Cronica Acadia

by C. J. Deering

  “He ran away,” said Elftrap.

  “We should get him.”

  “No,” said Doppelganger. “Let’s finish the quest while I’m in the zone.”

  “He might be hurt.”

  “I’ll go to him,” said Elftrap. “If you don’t need me.” Please don’t need me, she begged silently.

  Dangalf looked at Doppelganger before answering. “We’ll meet you back at the road,” he said.

  Doppelganger moved ahead roughly through the brush. Three down and thirteen to go, thought Doppelganger. Dangalf nodded solemnly to Elftrap before following.

  “Good luck,” she said.

  VI

  Nerdraaage sat on the road, and Elftrap stood about ten paces from him. She had known for a few minutes that Dangalf and Doppelganger were on their way back but hadn’t bothered to tell Nerdraaage. They had not said anything to each other.

  Dangalf appeared from the tree line first. He was carrying a pile of wolf tails in the bowl of his shield. Elftrap thought he looked a little tired and a lot blood splattered but otherwise fine.

  “We got enough tails for all of us,” shouted Dangalf.

  Doppelganger followed. His clothes were shredded and remained only on his body because they were pasted there by blood. His arms, legs, and face were stained crimson. Elftrap was sure that not all of the blood could be wolf blood, but Doppelganger looked triumphant nonetheless. He carried a locked chest in front of him.

  “What is that?” asked Elftrap.

  “A treasure chest,” said Doppelganger. “Just like in the game.” Up close she noticed how pale he looked and saw that he had gashes all over his body that seeped blood when he moved. She looked at Dangalf, who shared her concern.

  Nerdraaage peeked at them between the fingers that covered his face. He did not want to see them or be seen by them in his shame. Why had he been so fearful compared to the others? What was the point of being in a sturdy, strong dwarf body if he was going to be the same fearful, weak man-child he was in the old world? The skinny wizard and elf girl took to combat better than him.

  “Is that sixteen?” Elftrap asked of the tails.

  “Eighteen,” answered Dangalf.

  “Why so many?”

  “They just kept coming.”

  “It appears the wolves killed a couple of trappers,” said Doppelganger. “We found this chest on a broken-down wagon.”

  “Too bad we don’t have a lock-picker to open the chest,” said Elftrap. Treasure chests in the game required keys or skilled lock-pickers to open them. Doppelganger smashed the chest upon the ground, and it cracked open.

  “Another game concept bites the dust,” said Dangalf.

  The lock held, but the hinges were broken. Doppelganger tore the top from the chest. The contents were modest but might as well have been gold and jewels to the Keepers. There were animal pelts. There was a handful of copper coins, which Doppelganger said he would hold for all of them. “The bank of tank,” he assured them.

  A carrier pigeon fluttered out of a broken cage, and Elftrap gently retrieved it. It took immediately to her shoulder. “Now we can send messages!” she smiled.

  “Who are we going to send messages to?” asked Doppelganger with a laugh.

  “In time,” she said. “Things will not always be as desperate as they are now.”

  Dangalf took out a small, unmarked bottle. “Healing potion?” he suggested.

  “If they were trappers, it could be some kind of poison,” said Elftrap.

  “The bottle is too ornate for poison I would think.”

  “Only one way to find out,” said Doppelganger as he took and drank the bottle.

  “Are you crazy!” yelled Dangalf.

  The taste was terrible, but the effects were almost immediate. They all watched in horrified fascination as the lacerations and avulsions on his arms and legs mended themselves with new, pink skin. The color returned to his skin as if his body had suddenly replaced his lost blood.

  “What this world lacks in indoor plumbing it more than makes up for in magic,” said Dangalf.

  Doppelganger removed a plain but functional dagger from the chest. “This will look good on my belt,” he said. “When I get a belt.”

  “This is a dagger, and our blackguard should carry it,” answered Dangalf. They all looked to Nerdraaage, who slowly lifted himself off the ground and walked to the others. He took the dagger but even this didn’t feel right. He couldn’t imagine anything more terrible than stabbing something.

  Elftrap sat on the ground writing something. Dangalf peered at her work, and she turned it away from him, which he found to be very odd. “What are you writing?”

  “I’m putting my name on the shire-reeve’s warrant so we can turn in the quest. Give me your scroll, Nerd.” He dropped the scroll next to her.

  On the journey back to town, a dejected Nerdraaage brought up the rear. Elftrap looked at Doppelganger with the same foreboding that Dangalf had already felt. She tried to put a positive spin on it. “You’ve certainly adjusted to our new circumstances,” she said.

  “And what about you leaping ten feet into a tree?” said Doppelganger.

  “I was just as surprised by that as you were,” she said. “And it was only about six feet.”

  “We have changed more than we even know yet,” said Dangalf. “Physically and mentally. There has been some vestigial awakening in us. Like a race memory. I think we are tapping into the knowledge of ancient ancestors—ancestors who were warriors and wizards and maybe even elves and dwarves. We might adjust to this new world better than we had hoped.”

  “What about…” said Doppelganger subtly referring to Nerdraaage. “He was not very dwarf-like. If the lore about dwarves is correct.”

  “I don’t know,” said Dangalf. “There’s a piece of the puzzle that’s still missing for him.”

  VII

  It was sunrise when they returned to Hempshire. They were dirty and tired, and they had great gnawing holes in their bellies, except for Elftrap, who said she “could eat.” Dangalf wasn’t sure which was more important, eating or sleeping. “Eating,” insisted Doppelganger.

  Doppelganger and Dangalf entered through the front gate, but the guards were disinterested in Nerdraaage’s and Elftrap’s warrants and wouldn’t let them pass. The dwarf and elf were again forced to enter through the toilet.

  Nerdraaage mistimed his entrance and unseated an occupant of the facilities. He and Elftrap ran to the shire-reeve’s office as Nerdraaage’s victim called for aid.

  Doppelganger and Dangalf picked up their pace to intercept their comrades just as Nerdraaage fell face first just outside the shire-reeve’s office.

  Elftrap hid behind Dangalf, who did his best to look brave as they became again surrounded by the unforgiving ends of multiple spears. The shire-reeve exited his station at the sound of the commotion.

  “Sire, my comrades and I have completed your quest!” shouted Dangalf.

  Doppelganger walked to the shire-reeve, bowed slightly, and dumped the wolf tails before him. The shire-reeve nodded to a young scrivener who had followed him out the door. The scrivener counted the tails.

  “Eighteen,” he reported.

  The shire-reeve held out his hand, and Dangalf deposited the warrants in it. The shire-reeve waved for the guards to stand down, and the spear points withdrew. He examined the warrants.

  “Bartleby,” said the shire-reeve, and the scrivener took quill to paper. “Let it be known that the humans,” he paused to read the warrants, “Doppelganger and Dangalf have proved themselves in the service of Hempshire. Also the she-elf Ashlyn has with her service proved herself a friend of humans.”

  “Who is Ashlyn?” whispered Dangalf. Elftrap, henceforth to be referred to as Ashlyn, smiled shyly.

  The shire-reeve continued: “As well as the dwarf Nerdraaage.” The shire-reeve took a coin purse from his belt. “Payment from the treasury made to each of them. Notify Vinland.”

  Notify Vinland! The
Keepers of the Broken Blade sighed collectively as they took their first step to respectability in their new world. The shire-reeve turned his attention back to the Keepers.

  “Might I suggest that you spend some of your reward on hot water and soap?” The shire-reeve nodded, and the males bowed. Ashlyn curtsied for the first time and hoped she did it right.

  Dangalf turned in his sword and crushed shield to the scrivener. With a look from Dangalf, Doppelganger also reluctantly surrendered his arms.

  “Let’s go to the inn,” suggested Dangalf after the shire-reeve departed. “Maybe we can get a bath there.”

  They walked down the main road of Hempshire and attracted as much fascination as they displayed. The town was bigger than in the game, but they recognized the iconic businesses that were found in all the game’s major towns: the butcher, the baker, and the…chandler. Well, it might not have been very poetic, but the result was the same. They made a quick stop at the chandler for some soap.

  They passed the village smithy under a spreading chestnut tree. There was also the ubiquitous cheese shop. The pungent odor signified that it was not uncontaminated by cheese as was the Homage Fromage cheese shop in the virtual Hempshire.

  The population of the real Hempshire was different from that of the virtual Hempshire as well. Where this time of day the virtual Hempshire was teeming with warriors and wizards, druids and blackguards, the real Hempshire was teeming with merchants and craftsmen, farmers and guards. In the game world, these people were the NPCs. The Keepers were the only heroes he could see, and a sad lot of heroes they were at this point. But that lack of heroes made sense to Dangalf. Wasn’t their old world populated overwhelmingly by NPCs? Very few people in that world could be called hero, seeker, mercenary, or adventurer. What a revelation! He had had to travel to another universe to figure out what was wrong with his old life in his home world. He had allowed himself to be a Non-Player Character! He was confident, though, that he wouldn’t make that mistake in this universe.

  Dangalf spotted a building with a wizard-hat-shaped sign. The Wizened Wizard! “That’s where you go for wizard training!” The others nodded, not nearly as excited as he thought they should be. He decided it would be best to introduce himself after he bathed. Even Nerdraaage cheered up looking at the sights of the bright, busy town.

  “Ashlyn?” Dangalf finally asked.

  “Yeah. What’s that all about?” added Doppelganger.

  “Elftrap was fine for the game. But we’re in a real world now, and I thought it would be better to have a real name.”

  “Yeah, thanks for not telling me I could get a new name,” grumbled Nerdraaage.

  “I have another concern,” she said. “We’re supposed to be lawful-good aligned. How right is it that Doppelganger killed the wolves and we all took credit for it?”

  “O M Gs,” said Nerdraaage.

  “And I don’t think we should have looted that chest either,” she said. “That was human property, not spoils of war. I mean, if we’re going to play the game properly…” She trailed off.

  “I came into this world with about five percent body fat,” pleaded Dangalf. “And I’ve burned through most of that. I would like to get one meal in my belly before I worry about what is lawful and good.” Ashlyn sulked quietly. Dangalf continued, “The wolf bounty was a group quest, and they, in the game at least, never measured individual contribution to the completion of a group quest. Everyone got credit for it. We were all there. We all took risks. And bottom line, it was just to get you and Nerd some rep so we could get you into the front gate. There will be many more quests, and we’ll all contribute. And in the game, trapping is illegal. What little we got from the trappers’ chest falls under spoils of war.”

  “I guess that makes sense,” she said.

  “But you’re right,” he added. “The Alliance is lawful-good aligned, and I believe the Keepers must follow that path as well if we’re going to be successful.” Ashlyn appreciated the acknowledgement and smiled.

  And there it was. Hempshire’s celebrated inn, The Silent Woman. The promise of food and drink and rest brought them to new heights of joy.

  The Silent Woman signage featured a headless woman. Ashlyn, still settling in to her new gender, suddenly found the joke behind the sign to be a little creepy.

  They had only gotten to the open front door when Master Tolliver, the burly innkeeper, intercepted them. He bellowed something about the four not fouling up his premises when he was arrested by Mistress Tolliver, who took him by the arm and spun him back into the inn.

  Mistress Tolliver was an ample woman with pendulous breasts barely contained in her low-cut dress. Nerdraaage was immediately enamored of her, which he did not understand because he had never before liked zaftig women (or fat chicks, as he called them).

  Mistress Tolliver looked Ashlyn up and down sympathetically. Two of her brutish boys stood behind her and looked Ashlyn up and down not so sympathetically.

  Ashlyn vaguely described their predicament to Mistress Tolliver, who made all those sympathetic feminine facial gestures and sounds. “We will get you some new clothes. But first, a hot bath.”

  “Can I help!” offered the oldest of the boys. Mistress Tolliver smacked him with the back of her hand so violently that it startled the Keepers despite the violence they had already witnessed in this world. Without missing a beat, she turned again to nurturing mother and made some more sympathetic sounds at the Keepers. She collected some copper from the bank of tank and said she would have one of the boys pick up some new clothes for them. She told the male Keepers that they could get a bath at the stables and ushered Ashlyn into the inn.

  At the stables, Dangalf and Nerdraaage stripped quickly to be first to bathe. Dangalf won. The stable master fed their soiled clothes into his fire with a pitchfork.

  “You’re covered in that red hair,” Dangalf said from the tub to an especially naked Nerdraaage. Nerdraaage only laughed in response. “You know you could stand behind a post or something. Someone could come by.” Nerdraaage just laughed again and made no effort to conceal himself.

  When Nerdraaage finished bathing, Doppelganger stripped. “Dude, you are built like a brick shitehouse,” said Dangalf with awe.

  “Regretting your decision to go full ectomorph?” asked Doppelganger. When first creating a Cronica character, players were prompted to pick what percent they wanted to be of two different qualities: mesomorph and ectomorph. Simply put, mesomorph dealt with size and strength and primarily benefited classes of the Red School (the weapons classes), and ectomorph dealt with intellect, which primarily benefited classes of the White School (the magic classes). Intellect was at the expense of size and strength, and the reverse held true as well. A third quality was endomorphism, but that quality was not selected but fixed according to race, with the dwarves being most endomorphic and the elves least.

  When Dangalf designed his avatar, he moved the slider to 100 percent ectomorph. This maximized his intellect, but the trade off was the frail body he now inhabited.

  Doppelganger had designed his character hastily and before he fully understood the game concepts, resulting in his having chosen a 90 percent mesomorphic character. Most warriors went 100 percent mesomorph, with blackguards and hunters usually going somewhat ectomorph since their success depended on more than sheer brute strength. Intellect was such a wasted ability for warriors that Doppelganger contemplated deleting his character and starting from scratch at full mesomorph. It was only the months of intense game play he had already invested in his character that prevented him from doing that. So he compensated for his weakness with the best strategy, gear, and enchantments the game provided. He easily vanquished most of his opponents regardless. In fact only former Keeper Regicide ever regularly beat him.

  Doppelganger wondered if the slider error he had made years ago in the old world would come back to haunt him in this world. Would that 10 percent ectomorphism frustrate his efforts to be a truly great warrior? Could he be anothe
r 10 percent bigger and stronger than he was?

  That worry vanished as he found himself hard-pressed to fit into the washtub. He squeezed his ass and ankles to the bottom of the tub and washed as best as he could. “Help me bathe!” he barked at his friends. “I can hardly move.”

  “You’re sure you can’t move?” asked Dangalf before he and Nerdraaage alternated by dumping buckets of hot and cold water on him. He had to make an extreme effort to control his anger as they laughed hysterically. After all it was pretty funny, and he was getting clean.

  Young Tolliver arrived with their clothes and joined in the water torture. Doppelganger understood why Mistress Tolliver had slapped him so violently. The frolics finally ended when a frustrated Doppelganger broke through the tub, and the water spilled everywhere.

  Dangalf and Nerdraaage got dressed and were soon complaining that their new clothes were ill fitting and unfinished. Tolliver rolled his eyes and asked how they expected their clothes to fit before they saw the tailor. Dangalf loved it! Tailored clothes on a pauper’s budget!

  After visiting the tailor, the trio headed to the cobbler, where they were able to trade their looted furs for nice footwear and some silver coins to boot.

  They headed again for the Silent Woman, where Master Tolliver allowed them to enter after a cursory exam at the front door.

  Inside was a magnificent painting of a regal-looking William Dukenfield wearing a sash of red, white, and blue. When Dangalf mentioned the portrait, Tolliver shook his head at their ignorance and told them it was a great source of pride that Dukenfield should be the first-ever commander of combined human, dwarf, and elf armies. And for now, the supreme allied commander was the closest thing the humans had to a king, he added.

  They sat in the dining room, where there were a dozen male customers. Most of them sat alone. Some ate. All of them drank.

  Doppelganger and Nerdraaage sat as Dangalf headed to the bar. A friendly, busty serving wench approached. Too skinny, thought Nerdraaage, but he would still do her.