there was no time. I spotted a kid approaching, but when I looked closer, I saw it wasn’t a kid. It was part creature and had fur, and when it noticed me, its eyes lit up and it ran. Not in the other direction, but right at me.
“This will be interesting. You’ve been spotted, Lila.”
“Spotted?” I tried to back away. “What the hell does that mean?”
The thing running at me it morphed into a half man, half skeletal, yet cat like hissing beast. There were pointy ears sticking out the top of his head, not the sides.
“That’s from my rival gang. Kill it.”
I backed up against a wall. There was nowhere for me to go. If I ran left or right it would still get me. “Kill it?”
How could I kill it? I’d no weapons. The sword which Keld and Denny had given me was nowhere to be seen, but I noticed my guide had a weapon at his back. I’d no idea what it was, or if I could do what I was contemplating, but instead of worrying about it, I did it.
I pushed off the wall, ran for my guide’s side, and flicked around him in one dart-like movement. I reached up, gripped the bottom of his weapon’s sheath, and yanked.
It didn’t budge. But it exposed something at his waist. A dagger—no, a different sword. I’d no time to see what it was, I grabbed it and turned on the creature at my back, dodging it and slashing forward. I missed striking it by a mere inch, and it was quick to lunge in at me, biting the side of my arm.
Pain shot through me, and I recoiled. My guide looked towards me and I pulled further away. The creature at my side hissed, showing its large fangs. Was it more cat than monster? No, it was more monster. Its hiss grew louder and I took my stance and waited for it to come at me again.
I watched it for signs of movement, but it remained still, staring back at me.
I caught a slight flicker of something in its eye, and it lunged forwards. I pivoted slightly, and the blade found flesh.
The creature wailed and fell, clutching its belly.
Ping. “First Kill. You have killed an Etolik. Rewards follow.”
Rewards for killing something that was attacking me seemed counterproductive. But I guess the game had to make you want to go after critters, right?
“That was easy,” I said.
My guide stood stiffly. He didn’t say or do anything.
“What?” I asked.
“You say that was easy?”
I nodded, wondering what I’d done to piss him off. His eyes glowed red, and it seemed ominous.
Then came the laugh—the laugh I associated with him being sarcastic.
“If you think killing an Etolik is easy, then you’re worth much more than I thought.” He shifted to glance around me, and I noticed that we’d attracted several bystanders. Some were pointing weapons at us, one even had a gun. Its metal glinted in the light. This game setup was weird, olde world, yet modern? I was confused. A lot.
“Come.” He motioned. “You’re drawing attention, and I fear that you’ll become a much bigger target. I shall train you up quicker than I’d planned.”
More people stopped what they were doing to stare. I moved closer to him, and with a flick of his wrist, he covered me in his cloak.
We must have vanished from sight because everyone started to move away. They didn’t seem to notice us walk past.
I was, I guess, still in shock. But my thoughts drifted to Dahlia and Jessica. “Would you know where my sisters are?” I wanted to ask his name but he’d not given it to me before. Maybe that was for a reason.
“My name is Gestal. I am, as you have seen, a Necromancer. Not just that, I am the only one in this part of the world. I have enemies, they do not understand what I do. We don’t just mind the bad side of this world; without us there wouldn’t be balance. The local Guild has been formed by one of your kind—”
“A Visitor?”
“Yes, a Visitor is sending trained killers after us. The first Necromancer to fall was a few weeks ago, but there have been many more since. The more they take, the more unbalanced this area becomes.”
I’d heard of similar things happen in wildlife reserves in history classes at school. The introduction of predators kept the balance of life. Without them, other creatures flourished, but they weren’t balanced and when the scales tipped, it went in many wrong directions.
When we were out of the crowded area I pushed myself away from him. There was something else I’d noticed about him too—a shimmer and a faint wisp of something else.
Focusing on him, I saw he wasn’t rotten, he was almost human. “You’re wearing a mask?”
“You can see that too?”
I tried to smile but wasn’t sure it came out how I wanted. He was much older than me, but I couldn’t tell how much.
He shimmered even more and the façade faded.
I guess he wasn’t human after all. He had fur, very light fur, and cat-like eyes. I couldn’t see a tail or pointed ears, and I stared at him all the more, then started laughing. “You want everyone to think how scary you are, not that you’re really scary, and now—”
“I have the power to be very scary,” he said but then indicated down the length of his body. “But, no they don’t take this form seriously, so I pretend. Is that bad?”
Considering all the players were pretending to be something they weren’t, I guessed not, but it seemed weird for an NPC to play inside that analogy; weirder than weird.
“Come,” he said, motioning for me to follow him. “You have much to learn if you wish to survive, and already there is a target on your back. If you want to play this game, you’ll need me to guide you.”
With a frown, I did as he bid. I’d already died so many times a part of me had become used to the idea, but every single time had hurt, and left me disorientated and feeling more than a little bizarre. I couldn’t help but wonder if each death made some hidden stat lower, or higher, but it was worse. Definitely worse.
Perhaps a guide was the game’s way of integrating a player into the game. There hadn’t been an obvious tutorial, but that didn’t mean I hadn’t had one and that this wasn’t a continuation of it.
With little other option, I trailed after the Necromancer, whose appearance had returned to the skeletal figure. I shuddered. I preferred the cat-like reality.
The Necromancer led me down street after street until I became lost, despite the familiarity of
the city. It was only when I glanced at Big Ben that I realised this place was meant to emulate a part of the real world. I doubted the real world had spies, assassins and kids that turned into monsters, however.
Eventually, he stopped behind a large market stall; the canvas covered an entire wall from view. It looked like a simple brick wall, but as he approached and pushed a small section of crumbling mortar, the bricks moved, and a small door swung inwards. I gaped for a second until he grabbed my arm and tugged me inside.
He pushed the door shut behind us, and we were plunged into darkness. My heart raced, having only glimpsed the small room and the staircase that curled around its walls before I was robbed of sight.
“Welcome to your new home,” he said, a hint of amusement to his voice. A second later a light appeared in the palm of his hand, bathing the area in a sickly green light. I gulped as I looked around. If this was my new home, I was surely in hell.
Chapter 3
I ducked, narrowly missing being sliced open by the long sharp claws of yet another creature I didn’t know the name of. This one was faster than the last three, and it bounced off the pit wall, coming back at me quicker than I could ready my sword. Once more I dodged out of the way, my avatar’s body responding far quicker than before. I glanced to Denny and Keld. They hadn’t met my gaze since Gestal had brought me here.
On the second morning when I’d refused to enter the pit, even to get the food I was offered, Gestal had told me of the observers from the day before. The ones who supplied the monsters I fought. Who bet on who would survive. Not one of them had expected me to survive the first day.
I had seen the gleam in Gestal’s eyes at the delight which crossed my face when I sent his beasts to their graves. I shuddered at the thought now. I was making him rich, and he’d promised to share the wealth with me if I proved them wrong.
It was all I had to work with. The hope that with enough days in this pit, surviving, and with the money it would earn I could leave this place and set out after my sisters. My family. The hope that kept me fighting, when my limbs ached and my throat and mouth were so dry I didn’t trust myself to talk.
This was my third day of training in the pit. And the third day of waking up in a cramped room, cold, starving and in need of more sleep. Each day Gestal had violently shaken me awake; food and drink were given only on cooperation with his plans and schemes. The first day he’d thrown the stale bread he carried through the pit door, forcing me to go through and grab it from the sandy flooring.
Before I’d even finished I’d found myself fighting for my life. Just like I was now.
My health wasn’t the best—the splotch in the corner of my eye displayed the number 5, pulsating with my every breath.
The third time this creature rushed me I was ready for it, slicing its stomach open as I rolled to one side. There was a small cheer from the platform up to my right. Gestal threw down a small flask of water, letting me have a moment to gulp it down and note the stats I’d gained from the fights that day.
I noticed Keld standing beside the Necromancer, a pitying expression on his face. On the first day or second, I might have been angry that he felt sorry for my plight, but today I wasn’t. I just wanted to survive. To get through this, and find a way to get out of this hell, to make the almost constant fights stop, but for now I only had one choice. To keep fighting.
The water helped my health, but it didn’t satisfy my body’s need for much more.
The red splotch flashed 15 now. It was too hot, too much. I wasn’t big enough or strong enough. My legs wobbled, and I thought about home, tears brimming.
“She’s gonna die!” I heard someone shout. “I win!”
I didn’t want to die again. That shit hurts.
I tipped up the flask, and no sooner had I drained the last drop of warm salty water from the flask than I heard the pit door behind me open. I wheeled around, shrinking back from the blast of hot air that came with it. Sweat dripped from every inch of me and the clothes I’d worn every day since spawning into the game clung to my body, drenched, unhelpfully so.
Not all of it was my own sweat. Some of it was blood, and mostly not mine. This time a creature I recognised rushed out. An Etolik, Gestal had told me previously. I grinned, knowing this would be an easy fight, until two more came after it, all of them locking eyes on me.
Once more I tried to focus, gritting my teeth, determined not to die for this Necromancer’s amusement.
As the first Etolik charged I swung the sword, marvelling at how light it felt. I was growing stronger, my avatar responding to the training far quicker than a real body could. The creature’s head rolled onto the floor as its body crashed down, tripping up the second creature. I didn’t need to hear the You have killed an Etolik from the games AI to know that without a head it was pretty much dead. Once more I was sprayed with blood and gore. I scrunched my face and instinctively blew out of my nose, glad my mouth had been shut.
Before I could wipe away the foul-smelling liquid I heard the roar of another attack. I dodged to the side, still not daring to open my eyes, but I crashed into the nearest wall, forgetting where I had been in the small arena. As I tried to spin around my foot slipped from under me, saving my life as I heard and felt one creature crash into the wall above and to the left of me. Instinctively I raised the sword, impaling it from below.
Ping: “You have killed an Etolik.”
Blood gushed out over my torso and legs, hot pungent liquid that made me gag. It’s a game. It’s just a game. I kept telling this to myself. But it felt so real, sticky, horrid.
Taking a moment, I wiped my face with the back of my arm, clearing enough away that I could see again.
As I pushed the second Etolik off me, the third and final one charged, but just like I had, it slipped and slid on the remains of its brethren, giving me time to position a swift, decisive attack.
There were more cheers as the third one finished in a crumpled heap at my feet.
Ping: “You have killed an Etolik.”
“Stupid AI, shut up!” I screamed.
I was vaguely aware of panting, my breath exacerbating the dryness of my mouth and throat, but being more necessary than easing my discomfort.
More water was thrust at me, and another ping.
Ping: “Your Master Gestal has claimed your rewards.”
What? I looked up at him and saw his grin. He’d taken my rewards for killing the creatures. That sucked; he put me out there and I got nothing for it. I gripped the sword tighter. I wanted to kill him.
As the crowd around him roared for more he silenced them with nothing but a raised hand.
“Enough,” Gestal said as he stood. “Have the pit cleaned and the sand replaced while I converse with my student.”
His eyes fixed on mine, and I considered glaring at him, but I didn’t have the energy to keep my head raised to his height. Instead, I lowered it, letting myself take in my appearance finally. I grimaced. I was a mess and I dreaded how much worse I must look to anyone who could see my hair and face.
The entrance and exit to the pit opened once more, letting in a little more artificial light and another blast of hot air. I walked towards it, wincing as my legs almost buckled. With everywhere inside the building lit by candles and lamps, I had no way of knowing what time of day or night it was, but I knew I’d been on my feet and fighting for a long time.
A quick look at the splotch told me all I needed to know. 26.
I was exhausted, drained, and no doubt Gestal knew it.
My stomach rumbled as I took another few steps, reminding me that I also had no idea how long it had been since I’d last been able to eat some food. It was a torment of different needs, none of which I expected to be met.
As I stepped into the cooler air in the corridor outside the fighting area, I noticed Gestal waiting for me at the bottom of the main staircase. The building was a maze, but I knew this area well now. The stairs led to several small chambers, each with a cot-lik
e bed, a small stool and a pathetic excuse for a mattress and bedding. One of them was mine. I had no idea if anyone slept in the others.
“Come,” Gestal said, beckoning me to follow him, not up, but into the gloom of yet another corridor. “You have done well to beat everything you have over the last three days. It is time you were rewarded for your hard work.”
When he took a different turn, I wasn’t expecting where we were going. Down, very deep down it seemed.
Gestal finally stopped before two huge security doors, he turned the knobs and stepped forwards. It was instinct for me to follow. My splotch still read 20. I needed healing, food, rest. Well, anything that I wasn’t so sure I’d get from him.
When he stepped inside, I sloped in behind and looked around. This I hadn’t expected. The room spread out before me, and a popup filled my vision and stayed. It showed various items, their stats, what they’d do for mine and how much they’d cost to purchase. I frowned. I had no money, not unless I was about to get paid. Was I?
“You may spend forty gold in here. Your earnings so far. Choose wisely. I have another task for you, and if you succeed I will consider you past such amusements as the pit. Displease me and you’ll go back to earning your keep in the arena.”
I nodded, not needing the threat. I didn’t want to step foot in that pit again if I could help it. I would choose the equipment which best enhanced the skills I had already and hope it was enough for whatever task Gestal had in mind next. I knew better than to ask before I decided. If he was going to tell me he’d have done so already. This was another test, another way to show I could think the way he needed me to, and I had every intention of passing.
Here, now, I needed to take my time. Not to rush any decision just because there was something shiny in front of me.
I walked up the displays. The first item that made me stop contemplating things was a small dagger. It looked like almost nothing sitting on a chest of drawers beside a shining rack of weaponry, as I focused on it, a stat box appeared: