by Jamie Davis
“There’s no harm done, sir. You can let this man be,” she said. She turned and left, disappearing into the crowd. Seeing the woman was unharmed, the man dropped his hand from Hal's shirt.
"You'd better watch your manners, son," He said poking Hal in the chest with his index finger. "There are some around this part of town who'd have stuck you first and asked questions later."
"I just asked her where I was, that's all."
"You're in the harbor district of Tandon City, man. Don't you smell the fish and the harbor?"
"I smelled something. I wasn't sure what it was," Hal said.
"Well, now you know. Find your way home, son, clean yourself up, and leave the good wives of the market alone."
The man shook a finger again in warning then walked off into the throngs of people, leaving Hal all by himself in the alley once more. Hal watched the people passing by and tried to make up his mind on what to do next.
"Well, I can't stay here, and I'm not waking up. I might as well explore this dream town a little."
A transparent overlay appeared in front of his eyes with words written in glowing gold letters.
A NEW QUEST has been accepted: Explore the Harbor Sector of Tandon City.
THE WORDS and the transparent overlay faded from view leaving him staring into space. Clearly, this hallucination had him not only transported to Fantasma, but he was playing the game as well. Alright, he'd play along. If he was in the game. He should be able to quit the game. He tried a few basic commands to see if they worked.
"Quit game."
Hal waited, but nothing happened.
"End game."
That didn't change anything either. Another thought occurred to him.
"System menu."
This brought up the overlay again, this time with a different set of words displayed.
SYSTEM MENU:
Character Stats
Inventory
Quest Status
NOW HE WAS GETTING SOMEWHERE. He didn't see a quit command, but at least he could access some parts of the game.
While the system menu was open, he concentrated on Character Stats and found his character sheet as he'd created it back at home.
NAME: Hal Dix
Class: Rogue
Level: 1
ATTRIBUTES:
Brawn: 8
Wisdom: 8
Luck: 18 -- +5
Speed: 8
Looks: 8
Health: 8/8
SKILLS: none
Experience: 0/300
CONCENTRATING AGAIN, Hal thought about his inventory. This time, he saw a new menu.
INVENTORY:
Homespun pants
Homespun shirt
Leather sandals
WELL, that was accurate. He didn't have anything else but the clothes on his back right now. One more check of his stats pulled up his quest status menu.
QUEST STATUS:
Explore the Harbor Sector of Tandon City
HAL HOPED there might be some additional direction in here about what else he was supposed to be doing. Apparently, this game was like most open world games and would offer him little in the way of direction on what to do next.
The menu faded away as soon as he stopped concentrating on it. Hal didn't need it anyway. He only had a single quest so he might as well follow it.
Hal stepped into the mass of people and started walking down the sloped street. The ships’ masts in the distance and the gulls flying overhead belied the presence of a large body of water nearby.
A scream sounded from up ahead, and Hal craned his neck to try and see over the crowd. A woman was now shrieking.
"Guards! Someone call the city guards! There's been a murder!"
A man pushed his way through the crowd in front of Hal, stopped and looked around, then ran up to him.
"Here, hide this for me."
He pressed something hard and wet into Hal's hands. He gripped the object, taking it from the stranger. The stranger smiled and ran off past Hal.
Words appeared before him again. This time they chilled him to the bone.
A NEW QUEST has been accepted: Hide the bloody dagger.
HAL LOOKED DOWN, afraid of what he was going to see in his hands. His right hand gripped the bloody dripping hilt of a long iron dagger.
"There he is! He's the murderer! Guards, guards, he's over here! Stop him before he kills again!"
Hal realized too late the owner of the voice was pointing to him. A space opened in the crowded street leaving Hal standing alone. He dropped the dagger to the cobblestones and tried to wipe his now bloody hands off on his shirt. Looking down he was startled to see the bright red blood now staining the white shirt. He was only making it worse.
He had to get out of here, but he had no clue which way to run. Hal stood indecisive a bit too long. Four men pressed through the crowd and approached, encircling Hal. Their uniform chain mail armor, helmets, and swords gave them away as city guards. The guard sergeant pointed at Hal.
"Take him, boys, and don't kill him in the process. The magistrate is going to want to know why he killed the District Warden in cold blood."
Hal bolted. Running for the edge of the crowd. As soon as he left the dagger behind in the street, words appeared before him.
QUEST FAILURE: Hide the bloody dagger.
HE WAVED his bloody hands before him as he ran. The crowd parted before him as people shrank away from him and his bloody hands. He heard a whirring sound in the air behind him as he ran. Something that felt like a strong rope wrapped around his knees, pressing them together. Unable to run any farther, Hal toppled forward, slamming face first into the ground.
HEALTH DAMAGE: Health -2
BEFORE HE COULD ROLL over and free himself, a booted foot kicked at his gut and rolled him over. Three guardsmen stared down at him; one was coiling up a leather cord with weighted balls on either end. Hal figured one of those bolos had been thrown to wrap up his knees while he ran away. The other two leaned forward with wooden truncheons in their hands. Hal cringed as the blows began to fall. The pain was excruciating and worse than anything he’d experienced before. Thankfully, the pain only lasted a short time, his health numbers depleting right before his eyes, until he fell into unconsciousness.
6
FOR THE SECOND time in a single day, Hal Dix woke up on a cold, hard surface. Once again, his nose was assaulted by a swarm of odors, this time bringing to mind what it must be like to be wrapped in a sweaty athletic sock and dropped in a toilet.
He heard voices shouting in the distance and a chorus of piercing cries from nearby. Hal lay still, keeping his eyes closed, pretending to still be unconscious.
While he tried to figure out where he was, Hal tried to open the stats menu and see how injured he was. He was pleased to see he could view the game menus even with his eyes closed.
NAME: Hal Dix
Class: Rogue
Level: 1
ATTRIBUTES:
Brawn: 8
Wisdom: 8
Luck: 18 -- +5
Speed: 8
Looks: 8
Health: 1/8
SKILLS: none
Experience: 0/300
NO WONDER he ached all over. He only had one of eight health points left. He'd probably regained consciousness when he healed back that one health point after the beating he got. If he ever got in a fight again, he was going to have to pay attention to that stat during the melee.
"I can tell you're awake, you know." A voice from nearby broke the relative silence. It sounded like a young girl or boy. "I heard your breathing change as you wakened."
Hal opened his eyes to slits and tried to look around while appearing to keep his eyes closed.
Peals of laughter sounded. He opened his eyes all the way and saw a teenaged boy with short cropped blonde hair sitting on the straw covered stone floor, hugging his knees to his chest while grinning from ear to ear.
"I don't know what you were trying to do, but you
looked ridiculous doing it."
"Where are we?" Hal asked.
"We're in the Duke's dungeons, under the palace barracks. At least that's where I think we are. I've never been here before."
The room they were in was about ten feet square with a rough stone shelf covered with a ratty brown blanket along each wall. One wall was made up entirely of black iron bars from floor to ceiling with a small door set in the center. There was a wooden bucket by the bars. Judging from the smell coming from that direction, Hal had an idea what the bucket was for.
"Did you really kill the Harbor District Warden in the middle of the street in broad daylight?"
"No," Hal said. "I did not."
"That's not what everyone is saying," the kid countered. "They say you were caught holding the murder weapon."
"It wasn't my dagger. I was --" Hal stopped himself just before he said, "holding it for someone else." He knew a lame excuse when he heard it.
"Don't get me wrong, mister. Everyone hated the Harbor Warden, especially young children, if you know what I mean."
Hal held out his right hand. "Look, we got off on the wrong foot. I'm Hal. What's your name?"
"I'm Kay," the boy said. He shook Hal's hand awkwardly as if he had never done it before. Hal would have to remember handshaking wasn't a thing here.
Hal tried again to gauge the age of the boy. He guessed early to mid-teens, but it was hard to say. Kay's voice hadn't changed yet, and there was something else that was strange Hal couldn't put his finger on. Maybe if he could get the kid to talk some more, he'd figure it out.
"What did you do to get locked up with a notorious assassin like me?"
"I got caught robbing the brother of the Merchant District Warden. They discovered I was an escaped slave and decided to make an example of me. That's why we're both locked up together. We're both going to the headsman's block together in the morning."
"What?" Hal shouted. "What about the trial? Don't we get to defend ourselves?"
Kay chuckled. "I'm sure they'll have a trial. Magistrates love trials. But why muck it up with details and excuses?"
"I can't die here. I have to get out. I have to get back to my home somehow."
Hal jumped up and ran to the bars, pulling and yanking at them as if they might dislodge from the floor and ceiling so he could escape. Kay came over and stood leaning against the wall, watching Hal's frustrated antics on the bars.
"You're a famous assassin, aren't you? Didn't you have a contingency plan in case you got caught?" Kay asked. "I thought that was assassin's rule number one, cover all the bases and plan your escape."
"How do you know what the assassin's rules are? You're just a kid."
"I've heard things over the years. I pay attention when people talk around me, and I never forget anything I hear," Kay said. "Back when I was a kitchen slave, I overheard my master talking with a master assassin he'd hired. They talked about the assassin's business and how it all worked. That's where I learned rule number one."
"I think I know what happened. The guy who actually killed the Harbor Warden ran up to me in the street and asked me to hold his dagger. Like a fool, I agreed. I think I was his escape plan." Hal pressed his lips together in a grim smile.
"Wow," Kay said. "It's the perfect crime, really. Frame another guy with the murder and make a clean getaway."
"So, you believe me?" Hal asked. "I told you the first time I didn't do it."
"Yeah, well, seeing how you're acting, I'm finding it hard to believe you're the master assassin the guards claim to have captured running away from the crime. You're just so, uh, ordinary."
"Maybe the magistrate will believe my story, too," Hal said.
"I doubt it. The real assassin is long gone by now."
"How's that my problem?"
"It's your problem because the Wardens run this town. They serve Emperor Kang. The Duke really answers to them not the other way around. They can't have someone getting away with murdering one of them without holding a very public execution."
"Maybe I can appeal to this Emperor you mentioned," Hal said.
"Where are you from, Hal? No one appeals to the Emperor. He doesn't care about anything but conquering every part of this land. He lets others rule in his place once he takes a city. That's what the wardens are there for. They run the cities in the Emperor's name while the local nobles act like they still have some power."
"This Emperor sounds like a complete douche bag," Hal said. "I'm surprised he kept the Duke alive if that's the case."
"He killed the king and all the other nobles here, sold their children into slavery. All, that is, except for one nobleman, the Duke. The Emperor does this in each city he conquers. In those singular cases, each nobleman's family becomes hostages for their loyalty and agreement to support the Emperors wardens. The Emperor moves on to the next land to be conquered and leaves a stable land behind in his place. He'll continue to destroy everything and everyone who stands in his path until he rules everything from sea to sea. That is, unless someone kills him first."
"You sound like you really hate the guy, Kay."
Kay turned and pulled the waistband of his trousers down a bit to reveal a complex design marked on the skin of his hip.
"Is that a tattoo?"
"No, Hal, it's a brand. It's the mark of the Emperor to say he selected me for a life of slavery. Technically, I can never be freed or otherwise emancipated. I must be owned for the rest of my life. I managed to escape my master, but the brand follows me wherever I go."
Hal didn't know what to say. Slavery had been outlawed where he came from for over a hundred years. A war had been fought over it.
"What did you do to get sold into slavery," Hal asked.
"I didn't DO anything, Hal. I was one of those noble children sold into slavery after my parents were killed right in front of me. I have a lot of payback to get if I can escape this place first."
"How do you plan to escape?" Hal pointed to the cell door. "I just proved those bars aren't going anywhere."
"There's got to be a way," Kay said. "I swore to kill the Emperor with my bare hands, and I refuse to let my word be given in vain. All I need is a little bit of luck."
Hal laughed.
"Don't look to me." Hal held up his hands in surrender. "I'm the unluckiest person in the world. Remember how I ended up in this cell, to begin with."
"I'm not talking about some sort of mystical luck," the boy said. "That is reserved for someone like the opponent of prophecy. When he comes to Fantasma, he's rumored to have a way to make his own luck." Kay walked to the cell's bars and gripped them, looking down the long hallway to the door at the other end.
"My father once told me that luck is what happens when you are prepared for all possibilities and recognize your opportunity to act," Kay said.
"That's not my experience," Hal snorted. "From what I've seen, some people have luck and others, like me, don't."
"Well then, Hal. We are truly screwed, because I can't do this alone."
"What do you want me to do? Hasn't everything I've told you explained how useless I am?"
"All I need is for you to distract the guard," Kay said. "If you can do that, we might have a chance. If we can get out of this cell, then we might have a chance. Anything’s better than waiting for the headsman."
"Kid, I'll give you this much," Hal said. "You don't have a lot of quit in you."
"I can't afford it, Hal. I’ve got an emperor to kill."
7
HAL AND KAY remained in the cell for what seemed like hours. After their initial conversation, they didn't talk at all and Hal went and sat on the floor in the corner. Hal was resigned to his fate. He figured he'd die and wake up at home slumped over his desk. It wouldn't be pleasant, but when was the last time his life was pleasant.
He'd been checking his stats periodically and watched as his health returned slowly to full strength. He guessed he was gaining back a point of health per hour which put their stay in the cells at le
ast eight hours long. His stats now read:
NAME: Hal Dix
Class: Rogue
Level: 1
ATTRIBUTES:
Brawn: 8
Wisdom: 8
Luck: 18 -- +5
Speed: 8
Looks: 8
Health: 8/8
SKILLS: none
Experience: 0/300
HE LOOKED at the Luck stat of eighteen. He'd put all those points into luck and look where he'd ended up in the game. So much for having a little bit of luck swing things your way. In his case, it appeared to be all bad luck.
Hal thought about what the kid said about making your own luck. He'd heard motivational mantras that sounded very similar to that. They were always spouted by extremely lucky people. Hal thought it was funny how the rich and successful people out there could claim to be anything but lucky to have achieved their station in life.
He was still ruminating on this when he heard a commotion from down the long hallway. There was shouting coming from the other side of the thick wooden door.
Kay hurried over to the bars staring down the hallway at the door. He turned to Hal.
"The jailer is coming with our dinner," Kay said. He looked at Hal, imploring him with his eyes. "Are you with me or not?"
"Huh?" Hal said. "You aren't serious about wanting me to distract the guard. What do you want me to do, pretend to be sick?"
"Just throw something at him when he gets close to the bars," Kay said. "I might be able to steal his keys while he's dealing with you."
"Throw something at him?" Hall looked around the room. The only thing to throw was the slop bucket that he and the kid had been using as a toilet. It was disgusting and smelled horrible. He didn't want to get any closer to it than he had to.
"Just do it," Kay implored him. "We have to try something. Just try!"
Kay shut up as the door at the end of the hallway opened, and a man wearing ill-fitting black leather armor entered the hallway. He was pushing a wooden cart with a metal bucket on top. A ladle hung from a hook on the side of the cart and a stack of wooden bowls stood next to the bucket. The man's belly pushed out from under the leather breast plate and hung down over the waist of his pants. Clearly, they didn't have physical fitness standards in the Duke's jail.