《Westward Soul: Duskwood Online》 Announcement *watches a tumbleweed roll by* Or whoever is left by now. I am going to restart this story. The chapters will be posted as a continuation. I hope you enjoy the new path. To post this it needs to be a minimum of five hundred characters. You can find me on Twitter @ScottMcCoskey And Wordpress (which I haven''t updated since 2018) https://undefinedscott.wordpress.com/ And DeviantArt deviantart.com/undefinedscott That still isn''t five hundred characters. Time to bust out some posts from tilthat.tumblr.com TIL that Simon Beck created giant ¡®crop circles¡¯ in the snow by walking for up to 10 hours at a time. Problems in his feet prevented him from running, so he initially started walking in these intricate patterns for the exercise. TIL: There is a latitude referred to as the ¡°Ham Belt¡± that is renowned for producing excellent hams, due to their climates being ideal temperatures to cure hams.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. TIL Diet Coke cans float and regular Coke cans don¡¯t, due to a difference in sweetener density TIL NASA¡¯s plan to dispose of corpses in space is to freeze them in the airlock and then violently shake the body with a robotic arm until it turns to space dust. TIL A King in China died because he kept crying wolf. He would light signal flairs for his Army to come help and when they did, he would laugh at them. He did this to make his consort laugh. When he needed help no one showed up. That should be enough Chapter 1 - Redux Samuel looked around at the room. He stood in a wide conference room that had mauve walls. Ten rows of chairs sat spaced out before a raised stage. Each row had twenty chairs. A set of doors sat on either side of the conference room. They appeared to be the only way out. Everyone looked to just as confused as he did. A crowd of people mingled around the open space behind the chairs. The doors on the right side of the room opened. A group five of people dressed in business casual attire strode up onto the stage. They all took a seat at a table that he was pretty sure hadn''t been there before. "People," one of the women in the group said. "Please take a seat." "What''s going on?" Someone in the crowd shouted. "Where am I?" "I will get to that," the woman said. "Take a seat so we can get started." "The hell I will," the same person said, their voice raised into a yell. "Fine," the woman said. She looked to the others on the stage. They nodded. "Anyone who doesn''t want to wait can go through those doors." She pointed to the set her group had come through. "We have people there who can answer any questions you may have." The crowd of people began to move in small groups. Some splitting off to the doors while others took a spot before the stage. Samuel found a seat in the third row. It wouldn''t be the first time he had sat through a pointless presentation. Usually they came with free doughnuts and coffee. He couldn''t remember the last time he had eaten, but he wasn''t hungry. Samuel paused. Now that he really thought about it, he couldn''t remember much before he got here, or where this place was. A jolt of panic ran along his spine. The doors to the right were starting to gain appeal. The people on stage waited until the last person had gone through the doors. "Now," the woman who had spoken before said. "I hope to be able to answer the questions you are no doubt beginning to have." She paused. "To start, you are dead," the woman said. "Rather, you died and your body was donated to science. This is not Heaven, Hell, or whatever afterlife you prescribe to. Our company purchased your corpse and scanned your brain into our system. There are grief counselors through the door on your right. Please feel free to use them."Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. The woman paused again. A few people went through the doors. Samuel leaned forward, trying to sneak a look at where the doors led. He didn''t see anything. The people who went through it just seemed to disappear as the stepped through. Panic shifted to anger. There was more going on than they were saying. "Let me answer a few questions you probably have right now," a man toward the end of the table spoke up. "Due to privacy laws we are unable to tell you how you died. We do have access to the date and the organization where you were processed." "Some of you are wondering how you are sitting in that chair," another woman different than the first said. "Right now you exist as a residual self-image. To put it simply, this is how you see yourself." "Our company is one of the leaders in the entertainment industry," the same man said. "We construct and maintain artificial realities." "We''re a videogame company," the first woman said. "You are being given the option to have a second chance at life in one of our games. If this doesn''t agree with you, there is another option. Go through the doors to your right and you will forget all of this. You will wake up in a world that will feel completely natural to you. You wouldn''t know you''re in a game, it would be your life." "That''s what happened to the people who went through already?" Samuel asked. The group of people on the stage looked at him. Five pairs of eyes studied him. "Yes," the woman replied. "It works out better for them this way." Samuel nodded. "Does anyone want to take that option?" she asked. No one moved. "Wonderful," she said smiling. "Now, through the doors to your left is the interface to get settled into your new world. Any gamers among you will know it as Character Creation. There is an assistant waiting for you if you need assistance." "One more thing," a woman who hadn''t spoken yet said. "You will be compensated for your time. There is also a chance to gain a following of viewers. Complete quests, explore, go on adventures, open a shop, or just live your life. You will earn your pay via task completion and a weekly stipend. There is an in-game market that you can use to purchase special items." She let the information settle for a moment. "There is another option for your money," the woman continued. "Our current level of technology has reached the point where an artificial body can be built to specifications. If you want, you can save your money to purchase a body. It is no small feat. The cheapest model is one point nine million dollars." A portion of the floor in front of the stage split open. Ten humanoid figures rose into view. They varied from what looked like a metallic scarecrow to a person. "The cheapest model is the Stick Figure," the woman said. "I shouldn''t have to explain why people call it that." "How are we supposed to earn two million dollars?" Someone from the crowd asked. "Like I said," the woman replied. "You will earn money per task, and it is possible to receive donations from viewers. There are more details available once you''re settled." Samuel didn''t wait for more. He headed for the doors to the left. They opened onto a room, unlike the ones on the other side. A woman dressed in blue scrubs stood near something that looked like a scale. The woman looked familiar, but he couldn''t place her. He took a deep breath and stepped into the room. Chapter 2 - Character Creation The room looked like it belonged in a doctors'' office. All it needed was a fake skeleton and an exam table. "Do I know you?" Samuel asked. "In a way, yes," she said. "I''m constructed from memories of people you found assuring and honest in your life." "Do you have a name?" Samuel asked. "Yes," she said. "My name is Erica, I''m an employee here to help make your entry go smoothly." Neither spoke for a moment. "How long have I been dead?" "Roughly sixty-eight years," she replied. "Do you know how old I was when I died?" He asked. A file appeared before her. She opened it and began to read. "Samuel Lucas Black," she paused. "It''s nice to meet you. Male, eighty-seven years of age," she paused again. It was much longer this time. "And you were acquired from New York State Prison Network." "Huh," Samuel said. "I died as an old man in prison." "It appears so," she said. "I was born in twenty-twenty," he said. "That puts my death in twenty-one oh-seven." "Well," she said. Her smile had turned tight. "The average life span hit one-hundred and fifty. As such, being in your eighties was closer to the early side of mid-life." "That''s not as bad," he said. "I guess." They fell into another stretch of silence. "Do you have any questions before we get started?" Erica asked. "Is there anything you can tell me about this game?" Samuel asked. "Yes," she replied with a smile. "The current game-world that needs people is set in something akin to what is commonly called The Wild West." "As in cowboys?" He asked. "Why?" "Our research shows that it has a steady interest and plenty of room to grow to maintain an audience," Erica replied. "There are plenty of fantasy elements to make it interesting." Samuel cocked his head to the side. "What happens now? I''ll be an NPC?" Samuel asked. "Do you have experience with games?" She asked perking up. "I lived in a town in the middle of nowhere," he replied. "I know what video-games are." "If you were to accept you would be a part of the D.A.R experience," she said. "You would be a part of the active cast, rather than a background member. Your adventures, whatever they turn out to be, will be broadcasted for people to watch. There is wide variety of content that catches interest. One of the top one-hundred channels is a merchant." "Sign me up," he said. "What happens next?" She smiled. "We''ll transfer you into the world," she replied. "After you create a character, that is." "I get to create a character?" He asked. "I thought I was the character."The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. "In a way, yes, you are your character," she said. "But we like to give people a choice. The system will assign skills that correspond with those you had in life. Your stats will be something you can customize for yourself. Scanning your physical abilities doesn''t translate effectively." "Alright," Samuel said. "Let''s get started." "Great," Erica said. She flashed a bright smile. "Please step onto the plate." The wall in front of him slid away as he stepped up onto the plate. A menu hovered in the air. Beastkin - Dragonkin - Dwarf Elf - Goblin - Human Kobold - Ogre - Orc - Troll "That''s quite the list," Samuel said. "These are the fun range of intelligent species. As a member of the Active Cast you have access to all of them. Players aren''t able to choose Goblin, Ogre, Dragonkin, or Kobold. Just so you know, if you choose one of those you will start in their designated areas. Each option has a number of subsets," Erica continued. "Each race comes with extra skills and modifiers to your stats." "Do I get to choose what I look like?" Samuel asked. "Yes," she replied. "And you can choose your name." Samuel smiled. "I would hope so," he said. "What about classes?" "The game is based on skill trees," she said. "You earn experience completing tasks. They can also give you reputation, negative or positive, which factions around the world. You buy new skills with your experience points." "Thanks," Samuel said. He selected Elf. The other listing faded away. Three options slid into place. Moon Elf Royal Elf Wood Elf "Royal," Samuel said. "As in they are tall, uptight, and pretty?" "Pretty much," Erica replied. "What are the differences between Moon and Wood Elves?" Samuel asked. Wood Elf +2 Agility +2 Dexterity Moon Elf +2 Agility +2 Wisdom "Moon elves focus on magic while their woodland kin prefer shooting people with different means," Erica said. "Is there an option for half-elves?" Samuel asked. "That''s under the Human option." Samuel nodded as he let the information settle in. He selected Wood Elf. A short, lithe humanoid with rich golden skin stood before him. Its eyes were blank, it had no hair, and it looked more like it belonged at the North Pole than in the forest. The facial features were all sharp lines. A menu appeared next to the elf. Replicate Appearance? Yes/No "What does Replicate Appearance mean?" He asked. "The template will look like you do now, with some modifications due to race," Erica answered. "Skin tone, height, and some features have a limited range." Samuel transferred his likeness onto the elf before him. It was definitely prettier. His new body had a diamond shaped face with a jaw that was accentuated with pointed ears. Height ¨C Build Eyes ¨C Nose ¨C Face Skin - Hair Samuel added a little more muscle but kept the build athletic, aiming for a look that would fit for a middleweight boxer or gymnast. The eyes he set to a center glacier blue and an edge of green with a vertical slit. He kept the skin the default color since it looked good and reminded him of lion fur. The only option left was one he had dreaded. Name "I don''t suppose I could just use Samuel?" He asked. "You could," she replied. "It just doesn''t sound very Elfy." He studied the elf before him. Keeping something close to his name would make things easy. Shortening to Sam would be even better. Wood elves needed something forest sounding to finish things up. "Sam''uel Willowthorn," he said. "That is some clever use of an apostrophe. Now to the stats," Erica said. "Your racial bonuses will be added after you''ve assigned points. The scores are based on a scale of ten. They all start at five and you have a total of seven to assign." "Can I lower a score for extra points?" He asked. "Yes," she replied. "But five is the average, anything less and you will see some negative outcome." Unspent Points - 7 Agility ¨C 5 Charisma ¨C 5 Constitution - 5 Dexterity ¨C 5 Intelligence ¨C 5 Strength ¨C 5 Wisdom - 5 "What''s the different between Agility and Dexterity?" Sam''uel asked. "They are usually the same thing." "Agility refers to your movement while Dexterity is coordination," Erica clarified. "It''s backflips versus card tricks." "Got it," he said. "Anything else I should know?" "Charisma effects how much reputation you earn per encounter," she said. "It can also determine the price of good and what services are available. Intelligence factors in to how much skills cost. If you want to do any sort of magic you will need a good Wisdom score." Agility and Dexterity were already boosted once his racial bonus was applied. Not getting hit was important, but it was also a good idea to take some damage. Erica had gone out of her way to the importance of Intelligence and Charisma. He had no plans to use magic, which meant Wisdom was a dump stat. Sam''uel Willow Thorn Agility ¨C 7 Charisma ¨C 6 Constitution - 8 Dexterity ¨C 7 Intelligence ¨C 9 Strength ¨C 5 Wisdom - 4 "Are you finished?" Erica asked. "Yes," he replied. "You''re going to be stuck with these scores for a very long time," she cautioned. "I''m good," Sam said. "Don''t say I didn''t warn you," she said. "Let''s move on to skills and equipment." Chapter 3 - Gearing Up "How do I access my menus?" Sam asked. The stats and name shifted to the background. Another block of text slid into view. "You''re basically integrated into the system," Erica replied. "The commands work on a mental level. Simply think ''menu'' or something more specific and it will pop up. Don''t get too far ahead of yourself. Skills are important." The text arranged itself into a list. "These are the skills that the system assigned you according to your life experiences," she said. "That seems fair," he said. "How does that work exactly?" "Skills operate on a level system that ranks from zero to one hundred," Erica explained. "These skills will start at fifteen. That will allow for a greater chance of success and aptitude." The five skills adjusted to fit into a larger list. "These are the basic skills," she said. "They have specializations that are unlocked once you qualify. Small Arms would be a progression of Firearms. Brawling is associated with Unarmed. These will increase as you use them. Advanced skills are purchased with experience." "Do I get to see the advanced skills?" Sam asked. Erica smiled. "Not yet," she replied. "They will unlock once you settle in," Erica continued. "Are you ready to move on to the equipment?" Sam''uel nodded. The skill list faded to the background and was replaced by a store front. "You have some options," Erica said. "You have five hundred dollars to spend. It is up to you if you want to take one of the premade packages or buy the items individually. Some people choose to just take the money and get started. I suggest look at the bundles first." "What''s the difference between a Doctor and a Healer?" Sam''uel asked. "Healers have a more traditional approach their practices," she replied. "There are a number of cultures that inspire the people who inhabit the parts of the world."This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. Sam''uel turned his attention back to the list. Explorer and Hunter appealed the most. Going with a Gunslinger out of the gate sounded like a bad idea. It would be asking for trouble and he had no idea what he was going to do in the long term. He didn''t want to waste this second chance at life. This new world would hold secrets that he was eager to discover. His choice became clear. "No weapons?" He asked. "Weapons are separate," Erica answered. "We found people like to make their own choices." "That''s a detailed list," he deadpanned. "Select one to get more information," Erica countered. "Just like the other menus." There was an incredible temptation to grab a couple revolvers and wear them in a two-gun rig then finish the loadout off with a nice lever-action rifle. That way he''d really look the part. Sam''uel took a deep breath to calm down. His current plans didn''t involve a constant string of gunfights. He selected Single Action and picked a model called Peacemaker. It was an obvious nod to the Colt Peacemaker that was iconic through the Wild West. The weapons didn''t have a manufacturer name, simply the one for the gun. "You guys couldn''t get the okay to use the official names?" Sam asked. "They are protected under the Historical Preservation Act," Erica replied. "As a fictional world, the reference isn''t allowed." All together it came out to two hundred and seventy dollars. It left him with almost three hundred left. The clothing appeared on his body. He wore black cotton trousers, a white button shirt, and long boots that reached up almost to his knees. The gun belt was strapped on securely while still being comfortable. It put the grip of the revolver at just the right height for his right hand to comfortably rest on it. Fourteen rounds were threaded along the leather. The backpack and other gear were missing. "I don''t see the other stuff," he said. "Think ''inventory''," Erica instructed. He did. A ten-by-five grid appeared before him. Each of the remaining seven items filled a spot. "That''s handy," he said. "Your backpack will give you more inventory space," Erica explained. "You have to equip it, which has the option to be visible or hidden. The limit is two equipped bags at a time, excluding a wallet." "Thank you," Sam''uel said. "I think I''m ready to go out into the world." Erica smiled. "Just about," she said. "There are some mechanics you need know. First, you will get hungry, thirsty, and tired. Players have the option to change the settings, but as a part of the system you are bound to standard limitations. There are options that can be purchased that can suspend these needs, which reminds me, the in-game store is accessed through any bank." "What happens if I die?" Sam''uel asked. "Under most circumstances you will respawn," she replied. "You will pop up at the nearest train station if you don''t have a location set. Any unspent experience is lost and equipped items take a hit to their durability. A portion of any money you had on your person will also be reduced. You have an account at the bank, put money in it whenever you can." "Thank you," he said. "Is there anything else?" "Don''t get shot," she replied. "It hurts." The wall before him slid shut. "I''ll keep that in mind," he said. "What happens now?" "Go through the door," Erica said. Sam scanned the room. The only door was the one that he had entered through. He pointed to it. Erica nodded. "This will take some adjustment," he muttered. The door opened as he approached. Chapter 4 - Starting Town Sam found himself standing on a wooden platform of a train station. A packed dirt street stretched out in front of him. Brick and wood buildings lined both sides of the road. Even from a distance he could see signs for a barber, inn, doctor, general store, and a saloon. A wide, squat building made of thick white bricks sat at the end of the street. Its windows had ornate iron bars. The sign above the door said ''bank'', not that it needed it. Either side of the building had been cleared away. A memory stirred in the back of his mind. It wasn''t nearly as formidable as they tried to make it. The windows blocked off a clear line of sight, which would cost precious reaction time. Open space along the sides made for a quick escape. All he needed was a scan of the street layout and a few days to learn the patterns. It would take at least four men, one on lookout, another at the door, and two inside. Sam smiled. His brain was sold by the New York State Prison Network which made him wonder what other memories like that would pop up. This world was based on the Wild West, meaning robbing banks was a viable career option. The downside being that he would become a wanted criminal. "Banks, trains, and stagecoaches," he whispered. The warm air felt nice on his skin, but he couldn''t hang around all day basking in the sun. He had two hundred and thirty dollars to his name. The first thing he needed to do was securing some sort of lodging and then figure out where he was in the world. Once that was done he needed to decide what he was going to do in this new life. Exploring was a good start. Like most things, it required funding. Two hundred and thirty dollars was a decent start, he hoped, but it wasn''t enough to maintain traveling. Standing around wasn''t going to get anything done. "That''s a start," he muttered. The townsfolk moved around without a glance in his direction. They went about their business. Sam''uel check to make sure the coast was clear and stepped into the street. He crossed to a raised wooden walkway in front of the general store. The name on the window labeled it Swoons Market. Sam looked through the open door to see a dumpy man in an almost clean shirt moved along the shelves loading up items. In front of the counter stood a dwarf with shiny auburn hair and a downy beard that was lined with delicate braids. "Hello there, stranger," the dwarf said. Their voice was a melodic tenor. "Welcome to Swoons Market. I am Delphine Swoon, the proprietor of this fine establishment. We don''t see many elves out this way. What brings you to Carson Bridge?" Sam stepped into the store. "Sam''uel Willowthorn," he said. "Please, call me Sam. Right now I''m just passing through." "Good to meet you, Sam," the dwarf woman replied. "The oaf over there is my husband, Trevor. He''s not much of a talker, but he''s a sweetie." The man nodded in his direction without stopping his work. "I didn''t hear the train," Delphine said. Sam shrugged. "I don''t know what to tell you." "You should see the sheriff," Delphine said. "He likes to talk to newcomers." "Where''s the office?" He asked. "Head down to the end of the street," replied. "Take a left when you get to the bank. It''s the red brick building, can''t miss it."Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. "Thank you," Sam''uel said. He stepped back out into the walkway. A human man stood nearby. He wore a tidy brown suit and a matching bowler hat. His posture was ram-rod straight, one hand rested on the revolver at his hip and the other arm was tucked behind his back. Even with immaculate posture the man stood five foot two at the very most. The Silver Star on his chest marked him as part of the law. Sharp eyes sized Sam up. "My name is Sheriff McGuire," he said. "And you are?" "Sam''uel Willowthorn," Sam replied. "I was on my way to see you." "You look like the able sort," McGuire said. "Are you going to be trouble?" "I''m not looking to cause anything of the sort," he replied. "My plans for the day are to rent a room and take a look around town." "The next town over is Santa Rio to the East. It does not have the luxury of a train station," the sheriff said. "It takes the better part of a day by saddle or stage. Between Carson Bridge and Santa Rio is the Bar-T Ranch. You would not want to travel that way on foot." Sheriff McGuire stared at him, stopping short of an actual threat. "Thank you," Sam said. "Would you be able to point me to somewhere I could get some food?" "Take a right at the bank," the sheriff replied. "Widow Easterly has a shingle up for her boarding house." Sam''uel gave the sheriff a nod. Swoons Market had an attached barn with a door wide enough to fit a wagon. The edge of the walkway had a ramp fashioned on it to provide access. A small alley separated the extended market and a bright white wooden building. The sign above the door marked it as the doctors'' office. He paused, knocked on the door, and opened it. A man with a wide face framed by mutton-chops looked up. He had hunched shoulders and beady eyes that darted from one thing to the next. The man wore a butcher''s apron over a white shirt with its sleeves rolled up. Faded splotches of crimson dotted the stretch of white fabric. The man was standing behind a chair that would fit in a back alley dentist office, or a sanitarium. "Are you injured?" The man asked. "No," Sam''uel replied quickly. "I''m introducing myself. Sam''uel." "Doctor Martin Harris," the man replied. "You''re an elf." "Yes," Sam said. "Good eyes." "Moon Elf?" the doctor mumbled. "Musculature does not lend itself to magical discipline. Wood Elf." Sam backed away without further conversation. He made a mental note not to see Martin Harris again. Following the directions the sheriff gave led him to a stretch of dirt packed road that hadn''t been visible from the train station. A sign marked an Inn, gunsmith, and finally the boarding house. His short conversation with the doctor didn''t inspire him to maintain social encounters. Still, he only needed two more people to finish the quest. Sam stopped before the double doors that led to the inn someone had taken the time to paint thin swirls of ivy along the side. He took a deep breath and opened the door. They opened smoothly without the hint of a squeak. A man with bushy beard waited behind a polished counter watching as Sam stepped inside. There was a doorway to the right that led to a dining room and a set of stairs to the left. "Welcome to Jacksons'' Rest, I''m Hank," the man spoke in a vibrant tenor. "You''re in luck if you''re looking for a room. Lunch is almost ready. Today we''re having chicken with grits and gravy." "A room is three dollars a day," the man replied shaking the hand with a steady grip. "Five if you add a shave and two meals. We can talk price if you''re planning on staying longer." "Sam''uel Willowthorn," he replied. He ran a hand along his chin. It felt smooth without the hint of stubble. Most elves he had read about didn''t grow facial hair. "I don''t think I''ll need the shave," Sam said. "Ah," Hank said. The man stood, but hit height didn''t change much. "We don''t get many elves in these parts. It''s humans and my folk mostly." "I didn''t realize you were a dwarf," Sam said. "It''s the chair," Hank said. "Makes people think I''m human. Don''t see how." "The price sounds fair," Sam said. "The sheriff directed me to a boarding house." "Widow Easterly," the dwarf said the words like the left a bad taste in his mouth. "Her cooking is middling and she loves to snoop around her guests rooms." "So he was trying to keep an eye on me, Sam''uel said mostly to himself. The dwarf laughed. "You must have left an impression," Hank said. "He might have caught me studying the bank a little too close," Sam admitted. "Are you looking to cause trouble?" Hank asked. "Not anymore," Sam''uel replied. "Good enough for me," a voice said from his right. He turned to see a dwarf woman holding a cleaver. "Margie," she said. "Dinner will be ready in a couple hours. Hank will show you to your room." Chapter 5 - Introductions Sam pulled up his new updated map. It was zoomed out to show a topographical view of the entire county, which was named Emmerson. Carson Bridge, Bar-T Ranch, and Santa Rio were the only locations that were marked. The view zoomed in on Carson Bridge with a thought. A bird''s eye view showed the layout of the town. It was bigger than he thought. The main road led from the train station straight to the bank then split off at a T-junction, which he knew. With the map now he could see the road to the stretched for a few more buildings before splitting off into a four way intersection. The road continued on out of town with the crossroad marking the transition from the town proper to tightly packed shacks that were broken up with the occasional tent. The road to the right that led to Jacksons Rest continued on to Bar-T Ranch. Only the buildings he had identified were marked on the map. There were a few along the road just outside the inn that he hadn''t had time to take a look at. "I''ll show you to your room," Hank said. The dwarf led him up the stairs to a hallway that was lined with doors. "The bath is at the end of the hall," he explained. "It''s got a hand pump to bring the water up from outside. If you want it warm you have to heat it up and dump it in. Good news, you don''t have to go outside in the middle of the night for the outhouse." "That is good news," Sam said. "Visitors are to be out at sundown," Hank said. "No trouble, fighting, or professionals; if you take my meaning. The Sunrise Saloon down the road takes care of those services. Don''t mind if you have a drink, but don''t get rowdy. You''ll pay for damages and Margie don''t take kindly to that sort of thing." The dwarf stopped at the second door. He unlocked the room and handed Sam the key. "Pay me at the desk once you settle in," the dwarf said. The room was nice, if a little simple. There was a bed, table and chair, and a wardrobe. It was lit by a hanging lantern that gave off a gentle blue glow. "I don''t really have anything to settle in with," Sam''uel said. "I do have a question." "I''ll do my best to answer," Hank said. "Why is this called Carson Bridge?" He asked. Hank smiled. "Noticed a lack of a bridge, eh?" The dwarf said. "The town was founded by two families. Carson got here first with Bridge following shortly behind. They built up the town, brought in the merchants, and helped get things settled." Sam''uel watched the dwarf head back toward the stairs. "Hank," he called. The dwarf turned around to face him. "Do you who I could talk to about some work?" Sam asked. "I like to keep busy." "Actually," the dwarf said. "I have a delivery to Bar-T Ranch that. Take it out there and I''m sure they''ll have something for you too." "I would be happy to," Sam said. "But I don''t have a horse."Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. "Why would you have a horse?" The dwarf asked. "I can lend you a raptor for the trip. Cost you a hundred dollars. You''ll get twenty back when you return." "Did you say a raptor?" Sam''uel asked. "Do you mean something like a dinosaur?" "I guess you Wood Elves don''t need to worry about a dry climate," Hank said. "Still don''t see how a horse would work out for you." Sam counted out a hundred and fifty dollars. "Here, one hundred for the raptor and fifty to rent the room for ten days," Sam''uel said. Hank pocketed the money. "Come on," he said. "I''ll introduce you to the clutch." The dwarf led him back down stairs and out the back of the inn. While the air outside on the street had been dry and warm, behind the inn was humid. They had stepped into an enclosure constructed from a collection of branch, leaves, and what appeared to be tufts of feathers. "Stay there," Hank said. "Dagr will want to look you over." A feathered dinosaur emerged from a nook in the enclosure. It stood on two legs that ended in clawed feet. Instead of a beak it had the face of a dragon. A thick patch of feathers cloaked where its arms met its body. Each had had two long fingers and a thumb, for lack of a better word, that sported a deadly set of claws. The shades of brown and gold blended perfectly with the nest around it. It stood a good foot taller than Sam. A spark of intelligence flashed in its eyes. "This is Dagr," Hank said. "He''s the prime male." "Is he the one I''ll be riding?" Sam asked. Hank laughed. "No," the dwarf replied. The dwarf stepped closer to the raptor and patted its neck. Dagr leaned in to accept the affection. "He''s my pride and joy," Hank said. "He comes from a long line of royal raptors. His life is one of luxury and he knows he''s a handsome boy." Dagr chirred in reply to the praise. The raptor turned its attention to Sam. It stepped closer, sniffing at him. Dagr huffed before turning back to Hank. "Looks like you pass," Hank said. "Here they come." Another half a dozen raptors emerged from the nest around them. Dagr wasn''t the largest, with most of the others easily half a foot taller. He did have the brightest feathers of the bunch. The smallest of the bunch had ash gray feathers and stayed toward the edge of the open area. "Kai," Hank called. A raptor with muted gold feathers stepped up. It was a little bigger than Dagr. "This is Kai," Hank said. "She''s a good girl, gentle and patient. Step up and introduce yourself." Sam looked from the dwarf to the raptor. Kai appraised him with a critical eye. He took a slow step forward. "Hello," Sam''uel said. "I''m Sam. It''s nice to meet you." Kai stared at him. "I was hoping to ride you out on an errand and back," Sam continued. Kai perked up at that. The others chirped and chittered. "Now you''ve done it," Hank said. "What?" Sam asked. "I''m going to have to take them all out for a run or I won''t hear the end of it," Hank muttered. Kai stepped up to the elf. She puffed her feathers. Sam didn''t get the feeling that she was trying to be aggressive, more that she was showing off for the others. Kai stopped in front of him. She lowered her head slightly and bumped him in the chest with the bridge of her nose. "She likes you," Hank said. "Scratch under her and you''ll have a friend for life. I''ll lead her around out front. Tell Margie you need a couple of nibbles." The entire clutch perked up at the word. Dagr led a chorus of trilling and chirps as they closed in on Hank. "Be quick," Hank said. The dwarf laughed as the little ones nipped at his chest. "She''ll give you the package too." Sam''uel couldn''t help but smile. The raptors were content to pester Hank even though they could have easily overpowered him and turned them both into a meal. Sam headed back inside. Margie was waiting at a side door once he was back. He could see a kitchen behind her. In one hand she held a loose bundle of butchers'' paper and in the other she had a satchel. The dwarf woman stared hard at him. "You take care of my baby," Margie said. "Yes ma''am," Sam''uel replied. He slid the satchel over a shoulder and tucked the bundle of butchers'' paper under an arm. Kai and Hank were already waiting for him out front. The raptor squawked when she saw the bundle. She wore a normal looking saddle and a harness along her head. Her mouth wasn''t blocked which put her teeth on full display. Sam untied the bundle to expose four cuts of meat. Kai hopped forward. She snatched all four of them from his hand and gobbled them down. The paper was still intact. "Kai," Hank scolded. "Chew your food." Kai chirped in reply. She settled lower to allow access to the saddle. "Bar-T Ranch," the dwarf said. "You know the way. Behave." Hank looked up to Sam. "She''ll take you there and get you back. Trust her to know what she''s doing. If she''s acting strange, something is wrong." "Thank you," Sam''uel said. "I would say that I''ll take care of her, but I think I''d just slow her down." Hank nodded. The dwarf watched as Kai stood. She shifted a bit to get the saddle adjusted. After a moment she took off heading down the road and out of town. Chapter 6 - On the Road Kai raced along the packed dirt road. She didn''t seem bothered by the extra weight on her back. The world around them was blurry dust. Carson Bridge was a spot of life in a stretch of desert. Kai took them on a path that ran perpendicular to the train tracks. The sparse scrub vegetation there was thinned out the further they got from the town. Sam''uel had his head tucked against the raptors thickly feathered neck. It didn''t allow him to get a good look at things, but it helped to cut down on the grit that got in his eyes. Riding on the raptors back was smoother than he had expected. Her steps flowed together causing only the slightest dip as she ran. He had no frame of reference to judge how long the trip was supposed to take. Kai slowed to a trot, allowing Sam to relax his grip on the feathered neck. They were still on the road. He scanned the area, but the town was out of sight and he didn''t see any sort of indication of a ranch. Kai chirped twice at him as she adjusted her speed to a brisk walk. "Something wrong, girl?" He asked. Kai chirped again in reply. She clicked her teeth and scanned the area ahead of them. The road had led them into a ravine. Naturally formed stone walls made it the perfect spot for an ambush. The tops were obscured with a few clusters of sagebrush and chunks of rock. An enterprising criminal could easily setup a blockade to stage a holdup. Sam''uel slid his revolver from the holster. The faint shape of a crosshair appeared in the air ahead of him. It rested in the center of his vision. Sam raised the Peacemaker, the crosshair adjusted to follow the movement. It returned to the center of his vision when he lowered the revolver. Further experimentation was interrupted as a human man stepped out along the path. He was dressed in a sweat stained woven shirt and dusty pair of trousers that were a size too big. Even more concerning that the quality his clothes was the double-barrel shotgun in his hands. "Well look here," their voice had a slight whistle to it. The man smiled, displaying multiple missing teeth along the front of their mouth. "Don''t get to see many elves around these parts." "I''ve heard that," Sam''uel said. "Could I get you to let me pass?" "Sure," the man said. "No skin off my nose. Just drop that satchel there and you can be on your way."The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Sam looked down at the man. A smart crook would have backup for something like this. It was a two person job, at least, one to provide cover and the other to do the talking. Three would be better, but it could be done with a duo. "Can''t do that," Sam said. "It''s a delivery, but not yours." The man cocked the hammers back on the shotgun. "Are you sure about that answer?" The man asked. Sam''uel snapped his revolver up. The crosshair turned red as it drifted over the hold-up man. A shot hit the man in the shoulder, sending him stumbling back and causing the shotgun to drop to the ground. Kai screeched and hopped back. The center of the crosshair had doubled in size. Sam adjusted his aim and fired once more. The man pitched backward, sprawling onto the ground. His body splintered and faded away leaving a ring in its place. "It''s okay, girl," Sam''uel whispered. He stroked Kai''s neck. "It''s okay." Kai squawked at him a couple of times. "I know," Sam cooed. "That was loud. I''m sorry." The raptor huffed. "Was that it?" He asked. "Is there anything else out here making you nervous?" Kai didn''t seem bothered. He slid out of the saddle and approached where the man had fallen. The shotgun was still on the ground. Sam kept his revolver at the ready. Kai wasn''t on edge, but he didn''t know how safe that made them. "Loot is loot," he muttered. Sam scooped the shotgun up with his free hand as he passed. He lifted it up to take a better look. The barrel was scuffed and the wood stock needed to be replaced. It snapped to his back once it was close enough. There hadn''t been a holster there before, but picking it up had caused one to form. Sam made a conscious effort not to think about it. The ring rested in the center of a human shaped outline in the dirt. It gave off a faint green glow. Sam studied it for a moment. An item description appeared in the air above it. Sam picked up the ring and dropped it into his coat pocket. Kai chirped at him and clicked her teeth. The raptor lowered itself to grant him access to the saddle. Sam loaded in two fresh rounds as he walked over to her. Kai didn''t look impressed. "I''m coming," he said. She hopped back to her feet once he was settled. Sam shifted forward, resuming his position pressed against her feathered neck. "Sorry to keep you waiting," Sam said. Kai huffed. She looked back at him; her eyes had a fresh spark. "Kai?" Sam asked. "What are-?" His words were cut off as she burst into motion. Sam swore the raptor laughed. Before, she had moved at a steady pace that was fast, but now she was sprinting. Gone was the smooth motion. Each stride bounced him in the saddle. Sam tried to steal a look at their progress and was rewarded with a face full of dirt. The ravine faded into the distance behind them. Ahead of them a tall log fence appeared on the horizon. The road led up to a closed gate that was flanked by a set of guard towers. There was an arch above the gate with something written on them. Sam couldn''t make the words out, but he had a hunch this was the Bar-T Ranch. Chapter 7 - The Bar-T Ranch "Who are you?" One of the guards yelled. "Sam," he replied. "I''m running an errand for Hank." "I know that raptor," the other guard said. "What''s his name?" "Her name is Kai," Sam corrected. "I think you owe her an apology." "That''s her," the guard said. "Sorry about that, Kai. I had to make sure he hadn''t snatched you." The log gate creaked and groaned as it lifted out of the way. It didn''t swing open like he had expected. Kai strode through the gate purposely not looking at the guards. She came to a stop before a raised water trough and looked back at Sam. The raptor plunged her head into the trough the moment he was out of the saddle. Sam''uel dismissed the notification. He turned to get a better look at his surroundings. A log palisade reinforced by stone completely surrounded the area. Three houses, a corral, and a nest similar to the one at Jacksons Rest were located inside the protective barrier. Another set of guard towers marked a second gate on the palisade adjacent to the first. One guard walked along a raised that gave him a good view of the area around the ranch. The main house had two levels. It was painted a muted red with brick supports as an accent. The roof was flat and there looked to be movement on it. He turned his attention to the other two buildings. One was a barn, or had been at one point. It had a deck that ran across where the set of large doors should have been and a couple steps that led up to a normal sized door. The last building was a squat rectangle with a long window running the length of the wall he could see. A couple of people inside were moving busy preparing a meal. Kai had led come to a stop near the raptor nest. The water trough was far enough away from everything that he would have to cross open ground to get to any of the buildings. Sam rested his hand on the satchel strap, which just happened to put the grip of his revolver within reach. This wasn''t so much of a ranch as it was a fortress. Sam turned toward the main building. It was a delivery, and that usually went to the people in charge. The door to the house opened before as he approached. A wide, muscular man with a greenish tint to his skin stepped out. He held a shotgun nearly as tall as Sam with ease.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. "What do you want?" The voice came out a rolling growl. "I''ve got a delivery from Hank," Sam replied. He patted the satchel. "What is it?" They asked. "No idea," he replied. "He asked me to bring it here. He told me that I may be able to pick up some work while I''m here." Sam''uel slid the satchel off and held it out. They were either an orc or an ogre, being on the small side made it hard to determine. The green man was large, but lacked tusks, which most orcs in fiction had. Sam didn''t think it was a good idea to ask. "Sam''uel," he said. "And you are?" "Gorignak," they replied. "What type of work do you do?" "Gor," a voice called from deeper inside the house. "Stop harassing that knife-ear and bring them in here." Gorignak studied the elf for a reaction. Sam realized that ''knife-ear'' was an insult. The big orc, or ogre, waved for Sam to follow. They led him down a long hallway that led into a parlor. A large, polished desk took up the majority of the center of the room. Three hyena skin rugs covered the floor. The windows were framed with iron; each had a set of solid looking shutters. A pale scarecrow of a man sat behind the desk in a chair that could have easily fit Gorignak with room to spare. "Bartholomew Patton Twain," the man said. "I am the owner of Bar-T Ranch. Who the hell are you, and why should I care?" There were few things in this world that Sam was sure of. His memories were vague, the Wild West wasn''t his wheelhouse, and it he was still adjusting to the fact that his new world was a game. He did know one thing: this guy was a scumbag. "Sam''uel," he said. "I''m a problem solver," he paused. "What do you need to get done?" The human studied him for a long moment before breaking into a laugh. He smiled broadly, showing his stained teeth. "And what makes you think I need your help?" Twain asked. "You''ve turned this ranch into a fortress and I didn''t see any sort of livestock," Sam replied. "Something has you hunkered down." The smiled faded from his face. "Gorignak," Twain said. "Send him after the mutts." "Yes, sir," the orc-ogre said. "Follow me." Sam''uel was glad to have a reason to leave the parlor. He followed Gorignak back out to the front steps. "There are packs of Gnolls that have been attacking the ranch," Gorignak said. "Gnolls?" Sam asked. "Hyena people," they replied. "Always been a problem, got a lot worse lately. Track them down and take care of it. Bring back fangs as proof." "Is that a problem you can handle?" Gorignack asked. Sam nodded. Without another word he approached Kai and saddled up. "Let''s go, girl," he said. "We''ve got some work to do." Chapter 8 - Outside the Walls They exited the ranch from the side gate. Kai didn''t seem bothered by the fact that they were heading into trouble. She would stop to sniff at a patch of scrub grass or watch a jackrabbit, but she was perfectly at ease. The raptor didn''t seem to mind when they found the first set of paw prints. Sam''uel slid out of the saddle to get a better look. The cracked, dry dirt perfectly preserved the paw print. It was wider than his hand and a bit longer too and it wasn''t alone. The print pointed toward the ranch. Those nearby faced just about every direction. The print that he had first noticed was bigger than the others. A new notification hovered over each print. "That''s helpful," he whispered. The tracks led to a cluster of scrub grass that ran up the slope of a hill. It transitioned into a copse of scraggly trees. Dry shrubs dotted the space between the brittle branches. The sparse vegetation continued on turning into a grouping of evergreen trees.If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. It was tempting to draw his revolver, or to try out the new shotgun he had acquired. Unfortunately, that would completely ruin any stealthy options. Sam summoned his inventory and equipped his hatchet. It appeared on his belt connected via a leather loop, rather than his hand. He drew the axe and felt its weight. The handle was curved slightly and had horizontal grooves that stopped about halfway up. It was topped with a thin metal wedge for a head. Sam turned to face the raptor. "Kai," he said. "Run on home if there''s trouble. Try to stay out of sight, okay?" Kai squatted down and settled into a comfortable position. Her coloring and the layer of dust from traveling provided excellent camouflage. "Good girl," Sam said. The elf turned back toward the tree line. He stayed low and moved slow, doing his best to use the landscape around to help him stay unseen. The world around him dimmed as he made it to the edge of trees. Sam smiled as the text faded from in front of him. That was helpful. Chapter 9 - The Grassy Gnoll Sam followed the tracks deeper into the sparse forest. The ground sloped downward once he made it through the first cluster of trees. Scrub grass gave way to actual foliage. Sticks and roots twisted along the ground. Sam was suddenly quite appreciative of the Wood Elf skill. Moving silently meant he could stay at a decent speed. The gentle slope turned into a drop that led to a rocky outcropping. Small structures made from branches and arranged stones formed the shape of a small village. The tracks had led him directly here, but no one was around. A slight motion to his left caught his attention. Looking with his eyes rather than turning his head he saw the shape of a bipedal hyena. It held a stone tipped spear pointed right at him. Once he identified the shape he could make out at least a dozen more all around him. Sam had no idea why he was still alive. They could have easily killed him before he even had a chance to figure out what was going on. "I appreciate you not stabbing me," he said. "It is still an option," a surprisingly smooth feminine voice replied. "Why are you here?" "The Bar-T Ranch sent me out here to take care of some Gnolls that have been harassing them," Sam replied. A chorus of yips and growls answered him. "You have found the Gnolls," the voice said. "But we have done nothing beyond trying to survive. It is they who are harassing us." Sam sighed. He was inclined to believe her, the fact that these Gnolls were living in huts while the ranch was a fortress helped their argument. Not to mention that scum bag had more than one hyena skin as decor. His previous life wasn''t exactly clear but he his gut was telling him that the ranch were the bad guys here. Sure he had been on prison and apparently had died there but that didn''t make him a villain. There was a difference between being a crook and being an asshole. This was a new world, that meant he didn''t have to work for someone like that any more. Still, he had taken the job and the quest was active. "They sent me out to gather Matriarch Teeth," he continued. "If I leave they will just send someone else." "Try to take them and die where you stand," a younger female voice yelled. "Miss," Sam continued. "You''ve got me surrounded and my gun is still on my hip. Even if I wanted to fight you, how would I expect to walk away from this?"The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. "Hush child," the first speaker said. "Teeth you say?" "Five of them," Sam replied. "We will give you the teeth," she said. "You take them back. Tell them we are no longer a problem." "That sounds good to me," Sam said. "What will you do? They might send someone to check on my work." "They will not find us," she replied. "We have been here long before they arrived and we know the secrets of this land." "I hope you''re right," Sam said. Something rattled on the ground by his feet. He looked down to see a leather pouch. "I''ll take my time getting back," he said. Sam turned around and followed the trail back the way he had come. Now that he knew what to look for he could see a couple scouts shadowing him. Their movements still made noise but it sounded natural, like wind through the trees. Kai was nowhere to be seen and in her place stood a trio of humans. They waited for him as he stepped out of the tree line. He had seen them patrolling the walls. Their clothes were clean and their boots were polished. The only piece of gear that had any sign of use was their gun belts. "You boys don''t look like you''re here to make sure I get back safe," Sam said. They didn''t reply. "Fine," Sam said. He plucked a stone from the ground nearby. "Let''s do this quick," he said. "I toss this and we draw when it lands. Nice and clean." The two on the sides looked to the human in the middle. He nodded. Sam shifted the stone to his left hand. The three humans watched as he tossed it up into the air. Sam drew his revolver the moment they took their eyes off him. Three sharp cracks send two of them sprawling to ground. The human in the middle jerked back as the round took him high in the shoulder. Sam adjusted his aim and fired twice. The numbers hovered over the fallen gunmen. One hundred hung above the human who had been in the middle. "Well," Sam said. "Looks like I made the right call." Kai sped out from the tree line. She came over to him, looked him over, and then nipped at his shoulder. "Thanks," he said. "I''m glad I''m okay too." He turned his attention to the woods. "I''ve got some business with the Bar-T Ranch," he said loudly. "I wouldn''t mind a bit of company, if you''re so inclined." Sam didn''t wait for a reply. Kai stayed close to him as he walked over to the fallen gunmen. Their bodies disappeared once he touched them, leaving a small bit of loot in their place. Respawns for NPCs were still something of a mystery. Would the trio be waiting for him when he got back to the ranch? Would they respawn at all? He needed some answers. "First things first," he mumbled. Kai settled down into a crouch. Sam patted her on the neck as he slid into the saddle. "Stop a bit before the gate," he said. "It''s going to get rowdy and I don''t want you to get hurt." Kai chirped in reply. "Let''s go," Sam said. The raptor hopped up and took off back the way they came. As it stood Sam could see two possible outcomes for this quest. They would either pay him, or try to kill him. Either way, he wasn''t going to be doing any further business with the Bar-T Ranch. Chapter 10 - Assault on Bar-T Ranch Kai stopped short of the gate. Sam stepped out of the saddle. The ranch looked the same. They weren''t too concerned about the missing trio and didn''t look to be expecting visitors. Sam took a moment to reload his revolver. "Hide somewhere until you see me come out," he said. "Stay safe, okay?" Kai huffed, but still strode away. He smiled as she walked away. Considering her size, and the fact that she had an impressive set of claws, he didn''t want to put Kai in danger. She could probably take care of herself, if need be. Stumbling upon something nasty along the trail was one thing, taking her into a potential gunfight was something else. The guards at the gates were missing a few people. Sam took that to mean that the three he took out were still gone. Hopefully, that meant they wouldn''t pop back up while he was at the ranch. There was a chance, an incredibly small one that they had been coming after him of their own choice. Bartholomew might simply be a creep, not some villain who wanted to kill him. A red triangle appeared of the head of the gate guards once they saw him. Without a word they raised their weapons to take aim. A spear sailed through the air and knocked one of the guards back into the yard. Sam looked for the source to find a Gnoll scout rising from the ground. Dry dirt and tangles of the remains of roots cascaded over its form. Sam turned his attention back to the wall. The remaining guard had snapped out of it enough to get his weapon up again. More of the ranch hands patrolling the wall were making their way over. Sam drew his revolver and fired off a couple of rounds. He didn''t hit the guard, but it got the guy to duck back to cover. Three spears thudded against the wall, creating an improvised ladder. The elf sprinted toward the wall. He grabbed the bottom spear, using it and his superior Agility to launch himself up onto the wall. Sam landed on the wooden walkway on the interior of the ranch. The remaining gate guard was hunkered down a few feet away by a lever. Another eight ranch hands were closing fast. Sam couldn''t help but smile as the nearby guard stared at him with wide eyes. His hand snapped down and back up as he drew his revolver. The guard flinched as it fired. He looked down to find a wonderful lack of freshly made wounds. A look of dread spread across his face as the gate began to open. The guard looked to the lever beside him to find the remaining chunk of wood was pointing in the wrong direction. He placed his rifle on the walkway beside him and scooted back against the wall.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. A group of Gnolls rushed through the open gate. Sam turned his attention to the approaching guards. He fired in their direction, but found his revolver to be lacking due to the range. The shotgun on his back wasn''t going to do any good either. What he needed was a rifle. "May I use this?" Sam asked the guard. The guard shook his head, "go ahead." Sam agreed. The Worn Double-Barrel dropped to the ground. He raised the rifle to his shoulder to take aim. The cross-hair appeared, but this time it was larger. When using his revolver the center was barely visible. Now, with the rifle, there was a noticeable gap. It merited some thought when he wasn''t in the middle of storming a fortress. The cross-hair turned red as his aim fell on the nearest guard. He fired and missed. The gap doubled in size. Sam lowered himself to one knee. Thankfully the cross-hair returned to its normal size. It shrunk even more as he took a deep breath and held it. The numbers followed the guard as he tumbled off the walkway, landing face first in the empty corral in the courtyard. A loud crack accompanied the impact. Not one from gunfire, instead it sounded like wood being broken, which added yet another thing that needed further attention after the gunfight. A total of ten Gnolls had joined the assault. Three had made their way onto the walkway along the wall and the others were keeping the guards busy. They were scarily accurate with their spears. Two of the Gnolls had fallen. Sam watched as another slumped to the ground. Movement from the house caught his attention. He had forgotten about the guard on the roof. The man had shifted to get a better angle on the Gnolls below. Sam brought the rifle back to his shoulder. The guard across the way was kneeling as well, presenting a nice stationary target. Sam waited until the cross-hair had shrunk to almost nothing before he fired. The guard on the roof tumbled down to the dirt. "Do you mind if I keep this?" Sam asked. "Go ahead," the guard said. "Thank you," Sam said. "Stay here, keep your hands up, and you should be fine." The guard nodded. He put his hands above his head, resting them on the wall behind him. Sam took a moment to relieve the man of the gun on his belt. The guard didn''t protest. An identification window popped up as Sam grabbed the revolver. The revolver disappeared into his inventory when he declined to equip it. Item number three that he would have to take a closer look at. "One more thing," Sam said. "Huh?" "Is there another way into the house?" Sam asked. April 2019 - Announcement Thank you for reading Westward Soul. It means a lot to me that there are people out there interested in the story. That being said, I''m sure you''ve noticed that I haven''t kept the three chapters a week schedule for a bit now. Sorry about that. I realized that I was writing the chapters & posting them as I went. That''s fine, but it doesn''t provide much in the way of wiggle room.Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. I am working to fix that. I''m aiming to have at least 2 weeks of chapters ready to go before I start posting them again. That''s four to six depending which schedule I settle on. Thank you for your patience, the story will continue soon. Chapter 11 - A Bit of Detail The Gnolls had secured the courtyard. Sam directed the surviving ranch hand down to the corral. "He surrendered," Sam said. One of the Gnolls approached. Dirt clung to their form. A bright red burn marked a fresh scar on their cheek. "Don''t fight and you will live," the Gnoll said. The ranch hand nodded. "That sounds fair." "I don''t know how many are in the house," Sam said. The Gnoll looked to the house. They cocked their head to the side. "We will finish it if you don''t come back," The Gnoll said. "Could I ask a favor?" "What?" "Could you make a bit of noise?" Sam asked. "Toss some spears at the house, or something." The Gnoll smiled broadly, exposing a mouth full of sharp teeth. They nodded and let out a loud laughing call that hyenas were famous for. The others joined in. A moment later all of the Gnolls were focused on the house. They tossed spears, banged against the walls, and broke windows. The ranch hand flinched each time glass shattered. Sam couldn''t help but smile. He skirted to the back of the house moving along the wall. Someone inside the house was returning fire providing even more cover for his approach. He said a silent thanks to the extra dexterity awarded to elves as he hopped off the wall and crept up to the backdoor. It was unlocked. He opened the door to find a double-barrel shotgun pointed at his chest. The orc-ogre bodyguard held it, but didn''t fire. "Gorignak, right?" Sam asked. The orc-ogre nodded. "Holster your weapon." Sam did. "I don''t suppose I could convince you to lower that and let me through," he said. "I can''t let you do that," Gorignak said. "The guy is obviously a villain," Sam countered. "He just needs a mustache to twirl and a fluffy white cat to pet while he gives orders." The bodyguard hadn''t shot him yet. He took that as a good sign. "He''s my friend," Gorignak said quietly. "How?" Sam asked. "He called me a knife-ear. I seriously doubt he''s accepting of other people." "He wasn''t always like this," Gorignak said. "He used to be Active like you, and me." "You''re Active?" Sam asked. Gorignak nodded. "But he isn''t," Sam continued. "How is that possible?" "You''re new, right?" Gorignak didn''t wait for a reply. "There was a bunch of you when you connected. That means a new hunt to earn a body will start soon." "What do you mean a hunt?" Sam asked.The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. "It''s something they do when new people are uploaded," the orc-ogre replied. "They showed you the bodies and told you the cost. Soon they will announce a hunt where you get a top of the line designer body as the grand prize." Sam blinked. He let the words sink in. "The fine print is that you''re gambling your consciousness," Gorignak said. "Die on the hunt and you get assigned a role in the background cast. No idea you were ever anything more than whatever you are." "So your friend entered and lost?" Sam asked. Gorignak nodded. His grip on the shotgun loosened. "Was he always evil?" "No," Gorignak replied. "He was assigned this role. If you kill him, or any of the NPCs, they pop up somewhere else in the world as another character. I would have to find him all over again. It ruins the immersion if they just pop back up in town." "How do you know if he''s your friend?" Sam asked. "It could just be his face." "It''s him," the bodyguard replied. "I can tell." "Okay," Sam said. He paused. "Did you join the hunt?" "No," Gorignak said. "There''s only one grand prize. If I had signed up then it would be rough." "So, if you die, you''ll just respawn, but he''ll appear somewhere else in the world with no memory?" Sam asked. Gorignak nodded. "My spawn point is here." "Unless the Gnolls win," Sam said quietly. Gorignak nodded again. His grip on the shotgun had relaxed to the point where it was aimed at the floor. "If they take the ranch then my spawn point is reset," Gorignak said. "I don''t even remember where I started the game." "Wow," Sam whispered. "That is rough." His hand dropped to his holster and snapped back up with his revolver in hand. Sam fanned the hammer, sending all six shots flying into the bodyguard. Gorignak tumbled back onto the floor. Sam''uel kicked away the double barrel shotgun and dumped out the spent cartridges. The broad green body faded away after a moment, taking the shotgun along with it. It didn''t look like other Active members dropped loot or gave XP. Sam took a moment to reload the revolver. "Gor?" Bartholomew Patton Twain called from the other room. "Get your green ass in here and stop playing around. Round up the men. Put those mutts in their place." Sam shook his head. He slid the fully loaded revolver into the holster on his belt and he swapped it for the hatchet. Sam stepped through the door that led into the office. Bartholomew was still sitting in the same chair. It didn''t even look like he was armed. The scrawny human began to rummage around the desk. Papers tumbled to the floor sending a half empty decanter of a dark liquid skittering. The man latched onto a weapon and raised a letter opener into view. Sam cocked his arm back and launched the hatchet forward. Sam dismissed the prompt with a thought. Unlike Gorignak, the body of the scrawny man remained. The elf moved around the desk. A notification popped up once his hand touched the grip of his hatchet. "Nice," Sam said. He pulled up his inventory and dropped the Deed in. Eventually he might be interested in setting up a base of operations, but he wasn''t ready for it yet. The Deed would hopefully fetch a decent price. Sam stepped out into the hall to see the few remaining guards with their hands up. The Gnolls had won. A couple of them escorted the men outside. Sam followed. The scene that greeted him stopped him in his tracks. The empty coral had been gutted. He had thought the space was an open stretch but it was actually a stretch of wooden planks covered by dirt. At least another dozen Gnolls had been led out into the sunlight. Their fur was matted and those that still had clothing wore rags. At some point Kai had wondered into the courtyard. She was settled by the trough without a care in the world. "Thank you," the Gnoll Matriarch said. Sam looked at the Gnoll then back at the others. He sighed. Sam opened his inventory and removed the Deed. He held it out to the Gnoll. "What is this?" The Matriarch asked. "The Deed to this land," Sam replied. "You will legally own the ranch and the law will back you up. Your people have earned it." The Matriarch nodded. "This place was a stain on the land. That human let bandits run wild and pressed his will on the settlements nearby. You will find a safe haven here. Do not abuse our trust." Sam smiled. He walked over to Kai. The raptor fluttered her wings as he approached. "Come on, girl," he said. "Let''s get you home." Chapter 12 - An Offer The ride back to town was uneventful. Drag marks off to the side of the trail were all that remained of the would-be bandit from before. Kai led same directly back to the nest. She settled down to let him off and then promptly shook off the saddle. The dwarf waited for him at the back door. "Welcome back," Hank said. "Did you drop off the delivery?" "Not so much," Sam replied. "Bar-T Ranch is under new management." "Oh?" The dwarf asked. He crossed his arms and looked Sam over. "By who?" "The Oli Clan," Sam replied. "That," Hank said. "Is good to hear. They''ll get the bandits in order quick like." "Do you know where I can turn in a bounty ring?" Sam asked. "The Sheriffs Office," Hank replied. "There''s a message for you, once you get settled." "A message for me?" "That''s what I said," the dwarf countered. Hank disappeared back into the Inn. Sam followed a few steps behind. "No one knows I''m here," Sam said in a low tone. "A messenger dropped it off to your name," the dwarf said. "Don''t know more than that. It''s waiting at the front desk." "Thank you," Sam said. "I guess I''ll read it now." Hank led him to the front desk. Just as he said there was an envelope waiting when they arrived. Sam looked down at it and then at the doors. He stepped to the side to get a look at the street. The townsfolk were going about their day. No one seemed particularly interested with the Inn, nor was anyone studiously avoiding it. "Do you want it or not?" Hank asked. The elf turned to see Hank holding the envelope out to him. "Thank you," Sam said as he took the letter.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Sam''uel Willowthorn, Thank you for taking the time to read this. I know you''re still getting your bearings, but you''ve come to our attention. As the Active Cast Member Gorignack mentioned, there is a contest coming up. Across the world there are hidden artifacts that must be retrieved. The person to gather several artifacts and activate them will be granted a reward. This being a top of the line, custom order artificial body. We are contacting you because you fit a certain profile. If you accept our offer, you will be rewarded for every Active Cast Member that has entered the contest for which you kill. Each one will grant you one thousand dollars of hard currency, which is the equivalent of ten thousand dollars of in-game currency. If you accept you knowingly, and of your own free will, will have turned the Active Cast Members into Resources. They will have their memories adjusted to fit in with the world around them with no further recollection of their previous lives. Should you decide to reject this offer then this letter will be purged from your memory. You have twenty-four hours to decide. Good Luck Sam''uel read the letter again. Carefully going over the offer in his mind. If the basic artificial body ran about two million, then a top of the line model had to be incredibly expensive. A thousand per Active swapped over would be pennies on the dollar to their bottom line. On the other hand, it was essentially killing these people. But they were already dead. He was already dead. This entire world was just a game, and they wouldn''t even know they had a life before their new one. Do I want a new body? Sam thought. Do I want to go out into the real world? He looked down at the hand holding the letter. In this world he would come back if he died. This was a world of magic and adventure. What did the real world have to offer? The words on the letter shifted. Sam smiled at the text. The withered away until his hand was empty. His gaze shifted to where Hank was now flipping through some sort of ledger. "The Sheriffs'' Office," Sam said. "Where is that located?" "To the right, end of the street," Hank said without looking up from his ledger. "Thank you," Sam said. He tipped his hat at the dwarf, only to realize he didn''t have one. "I need some fresh clothes and a hat." "Swoons Market," Hank said. "I know where that is," Sam countered. After the room for a week and the raptor rental he had a total of seventy-five dollars. He had no idea how much a hat and some new clothes would cost. A fresh set, or two, wasn''t a bad idea. His current outfit was already a bit ripe. His stomach growled loud enough for Hank to look up at him. "Any chance at a late breakfast?" Sam asked. Hank smiled. To the Readers Hello good readers. Thank you for enjoying the story. For those of you who follow or watch, an extra thank you. This is a passion project for me that I started to keep sane while I waited for my editor to get back to me. I am currently in the process of getting a book ready to publish.The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. The downside being that I''ve neglected this story. I love it, but it needs work. To make sure it''s a cohecive story I would need to reboot it... again. Which leads me to the poll below.